by L. M. Roth
He opened the message and read the words addressed to him:
“My name is Dag Adalbart. I am a friend of Marcus Maximus. I traveled with him and your son Felix many years ago, and met you when we stayed at your home on our return to Valerium after trekking on a quest for the Empress Aurora.
“Please forward the enclosed message to Marcus at this address in Valerium. I would be grateful if you would do so, and would gladly return the favor to you in the future if given a chance.
“With sincere thanks, Dag Adalbart.”
Justus read the message through and scenes from the past flickered through his mind. He saw his son, Felix, his witty, intelligent, mischievous boy, exchanging verbal spars, commenting thoughtfully on some new idea, plotting a trick with the delight of an irrepressible school boy. And as he remembered, he wept.
Too long had it been since he had seen his beloved son, too long since he heard him burst into song, too long since he had seen a scowl on his face lighten to a smile in one of his swiftly changing moods. Justus still missed him, although more than twenty years had passed since his life had been so abruptly snatched from him, and he knew he would go on missing him until the day his own body went to join that of his son. As the tears fell down his cheeks, he reflected on the changes of the past months.
It had been a shock to the people of Valerium when Emperor Urbanus had died suddenly in his sleep. Never had he been known for any but robust health, and already suspicion ran rife in the capital city of Potentus. Especially in view of his successor, Iacomus Cornelius, a man with a questionable past, who had come so quickly to lord his presence over the Valerian people.
Justus was not surprised when the edict was announced that continued to banish the Alexandrians from Valerium. For Iacomus was clearly a man who lusted for power above all else, and he would not share his power with any, not even a God Who ruled from the heavens. He would have absolute dominion over the Empire, and any who challenged him would pay for it.
Justus turned again to the message he had just read. He remembered Dag now: a tall and powerful man who was silent of speech and gentle of manner. He recalled that Silvia liked him very much, and that Dag and Felix bantered back and forth a lot with a teasing affection for one another. Well, any man who was a friend of his son…
He rang the small bronze bell on the table beside him to summon his butler. He did not have long to wait, as the slaves in his household were efficient and quick to obey a summons. Justus prided himself on the manner in which his wife ran her household, instilling respect as well as affection from those who served her.
Now he handed the inner message in its protective covering to the man who stood before him.
“Take this and give it to the swiftest messenger we have. It must go at once. I trust you to see that this is carried out immediately.”
His butler took the message from his hand and bowed before leaving the room.
That evening he and his wife Silvia lingered in the room that their family had always liked the best. The evenings were turning cool and already they lit a fire in the braziers to warm them from the chill that came with twilight. The light of the flickering flames cast a warm glow on the tiles and mosaics beneath their feet. It was a cozy atmosphere and Justus put an arm around his wife and drew her close in companionable silence.
They sat in complete harmony of spirit and together watched the reflection of the flames on the tiles of the floor. Silvia sighed and snuggled closer to Justus; the fire also set her rich brown eyes sparkling with the same vitality that had characterized their son, and he realized anew the depth of his love for her. He found himself grateful that he still had her, and caught her hand and kissed it briefly.
“I heard some news today,” Silvia remarked. “Some news I found unbelievable, yet my source is infallible.”
She waited for Justus to respond before continuing. In truth, she was not sure she wanted to tell him the tidings she had received. He cocked an eyebrow as a sign for her to continue.
“You will not believe it, Justus. Indeed, I could not! Do you remember Felicia Maximus, the daughter of Marcus and Tullia?”
She paused, her heart suddenly beating faster. She took a gulp of air, feeling somewhat dizzy, as dizzy as she had grown that afternoon when the news was related to her.
“Yes, of course, I remember her. She is a delightful child, although so different from both of her parents, as I recall.”
“Well, we can no longer call her a child,” Felicia said in a vain attempt at a laugh. “You shall never guess Justus. She is married!”
“What!” the word exploded from Justus. “But that is incredible! She did not want to marry: she wanted to travel to Solone and have some teaching of some kind is my recollection. The last news I had of her she had done exactly that.”
“Yes, well, she did,” Silvia admitted. “But then she returned to Lycenium and when she did she met her husband. I heard that they married secretly, before their parents even knew they had met.”
She could not go on; tears sprang to her eyes with no warning. She still could not believe what she was about to tell her husband. And she knew the pain it would bring him.
Justus looked at his wife with growing curiosity. Why did she not just tell him who Felicia had married? What was so mysterious about two young people joining in wedlock?
“It is someone I never expected her to marry,” Silvia continued at last. “Indeed, I believe her parents never expected it either. But I heard it directly from Renata, our former Empress. She came to call on me today, and she asked whether I had heard the news. She herself had been stunned when she was told.”
Silvia swallowed hard, and wiped the tears that threatened to seep from her eyelids. A small moaning sound escaped her lips, which she promptly clamped together tightly. At last she raised her head and with the dignity of a matron of Valerium proceeded to share her news with her husband.
“Little Felicia has married Antonius, the son of Decimus Hadrianus.”
Before he could compose himself Justus felt the air go out of his lungs in one gasp, and he stared helplessly at Silvia.
