by L. M. Roth
They did not have long to wait. It was no more than fifteen minutes after the arrival of Felicia and Kyrene that the others appeared. Otho had been instructed to send them to the atrium, where the sun still warmed the room, alleviating the chill of the autumn day, and the Maximus women along with their friend made haste to join them.
What struck Tullia immediately was the beauty of the young girl who stood somewhat shyly before her. Tall and willowy, yet somehow suggesting the stateliness of a goddess who had condescended to visit the earth below, was the impression she had. The girl carried her head high with dignity, yet there was also an unabashed expression of awe at her surroundings that battled with her attempt to appear poised and at ease.
Tullia found herself wondering if this was the maiden’s first glimpse of a grand house; and she reflected that living in the wilds of Eirinia in a small village had not prepared her for marble columns and intricately tiled floors, with statuary and fine pottery, or the exquisite mosaics that adorned the walls. So accustomed was she to these sights that she had ceased to see them, and now as she looked around the room through the eyes of the young Eirini, she found herself appreciating anew these beautiful and costly possessions. She extended a gracious hand and a welcoming smile to her young guest.
“Good afternoon, Maelys,” she said, as genuine pleasure animated her voice and face, “what a pleasure this is! I have met your father on a few occasions, and it is a delight to meet one of his children at last.”
Maelys shed a grateful smile on her and gave a little bow to Tullia as she took her extended hand. She seemed as much in awe of Tullia as she did the grandeur of the atrium. She glanced shyly at the other two women, whom Tullia brought forth to introduce.
“This is our daughter Felicia, who is just your age,” she said as she put an arm around her daughter. “I am sure you two will have much to talk about. Felicia was actually interested in joining your father in Eirinia to help with the work there.”
Maelys’ eyes lit up with curiosity and pleasure, but before she could speak Tullia introduced Kyrene.
“And this is Kyrene Nicandros, who is also a friend of your mother and father. Indeed, she traveled with your father and my husband many years ago on an adventure, where she was of invaluable service to them.”
Tullia turned to Kyrene and a soft glow illumined her eyes.
“And she is like a sister to me,” she stated in a tone of voice as soft as her eyes.
Kyrene returned the look warmly and gratefully; then they both turned their attention back to their young visitor.
Maelys now seemed overwhelmed at all of the attention, as well as the struggle to adjust to her surroundings. She obviously was searching for something to say, but words failed her. It was Felicia who finally put her at ease by taking her by the arm and putting an end to all of the formalities.
“Come,” she said to the other girl, “let us take a stroll outdoors and get acquainted. After all, we are the same age and I want so much to hear of the work in Eirinia which I nearly joined. Had I done so I would have met you already, and therefore we should regard one another as old friends.”
She said this with a withering look at Tullia that sent a frown racing across her mother’s countenance. Kyrene restrained from sighing as she reflected that Felicia had managed to interject a note of irony on an otherwise conventional call between fine ladies and one young rustic from the provinces.
Maelys soon felt perfectly at ease with Felicia. There was an almost immediate sense of a kinship of spirit with the other girl that caused all differences of social station to disappear. They talked impersonally at first of the differences between Eirinia and Lycenium; Maelys exclaimed over the splendor of the city and its magnificent villas. Never had she seen anything to compare to them!
But when queried by Felicia, she found herself rhapsodizing over the mystical beauty of Eirinia, how the sea mist came upon one unexpectedly in the morning as it kissed the dew of dawn until they were one, and enveloped the land in an aura of mystery. She told of the loveliness of the woods and meadows, so green and vibrant with the glow of a jewel that had somehow settled on the land and cast its brilliance around for all to enjoy.
Felicia listened to her visitor with genuine pleasure, and then told Maelys of her adventure in Solone, and how she had reveled in the rocky countryside so dramatic from the cultured landscapes of her homeland. She recalled again the salty invigoration of the sea air, the plaintive cry of the gulls, and even the longing she found reverberating in her own heart at the sound of their voices. And she spoke of her longing to be fully trained as a prophet, and to use the gift Dominio had given her to advance His Kingdom.
She paused in her narration for only a moment, hesitant to reveal her rebellion to a complete stranger. Yet there was something about the other girl that produced a feeling of empathy, a sense of a bond being formed, that released her from her usual polite conversation, and permitted her to share what was in her heart.
“I wish I could have finished my training in Solone,” she said wistfully. “But my mother was adamant that I return to Lycenium to endure a season of social festivities. And I hated the very thought of it. So, I ran away.”
A little squeal of delight escaped Maelys before she could stifle it. Seeing that Felicia did not appear offended or surprised, however, she ventured to elaborate on her response.
“No! You really did? Just ran away and traveled on your own?” Maelys asked with her blue eyes widened in a thrill of glee at the audacity of the fine young lady who dared to resist her fate.
Felicia responded to Maelys’ obvious enjoyment with a laugh of her own as she remembered with delight her act of rebellion.
