by L. M. Roth
July was now bestowing its heat in full, and Dag suffered accordingly. Long accustomed to the colder climate of Trekur Lende he did not fare well in warm weather. Thanks to the ocean breezes in Eirinia the land was more temperate and he had adjusted to life there with little difficulty. Now, however, the sun beat down from overhead and a lazy somnolence appeared to have settled on the land, making even the guards yawn with a sudden stupor.
As he thought of Eirinia, Dag wondered how his family fared there. That the state of affairs he left behind there was dire he knew full well. What would become of Melisande once the child was borne? How could he or his wife bear her continued presence after her most recent action? It was true that they had no proof of her attempt on Dag’s life, yet no other explanation was possible.
He reflected back on his conversation with his wife a few days after the family dinner that had distressed them all so deeply.
“It had to be her, Dag,” Judoc insisted. “I questioned Nolwenn and she admitted that she called at Melisande’s hut and mentioned the healing potion she bought from Yuna, the wise woman. And that she left Melisande to fetch cold water for her. She had the opportunity.”
Here she paused and wetted her lips nervously before proceeding.
“And Dirk told me he called on Yuna to try to wheedle some information out of her. And she told him of her own accord that Melisande is very helpful to her, bringing herbs to her when she gathers her own for stew, and has been taking instruction from her on which herbs are medicinal and which ones poisonous. It had to be Melisande, I tell you.”
Dag frowned uncertainly, reluctant to believe evil of anyone. Yet he had never trusted Brenus’ wife, and in view of her family background she had the motive to do Dag some harm; and the malice of will to do the deed.
He had not questioned Melisande, though his wife and son urged him to take action. He thought of the coming baby and wished to do nothing that might harm the child or cause his daughter-in-law to lose it. When all was said and done, this was still the child of his wife’s eldest son, and the only reminder they would ever have of their dear Brenus…
He thought it best to remove himself for a while, until the charged atmosphere had cooled down, and to give Melisande a calm environment to focus on the pending birth of the child. Perhaps if the source of her antagonism was absent, she might be able to improve her relationship with Judoc and they could be of solace to one another. He knew that not only did Judoc grieve for the loss of her son, but now she was bereft of Cort, who had left them so abruptly, and his mother Brit, who was such a dear companion.
Dag wondered at the wisdom of his action in leaving her at such a time, but he comforted himself with the thought that Judoc still had Dirk and their eldest daughter Maelys to cheer her in her time of mourning, and to depend on should she need help with the younger children. And Dirk would be on the alert for any further trouble on the part of Melisande. As for Maelys, he knew that she had never liked Melisande, and would be as vigilant as her brother in watching for signs of impending danger from that quarter.
Dag paused in his recollections to consider his eldest daughter. Maelys was likely going to be a cause of concern at some time in the near future. She was tall and stately, with a loveliness that outshone all of the other village maidens, and eclipsed her younger sister Nolwenn, who was undeniably pretty, but would never be the beauty her sister was. Already there were young men who vied for her favor, and she seemed both pleased and annoyed by their attention. That she would be pleased Dag had expected: but he also at times detected her rolling her eyes or sighing when some young man from the village paid her a compliment or asked to walk with her through the village green in the evening.
One evening shortly before Cort departed, he decided to take a walk with her himself to satisfy his curiosity in the matter. She had willingly accompanied him, taking his arm and linking it affectionately through her own. As they meandered down the narrow dirt path that comprised the main street of the village, encountering small children playing until the last possible moment in the warm summer air, Dag’s unspoken question was answered before he even asked it by a chance meeting with one of the many young men who clamored for his daughter’s attention.
“Good evening, Maelys,” said Tomos, the son of the village carpenter. “A fair one it is, too!”
He smilingly blushed as he bowed to her, his eyes lighting at the sight of her fair face. Maelys returned the smile briefly and wished him good-night.
When Tomos was gone from their sight she permitted herself the luxury of a sigh.
“Why did you do that?” Dag inquired.
Maelys merely sighed again and shrugged her shoulders.
“He is just like all of the others,” she answered. “All the same, all alike. In all the village not a one is different from the other.”
“And what does that mean, daughter?” Dag asked as he turned around to face her.
Maelys puckered her lips slightly and frowned as if deep in thought. She appeared to be searching for words to give vent to her frustration before she answered his question.
“Well,” she began in a low voice, drawling out her words in her attempts at concentration. “All of them speak of the same things: the crops and spring sowing, the summer and the harvest, and whether the day will have rain or be fair. That is really all they ever speak of, Father. And I find it unbearably dull at times, that I do. I just wish that at least one of them could talk of other things, exciting things, things that would interest me: for I must admit that they bore me to tears.”
And Maelys gave a sigh even deeper than the previous one. Dag found himself amused, yet understood her frustration at being forced to listen to the same dull remarks repeatedly, with no hope of escaping their certain repetition.
