Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set)

by L. M. Roth

  Dag remained impassive, although grief was etched in every line of his face. Cort knew that of all of his children, it was his adopted son that held first place in Dag’s heart, a bond borne from compassion for a small boy alone in the world, who hailed from his own homeland, and shared the memories of that place.

  His brothers and younger sister greeted the news with a wail, but Maelys merely nodded her head in understanding. Then she rose to embrace first Cort, then Siv, and even Brit. She kissed Siv tenderly on the cheek and wiped a tear from her swimming eyes. Cort knew that his sister was genuinely fond of his wife and it wounded him to know that he would inflict a hurt upon his sister by depriving her of her friend. Yet there was nothing else to be done.

  The rest of the meal passed in somber silence, broken only when someone attempted to lighten the atmosphere. It would have been easier to amuse the mourners at a funeral, Cort thought. After it was over the girls joined their mother in clearing the table, and Dag took Cort aside into the family room.

  “Are you sure?” he asked Cort. “Is this what you feel you should do?”

  Cort nodded, even as his tears started to fall stealthily down his cheeks.

  “Yes, it is for the best,” he said. “Siv can not endure Melisande, and she still watches me with some evil intent in mind. But now that I have told you her secret I feel better about leaving. At least you know now who she is, and will be on your guard against her.”

  “Yes,” Dag nodded, although the nod was slow and heavy. “You must think of your wife. It is not good to keep her where she feels her happiness spoiled by the malice of another. And I think also that Melisande is not through causing trouble for you.”

  Cort suddenly choked back tears and gave Dag the hug he used to give him when he was an impulsive child. He clung to him and stifled his sobs against his shoulder. Dag patted his back and stroked his blond curls just as he did when Cort was a child.

  After a moment they drew apart and exchanged a smile of love and respect that soothed the ache in Cort’s heart. How hard it would be to say goodbye to this good man who had loved him as tenderly as though he were his own son! But it had to be…

  “I shall write and let you and Judoc know where we are and how we fare,” he promised. “I do not know where we shall go; we may travel for a while. Siv and my mother have seen nothing of the world but Trekur Lende and Eirinia, and it would be an adventure for them to see new places. I may take them to Lycenium and visit Marcus and Tullia, or to Solone and introduce them to our old friend Kyrene. Who knows?”

  He said this last with a lilt in his voice, and Dag remembered that Cort had always loved new places and experiences. He hoped that his travels would bring him only joy and no sorrow.

  Cort suddenly gave Dag a long look that held all of his unspoken love for this man in his eyes. Then he smiled slowly at him.

  “But, I shall come back to you one day, Father,” he whispered. “I promise you that.”

  The next day Cort packed up the family belongings and managed to avoid Melisande. According to Nolwenn she felt unwell and kept to her bed. Cort enjoined his younger sister to keep silent regarding his plans to leave with his wife and mother.

  It would only distress Melisande to see them go, he told her, and Nolwenn would not wish to upset her, would she?

  A week after Cort’s departure Dag fell ill with a cold. It did not visit him lightly, but seemed determined to settle in for a long stay. Dag hated colds, disliking the stuffy nose, sore throat, and heavy head that accompanied them. Judoc bade him to stay home from the fields and rest in bed, the quicker to recover.

  Privately she suspected that Cort’s departure and the reason behind it wounded Dag to the point of being unable to resist illness. It was his heart that ailed, but she could not point that out to her stoic husband.

  Dag spent a fitful week tossing and turning in his bed, seeming unable to find a position of comfort. His cold appeared worse to Judoc and she began to worry about him. She plied him with soothing drinks for his throat and sang softly to him, the lullabies she had crooned over their children when they were babes. One in particular had always been their favorite, and this she sang to him now.

  “Hush my babe and I’ll sing to you,

  Of a land that is green and fair,

  Where sea mists meet the morning dew,

  And the songs of birds fill the air.

  There my heart will forever dwell,

  No matter where my feet may roam.

