by L. M. Roth
“Do you know, Father, I have quite forgotten why we came to Lucerna.”
Chapter XXXIV
Tidings of Woe
Cort entrusted his destination to the leading of Dominio. He did not know where he could go; he was still an exile in his homeland and no other choice seemed to present itself. He thought that he would like to see Lycenium again, and he could perhaps assist Marcus with the work of the Kingdom there. But he could not picture his mother, so used to miles of trees in her native land, and now accustomed to the primitive wilderness of Eirinia, truly making a home in that cultivated city.
He sought Dominio for guidance, and discovered that just as in the time he had spent so recently in Trekur Lende, he was to follow the path that was set for him. In Trekur Lende his chosen path stayed miraculously free of snow. Now the path for his feet was illuminated with a faint green glow, barely distinguishable from the grass it originated in. For there was no actual path, merely a glow that spread before his feet.
Siv and Brit caught their breath in amazement when they first beheld it. They had left the village of Leith, and Cort confessed that he did not know where they were to go.
“I can not return to Trekur Lende, and I am at a loss about where to go next,” he said in answer to their queries.
He was met with a blank stare from Brit, who had been so abruptly parted from her good friend Judoc and uprooted from Leith just as it was beginning to feel like home. But she said nothing.
Siv sighed and smiled tenderly at her husband. She came to stand beside him and linked her arm through his.
“Well then, dear husband,” she murmured sweetly, “perhaps we should pray and ask Dominio to guide us to our destination.”
Cort chided himself. This was of course the answer. It was just like Siv to suggest the solution to his dilemma. Good Dominio, to have given him this prudent woman for a wife!
“Of course,” he answered. “We shall pray.”
They bowed their heads and clasped their hands together.
“Good Dominio, we owe everything in our lives to You; to Your love, provision, and goodness. We have left home and family behind us. Show us where You want us to go where we can serve You and extend Your Kingdom,” Cort prayed in a firm voice, resolved now to follow wherever he was sent.
It was Brit who cried out suddenly and pointed to the grass at their feet. A strange soft glow that led away in a straight line shone before them. Siv’s face lit up in amazement, and she laughed in pure delight. Cort heaved a sigh of immense relief before joining in his wife’s laughter.
And so they set out, following the glowing path, their hearts yielded to Dominio, and trusting Him to lead and guide them to their destination.
It was not long before Cort realized that their path was leading in a southerly direction. If it kept to this course they would soon leave Eirinia behind them and enter the boundaries of Valerium via the land route. That this was indeed their destination was confirmed the further along they traveled.
The woods and hills of Eirinia had taken on a new and disturbing quality since the last time Cort had trekked through them. He found himself looking furtively over his shoulder, careful not to let Siv and Brit see him do it. He almost expected voices to speak to him, certain that he could hear the faint whispers of he knew not what that transmitted silent messages through the air…
He did not speak of these things to the others. He had not shared with them the legends of Eirinia, and thought it best to keep those tales to himself. For if they knew of them, he reasoned, they would not be able to sleep at night for the terror of the unseen beings that walked by night. And yet, he heard at times the rustle of grass moved by an invisible wanderer, and the silence of the birds and animals who hushed their voices lest they be detected by hostile visitors.
It was with genuine relief when the day came that brought them to the borders of Valerium. Cort was not afraid to enter here, although he had heard from Marcus the banishing of the Alexandrians from its environs. He himself, however, had not seen Governor Urbanus in more than twenty years, and he did not think the Emperor would recognize the small boy in the tall young man he had become.
He determined for the safety of Siv and Brit to concoct a reasonable story for their presence in Valerium that would satisfy the curious and lull the suspicions of the hostile. He decided to present himself as a humble man whose aged mother was seeking relief for her infirm limbs in the baths of Potentus. He recalled them from his previous visit to the city many years before, and remembered Felix’s account of their healing properties. Surely that was a good excuse for entering Potentus, was it not?
They entered unmolested after stating their business. Indignant at first that her son would think her so advanced in age, Brit at first had refused to participate in such a ruse. But the obstinacy in her son’s face weakened her resistance and she agreed to indulge him.
Thus committed she presented a very convincing act to the guards, bending over double and moaning in pretended pain. She attempted to straighten herself to salute the guards at the gates of the city, only to fall back into her stoop, the worse for her efforts.
“Pardon me, sirs,” she whimpered. “I do not mean to be rude, but you will forgive an old woman in her infirmity, will you not?”
The guards exchanged a bemused glance and a shrug.
“Enter,” they said indifferently, their duties too great to worry about one old woman and her son and his wife.
Brit did not straighten her posture until they were well out of sight. When they arrived at an inn, Cort persuaded her to continue her charade to convince the proprietor and the other guests of the truth of her pretext.
Brit sighed and cuffed her son on the shoulder.
“If only you were still small enough to spank,” she murmured.