“Yes, I did! And I intended to come to Eirinia, and would have were it not for an encounter with another old friend of our fathers’, this one a man named Bimo. He told me I was wrong to run away and rebel as I had, and that Dominio would not bless me in my endeavor. So I did what every good little girl would do and returned home. And I was astonished at what waited for me here.”
Felicia paused for a moment and her eyes became dreamy with reverie. How surprised indeed had she been to meet Antonius on her arrival, and how Dominio blessed her for her obedience!
But Maelys was eager to hear the rest of the adventure and prompted her to continue.
“Well, I was no sooner home than I met the young man I married,” Felicia said as she blushed suddenly. “And he is exactly what I need and he wants to serve Dominio also, and is just the sort of young man to please my mother as well. So everything turned out just as it should have after all.”
Her recital of her own adventure reminded her that Maelys herself had left home unchaperoned and curiosity overcame her.
“And what of you, Maelys? What is it that prompted you to travel alone and unprotected? Surely it must have been some matter of grave importance for a maiden to take such a chance.”
A shine of tears unexpectedly glistened in the blue eyes of the other girl, and it was a moment before Maelys could speak. When she did, a quaver throbbed in her throaty voice, so low in pitch yet pleasant to listen to.
“It is just this,” she began. “My father left home three months ago to travel to Valerium, and my brother to journey to other lands for a while. And we have not heard from either of them since.”
Chapter XXI
Revelation of A Sudden Horror
Cort was aghast at this revelation from Gaelle. Surely this was more terrible even than he had imagined! He had suspected that Melisande came to Eirinia with evil purpose in mind, but the depths of wickedness she had expressed to her grandmother surpassed even that which Cort thought her capable of.
He pounced on a statement that Gaelle had made earlier.
“You say that Emperor Urbanus called on you last spring? When was that exactly, may I ask?”
He uttered his questions with as nonchalant an air as he could assume, but he had never been skilled at prevaricating and did not know whether she s
aw through the pretense or not.
But Gaelle pondered his question in all seriousness, wrinkling her brow in concentration. She frowned a moment to recollect and then turned questioningly to her husband.
“Was it in May, Pascal? I seem to recall it was May because the jasmine was just flowering, and that was always Urbanus’ favorite scent. He said he missed jasmine in Valerium, where roses seemed the norm in every garden that he saw.”
Pascal nodded his head emphatically and crossed his arms over his chest as if for emphasis.
“Yes, it was,” he agreed. “We had strawberries with the dinner that night, and those are one of the Emperor’s favorite fruits. Yes, it was May.”
May, Cort thought. And it was four months later that Melisande turned up in Eirinia and met Brenus. The voyage would only have taken about three weeks if the weather was fine: when had she left Gaudereaux, he wondered.
He decided to find out; something gnawed at him that would not find rest until he learned all of the truth about his sister-in-law.
“Do you recall exactly when it was that Melisande left with no word of her destination?” he asked her grandparents.
If she was curious about her young visitor’s inquisitiveness Gaelle did not betray it.
“Oh, yes, it was in early August,” she said. “We had just had a memorial for her father two days before she left; that is why I can remember the date so well.”
“A memorial service?” Cort asked curiously. “What is that? Do you not have ordinary burial customs in Gaudereaux?”
Gaelle laughed at his bewilderment. A twinkle of good humor enlivened her eyes as she smiled fondly at the young man.
“In Gaudereaux we have the usual burial customs, with a quick interment and a time of mourning for the family. But about six months after the death of the departed we gather together for a time to celebrate the life that was just lost. It is a way for us to heal from our grief. As we look back and remember and share incidents that were amusing, inspiring, or moving, we can lay our grief to its final rest and simply rejoice in having known the loved one that we lost.”
“Ah!” Cort exclaimed. “And you say Melisande left for Eirinia right after the memorial service!”
“Yes,” Gaelle said faintly as she nodded her head slowly. “She did. She waited to pay her last respects to her father before she left.”
Gaelle was still for the next few moments as if recalling the incidents of those months. Cort waited for her to go on, but did not break into her musing of past events. The room was so still that he could hear the faint buzzing of a bee outside the open window as it hovered over a vine of honeysuckle. A gentle breeze stirred and sent the bouquet wafting through the sitting room. Beside him Siv took an appreciative sniff and sighed; and then all was quiet once more.
At last Gaelle spoke, her eyes suddenly wide and full of hidden fears, fears that Cort could see she was afraid to voice aloud.
“And then she left for Eirinia right after that. She must have planned it; there was some purpose she had in mind. But what that purpose was, I do not know.”
Cort could fairly guess what Melisande’s purpose was, but he decided it would be wise to keep his opinion to himself. Where that wisdom came from he did not know; a year ago he would have blurted it out immediately regardless of what consequences followed.
It must be the influence of Siv, he thought. She considered every word and its possible consequences before she spoke it, as a prudent woman should. And once more he realized what a blessing she was to him…
He felt that they had intruded on Pascal and Gaelle long enough and rose to his feet to take leave of them. He and Siv left the couple with promises to return for another visit before they left Gaudereaux.
