by L. M. Roth
He felt an overwhelming desire to protect her, something he had never felt for any of the maidens in Valerium or Lycenium. There the young girls were polished to perfection and at ease in any society, having been well-taught by their mothers the art of capturing a man’s heart. But this young girl seemed defenseless and her demure manner invoked a tender response in Lucius.
He attempted to still the sudden rapid beating of his heart; it would not do for her to see the effect she had on him. After all, nothing could come of his attraction to her as he would not be remaining in Lucerna. After he felt himself able to control his breathing he smiled at her and stated he wished to buy her wares.
“What is the fruit today, Roshana?” He asked, noting that she blushed under his gaze.
She reached for a pink fruit with a satiny smooth exterior the size of a date and handed it to him. He inspected it cautiously, and sniffed at it. The smell was pleasing, sweet and pungent at the same time.
“What is it?” he asked, not certain if he wanted to try it. “It looks very strange to me, and I do not know whether I wish to taste it.”
She giggled and glanced up at him briefly; only to giggle even harder at his discomfiture.
“It is called faran, the fruit of bliss. One bite of it and all of your troubles melt like the dew in the morning sun. It is from this fruit that our land takes its name. For those who eat of it wish nothing more than to stay in our land forever, eating of its bliss.”
Lucius raised a skeptical eyebrow, but decided to humor her and purchase it for his mother. For if anyone stood in need of having their troubles melt away, it was certainly Tullia Maximus.
Tullia looked at the fruit her son brought to her. It was certainly pleasing to the eye. Pink, the epitome of delicacy, and the scent so rich yet sweet.
She inwardly scoffed at her son’s account of the almost magical qualities of the fruit. Surely no food had such power. Knowing her son, he only wished to placate the pretty vendor who had sold it to him. She knew also that he was aware of her frustration and despair at being led on yet another fruitless chase to find the Sword.
Knowing that he wished in some way to make amends, however, she decided to humor him and try the fruit. After all, what harm could one bite of a piece of fruit do?
Chapter XXIII
A Peril Forgotten
One bite made Tullia forget all of her troubles, as a curious ecstasy came over her. Never, she thought, in her entire life had she felt the sense of bliss that filled her. She would not have been surprised to find herself floating, so light did she feel!
She found the sensation so pleasing that she offered a bite to Lucius as well. When she saw the look of euphoria that illuminated his face, she knew that he also felt that odd sense of rapture. They finished that first fruit together, and from that day on they visited the fruit stall and purchased another one daily.
It was not long before they noticed other effects produced by the fruit. Tullia saw that the skin of her hands was noticeably smoother; for some time her hands had taken on a slightly rougher appearance that she knew came with the passing of the years. It was a sad fact of life that lines and wrinkles marred her fine skin and detracted from her beauty.
Within three days of first eating the faran the backs of her hands suddenly took on the texture of velvet, and faint lines around her wrists simply disappeared. She examined her face in her looking glass and the fine lines around her eyes had decreased in depth, some of them had vanished completely. The discovery brought a simultaneous sense of joy and alarm: why should a fruit have this effect on one?
Was it not contrary to all the laws of nature? Another thought sprang into her mind: was the faran the key to the health and beauty of Lucerna’s inhabitants? Did the fruit heal sickness and restore youth?
Tullia felt she must discover the secret of the faran. With this end in mind she decided to have a chat with Roshana herself. She did not care to speak to her father Zorash, for he was the merchant who had treated her so rudely on her first day in Lucerna.
Tullia walked with her usual grace and dignity to Roshana’s stall, and gave the young girl a warm smile. It was returned with a duck of her head, followed by a shy glance from her dark eyes.
The girl was so quiet by nature that it might prove difficult to garner much information from her, Tullia thought. Still, it was worth a try.
“Good day, Roshana,” she said. “I enjoyed the faran so much that I wish to purchase more of it.”
Roshana inclined her head in a slight nod and passed six pieces of the faran to Tullia at her request. Tullia did not wait until she left the stall, but bit into a piece of the fruit at once.
“Mmm,” she sighed blissfully. “What a delicious taste this fruit has! So sweet, yet pungent, almost tart. I have never tasted anything quite like it.”
She chewed a piece slowly and swallowed it reluctantly, as though savoring every bite. Then she turned to Roshana.
“Tell me,” she asked, lowering her voice almost confidentially, “where does this fruit come from? All of your other wares are familiar to me, but I have never seen faran anywhere, and I consider myself very well-traveled. Is it unique to Lucerna?”
Her eyes widened with an innocent air as she queried the young girl. She noticed that Roshana looked about her almost apprehensively before answering her questions.
“Yes,” she all but whispered her response. “It is the native fruit of Faranaza, as we call our land. And I have heard it said that it grows nowhere else in the world.”
She smiled with an understandable pride as she uttered these last words. Her dark eyes shone with an inner light, and Tullia was struck at how attractive the girl was. Indeed, how attractive all of the natives of this land were.
“And does everyone in your land eat this fruit?” she asked as casually as she could. “Do the children eat it as well as the older people? Or is it left up to each person whether they care to eat it?”