The baths were visited and enjoyed by all. What a marvel, Brit exclaimed. If she had been infirm she would have soon been healed, of that there was no doubt! They spent some time loitering in the busy streets. Potentus was the first large city that Brit and Siv had ever seen and everywhere they looked were new wonders to meet their dazzled eyes.
They marveled over the great stone bridges that spanned the river, and the statues of the great and renowned that crowned their balustrades. They thrilled to the sound of the bells that rang whenever a new ship docked into port, welcoming the travelers home after their voyage. And the baths were faithfully visited daily, both women reveling in the warm waters and the pleasant conversation of the ladies they met.
Cort did not know why they were led to Potentus, but the path had led them to it and he must trust Domino for the purpose of their visit. Until that purpose was revealed he spent the time showing Siv and Brit the square where the men of the city met every morning to discuss the news of the day. He led them through the busy markets where the slaves came to buy the food their masters would require for their households that day. He even took them to the Imperial Palace, which they glimpsed through the gates of black iron that encompassed it, and caught their breath at the magnificent structure of black granite streaked with rose-red.
Siv exclaimed over its imposing appearance, and then suddenly shivered.
“Are you all right, Siv?” Cort inquired anxiously as he put an arm around her trembling shoulders.
Siv shook her head as if clearing cobwebs from a corner in a dusty room.
“No,” she said slowly. “For suddenly I had an impression of death; the black was like a shadow looming up from I know not where, and the rose-red was like that of blood being poured out.”
She shivered again, and Cort drew her close and held her for a moment. He realized that he was shivering as well. Had Siv had a vision of doom to come?
The next day Cort rose before Siv and Brit and ambled down to the square. He had fallen into the habit of coming here to obtain the news of the day. He had casually nodded to the other men the first time he came, aware that he was a stranger among them. They looked at him curiously at first, but soo
n greeted him with a welcoming smile when he appeared.
On this day the news was being discussed in the usual manner.
“Another Alexandrian was cast out of the city yesterday,” said one well-fed patrician with curls of iron gray and a stout belly that swelled visibly from the folds of his robe. “And good riddance to him, I say.”
One of the men shook his head and remonstrated with the first man.
“Not a good thing; for if the Emperor can banish Alexandrians, why should he stop there? Why not banish you, or me, or anyone for an imagined offense? It is not a good thing to banish anyone, whether we ridicule their beliefs or not.”
The first man glanced sharply at the speaker, and then slowly nodded his head.
“Yes, I see,” he muttered. “I see what you mean. We must all be careful not to offend the Emperor for fear of banishment.”
“Or worse,” chimed in a third man. “I do not know what has come over Emperor Urbanus. He was always a just and benevolent ruler.”
“I will tell you what has come over him,” another man stated. “He has fallen under the spell of a flattering snake. And we all know who that snake is. What I say is this: let us cut off the head of the snake and that will deal with its lying tongue that seeks only to advance itself and harm all who quarrel with it.”
“Hush!” urged the second speaker. “You do not know whether any here is perhaps one of his sandal licking toadies.”
Cort listened avidly to this conversation, aware that they spoke of none other than Iacomus Cornelius. He forced his face into bland lines that bespoke an indifference to the matter at hand. It would be well to be quiet and listen, and learn all that he could of the state of matters in Valerium, and those who influenced its ruler…
Just then a young man came running into their midst. He flung himself down and panted for breath.
“Woe to us!” he exclaimed before relapsing into panting once more.
“What ails you?” another man said impatiently. “What news?”
“News?” repeated the man. “Tidings of woe, I have to relate. Woe to us!”
The other men clustered in a circle about him, frantic now to hear his account.
“Speak and keep us in suspense no longer!” one of them exclaimed.
The man who had run into their midst had finally recovered his breath. He looked upon his companions with a long face and slowly stood up in their midst.
“Emperor Urbanus,” he intoned in a voice of bleak despair, “has just passed out of this world.”
There was a collective gasp from the men assembled. They turned to one another to discuss how this could impact the Empire, and the citizenry. Before they could speak, however, the man held up a hand for silence.
“And his successor has been named,” he stated.
It was so silent in the square now that Cort could hear the toot of a whistle from the harbor two miles away, as each man leaned in to hear the news. Everyone knew that the Emperor was childless, and the matter of his succession was one that was often discussed among the Valerian people.
“That successor,” the man continued, “is none other than the Emperor’s dear friend, Iacomus Cornelius, who has already been sworn in at the Emperor’s deathbed to guard and watch over us.”
Chapter XXXV
The Fate of Logos
It was with difficulty that Marcus was able to get any further news out of Lucius. The young man stated that both he and his mother had forgotten the reason they came to Lucerna. And if he were to be believed, a strange fruit that made one forget all of their troubles was responsible for the memory lapse they suffered.
He suddenly recalled the words of the old woman in the marketplace and the bottle she had tried to thrust on him. Marcus frowned, but he was reluctant to believe the words of a woman who sold such potions for a living. For one thing, sellers of potions frequently lied, and even if she were proved true her information no doubt came from a spirit of divination, and Dominio had expressly forbidden such practices, as power of that kind emanated from the Astra who empowered those who sought them out for such evil purposes.
