by L. M. Roth
“Mother, I can not keep on here,” he said soberly one evening as they sat before the fire together in his hut.
His brothers and sisters were in the family hut, where they had invited Kyrene and Lucius for an evening of games and telling of tales to while away the winter evening. It was a favorite pastime of the Adalbart family, and they gathered to hear stories of the Eirini and Trekur Lender peoples, that they might better understand their heritage handed down from their parents. Such evenings usually included singing old folk songs as well, and Judoc’s lilting voice was a feature of those times, accompanied by Dirk on the pipes and Maelys on a stringed instrument called a gavreen.
Tonight they would have to do without the sweet voice of Judoc, who was meeting with her eldest son.
“I must leave very soon, that I may set about the task that Dominio would have me do,” Cort said, turning his gaze from the dismay in Judoc’s eyes.
“Oh no, your place is here,” she protested. “I can not imagine you leaving again. I understand it was necessary for a while, due to your friction with Melisande, but you can not allow that to take you from your family, Cort.”
Cort drew his chair closer to hers and took her hands in his.
“Mother, it is not because of Melisande that I must leave. I do not belong here anymore. My travels only confirmed it to me. How good it was to take off into the unknown, and visit places I have never seen before. It is time for a change for me, and Siv agrees. We must go.”
Judoc’s keen blue eyes filled with tears and she clutched at Cort’s hands still entwined in hers.
“But what of your father, Cort? He needs you, especially now. You can not leave him to be a prisoner of the Emperor, comfortable though his cage may be.”
“No, I can not,” Cort agreed. “Therefore I will delay leaving until he is released; in fact, I shall go to Valerium with you to escort you safely. But after he is free of Valerium I shall journey on.
“Before I do that I wish to tell you how grateful I am for all of the love and support you gave me over the years. You truly have been as a mother to me, and I can not thank you enough for all that you did for me.”
Here he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, and Judoc broke down and wept. She kissed his hand and her falling tears bathed it in a warm shower of love that moved him deeply. He would not, however, let it dissuade him from his decision.
“Mother, do not weep. It is time for me to go. I was never really your child, or Dag’s child. Although you have been as parents to me, I must find my own home now. If I do not leave, Dirk will never become to Dag what he should be, because I will always be in the way, always called the eldest son. When in truth, I am not truly his son at all.”
His words fell heavy on the air and there was a long silence. The flames from the fire cast flickering shadows on the wall and touched Judoc’s face. Her eyes became thoughtful although the sadness remained.
“It was always you two boys,” she said softly with a note of wistfulness in her voice, “you and Brenus. You were our eldest, mine and his, the ones we brought to the marriage. And it was always the two of you who got the attention, because you had each claimed our hearts. Yes, I see that Brenus was a piece of my former life with Denzel, and you were a reminder of Trekur Lende to Dag. I suppose it was hard for Dirk to find a place, wasn’t it?”
Then her face puckered without warning, and she put her hands across it, weeping freely the tears she had attempted to stifle.
“Oh, how I miss Brenus! I miss his laughter, his temper, and his recklessness. Will this pain in my heart ever go away?” she wailed as she rocked back and forth in her grief.
Cort was prepared and produced something from a pocket of his robe.
“I may be able to help you with that, Mother. On our travels we stopped briefly at a land called Darian. I can not begin to tell you of the effect it had on me; I felt called there somehow, and know that I must return one day.
“We shopped at the stalls along the shore and purchased some healing oils. There is one that the natives called haleo berry which they told us will cure anything. I tested it by applying a drop to a cut on my finger, and it was instantly healed! I would like to give you a drop of that oil now, Mother, that your grief over Brenus will at last be healed, and you will only remember the good times, and be free of sorrow.”
Judoc did not appear convinced and looked at the bottle of oil doubtfully. She took it from Cort to examine and turned it around in her hand as if to learn its secrets. She winced at him, but nodded her head.
“Very well,” she said in a faltering voice, “let us try it.”
Cort filled the stopper with a drop of oil and released the drop over Judoc’s tongue. She looked at him blankly for several minutes, until a light came into her eyes and her lips lifted in a smile not used in many months.
“I feel, I feel…better!”
She struggled for words to express her emotions, and Cort listened in amazement.
“My heart felt like a stone within me, so dead and heavy. Indeed, it has been all I could do to get out of bed in the mornings, wishing instead I could stay there and not have to face anyone. But now, after one drop of that oil, my heart feels light, no longer weighing me down. And I feel free, as free as the hummingbird that flits about as it works!”
Cort laughed in joy and she returned it. He laughed again and her laughter echoed his.
Then he sobered suddenly.
“But it does not change my mind, Mother. After we help Dag escape Valerium, I must be on my way.”