Roshana giggled, and drew closer to Tullia. As she did so, Tullia felt that she was about to hear something unusual that she would never forget.
“We must all eat it,” Roshana whispered into Tullia’s ear. “For it is said that our years will be lengthened and our hearts made glad by the faran. It is said that it heals the sick, cheers the sorrowful, and delays old age. Suffering is forbidden in our land, and so all must avoid it, and therefore eat the faran.”
She nodded at Tullia almost in glee. Tullia smiled back at her and was about to thank her for her time; but Roshana was not yet finished.
“But,” the young girl continued with a sudden change in her voice and manner.
Her eyes narrowed and bored into Tullia’s with a sudden intensity that made Tullia shiver. The innocent young girl unaccountably took on a sinister air, and Tullia felt as if she had walked into a frozen snow bank on a winter night…
“It is said that there is a price to pay for the health and joy that comes from eating the faran. What that price is I do not know; yet I have heard it all of my life. One does not reap the benefit without paying for it.”
Tullia merely stared at her, still amazed at the transformation that had come over her doll-like countenance. She decided to keep her uneasiness to herself.
“Really?” she asked. “I wonder what that might be?”
“I do not know,” Roshana repeated.
Then she giggled again, expunging the sinister look from her face and restoring its angelic innocence.
“But there is a price. Make no mistake about it.”
Lucius also enjoyed the faran, and visited the stall regularly over the next few days. For they had extended their stay, why he did not know. Tullia had planned to stay only two days to rest before continuing their journey.
And then she realized she did not know where they were going, or why. She looked at her son with blank and puzzled eyes.
“Mother,” he queried. “How long shall we stay in Lucerna? You said two days only, yet five have passed already. Is it not time w
e went on our way?”
Tullia gazed at him, with a question of her own in her eyes. Her forehead wrinkled in a frown, the only line in her suddenly youthful looking face. Lucius was startled to see that she looked at least ten years younger than she had a week ago.
“Are we leaving Lucerna?” she asked him, her frown growing deeper. “Why should we leave here? I think it is a delightful land; I see nothing wrong with it.”
Lucius looked at her in puzzlement. He knew there was something he should remember, but could not recall what it was.
“You are right, Mother,” he answered. “I think it is a perfectly wonderful place, and we should remain here.”
Tullia smiled back at him with a curiously vague expression on her face. What was it that eluded her memory? She seemed to have come to Lucerna with some purpose in mind, but now she could not for the life of her remember what it was.
Chapter XXIV
A Man of Importance
Marcus sped on his way, careful to evade the soldiers that he knew would be patrolling the borders of Valerium. It was not only the sentinels on the wall he must evade, but those posted within a five mile radius of its environs. Vigilance was exercised rigorously to keep invaders out of the land and he knew he must keep to the woods and away from open spaces as much as possible.
He wondered what his wayward daughter had done? Had she traveled back to Lycenium after all? Kyrene had certainly thought otherwise, and why run away from Solone and upset them all if Lycenium had been her destination from the start?
It did not make any sense. And where had Felicia gone?
By keeping to the woods and traveling under cover of darkness as much as possible, Marcus was within five miles of the city limits of Potentus within three days of entering Valerium. He decided not to risk entering the city itself, knowing that he would be recognized. Yet he had to book passage on a ship to return to Lycenium.
He pondered this dilemma for several minutes. And then he remembered the tiny port of Clarus, just ten miles south of Potentus. Ships leaving Potentus called there to take on the wares of flaxen cloth woven by local merchants as well as the occasional passenger.
He turned in the direction of the south and made haste for Clarus.
Marcus felt that the time spent in Clarus was the longest he had spent anywhere in his life. It was true that few of his friends in Potentus would visit the tiny port, but there might be some in Clarus who had visited Potentus on special occasions, and might recognize him.
He kept the hood of his cloak close about his head and spoke to no one. He checked the port register and discovered that a ship would call within three hours, bound for Lycenium. Dominio be praised! he thought. The sooner he left Valerium the easier he would breathe.
Marcus boarded the ship and made straight for the little cabin he had booked. He flung his parcel down on the floor and looked with longing at the bunk with the primitive bed. It was not as luxurious as his own bedroom in Lycenium, but after a week of roaming the woods with only the forest floor to lay his head on it seemed the answer to all of his needs.
Without even bothering to unpack and place his garments in the cupboard he plopped down on the mattress and sank at once into a deep and restful sleep.
When he woke it was dark; he had slept through the dinner hour and was now famished with hunger. He wondered whether he should call a hand for some food, and then decided to venture to the kitchen and ask the cook for a scrap of something to eat.
With this goal in mind, he set out in search of the galley. He located it quickly, and an appetizing aroma made his saliva rise in his throat. How long had it been since he had eaten a real meal and not just nibbled on what he could obtain in the woods, or the dried fruit and cheese he had carried from Eirinia?