  For that land of emerald dell,

  Is the place that I will call home.”

  This calmed Dag and a smile creased his lips when she finished. She kissed his forehead tenderly and stroked his brow. As she turned from his she saw her youngest daughter enter the room.

  Nolwenn appeared worried about her father, and coming on the heels of Cort’s leaving the family, her concern wrung the heart of her mother. Nolwenn had always had a tender affection for her father, and it displayed itself during his illness with offers of comfort, of laying her hand on his brow, of reading quietly to him as he lay in bed.

  Judoc rose and went to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal, and Nolwenn announced that she had made a soothing drink for her father that would greatly improve his comfort. She raised him slightly in his bed and put the drink to his lips. Dag smiled at her affectionately and sipped the drink. He made a wry face, but Nolwenn urged him to finish it.

  “Come, Father,” she urged. “You must drink all of it if you are to get well. It distresses me so to see you in such discomfort, and this will help, truly it will.”

  “If you say so,” Dag smiled indulgently at her.

  He permitted her to raise the cup to his lips and he braced himself to swallow the entire draught. Before he had finished, however, his lips puckered, and he was overcome by a dry cough that hacked at his body, doubling him over as he struggled to stop. His breath suddenly strangled in his throat, and Nolwenn saw with alarm that he was turning blue.

  Dag raised his hands to his throat, and clawed at it. His breath was coming in shallow gasps now, and a rattling noise erupted from his throat. Aware now that something was wrong, Nolwenn put an arm around his back and lifted him to a full sitting position.

  Abruptly the sound of gasping ceased, and Dag went limp. Nolwenn stared into his face; only staring eyes met her gaze. Chills raced up and down her body as she looked at the face of her father, so silent, so pale…

  Judoc entered the room at that moment and took in the scene with one glance. A cry erupted from her lips and she tore to Dag’s side. She clutched him in her arms and put her head to his chest. But only silence met her…

  “Dag!” she wailed in agony, as tears streamed down her face gone ashen with fear. “Dag, answer me!”

  Her screams brought Dirk, who was just entering the hut, running to her side. He took one look at Dag’s face and took command.

  “Father!” he shouted. “Father, breathe deeply.”

  “He is dead!” Judoc said, her voice choked with tears. “He is dead.”

  Dirk listened to Dag’s chest.

  “No, he is not dead, Mother,” he assured her. “Although I believe he is close to it.”

  He suddenly grabbed Judoc’s hands.

  “Come, we must pray,” he urged her.

  Judoc attempted to recover herself, smitten with remorse by the look of panic on Nolwenn’s face. She took her daughter’s hand and the three of them drew closely together in a circle.

  “Dominio,” Dirk prayed, “please grant mercy and preserve my father’s life. He loves You, Dominio, and has many years to serve You yet. We ask that You preserve him and restore him now to full health.”

  No sooner had the words left Dirk’s lips than Judoc noticed a new sound in the room.

  Dag was breathing once more, taking deep and easy breaths that were no longer racked with pain. She cried out in joy and rushed to him.

  “Oh, Dag,” she whimpered as she kissed first his forehead, then his cheek, and
then his lips, “oh, Dag, my darling. I could not have borne it if I had lost you.”

  He turned to face her and tenderly wound one of her coppery tendrils around his finger; then looked over his shoulder to the anxious faces of his children.

  “I feel better,” he pronounced. “I had my doubts, Nolwenn, but whatever was in that cup you gave me did something.”

  Dirk snorted impatiently.

  “It certainly did, Father,” he fumed. “It nearly killed you. It was our prayers to Dominio that saved your life. Were it not for Dominio, you would have joined Brenus in his eternal rest.”

  Chapter XXVIII

  Antonius

  Marcus puzzled over the abrupt departure of his wife and son. It was not like his wife to dash off and not leave a message for him. Even if Tullia expected to return later than usual from visiting friends she always left a message for him. And to depart for anywhere in such a hurry was unlike her at all.