As they walked back to the inn Cort mused aloud regarding the news they had just received. Something Gaelle had said had disturbed him, but he could not recall what it was, or why it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Help me, Siv,” he said to his wife. “I am deeply concerned at what Gaelle told us about Melisande. But there is something more as well, something that I can not remember from her account. For instance; it takes no more than three weeks to cross from Eirinia to Gaudereaux if the weather is fair, yet Melisande should have arrived in Eirinia at least a month before she met Brenus, whom she told she had only just arrived. Where was she during that month? And what was her purpose in coming to Eirinia?”
Siv, who had borne patiently with this recital, had already recalled the detail that eluded her husband; and divined his sister-in-law’s purpose in visiting Eirinia.
“It is this, Cort: Gaelle said that Melisande hated Dag and would have her revenge on him. And she vowed that he would lose his children just as he had taken her mother from her; and that she would turn their hearts away from the God he loved more than her mother, for Whom he abandoned her.”
Cort stared at her, his face slowly draining of all color as he listened to her. Because now as he listened to his wife he remembered the body of his brother, he who had so foolishly married Melisande, lying near the mound. And he saw the face of his younger sister; Nolwenn, who was utterly fascinated by Melisande, and took her side in every dispute.
And as the full revelation of his sister-in-law’s wicked plan unfolded to him, a horror unimaginable suddenly assaulted him, taking his breath away and stifling the air in his lungs. As black dots danced in front of his eyes and his wife’s face became a blur, he realized in that same instant that he had fallen for Melisande’s ruse, and done exactly what she had intended him to do.
Chapter XXII
The Prisoner
He sat on the rough wooden bench waiting for something to happen. He had been imprisoned for three months now, and waiting was becoming more difficult. He thought of his wife and children back in Eirinia: did they know of his imprisonment? Had the message he entrusted to Justus Lucius reached Marcus, and had he traveled to Valerium to come to Dag’s aid? Had Marcus sent word to his family, or did they wonder what had become of him, and why he did not come home?
He wondered also how his daughter-in-law fared, and whether she and Maelys quarreled. Melisande’s child was due to be born at any time now, and he pondered if a new baby might soften his daughter’s antagonism toward Melisande, and whether it might bring healing to the family as a whole. A small reminder of Brenus was what Judoc had said. But would it bring happiness or heartache, serving only to remind everyone that Brenus was truly gone, and all that remained of him was the child and the widow that no one had welcomed into the family from the first?
Dag had plenty of time to think on the past. The Emperor Iacomus had largely ignored him since sending him back to the dungeon. He was permitted no visitors, and therefore had no one to talk to. Odelius had not been able to serve him in several weeks, and could only come when one of his regular guards was indisposed.
He was given enough to eat, although the food was without imagination, consisting of bread, vegetables simply prepared, and plain meat that was merely boiled, baked, or fried. This did not matter to Dag: he had always had simple tastes and ate whatever was put before him without question. Even on his travels of long ago or his rare visits to Marcus Maximus in Valerium, he had always chosen the plainest dishes of whatever fare that was offered to him.
If anything was cause for discomfort or fretting it was the confinement of his dungeon. He was jailed in a space that was only about fifteen feet long by about twenty feet wide, permitting him little room for walking. He had always been taller than other men, with a long stride that seemed to swallow whatever room he found himself in, and had always engaged in hard physical labor as well. Now he felt cramped by the lack of space, and felt an overwhelming desire to stretch his arms and legs, to run and to jump.
As this was impossible he forced himself to be contented with merely walking around the room several times a day for at least twenty minutes at a time, and lifting the wooden bench over his head for fifty repetitions. This activity kept his m
uscles hard and his body fit. Although he was nearly fifty he appeared younger due to his excellent physical condition.
He frequently thought of his wife. Judoc’s sweetly feminine face rose to his mind often, and he shed silent tears at his yearning for her. What a loyal and loving woman she was, as well as an energetic and high-spirited one who always made even the simplest of pleasures a joy to be savored. She had made his life complete, when he had thought he was doomed to be alone, having been disappointed in love twice before from those whose hearts were false. And then Dominio had brought her into his life and his own heart was so full of happiness that it seemed like a dream from which he would surely wake up. But he never did, and he blessed the woman who had given him her heart and entrusted it to him.
Dag spent many hours in prayer, having little else to do. He prayed for his wife and children, for his friend Marcus who had been exiled from Valerium, and for all of the believers who had been exiled with him. He entreated Dominio to protect those who called on His Name, and asked to be released from his prison so he could return to those he loved. Although these prayers were still unanswered, he felt a calming peace fill his heart, and he knew that he had to trust Dominio for whatever the outcome of his imprisonment would be.
He had fallen asleep and into uneasy dreams, but was now awakened by the turning of a key in the door of his cell, and the creaking of the door as it was opened. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and forced himself to focus on the guard who stood before him with his legs akimbo and hands on his hips. A mocking sneer curled his lips as he studied Dag; the arrogance that exuded from him might have infuriated another man, but Dag had learned patience through many trials in his life, and he said nothing.