Chapter VII
A Difficult Choice
Kyrene was in a quandary. Judoc and Cort were leaving for Eirinia to rescue Dag, and she did not feel that Dirk or Maelys were strong enough yet to confront the villagers or the evil that seemed to have pervaded the surrounding countryside. Something wicked was brewing; she could sense it as when towering thunderclouds formed on the horizon, announcing the coming of a ferocious storm that brought lightning, wind, and torrential rain and devastated the landscape after its passing. Was Melisande the force behind the coming storm?
Kyrene simply did not feel released to leave Eirinia. Even when she prayed and consulted Dominio, she felt she must stay on to weather the impending storm with the Adalbart family who remained in Leith. Yet what of her pupils back in Solone? She could not simply abandon them. And Lucius stayed in Eirinia because she did, waiting to escort her to Solone when she decided to return.
It was Lucius who solved her dilemma.
“Why not send a message when Cort and Judoc leave for Valerium? When they arrive in Potentus they can give it to a captain whose ship will call at Solone and take it to your mother. She can inform your pupils that they are on holiday for a while. And during that holiday they should spend a great deal of time in prayer and meditation rather than going to class.”
Kyrene pondered on the answer. It was a sensible solution, yet she fretted at the time lost with her students. They were all making progress in their prophetic gift and she did not feel right in taking time away from them. Yet Dominio must be obeyed, and she did not feel that He was releasing her from Eirinia for the present.
It was with reluctance that she took his suggestion and sent a message with Cort and Judoc, resigned to her prolonged stay in Eirinia.
It was only gradually that Kyrene noticed the attraction Lucius felt to Maelys, an attraction it was clear that the young woman did not return. Why this was so she could not say, for Lucius was as handsome as his father had been at his age, and Kyrene recalled the effect his appearance had produced on young maidens during their travels. Whether she was too caught up in the drama her family presently endured, or she just did not care for Lucius it was impossible to tell. But Lucius gave himself away in countless ways, and Kyrene was both amused and concerned at the situation in which the spoiled young man now found himself.
Maelys did not see that the eyes of Lucius followed her around a room the way a shadow follows the one it belongs to, b
ut Kyrene saw it. Maelys did not hear the note of eagerness in Lucius’ voice when he responded to her smallest request, whether it was to hand her a cooking pot that she was not tall enough to reach or to walk with her for safety after twilight when she wished for fresh air, but Kyrene heard it. Maelys did not feel the yearning in the brief touch of his hand when Lucius held it during prayer, but Kyrene felt it.
And then she wondered: was her enforced stay in Eirinia perhaps due to this unrequited love that the son of one old friend felt for the daughter of another? Was it to give Lucius time to woo his beloved that she must remain indefinitely? Or was it to give him time to realize he had false hopes that would never be fulfilled?
Lucius himself did not philosophize over the matter. He was simply glad for every moment that gave him access to the company of Maelys. He did not care if he never returned to Lycenium, unless she went with him. So thorough was his infatuation for the Eirini maiden that he, city lover that he had always been, was actually willing to help her brother with the spring plowing.
It was now March, and here in Eirinia where the winters were milder than in Lycenium, the ground was ready for the plow. With his father and brothers in Valerium, Dirk encountered the dilemma of doing everything on his own, a daunting task for one so young to face. Lucius, to the amusement of his young host, offered his services in any way that was needed.
After a hearty laugh inadvertently escaped his lips, Dirk clamped them shut and expressed his gratitude to his guest.
He would be delighted, he said, for any help that Lucius could give him. Privately he doubted that Lucius would be of any help, but the offer was kindly met. Perhaps he could have him walk behind him and plant seed if nothing else. Even that little bit would be somewhat beneficial.
To his surprise, Lucius insisted on attempting to drive the plow, walking before the oxen that pulled it to ensure that they drew a straight line in the ground. It was not a task that Lucius could honestly say that he enjoyed, but in his heart he felt the secret entertainment that his deficiencies gave his host, and he would not let it be said of him that he was ineffectual. Lucius had met Dag on several occasions, and Dirk was so like him in face and form that Lucius felt both intimidated by his presence, yet determined not to be bested by a young man his own age. And thus it was that he pulled the plow with the oxen.
He was unaware of the glances that Maelys bestowed on him as he struggled with the oxen. The object of his affections was as amused as her brother, but her amusement quickly changed to astonishment when he rapidly advanced in skill. He also worked quietly without complaining, and remembering how her brother Brenus had complained endlessly about plowing to the extent that Dag put him to work hunting for meat for the family meals instead, she grew to admire Lucius for his attempts to be of use and service.
Her first impression of him in Lycenium had been that of a rather vain young man who knows he is handsome and enjoys the effect his looks produce on the women around him. Surely he had many young maidens vying for his attention and led them on for his own amusement! Therefore she felt no attraction to him, as it required more than mere good looks to excite her interest.