He opened the door cautiously and was greeted by a saucy looking young man with dark hair and eyes who sat at a table chopping vegetables with a large knife. The young man glanced up from his work and gave Marcus an impudent grin that revealed a gap in his front teeth where one was missing. He nodded and bade Marcus to enter.
“Come in, come in!” he said. “It’s not many who visit the galley and I am glad for the company. Have a seat!”
Marcus took it gladly and after exchanging greetings introduced himself and explained that he had slept through dinner, and was there by any chance some food still to be had?
“Aye, sure,” the young man smiled. “Always have something left over; but then I make plenty so no one starves. Not in my kitchen they don’t! For I was one of eight young’un’s and I know what it is to be hungry, that I do.”
He promptly filled a wooden trencher with stew and gravy and produced some dark bread and shoved it across the table to Marcus. Marcus devoured it, and then remembered his manners. He shuddered to think what his wife’s reaction would have been had she been here to see him!
“Thank you, thank you very much,” he addressed the young man. “You certainly make a hearty stew. I feel strengthened by it already.”
“Always happy to do a service, that I am,” the young cook answered. “And you, sir, are rather different from most of the passengers that ship here from Valerium. You are a human being, I’ll say that for you, and not like the aristocrats that make demands on me all day long.”
Marcus bit his tongue on the words that sprang to his lips. For was he not an aristocrat himself? Better not to tell the young man that bit of information. While he was in the environs of Valerium he should draw no attention to himself.
But the young man was speaking, and Marcus’ ears suddenly perked up.
“Ah, not like the man we just left in Potentus,” he said sagely, with a wag of his shaggy dark head. “So important he was, and bound to never let me forget it. Get me this, get me that, all day it was. And then turned up his nose he did at everything I made.”
And the young man exhaled a long sigh at the remembrance of the inconsideration of his late passenger.
“I am sorry to hear that,” Marcus soothed. “I am sure you work hard all day and it must be trying to have a difficult passenger who requires more of your services.”
“Aye, that it is! Not all of the aristocrats are like that one, but he was a real trial, he was. I asked someone who he was after he deigned to enter the galley one evening to reprimand me about the quality of my cooking, and I was told that in his case nothing I did would ever satisfy him, him being that sort of person, you know.”
Marcus chuckled in appreciation and shook his head as if in a shared bewilderment at the incomprehensible behavior of his fellow man.
“Who was he,” he asked idly, not really caring but wishing to make conversation with the friendly young man to show appreciation for his services.
“Well, that was the real surprise,” the young man exclaimed. “I was told his name was Decimus Hadrianus, and his father used to be the Governor of Lycenium, but this Decimus is considered a real nobody. But he sure acted like he was somebody!”
Marcus’ body jerked as his feet flew up from the floor in his surprise. Why would Decimus be in Valerium? His roots had always been Lycenium, with no family in Valerium that Marcus knew of. For what possible reason could he be in Valerium?
Chapter XXV
News In Lycenium
Marcus at last arrived in Lycenium weary of body and anxious of heart. Something was gnawing at him, but he could not place his finger on what it was. It eluded him as the morning mist evaded one’s fingers; if you tried to grasp it you were met with nothing but air.
When he entered the atrium he called for Otho, whose face creased into a radiant smile at the sight of Marcus. He hurried to take his cloak and bag, and then clapped for a maidservant to bring cold water for refreshment. Marcus drank it thirstily in a single swallow, so hot was the June day.
After he had refreshed himself, he asked Otho to summon Tullia. To his astonishment the butler paled and hesitated before replying. He cleared his throat and glanced anxiously at his master, but before he could reply he wa
s interrupted by the sound of light steps scampering down the staircase and bursting into the atrium.
“Father!” Felicia exclaimed, and thrusting ceremony aside, leaped up into Marcus’ arms as though she were a small child again.
He was nearly knocked off of his feet, but overcome with laughter, he picked her up and swung her around in a circle before setting her down on her feet. How he loved this daughter!
Then he remembered her recent escapade that had so alarmed the family and Kyrene, and pulled a sober face down over his grin with the effect of a shade blotting out the light of day when evening comes. Felicia saw the expression and braced herself for her father’s rebuke.
“Well, young lady,” Marcus began, “what do you have to say for yourself? You alarmed your mother and me and upset your Aunt Kyrene who so graciously accepted you as a pupil and whose hospitality you abused. I want an explanation, if you please.”
Felicia shuffled her feet on the floor and looked to them for inspiration. None came. Then she sighed deeply and raised her head to face her father.
“I was afraid, Father,” she murmured in a low voice. “And I was angry with Mother, yes, I was! For she promised me a year in Solone and then broke that promise. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and left before she could come to fetch me like some cloak she had left behind to be collected at her convenience.”
Felicia thrust her chin up defiantly at these last words, and Marcus smarted at the utterance of them.
“For shame, young lady!” he reprimanded in the sternest voice he possessed. “Your mother gave in to your wishes against her own inclination and, indeed, her own training and background, and you abused that privilege. You also caused a great deal of anxiety for Kyrene, who blamed herself for your running away. Do you have any idea of the turmoil you have caused everyone, Felicia?”
