by L. M. Roth
But in this assumption he was wrong.
“It is a miracle!” Iacomus exclaimed. “I have received a miracle!”
He riveted his attention on Cort.
“Tell me again what you said earlier.”
A decree came from the Imperial Palace the next day. His Royal Grace, Emperor Iacomus, declared that from this day on all of the Valeriun Empire would worship the God Dominio, and His Son Alexandros. Any who did not do so would be tried as a heretic and put to death.
In the royal throne room Decimus Hadrianus watched as the Emperor cradled the Sword Logos on his knee. The Emperor no longer wished to have it merely to withhold it from the Alexandrians. No, it was now far more precious than that to him.
For Logos must be obeyed, Iacomus said. He learned that much in the days when he had infiltrated the meetings of the Alexandrians. It was a two-edged sword, and to disobey would bring about the destruction of the one who received a word and did not heed it. So should it be throughout the Empire, Iacomus pronounced.
And on hearing these words, even Decimus Hadrianus, godless man that he was, knew that for the Valeriun Empire, its darkest hour had just begun.
Quest For the Kingdom
Part VII
A New Kingdom Rises
By L. M. Roth
Copyright 2013 © L. M. Roth
All Rights Reserved
Preface
Kyrene was left behind to stand guard in Leith. She deemed that both Dirk and Maelys were far too young to stand up to the evil that now simmered beneath the surface in general, and she did not like the feeling of an unnamed threat that seemed to stalk the Adalbart family in particular.
And that was when she started training Dirk, Maelys, and Lucius how to be spiritual warriors. She omitted Nolwenn, sensing a duplicity as well as rebellion in the young girl. As loyalty was an inviolable requirement in any military troop, she could not afford to permit the flighty girl access to any of their confidential information.
She took them deep into the woods behind the village, even to the places where the Eirini were warned not to go. At first, Maelys had been nervous, and glanced around her as if expecting to see some unspeakable horror pop out at her. But Kyrene merely laughed off her fear.
“You must be strong and courageous,” she told the young woman. “For greater is He that is in you, than he who is in the world. Remember that: you have received of the Spirit of Dominio, and there is no power that can stand against Him. But you must be pure of heart, or you will not be able to stand before your foe. I do not say that he will defeat you; he may, or he may not. But your own heart will quake in fear and you shall run and not stand your ground.
“And never forget that it is the Astra who are behind their enmity with you, as they inspire them to hate you, wrong you, and cheat you at every turn. But Dominio has already judged the Astra, and they are diminished in their power.
“The Tuadan, as your people call them, are nothing more than the Astra whom Dominio banished to earth. Even in your own legends their power is diminished as they dwell in the hills that men trod underfoot, and in the trees that men chop down. It is true that you can not fight them in your own strength, but it is the Spirit in you that will give you the victory if battle is engaged.
“Remember to examine yourself; be sure you are in right relationship with Dominio Himself. Love your enemies and do good to those who hate you. Do not return evil for evil. Be kind and forgive, praying for those who war against you, for remember it is not flesh and blood that is your true enemy. They are only inspired to hate you by the Astra, who are your true enemy.
“And let me share with you what my mentor taught my friends and me: you will never defeat the kingdom of darkness unless you conquer the chambers of your own heart.”
Table of Contents
Chapter I
A New Kingdom Arises
Chapter II
A Surprise In Lycenium
Chapter III
A Menace Brooding
Chapter IV
A Reprimand and A Revelation
Chapter V
An Evil Day
Chapter VI
Time To Forget
Chapter VII
A Difficult Choice
Chapter VIII
The Letters
Chapter IX
The Night Creatures
Chapter X
The Edict of Iacomus
Chapter XI
The Miracle Man
Chapter XII
Into the Caves
Chapter XIII
A New Beginning
Chapter XIV
A Miraculous Escape
Chapter XV
The Departure of Cort
Chapter XVI
A Colony Revisited
Chapter XVII
Training Young Warriors
Chapter XVIII
The Amulet
Chapter XIX
A Small Joy
Chapter XX
The Curse of the Wise Woman
Chapter XXI
Nolwenn Awakes
Chapter XXII
The Emperor’s Conclusion
Chapter XXIII
Cort Arrives In Darian
Chapter XXIV
The Prophecy
Chapter XXV
Haunted Dreams
Chapter XXVI
Shadows
Chapter XXVII
A Family Reunion
Chapter XXVIII
Summer Festival
Chapter XXIX
A Choice
Chapter XXX
No Easy Road
Chapter XXXI
In the Eyes of the Law
Chapter XXXII
Marcus Returns To Valerium
Chapter XXXIII
Dag’s Family
Chapter XXXIV
The Emperor and the Word
Chapter XXXV
Logos Lives On
Chapter I
A New Kingdom Arises
It was time for the Festival of Regat in the city of Potentus, capital of the mighty Valeriun Empire. But for the first time in more than seven hundred years the celebration of feasting held in honor of the Valeriun god of war was not to be observed. Since the dawn of the Empire when Valerianus the first Emperor of Valerium had made sacrifice to the god who had given him the victory that enabled him to seize the throne from the weakling Egnatius, who ruled over a mere kingdom, this feast had been kept from the middle of December through the first week of January every year. All Valerians were required to keep it or pay a tax for penalty. Travel was forbidden as solemn rites were enacted, giving obeisance to the god, and triumphal marches preceded by the blowing of trumpets took place in the city square of Potentus.
