by L. M. Roth
Nolwenn turned her back on her to leave but Maelys grabbed her arm.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she huffed as she swung her sister around to face her. “It’s time you knew the truth about your dear Melisande, for a greater liar and troublemaker I never saw!”
Just then Judoc entered the room with her hands full of vegetables she had picked from the garden for the evening meal. She took one look at her older daughter’s face and knew trouble was afoot.
“Stop it, Maelys!” she exclaimed. “Let go of your sister; let go of her, I tell you!”
Maelys reluctantly dropped Nolwenn’s arm. Nolwenn rubbed it as she glared at her sister: already there was a red mark where Maelys had gripped it so tightly. The girls exchanged one more look of fury before Maelys stomped out of the hut and left her mother to console her sister and tend to her arm.
On this particular day, Nolwenn had let herself out of the hut to fetch water from the spring. It was a task that she enjoyed, and even took on voluntarily, offering to spare her mother the chore. She delighted in the fresh morning air and the sound of the larks that accompanied her as she wandered from the village to the spring that lay nearby on the edge of the woods.
The bank was low, and she had no difficulty scrambling down over the rocks to the water’s edge. She dipped her bucket in the stream and closed her eyes as the sound of the water running over the rocks of its bed soothed her. The trees nearest the stream were covered with moss, and she loved the deep velvety green that looked like the robe of a fine lady draping the gray-green bark with a touch of luxury.
So engrossed was she in the sound of the stream that she did not hear the approach of footsteps. A shadow on the clear water startled her, and looking up, she found herself face to face with Yuna, who had come to the stream for the same purpose. Nolwenn wondered if she could make an excuse and leave, but Yuna was too quick for her.
“Good day,” she cackled in her thin old voice. “I see we are bound on similar errand. How fares your family?”
Nolwenn felt her face flush nervously; how she wished she had some of Maelys’ poise! Her sister was never at a loss for words, and Nolwenn envied her the ability to remain composed even when she was angry. But there was nothing she could do but return Yuna’s greeting.
“Yes, it is a good day; and a lovely one it will be too. Well, I must be off, I only came to fetch water and I’ve enough. Good day to you, Yuna.”
Nolwenn turned to leave but Yuna stopped her.
“Wait a moment, just a moment, miss,” the old voice commanded. “I wish for news of your father. I heard he left the village for a while. Why is that?”
Nolwenn was uncertain how to reply. She really did not know why her father had left: she had been told it was to visit his old friend Marcus Maximus, but Marcus had just paid them a visit so the explanation made no sense to her. Still, it seemed a reasonable excuse to give Yuna.
“I am told he left to visit an old friend,” she answered in a voice that quivered slightly. “I do not think he will be gone long.”
She gathered up her bucket and attempted to leave once more.
“Rather an odd time to visit an old friend wouldn’t you say, with a grandchild to be born so soon? Does he not want to be present for the birth?”
And Yuna narrowed her eyes as she stared at Nolwenn, alert for any cracks in the girl’s veneer. She pressed on with her line of questioning.
“Tell me what happened with the healing potion I gave you, Nolwenn,” she said in a voice that demanded obedience. “I have heard some strange tales. Some have said that I gave you the wrong potion, that it was poisonous and nearly killed your father. Bad for business that is, and my herbs and potions are my bread and butter so I’ll not brook such talk. I gave you a healing potion but he nearly died. Why is that?”
Nolwenn turned pale and tears filled her eyes. She tried to answer Yuna, but the words died in her throat. She shook her head and silently implored the old woman to stop.
“I do not know,” she finally whispered. “I do not know.”
Yuna snorted.
“It was that sister-in-law of yours, I’ll be bound. She is no good, Nolwenn. Do you hear me? No good at all. I know in my bones that she tampered with that potion. Didn’t she now?”
Nolwenn could no longer bear to listen to the old woman giving voice to the suspicions she herself refused to entertain. She grabbed her bucket and turned from Yuna, flinging defiant words over her shoulder.
“She did nothing of the kind, you wicked old woman. Leave me alone!”
Nolwenn decided to pay Melisande a visit to check on her and the unborn child. She was admitted into the hut and Melisande kissed her warmly on the cheek. They spent some time talking of the coming baby. The child was not due until November, but Melisande was already making small garments to be ready on the arrival. She showed Nolwenn the tiny clothes and they marveled at the miracle to come.
Without warning a shadow crossed Melisande’s face. She gave her sister-in-law a measuring look, and then surprised her with her next words.
“Nolwenn,” she said softly, “if anything should happen to me during the birth, please promise that you will look after my child.”
Nolwenn felt the air leave her lungs abruptly, and for a moment she could not breathe. What a strange thing to ask of her!
“Whatever do you mean, Melisande? You will be fine, women have babies all of the time! Do not even think such a thing!”
Melisande smiled at her, but was not deterred.
“There are occasions when things go wrong, Nolwenn. And I do not want my child to be left alone. Please promise me that you will take care of it. I wish it to be raised by one who will love it, and that someone is you.”
The look of entreaty in Melisande’s eyes was almost unbearable. Nolwenn realized that she was right: many women did die in childbirth, and she must assure her that her child would be loved and cared for.