  He was startled by a voice that trumpeted through the atrium, and was greeted by his mother-in-law Drusilla, who hailed him and rushed to embrace him.

  “Marcus! How wonderful to have you home again! Felicia and I have been very lonely with the rest of the family away and no visitors with the lady of the house gone.”

  Marcus returned the embrace and agreed that the villa must have seemed empty indeed. The three of them decided to take a turn in the garden where the roses would be at their peak and a cool breeze would refresh them. As they strolled amiably through the bricked walks and paused to smell the roses and carnations Marcus felt himself unwind and relax.

  He was sure that Tullia and Lucius were alright, wherever they were. After all, they had one another for protection and company. But what emergency sent them fleeing so abruptly? And why had they not left a message for him, informing him of their mission and whereabouts?

  After the evening meal Otho announced a visitor. To the surprise of Marcus, Antonius entered the family sitting room. He was genuinely glad to see the young man of whom he had grown so fond, but his last news of Decimus was that he was bound for Valerium and he expected that his wife and son would have traveled with him.

  He rose from his seat and greeted Antonius fondly. Antonius appeared delighted to see him, but Marcus noticed the young man’s eyes dart immediately from him to Felicia and light up. His daughter smiled and blushed, and dropped her glance.

  What is this, he wondered. Have they met already while I was away? Is there some attraction brewing that I should be aware of?

  He realized suddenly that he would not be pleased with such a circumstance. The last thing in the world he would desire would be to see his daughter involved with the son of his old enemy.

  He kept his disquiet to himself, but took the first opportunity to satisfy his curiosity.

  “Antonius,” he began, “this is my daughter, Felicia. She has been away in Solone and has only lately returned.”

  Antonius grinned so broadly that it was a wonder his face did not split in half. He suddenly caught his breath and released it in what seemed to Marcus a sigh of rapture. And he did not like the dreamy gaze that he bestowed on Felicia either…

  “Yes, I know,” Antonius stammered. “I mean, that is to say, we have met.”

  “Yes, Father, we have met,” Felicia stated as she returned Antonius’ smile and gaze, both of which were too bright for her father’s comfort.

  “Oh?” Marcus questioned. “When was that?”

  “Oh, I really couldn’t say,” Felicia blurted. “Perhaps a month or so ago, would you say, Antonius?”

  “Yes, I would say about that,” the young man agreed, nodding his head for emphasis.

  Marcus decided he did not like the manner in which they looked at each other. Something was happening here that disturbed him, and he had a growing sense that they were keeping something back from him.

  “Well,” he remarked with a casual air. “How did you meet?”

  Felicia exchanged a glance with Antonius that appeared furtive to her father’s anxious eyes. Was she silently warning him about something? And yet he had never told his daughter the history he had with Hadrianus, so why would she hide anything from him?

  “I happened to call one day to see Lucius and met Felicia instead,” Antonius explained, his eyes never leaving Felicia’s.

  “Is that so?” Marcus questioned, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Felicia said Lucius had already left before she returned home from Solone.”

  ‘Yes, yes, that is so,” Antonius stammered as his face reddened. “I was unaware that Lucius was not here, but I met Felicia.”

  “Yes, Father, that is so,” Felicia agreed hastily.

  “Indeed?” Marcus asked, his voice sounding strained and unnatural to his own ears as an unreasonable fear suddenly took hold of him. “But your grandmother said there have been no visitors since Tullia left. Are you telling me that she knew nothing of this visit?”

  He heard a swift intake of breath erupt from Drusilla.

  “Why, I did not know of this visit! Had I known, I assure you I would have asked Antonius to join us for the evening meal. Felicia, you have been remiss in your manners! A lady always invites a friend of the family to dine with them!”

  Felicia rolled her eyes but visibly restrained herself, Marcus noted. She chose to ignore her grandmother’s outburst and address her father instead.