“Do you know what I should like to do, Father?” Maelys turned to him with sparkling eyes. “I should like to see something of the world, that I would! I would like to travel to Lycenium, for Cort has told me much of it, and see the bazaar full of goods from all over the world, and the plays in the amphitheater, and listen to glorious music that is heard nowhere else! He told me so, and I have never known Cort to lie, so Lycenium must be truly sublime! Is it, Father? You visited there yourself, although many years ago.”
Dag smiled at her indulgently; ah, the need of the young for excitement and change! He could not fault Maelys, for it was true that in Eirinia, as in his own homeland of Trekur Lende, nothing really happened of any note. One day passed much as another and for one who thrived on excitement as she did, life could be an exercise in boredom at times. He privately wondered if this was not the real reason she goaded Melisande at times, simply to stir things up and watch the sparks fly to enjoy a brief moment of drama and relief from the tedium of everyday life.
Now, however, he simply attempted to answer her eager questions.
“Yah, Lycenium is a grand city. I spent many happy hours in the library, which housed so many great works. Cort preferred the plays in the amphitheater. And the music is like none heard elsewhere: Cort did not tease you about that!”
Maelys’ lovely face took on a yearning expression that touched her father’s heart. He had been so content in Eirinia all these years that it never occurred to him that other members of the family were not so satisfied. Even Cort, who loved adventure, had never complained of the confinement of life in this lonely village. Yet Dag realized that he craved the experience of seeing new places at times. It was understandable as he had traveled extensively with Dag and Marcus Maximus as a small boy. But for his daughter who had been born and raised in Eirinia to feel that boredom was something he had never taken into account.
“Perhaps,” he said to her now, “after the harvest is in I shall go to Lycenium and visit my old friend Marcus, and you can accompany me. It would do you some good to see something of the world. But we must approve this with your mother, and she is too distraught to worry with such a matter now.”
Maelys clapped her hands together an
d bestowed a radiant smile on Dag.
“Oh, Father! That would be all I could ask, too wonderful for words! To see something beyond these endless hills and woods and the sea mist. They are lovely, it is true, but I yearn to see a city, a real city, a great city!”
And she flung her arms around Dag and embraced him tightly.
So lost was he in his recollections that Dag failed to notice the approach of the two guards who now accosted him, pointing their swords at him at arm’s length.
“State your business! Who are you, and what brings you to Valerium?” one of them barked in a metallic voice that rang of steely resolve.
Dag was not perturbed: he had nothing to hide, and therefore nothing to fear.
“I am a citizen of Eirinia, and I wish to spend some time in Potentus,” he stated simply.
“For what purpose,” the guard snapped at him.
“No purpose except as a change from my land, which is naught but hills and sheep, and hills and sheep, and more hills and sheep.”
And Dag beamed a smile of dazzling innocence upon the guards. He hoped that would suffice, but the words of the guard proved how false that hope was.
“We will give you a change from your land alright,” the steely voiced one snarled. “No one is to enter or leave Valerium without the express permission of our exalted sovereign, Emperor Iacomus. You are under arrest and will be a guest in the royal dungeon, there to await the pleasure of His Grace, whether to release you or detain you at his will.”
Chapter III
A Destination Unknown
Cort decided it was of no further use to remain in Valerium. In fact, it would be most advisable for him to remove himself, along with his wife and mother, from the precincts of the Empire completely in view of the advent to power of Iacomus Cornelius and his evil henchman, Decimus Hadrianus. But where they would journey to next was a puzzle whose solution eluded him.
He could not return to Eirinia, that he knew only too well. The last person he wished to see was Melisande, always watching him with sidelong glances, stalking him for opportunities to catch him alone. And the malice she bore Siv did not bode well for warm family relations between the sisters-in-law.
He missed Dag and Judoc, and longed to hear their voices once more, Dag’s so deep and booming, full of a robust vitality, and Judoc’s light and lilting and so ready to burst into song as she bustled busily around the hut. He wondered how his siblings fared: was Dirk ready to stand with his father once more against Niamh and the other villagers in their attempts to take the villagers back to their old ways if need be? How like their father Dirk was in appearance! With his great height and broad shoulders he towered over other men, just as Dag still did. And how proud Cort was of this brother who was so quickly growing into a man!
He wondered how Maelys got on without the companionship of Siv. Maelys had always been close to their younger sister Nolwenn, but the coming of Melisande had brought strain between them, as Nolwenn promptly attached herself to their new sister-in-law while Maelys loathed even the sight of her. The tension between them at times was more than Cort could bear to watch as he sensed that Nolwenn was in some way pulled between them. How much trouble Melisande had brought on the family! He asked himself again how Brenus had ever been so taken in by this woman who had revealed nothing of her origins or her family.
As for his young brother Brand, Cort did not worry about him. Brand was a dreamer, but gentle of manner and easy of temper. Nothing ever upset his calm temperament, or induced him to take sides when the rest of the family quarreled, it being a distinction of the Eirini people to wrangle, violently and often. Brand, however, had inherited his father’s stoic nature; like Dag and Cort, he was a true Trekur Lender.