“Alright, Melisande,” she whispered soothingly. “I shall take care of the child if anything goes wrong.”
Melisande sighed and closed her eyes briefly.
“Thank you, dear. It is a relief to know you will love my child if I am not there to give it a mother’s love. And, I have a gift for you.”
She stood up abruptly and moved to the back room of the hut. Nolwenn wondered what the gift might be, but did not have to wait very long to find out. Melisande returned to her chair and held out a pendant to her sister-in-law.
“Take this,” she said. “I have had it made especially for you.”
Nolwenn beheld a silver chain and from it dangled a small amulet of some dark clear stone, capped with a silver link that connected it to the chain. The stone itself was unadorned and hung freely from the chain.
“Oh, how lovely,” Nolwenn breathed.
She stretched her hand out to take it, but Melisande drew it back quickly and smiled.
“Allow me to explain first, Nolwenn. The amulet is very powerful. When you have need, just hold it in your hand and the stone will clear. When it does, it shall show you the future, and the answer to any question you put to it.
“See? Like this?”
Melisande put Nolwenn’s hand on the amulet. The girl cradled it in her grasp, and decided to ask it a question.
“Where is my brother, Cort?”
As she stared into it, the cloudy depths cleared and Nolwenn saw a picture forming. She saw a ship, and on the deck of the ship she saw her brother and his wife Siv. She gasped excitedly and showed the picture to Melisande.
Melisande also gasped but not with delight. Her lips tightened suddenly and she clutched the pendant so hard that she cried out in pain. When she opened her hand, Nolwenn saw the deep impression the stone had left in her palm. Melisande quickly recovered herself and smiled reassuringly at the young girl.
“Take it, Nolwenn. But let us keep it as our little secret, shall we? I am afraid that if Maelys knew of its existence it would only make her jealous at the favor I have show
n you. And you know what her temper can be like, don’t you? The last thing I would desire would be for her to harm you in any way, as she did the time she hurt your arm.”
Chapter V
Family Matters
Marcus persuaded Tullia with some difficulty to keep the news of their daughter’s marriage quiet until they could speak to Decimus and Paulina. The marriage was known only to himself and Felicia and Antonius, he explained, and he did not wish Lucius to know before the groom’s parents discovered it. She had protested, wishing to confront Felicia at once and take steps to dissolve the marriage completely.
“I can not bear it, Marcus,” she wailed. “Had Felicia planned it, she could not have found a more painful way to punish me for taking her from Solone before the promised year was up.”
Marcus reflected on this statement, and thought ruefully how true that was. Was this marriage a punishment to Tullia for breaking her promise to allow her daughter to be fully trained as a prophet of Dominio? Or would it prove to be an unexpected blessing, when taken into account how committed Antonius was to Alexandros and spreading His Kingdom?
He had yet to decide how to punish Lucius for the loss of Logos. How careless indeed the young man had been; taking the Sword from its hiding place to casually show it to his best friend, and treating it as a toy for their amusement! Would Lucius ever grow up and mature into the man that Dominio desired him to be? There were times when Marcus despaired of it, and wondered if life had been too easy for Lucius, too smoothly paved by the ease and comfort that was the lot of a rich man’s son.
What to do about his behavior concerned Marcus greatly, and he felt that as his father he should discipline him severely. Yet the solution eluded him. How did one chastise another for the loss of a sacred object? Lucius was no longer a small boy who could be sent to bed without any supper or forbidden to indulge in playtime with his friends.
And Tullia, who had been infuriated with her son over his actions, was now too distraught with the news of her daughter’s marriage to offer any insight or suggestions. When Marcus consulted Dominio in prayer, there was only silence. What did that mean? Was Marcus to show leniency to Lucius? Or was the fact that Logos was now in the hands of evil men punishment enough?
He noted the strain between mother and daughter when the family gathered for meals. Felicia was blissfully unaware of the pain her marriage inflicted on her mother, but Tullia seemed distraught, and the necessity of making conversation a burden she would just as soon have been free of. Her daughter was oblivious to her mother’s torment, but noticed the effort it took Tullia to address her with even the most commonplace pleasantry.
One day after the noon meal she took her father aside and asked to speak to him alone. They adjourned to the garden, where cooling breezes brought relief from the heat of the day. As they sauntered through the grounds Marcus noticed the birds singing their songs as easily as if they had not a care in the world. And he suddenly knew that he must trust the outcome of all that had happened to Dominio and His providence: his daughter’s marriage, his son losing Logos, the pain his wife suffered in silence. All was known to Dominio and He would work all things out for the good…
“Father,” Felicia began hesitantly, glancing at Marcus to gauge his response to what she was about to say, “what is wrong with Mother? I thought she would be angry with me for running away, but she has not said a word about it. Yet she seems troubled in her mind in some way, distressed about something. Do you know what it is?”
And Felicia cast a look of such anxiety on her father that his heart melted within him. How wrong Tullia was to think that her daughter wished to punish her for her broken promise! If only these two he loved so dearly could each understand the heart of the other.