“Do you mean…” he could not finish what he was about to say.
“Yes,” Silvia answered. “She has married the son of the man who,…who killed our boy.”
Chapter XV
Where Three Roads Meet
Nolwenn tried with increasing difficulty to hide the anger she felt threatening to consume her. It was just like Maelys to take off and leave her with all of the duties that she detested so!
Even now as she helped Judoc in the kitchen, leaning over the spits where the boar was placed to stoke the fire and the heat made the sweat pour from her brow, she could barely contain her ire. Why was she the one left behind? Cort had left and might never return, and Father had left to see with his own eyes how matters stood in Valerium, and now Maelys used their absence as a pretext to go off and have an adventure to alleviate her boredom.
Nolwenn knew that Maelys was weary of Eirinia. She yearned to see the great world, to explore new lands, and partake of the culture of fine cities. It would be just like her to use her concern for her father and brother as an excuse to satisfy her own desires.
Nolwenn herself loved Eirinia and had no desire to ever leave it. She loved every inch of this land, from the mist that rolled in from the sea, to the green hills that glowed like fine jewels, and the woods that seemed to whisper secrets to those unwary enough to be caught in their domain after the sun had gone down. She did not mind the rumors of creatures that walked by night, those who wished to recapture the realm they had ruled so long ago. She was part of this land, and feared nothing in it.
Nolwenn kept her feelings regarding such matters to herself. She knew that her father and mother would be distressed should they ever hear of it. They served Dominio and Him alone, and she knew that the incident at Spring Festival had upset them greatly. And the fact that she had stood with Melisande, Brenus and the villagers distressed them
even more.
When the time came for Summer Festival, she would have stood with them again had not Maelys dragged her back to her mother’s side. How dare she treat her as a child! She would soon be fifteen, nearly old enough to receive suitors. She felt herself old enough to decide for herself where she would stand in any village dispute.
All the villagers wanted was to acknowledge their ancient lineage and identity, the one they had always been so proud of in the days before her own father had come and forbade the worship of their gods. All they wanted was the right to worship in their own way and not be forced to bow down to one God only.
What was so terrible about that?
She took out the amulet that her sister-in-law had given her. How pretty it was! And what a comfort to have a sister-in-law like Melisande. If only she had been her real sister! Then she would not be frowned on every time she took her side in a dispute; for she knew that her mother would never take the side of an outsider over one of her own children.
Now, however, she focused her attention on the smoky crystal of the pendant Melisande had presented to her. Would it show her something today if she asked it a question? It did not always work, she noticed, a fact she would never admit to Melisande, so careful was she of hurting her feelings that were so sensitive and tender. Poor Melisande, she thought, to have no family to call her own, and then to lose her new husband so unexpectedly.
Nolwenn eagerly looked forward to the birth of Melisande’s child. It would be in two month’s time, the first week of November. What a cheerful way to spend the winter months, looking after the child and nestling with it before a warm fire on a cold night. For she intended to help her sister-in-law as much as possible, whether the rest of the family approved or not.
She glanced at the pendant in her hand. The crystal had cleared, and she knew it would now answer whatever she asked of it. If it remained cloudy, it remained silent. She did not understand why this was so, but it was.
She held it in her hands and rolled it gently between her palms. Then she posed a question to it.
“Where is Maelys?”
She gazed into the crystal and waited for a picture to appear.
Slowly, a form manifested in the pendant. Nolwenn saw a cloaked figure with a hood drawn close about its head. She saw a ship, and the rise and fall of waves. Gulls flew overhead, and a rocky coastline took shape in the background.
The picture dissolved as quickly as it had formed and the crystal was blank and cloudy once more.
“Oh!” Nolwenn fumed. “That does not tell me anything! I know she is at sea, but I want to know where she is heading.”
She asked the crystal again, but this time it lay in her hand and did not change.
Two evenings later one of the village children ran through the green, screaming and crying so loudly that everyone came out of their huts to discover the cause.
It was Erwan, the ten year old son of the village blacksmith, known for his high spirits and the little black dog who was his constant companion. There was no one he would rather spend time with than his little Cuno. Nolwenn noticed that for the first time that she could remember the little dog was not with him and wondered what had happened.
Erwan continued to wail loudly even when his mother rushed to him and demanded to know what ailed him so? His sobs now becoming hiccups, Laig strode over to him and slapped him hard on the back. So stunned was Erwan that his hiccups stopped at once. He gave one last snivel that convulsed his body before he turned to face his mother.
“I was walking with Cuno in the woods. I just wanted to see if the leaves were turning yet; for I do love to see them change to red and gold! We walked through the trees, farther than we have ever walked, and came to a path. I have never been to that part of the forest before; it was a strange path. There were three roads that met there. And I saw that I was standing on the part where they met.”
His voice dropped abruptly to a whisper. Nolwenn was suddenly aware of the tension in the faces around her. Laig stiffened and stared intently at the boy, hardly breathing, while his wife Niamh appeared almost to be excited as her birdlike black eyes brightened as she waited for Erwan to continue his tale.