  “Well, no, I suppose she did not know,” Felicia replied, with an effort to keep her own voice steady. “I was in the garden and Antonius came out there looking for Lucius. Grandmother was upstairs resting.”

  She turned to Drusilla with an air of conciliation.

  “I suppose I just did not mention it to you, Grandmother.”

  “Well, I see you have returned from your school just in time,” Drusilla tut tutted. “It is evident that you certainly did not learn any manners there!”

  “I see,” Marcus commented as his eyes riveted on his daughter’s blushing face.

  She is hiding something from me, I am certain of it! he thought. He decided he would wait until Antonius left, and then question her until he was satisfied she told the truth.

  Antonius spent an hour with them and Marcus admitted that he did genuinely enjoy the young man’s company and conversation. He was thoroughly committed to Alexandros and the cause of the Kingdom. If only he had been sired by a different father!

  This meditation led him to another train of thought.

  “Antonius,” he said, “I am surprised that you are at home. Did not your parents leave for Valerium? I would have expected that you traveled with them?”

  Antonius wrinkled his brow in obvious surprise.

  “Why, no sir,” he answered. “My mother is at home with me. And I do not know why you suppose my father is in Valerium. He went to visit a sick uncle in Lucerna.”

  “Lucerna!” Drusilla shrieked. “Who lives in Lucerna? Why, I have known your family for years, Antonius: I am unaware of any uncle in Lucerna.”

  Antonius now appeared truly mystified. He glanced in bewilderment from Drusilla to Marcus and back again.

  “But, but, that is what he told my mother,” he said in a strained voice. “I see no reason why he should tell us that if it were not so.”

  Marcus found himself pained by the questions in the young man’s eyes as he turned his gaze upon him. Clearly there was some mystery here that Antonius was unaware of, and Paulina as well. He had been informed by an eyewitness that Decimus was on a ship headed for Valerium, and Drusilla stated that Decimus did not have an uncle in Lucerna.

  And in view of his mother-in-law’s extensive knowledge of every family of prominence in Lycenium, he would stake his life that she knew the facts better than Antonius did in regards to his father’s family.

  But why would Decimus lie to his own wife and son in regards to his destination? What evil was he up to?

  Chapter XXIX

  The Marriage

  “Alright Felicia: what is it you are not telling me?” Marcus deman
ded.

  Antonius had taken his leave and Drusilla had retired to bed. Felicia was about to follow suit when Marcus grabbed her arm to retain her. She cast an anxious glance up at him, but smiled at her grandmother and wished her good night.

  Now they were alone and she sensed a storm was coming.

  “Why, what do you mean, Father?” she hedged, as she stalled for time to think.

  “You know full well what I mean! Why did you not tell your grandmother that you met Antonius? And why did you not invite him to dine, as you know your mother would have done had she been here?”

  “Well, I am not my mother,” Felicia said with a shrug of her shoulders. “And I do not think it such a horrible breach of manners to not invite him; after all, I am not the lady of the house. And I simply forgot to mention his visit to Grandmother.”

  She attempted to look her father calmly in the eyes, but she reddened and her eyes fell before his boring stare.

  She has never been able to lie, Marcus thought. Lucius can lie through his teeth and convince anyone he is telling the truth, but my daughter is too honest to succeed in lying.

  “You are lying!” he erupted. “And I demand that you tell me why. It is clear to me from watching you two that you and Antonius know each other a little better than having one casual encounter. How well do you know him?”

  Felicia’s face was now so red that her lips appeared pale in comparison. Her eyes filled with tears, and she began hiccupping with the effort to suppress them. Marcus knew now that she was lying for certain.

  “Have out with it, young lady! I insist you tell me at once. And you will not leave this room until I am satisfied you are telling me the truth, even if you keep me here all night and all day tomorrow and you faint from hunger and lack of sleep.”

  Felicia now burst into a storm of weeping and turned from Marcus. She sat down abruptly in a chair and held her sleeve to her face, crying into it and wiping her nose.