Today the city square was alight with the burning of the heretics, those who defied the edict of Emperor Iacomus and kept the Festival of Regat.
Dag Adalbart looked on at the brutal slaughter of more than four hundred citizens of the city of Potentus with horror. He recalled too late the prophecy that Marcus Maximus had quoted to him from a dream his daughter Felicia had:
“Beware of the one who rises from the dead, he will bring destruction in the days ahead. The smoke of flames burning shall block out the sun. One kingdom shall rise as another is done.”
Dag remembered that Marcus was certain the prophecy pertained to Iacomus Cornelius, a man who was thought to be dead in his own city of Lycenium. But now he realized too late that it pertained to this man now known as Emperor Iacomus, whom Dag had raised from the dead through the power of Dominio. If only he had known what would happen if the Emperor were resurrected he would never have prayed for it! But at the time when the Emperor lay dead at his feet, laughing at the words of Cort, he thought it would prove the truth of Cort’s words regarding Dominio if He were to raise him from the dead.
He recalled that Felicia had seen buildings fall in her dream; he puzzled over this, and with a flash of inspiration he realized the buildings
were a symbol of the foundation of the Empire. And the festival of Regat, the celebration in honor of the god of war who was credited with giving the first Emperor, Valerianus, victory over his foe, was officially outlawed. The very structure on which the Valeriun Empire was built had crumbled, and a new kingdom was rising in its midst. But not Dominio’s Kingdom of Heaven: no, the Emperor was taking the name of Dominio in vain and implementing a terrifying abuse of power that would bring death to untold thousands, all in the name of God.
Dag shook his head and tears poured unheeded down his face as he observed the burnings from his window high up in the Imperial Palace. For the Emperor had refused to release Dag after the miracle, stating that he needed the great man near him lest he need another miracle. Dag had protested, and pleaded for his release so he could return to his family.
Iacomus had merely laughed at the entreaties of the royal prisoner.
“But we have need of you, far more than your family does!” he had exclaimed. “They shall have to do without you; for we are going to give you a fine ring for your hand, and luxurious rooms of your own in the Palace, and all that you desire shall be yours, my miracle man.
“No, you shall not be released. I forbid it.”
Here the Emperor paused for a moment as if to reconsider his own words, and bowed his head in contemplation.
“However,” he said as his eyes lit up with what seemed a solution, “you may send your son home, that he may tell your family where you are. Send for them if you like. We should not like it said that we caused anyone to suffer in our service.”
And with a flick of his imperial hand, the Emperor Iacomus decided the fate of Dag Adalbart.
Cort had obeyed Dag’s wishes, departing for Eirinia with all speed to inform the family of his imprisonment. For was it not further imprisonment that had been meted out to him? Always to be at the beck and call of the Emperor, never allowing freedom to come and go as Dag wished? Yes, it was continued imprisonment in Cort’s eyes, and nothing less than that.
Cort set out once more for Eirinia with his wife Siv and his mother Brit. In truth, he had thought he was done with Eirinia forever, and that once he learned the fate of Dag and ascertained his safety that he would be released to go where Dominio sent him. Yet now he must return to that home which was not his home, and his journey to his own destination must wait until the family was settled, whether in Valerium at the Emperor’s invitation, or to remain in Eirinia and pray for a miracle for Dag’s release.
Cort pondered on the matter and spoke to Dag before departing.
“What is your wish, Father?” he asked Dag.
Dag did not hesitate to answer for even one moment.
“Tell them to remain in Eirinia,” he ordered. “Tell them that I do not wish those I love to come to this place of madness; for it will soon be such a place under the rule of this wicked man.”
“But, Father, can you honestly make such a claim? For did not the Emperor himself say that he would make the worship of Dominio and His son Alexandros official throughout the Empire? That shall bring an end to the persecution of Alexandrians, don’t you see?”
Dag shook his head and let out a deep sigh.
“No, my son,” he answered in a deep voice that was heavy with weariness. “For the Emperor has gone much too far; he would make all worship Dominio and Alexandros, on pain of death if they do not. And that is not the way of Dominio, who gave free will to all men.”
“But, Father, Dominio is the true God! If men do not worship Him they shall not be able to enter His home in Heaven after they pass on: Xenon told us so many years ago in Solone. In some way the Emperor is right, because all who would deny Dominio shall suffer pain of death, and never be resurrected.”
Dag gave Cort a hard look that turned his dark eyes to a deep and glittering black. He shook his head slowly from side to side, as if grieved at the obtuseness of his adopted son.
“Cort,” he thundered with a sense of urgency in his voice, “you can not force anyone to worship Dominio or Alexandros. He gives men a choice, and they shall pay the price according to the choice they make; if they refuse Him they may not enter Heaven because they refused Him and can not enter His home. But for the Emperor to force men to obey is to play God himself. And that can not be done by the will of Dominio.”