“Go on,” she urged. “What happened?”
Erwan’s eyes grew wide and they never blinked as he continued.
“I heard something; something in the grass. I looked all around me, but I saw no one, no one at all! It was coming, coming closer…”
He shut his eyes and shuddered, then wiped a hand across his forehead. His breathing became heavy as he continued, until the only sound to be heard was the rasp of his breath.
“And I swear I saw the grass…move, but there was no one there! And I remembered what my mother used to tell me about the goddesses, and how they travel together. And that if you come to a path where three roads meet they demand a sacrifice. But I had none to give, and the footsteps were coming closer, closer…”
Erwan shuddered again and would have stopped there, but one look at the faces around him warned him that he had better continue and at once.
“They were coming for me. I was the sacrifice! But I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to die! And then I heard Cuno whimpering and knew he heard them too. And I heard Cuno whimpering, and I knew what I had to do, must do.
“I looked around me all the while hearing the footsteps coming closer. I found a big rock and I pulled Cuno to me. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to do it; I had to! I picked up the rock and I brought it down on Cuno’s head as hard and fast as I could. I put him on the path where the three roads met, and the footsteps stopped. They just stopped.
“I listened, but I could hear nothing, nothing at all. Even the birds had stopped singing. And I knew my sacrifice had been accepted, and I was safe.”
There was a deep silence after Erwan finished his tale. Laig looked inquiringly at Niamh, who nodded her head. The rest of the villagers took their cue from her, and nodded their heads as well. Then they all returned to their huts without saying a word.
Nolwenn pondered on this strange incident. But she realized the villagers were right. Erwan sacrificed his dog to the goddesses to save his own life.
After all, what else could he have done?
Chapter XVI
The Emperor
There was no trace left of the warm and hospitable atmosphere that had characterized the Imperial Palace when Urbanus had been Emperor. A chill permeated the environs of the Palace, even in the heat of summer. Had beads of moisture dripped from the ceiling and mold clung to the walls he would not have been surprised.
Justus Lucius had requested an audience with Emperor Iacomus most reluctantly. He had no genuine government business to transact with him, but circumstances had forced him to intercede for the friend of Marcus Maximus, now held prisoner in the Palace dungeon. He recalled the words his wife Silvia had spoken to him before he left their villa.
“Remember, you must not let it slip that this Dag is an Alexandrian,” she urged him. “Only last week an old man was tortured and imprisoned because he refused to bow in reverence to the Emperor. Can you believe it? The man was sixty-two years old, and they broke his knees so that he may never bow to anyone again! And the Emperor decided to let him rot in prison rather than put him to death. He said death would be too easy a sentence, that it was better to let him suffer for his disobedience…”
Justus had been appalled at the recital of such gross injustice. All the man was guilty of was common sense, as far as Justus was concerned. After all, why should he bow to one who was not divine? Whether the man pledged allegiance to a deity was beside the point: Iacomus was not a god and no amount of delusional belief on his part would ever make him one.
Now as he crossed the rose-red and black marble tiles of the Palace, he recalled the days when Emperor Urbanus reigned. Good years they had been, full of mercy and benevolence, as the Emperor had pledged himself to improve the lives of those he governed when he advanced to the throne upon the death of the ruth
less Aurora.
And so he had: new roads were built that expedited travel, making it easier to journey through the vast environs of the Empire. The poor were relieved of some of the heavy taxes that had been introduced when Empress Aurora sat on the throne. And a medical institution had been founded, with the desire for the availability of more doctors to heal the sick. The increase of these medical miracle men was invaluable to the Army, where those who had been wounded in service to the Empire were treated by the doctors who now could travel with the military and be on call as needed.
But what good could come out of the new regime, where a cruel and arrogant man now held absolute sway? Justus knew the answer only too well: only evil could arise out of the reign of Iacomus Cornelius, the snake who had slithered his way into the good graces of the childless Emperor who had been so sadly deceived by the viper’s charm as to make him his heir.
The golden diadem studded with rubies that had once seemed to Marcus Maximus too heavy for the fragile beauty of the Empress Aurora now crowned the head of Iacomus. It was all wrong for him, Justus decided. The color was too warm for the cold ruler. It should have been silver with black onyx: silver to symbolize his icy heart, and black for the deaths that Justus sensed would result from his reign.
Iacomus sat on the throne as cocksure as if he truly belonged on it. To Justus and so many in the Empire, he would never be more than a pretender, and one who had manipulated his way to power at that!
Iacomus idly draped his robes about him and flicked a hand at Justus with the detachment of one who no interest in the company that has been forced upon him.
“Well, Lucius? To what do I owe the pleasure of this audience? State your business, for I have many matters that require my attention.”
Justus forced himself to speak in polite and civil tones to the man he despised so greatly.
“It is just this, Your Grace: it has been brought to my attention that you have in the Imperial dungeon a man who is known to me. He is an old acquaintance of my family, although I have not seen him for many years. He was entering Valerium and was arrested by the Guards at the border. He is no threat to the Empire, merely an innocent traveler who was passing through. I request his immediate release if it so please Your Grace.”