No, he would resist the temptation to return and obtain the bottle with the potion that would restore memory. He suddenly remembered her words, that the potion was for his true love who “has forgotten something of great importance to you.” He realized that the words referred to Tullia alone; yet Lucius stated that he had forgotten as well. Why did the woman mention only Tullia and not Lucius?
He decided that the best course would be to let the effects of the faran wear off. If it wore off. Marcus hoped it was merely a temporary effect and not permanent. And once the effects wore off by abstaining from the fruit, Tullia’s memory would be restored and she would remember what emergency had sent her to Lucerna in pursuit of the man she hated and feared above all others in the world.
Marcus decided to share this information with Lucius in the hope that it would jog his memory. Perhaps he might recall what the hunt was about if he was told who their quarry was. He could not, however, say anything in front of Antonius, who was still in the dark in regards to the calamities of evil to which his father was capable of executing.
One day as they journeyed along, Marcus asked Lucius to accompany him on horseback and permit Antonius to ride in the carriage. It would do the young man good, he stated, to be out of the elements for a day, as scurrying clouds warned of rain to come. Lucius knew how easily Antonius took ill, and graciously gave his friend the carriage and rode with his father.
Their pace had slowed now that Marcus no longer felt the urgency to find his family, and they rode behind the carriage at a moderate trot.
“Tell me, Lucius,” he began. “Why did you and your mother set out in search of Decimus? Paulina told me that Tullia called on her the day you left and departed in a great hurry after she was informed that Decimus left to visit a sick uncle in Lucerna.”
Lucius was careful not to look at his father, lest the panic in his eyes betray his guilt. He should have known that his father would have been told to search for them in Lucerna, otherwise he would not have found them here.
“Well, I told you, Father,” he stammered. “I have forgotten as well as Mother why we came here.”
He hoped that would pacify his father, but Marcus shot him a piercing glance from his keen gray eyes. How long could he keep the truth from him?
“It must have been dire for Tullia to seek out the man she hates and fears so greatly,” Marcus persisted. “She would not have set out unless the matter was so urgent that she could not wait for my return, and to leave it for me to follow Decimus.”
Lucius shrugged his shoulders helplessly as he fought a rising urge to panic and confess everything. Yet he feared his father’s wrath only a little less than he feared Dominio’s. Why could his father not let the matter rest?
“Yes, it must have been urgent,” he agreed with a voice that took considerable effort to prevent from shaking.
Marcus stared at the young man, convinced now that Lucius was not telling the whole truth. What is he holding back from me, he wondered. And why does he betray himself with his fear whenever I question him?
They arrived back in Lycenium within three weeks of their outset after traveling from daybreak to sundown. Tullia stumbled wearily out of the carriage and Marcus led her by the arm into the villa.
“I feel as though I could sleep for a week!” she muttered. “Just lead me to my bedchamber, Marcus!”
Marcus felt an overwhelming tenderness for her, and suddenly scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs to her chamber, kissing her forehead as he did so. He returned to the atrium and was greeted by Felicia, whom Otho had released after he judged Marcus and Antonius to be too far gone for pursuit. It would not do to keep the daughter of the house locked away for fear of gossip. So the good man had relented and freed her from her impromptu prison.
It was a sullen daughter who greeted Marcus. Her eyes still smoldered like blazing coals with
the remembered indignity of her punishment, but they shone like stars at the sight of Antonius. The young man cast a pleading glance at his father-in-law and Marcus nodded reluctantly. Antonius rushed to Felicia and embraced her warmly. She held up her face for his kiss, which was passionately bestowed, and Marcus felt a pang at the sight.
How quickly she has grown up, he thought. And how happy I would be for her were it not for the fact that her husband is the son of my enemy…
Lucius was astounded at the sight of his best friend embracing and kissing his sister, and he let out a startled exclamation, which was promptly quenched by his father.
“Later, Lucius: I shall tell you later,” he said, his weariness infecting even the tone of his voice.
Then he suddenly cast a sharp glance at his son.
“Perhaps when you have told me everything about your urgent mission.”
Lucius reddened and gulped hastily. Marcus took no pity on him, as he was now convinced that there was something Lucius withheld from him.
Otho entered just then with a scroll that he presented to Marcus.
“This letter just arrived for you, sir.”
“Thank you, Otho,” he said as he took the letter and headed for the library to read it in privacy.
He closed the door quietly and settled into a favorite chair, putting his feet upon a footstool that stood nearby. He paused for a moment to sigh deeply and rest his head on the back of the chair. When he was comfortably situated he slit the seal and opened the scroll.
It was from Cort, but to his surprise, it came from Valerium, from Potentus itself. He read with growing disbelief as alarm spread rapidly through every fiber of his being.
No, it could not be! But it was. Emperor Urbanus, his old friend, had died! And his successor was none other than Iacomus Cornelius, the snake who had instigated the banishment of the Alexandrians from Valerium.