“All will be well, Felicia,” he soothed as he patted her arm. “Your mother has been through an ordeal as a result of her travels, and I do not believe she has fully recovered from it. Give her some time and be patient.”
Felicia sighed and shook her head of black curls slightly. The forelock fell on her brow even as her father’s had in his youth, and for a moment Marcus forgot his own troubles and was amused at how like him this child was. And in some ways, she reminded him of his own father, Valerius, the fearless Commander of the Imperial Army. In spite of all that had happened in recent months, he was grateful yet again for the gift of his family.
Marcus put an arm around her shoulder, and she put her head on his in the trusting gesture she had demonstrated ever since she was a little girl. He kissed the top of her head and they continued their walk through the garden, now fragrant in the full bloom of summer, silently as only two souls who know each other utterly can communicate without the bother of exchanging a word.
A week later Marcus had an unexpected visitor.
Otho came to the library early in the morning after the family had broken their fast and announced to Marcus that Decimus Hadrianus awaited him in the atrium. Marcus, who thought him to still be in Valerium, was surprised both at the announcement of his presence and further still that Decimus wished to see him, as he knew that Decimus despised him every bit as much as Marcus loathed him. He reluctantly followed Otho to the atrium, where the butler then left them alone.
He did not know what he expected, but it was not the man who stood waiting for him. Decimus, he observed at once, looked uncomfortable and glanced at Marcus uncertainly, then looked away at the floor.
“Yes?” Marcus said, not willing to have any conversation with this man at all, and therefore felt no need to make it easier for his old foe.
Decimus opened his mouth to speak, and then clamped it shut, as though completely at a loss for words. Marcus waited: so absolute was the silence that he heard the sound of voices in the garden where his children were spending the fine morning.
Decimus made another attempt.
“Maximus,” he said briefly as he inclined his head.
He shot a look of inquiry at Marcus, who in spite of his animosity, was becoming intrigued by his enemy’s peculiar behavior.
“State your business, Decimus,” he said in a voice that was harsh and invited no friendly repartee.
Decimus cleared his throat and proceeded to plunge into the matter at hand without further preamble.
“My son has married your daughter,” he barked. “Are you aware of that?”
He now stared openly at Marcus, who exhaled slowly and sat down in the nearest chair. He signaled for Decimus to be seated, and the other man sat down abruptly, never taking his eyes off of Marcus.
“Yes, I do know,” Marcus stated. “When did you discover it?”
“Yesterday,” Decimus answered. “I returned home to collect my family and take them to Valerium. No doubt by now you have heard the news of the Emperor’s passing, and that I am to be the new Minister of State.”
And Decimus paused briefly to preen himself and gloat at his old rival. Marcus remembered how proud Decimus had always been, and how he had perpetually taunted him on his homeless state when the Empress Aurora had imprisoned his father and confiscated the estate. He waited now for Decimus to bait him.
To his surprise, Decimus did not do so. Marcus now gave him his full attention.
“And?” he said, indicating that Decimus should continue.
“And Antonius informed me that he could not accompany his mother and me to Valerium because he had just taken a wife and his home would be with her in Lycenium. Naturally I was astounded, but when he told me who he had married…”
Here Decimus broke off and shook his head as though bewildered at the strange turn of events. He did not pause long to meditate, but turned back to Marcus.
“How long have you known?” he asked abruptly.
“About a month,” Marcus replied. “Felicia first told me when I suspected something was afoot: they seemed to know each other too well when they were introduced in my presence. Felicia then confessed that they met and married at a time when Tullia and Lucius and I were absent. And Antonius conf
essed it to me when I took him with me to search for Tullia and Lucius. So secretive were they in their meetings that Felicia’s own grandmother was unaware that they had even met, let alone carried on a secret courtship.”
Decimus listened to Marcus with careful attention, and then broke in.
“Why did you say nothing to Paulina?” he inquired, in a tone of voice so unlike his usual belligerent one that Marcus could estimate the depth of his shock at the news.
“We thought you were still in Valerium and waited for you to return,” he answered. “We have kept Antonius and Felicia apart; they know we have waited to speak to you and Paulina. They also know that Tullia and I do not approve of the manner in which they courted and wed without the knowledge or blessing of their families.”
Decimus nodded his head, and then placed it between his hands before raising it to look once again at Marcus.
“What are we going to do about it?” he asked his old rival. “I spoke to Antonius, and he admitted that it is a solid marriage and can not be merely annulled. And if we attempt to dissolve it all will hear of it through the courts, and then your daughter’s reputation will be stained irrevocably by the announcement of the marriage and its dissolution once it is made known.”
Marcus gasped at the revelation.
“I had not thought of that!” he admitted. “Nor has her mother, I am sure. Our concern has been for the marriage itself and the secrecy of it; and the consequences of the revelation of it when it is made.”
Decimus did not have to ask Marcus to clarify that remark: he knew all too well the hatred that his foe still bore him. And the animosity of Tullia, who had never forgotten the way he treated her. There was no one Tullia would have wished her daughter to marry less than the son of her former abductor.
“Does Paulina know?” Marcus asked him, more for something to say than from a real desire to know.