Cort suddenly gasped as he at last grasped the import of Dag’s words. He turned pale and he became so dizzy that his father’s face was a blur in front of his eyes.
“I see, now I see,” he whispered faintly as horror overtook him.
And he saw indeed that it was not for the Valeriun Empire, but for the Alexandrians, that the days of terror had begun.
Chapter II
A Surprise In Lycenium
Marcus paced the floor of his spacious villa in Lycenium, or rather, he thought with more than a touch of irony, his mother-in-law’s villa. How he longed to be back home in Valerium in his own home, the Villa Maximus!
December had arrived; in Potentus the first snow would be about to fall and the grounds of his estate would be clothed in a dazzling robe of white, shimmering under the moonlight as its beams shed a glitter on the pristine purity. He recalled walking the grounds with Tullia after nightfall, their arms linked as they breathed in the crisp air and collected handfuls of the snow to marvel at its texture, looking so like sugar that seemed spun for no other purpose than to delight children with its beauty that lasted only a season, but dazzled in the time it banished summer and reigned supreme.
He jerked his thoughts back from memories of happiness to the matter at hand. A message had come more than three weeks ago from his daughter Felicia, who announced that he would receive a visitor in Lycenium shortly, and that he should go to the pier to wait for new arrivals. She had given no further details, neither the name of the guest nor the ship that guest had set sail on, which both intrigued and annoyed her father. He saw no reason for the mystery, and wished impatiently that she would have been plainer of speech in her message. But then, Felicia seemed to have developed a habit of late of complicating life in general for her parents: why should sending a simple message to her father be any different?
Marcus had gone daily to the pier for the last three days, expecting that his mysterious guest should arrive at any time if the weather had been favorable. Of course, bad weather could delay a ship for a week or two if it had been unfortunate to encounter it. He did not see anyone that he knew, and indeed, did not even know whom to expect.
Another matter to discuss with that young lady the next time I see her, Marcus thought.
He found himself wondering when that next time might be. She and her husband Antonius had gone to Valerium nearly two months ago to attempt to intercede for the Alexandrians there with Emperor Iacomus. Felicia suggested that as her father-in-law was the Minister of State perhaps the Emperor might listen to his son.
Marcus simply could not believe that this argument would carry any weight with the Emperor, who was as ruthless in his climb to power as any man he had ever seen. And his deeds after attaining power had been no less brutal. The reports that came out of Potentus of imprisonments, executions, and banishment had been consistent. It was far worse than the persecutions the Alexandrians had suffered under Emperor Urbanus, who had banished it from Valerium, yet did not make any proclamation prohibiting it in the provinces.
How long would that last under the rule of Iacomus, Marcus wondered. Urbanus had outlawed the sect because the Alexandrians pledged their allegiance to a higher power than the Emperor, an act of treason in his eyes. But Iacomus had gone so far as to proclaim himself on a divine mission, and that his subjects must bow in reverence to him and no one else. The act of doing so would be considered treason and punishable at the pleasure of the Emperor.
And not for the first time since Marcus had heard this proclamation did he ask himself the question: how did one reason with a man who thought he was God?
He went to the pier, half expecting to be disappointed yet again. B
ut to his astonishment he was greeted by the sound of a voice he had not heard since he left Valerium. It was Justus, the father of his old friend Felix, and who was such a loyal friend to Marcus and his family. With him was his wife Silvia.
“Justus!” he exclaimed, forgetting the customary stoicism of Valerian men and rushing to embrace the older man.
Justus returned the embrace, as if similarly overcome by the emotion of the moment to relax his usual dignified reserve. He held Marcus close for a moment before releasing him gently. His dark eyes were filled with a warming light that spoke of the affection he had for the younger man. He was gently but firmly nudged aside by Silvia, who clamored for her turn in embracing Marcus.
Then Justus appeared overcome by a sense of urgency.
“Quickly, Marcus; we must hie to your villa at once. I can not explain now, there are too many listening ears. I shall tell you all when we are safe behind your four walls.”
Marcus nodded; he trusted the prudence of Justus far too well to waste time asking for an explanation now. He gathered up the parcels they had lain on the pier, and then noticed for the first time the man who stood discreetly behind them.
“Odelius?” he asked with a wrinkling of his brow. “What brings you to Lycenium?”
Odelius gave him a smile completely unlike his usual smirk. This fact alone roused the curiosity of Marcus, who had verbally sparred with the older man for years. Why was he not at the Palace in his usual capacity of Guard? And why was he traveling with the Lucius family?
“Later, Marcus, later,” Justus said, firmly taking one of Marcus’ elbows and steering him to the Maximus carriage.
Marcus nodded his head, and soon had his guests ensconced in the carriage, where he urged his coachman Cyriacus to make haste for home.
Marcus had great difficulty believing the account that his old friend recounted to him. Odelius had come to him with a message from Dag Adalbart, which he voluntarily brought? Justus had been imprisoned for protecting Dag? And he had been released and sent to Lycenium secretly at the hand of his old foe Decimus Hadrianus; the man who had killed Justus’ own son Felix?