The one worry Cort had gnawing at him was what would happen with the people of Leith. The villagers had shown unexpected rebellion at Spring Festival, and he wondered how far they would take it. Would Niamh and her sister Enora succeed in turning their hearts away from Dominio, and spreading the kingdom of Alexandros? Would they succeed in luring the villagers back into idolatry?
He decided to take a solitary walk in order to seek Dominio and His will regarding where he was to go next. As he strolled through the streets of Potentus he became aware of a new current pulsing beneath the surface of Valerium’s capital: the citizenry, one and all, bore an identical look of fear and uncertainty. Cort saw the furtive glances, heard the voices lowered to whispers, felt the sense of being carried along on a tide of foreboding. And he thought he understood why.
In all of the Empire’s history, never had it found itself in the position it now faced. Always before there had been an heir of the ruler, known to the populace, who gave a reasonable expectation of what fate awaited the people after the sovereign’s demise. Never before had there been an Emperor without a son or daughter or close kin who would assume the duties of governing upon his death: but Urbanus was the last of his line. And Iacomus Cornelius was a man already feared by the men of the city, and one they deemed untrustworthy. What would befall the Valerian people once he had assumed power?
And what would ultimately become of the Alexandrians, already prohibited from practicing their faith by the late Emperor Urbanus? How much would matters deteriorate further under Iacomus, the wolf in sheep’s clothing who betrayed them?
At last as Cort ambled through the city he found his steps had taken him to the port. As he stood gazing on the great ships that were sent out through the Empire’s vast domain to transact her business, and bring back her goods from afar, he felt a tugging in his spirit to a particular one. He thought at first that he only imagined it, but the feeling persisted.
A sleek craft that was somewhat smaller than the passenger ships but larger than the fishing vessels caught his attention. There was nothing particularly unusual about it that it should have captured his fancy, yet he was drawn to it.
That one, he heard a small voice whisper in his ear. Take that one, and I will guide you to your destination.
A feeling of peace swept through him as he heard these words. He knew that Dominio spoke in many ways, and sometimes Cort did actually hear a voice, faint though it was. He was certain that in this instance, he was being divinely guided to the next step of his journey, although he had not the slightest idea where that journey would take him, or even where to begin.
He hastened back to the inn where Siv and his mother awaited him, and informed them of his decision. Without the least bit of hesitation they agreed to board the ship with him and let it take them where it was bound. Cort had inquired of the harbor master and discovered it was a merchant ship that would stop at many ports of call and take on the goods that Valerium required to ensure the satisfaction of its ruling class: textiles, spices, fine glassware and pottery.
It was a fair July day when they set out for a destination unknown. The gulls escorted them from the harbor, the white sails caught the breeze and expanded like a fleet of clouds in a summer sky, and the water before them was deep and hinted of mystery and adventure ahead. In spite of his circumstances Cort felt a thrill at heading for sea once more and all of the new lands that waited for them at the ports of call. Siv came to stand by his side, and as they clasped their hands together he saw the sparkle in her eyes and knew she would share in the delights of the voyage ahead.
It was only later that he would declare how differently he would have felt had he known that his father had been taken prisoner by the new Emperor the day after he left Potentus.
Chapter IV
A Secret Gift
Nolwenn had avoided Yuna since the day she had erupted in rage and cursed Melisande and the child she carried. The old woman made her vaguely uncomfortable with her bright black eyes that shone with the malice of a bird’s waiting to gobble up a hapless worm. They were eyes that were far-seeing also, missing nothing of any importance that might prove of value to their owner.
Of the family, Nolwenn was the only member who showed any concern for Melisande apart from th
e baby she would bear. She knew that her mother did not really like her daughter-in-law, and was kind to her merely for the sake of her dead son whose child she bore. As for Maelys, she had never attempted to hide her hostility toward Melisande, and Nolwenn felt a necessity to protect Melisande from it, not hesitating to lock horns with her own sister if need be.
She thought of the occasion shortly after their father left for Valerium when Maelys stood in the door of their hut, watching Nolwenn leaving Melisande’s. With irritation oozing from every pore of her body, her older sister stood with a hand on her hip and her chin cocked in that gesture of impatience that Nolwenn knew far too well.
“Why do you keep visiting that vixen?” Maelys upbraided her before Nolwenn had even entered their hut. “She’s naught but trouble, that one is, and I would think you would know it after what she has done to this family!”
Nolwenn sighed and returned the sullen look her older sister cast upon her. She secretly resented the way that Maelys continued to treat her like a child, even though she would soon be old enough for the young men to court. And Maelys had always acted like a second mother to her, scolding her in the manner that Judoc would, and even if Judoc had already done so. Nolwenn decided it was time for Maelys to learn that she could no longer be pushed around.
“I like her,” she said defiantly. “And you have just been jealous of her since the day Brenus married her. That is why you persist in finding fault with her for everything she does.”
“Oh, is that what she tells you?” Maelys snickered. “Jealous am I? Of what, may I ask? A woman who told our brother nothing but lies about herself, and drove another brother out of the family for months with her constant torment and false accusations?”