And yet, during his stay in Eirinia he had shown a genuine concern for her and her family that won her friendship. It was only lately, as she observed his actions during the plowing, as she saw how patiently he worked and how eager he was to be of service that Maelys slowly awakened to the appeal of this young man. She found herself stealing glimpses of him when he was unaware, that she might memorize him and sigh over him when she was alone.
And in the instant of awakening, she just as quickly attempted to lull it back to sleep. After all, she thought with a sigh as she looked at her rustic clothes, what would an aristocrat of Lycenium and Valerium possibly see in a country maiden from Eirinia?
Chapter VIII
The Letters
Marcus stared at the letters on his desk and tried to decide which one brought him the most aggravation, the one from his son or the one from his daughter. For neither of them brought him anything but a sense of worse tidings to come.
It was now April and the last of the snows had melted, bringing the robins back to their roosts and the first buds of new leaves sprouting on the tree branches. The daffodils had reared their stately heads and the lilies diffused their sweet scent through the mild air. The days were noticeably longer, with twilight lingering softly, bringing joy to those who basked in its radiance, as it lightened their hearts of winter’s heavy load.
But for Marcus it might as well still be winter with its prolonged cold and darkened days. Neither the news from Eirinia nor the tidings from Valerium lightened his heart: instead he felt a dull heavy weight settle on him such as he had not felt since the days of his captivity in his youth.
Lucius, whom he had not heard from in several months, had decided to remain in Eirinia indefinitely, where he could be of some assistance with the spring plowing and planting. Marcus snorted like a disdainful horse who would laugh if it had been given the power of speech at the inexperienced rider who dared to mount it. That his playboy son, who had never done a day’s work in his life, nor ever demonstrated any interest in doing so, should expect him to fall for such an excuse aroused his anger as well as his amusement. No doubt his susceptible son had met an Eirini maiden who had captivated him with her merry laughter and sprightly manner.
Marcus recalled how enchanting the maidens of that country could be: petite and slim, with light voices that lilted melodiously, and a temperament that alternately teased or taunted their intended matrimonial victims. No doubt Lucius had lost his heart to some bewitching young lady who had cast her spell on him and was even now inducing him to settle in Eirinia to the life of a farmer.
He meditated on this notion for a moment and thought it would be best not to tell Tullia.
Lucius went on to inform him that Kyrene felt she needed to stay in Eirinia for a while until “the atmosphere of evil alleviated.” Lucius said that Kyrene told him that Marcus would understand what she meant, which was a relief, because he himself had not a clue what she meant by such a statement.
This last remark caught Marcus’ attention and held it. It was true that he did understand Kyrene’s statement and cause for concern. He remembered all too well the presence of wickedness that pervaded that land prior to the coming of the Alexandrians, and the account of Brenus’ death that he had heard from Dag. Well, if Kyrene felt there was good cause to linger in Eirinia, then Lucius could hardly be blamed for staying with her as he had only traveled with her to offer his protection on the journey and would not return until she was ready to leave.
He turned with a sigh to the other letter from his daughter.
Felicia was restrained in her tone, and that fact alone gave him a feeling of alarm. Never at any time in her life had she refrained from making her feelings known about anything. Yet now she spoke in guarded tones as if afraid that someone was listening and might peer over her shoulder at the words she had written to her father…
Valerium was in the hands of the Emperor, she wrote. It was evident that he ruled. The people of Potentus walked quietly. His old friend Dag had been installed as a miracle man of some kind, following the incredible occurrence of having been used by Dominio to raise Iacomus from the dead when he had suddenly fallen dead to the ground. But of course her father would remember the dream she had nearly two years ago. And now Iacomus was an Alexandrian, so zealous that he wished all of Valerium to worship Dominio, and any who did not would be tried as a heretic. This had already been put into effect, and she had witnessed the burning of more than four hundred people who had insisted on celebrating Regat as usual. But her father would know all about that, having been born and raised in Valerium.
She closed the letter with her good wishes for his health and that of her mother. If he had a reply for this letter, she wished him to send it to the address of her father-in-law, where she could be certain of receiving it without interruption of service; he would u
nderstand how letters could sometimes go astray.
Marcus read the letter through twice and divined its meaning, one that caused his body to go cold with the horror of the reality now sweeping Valerium. What Felicia could not openly put into words but wished her father to know was that the Valeriun Empire had fallen into the ruthless control of Iacomus, who grasped it in unbending hands of iron, and that the people walked softly for fear of rousing his wrath. Dag was no doubt being detained against his will, a fact so obvious that Felicia knew she need not elaborate on it.
And the true meaning of the prophecy she had been given in the dream was now revealed: Iacomus had literally been raised from the dead, and so the warning was clear. Marcus recalled the mention of flames burning that blocked out the sun and saw the mention of the four hundred heretics burning as the reference to the flames. And Marcus would understand the reference to Regat the god of war, and that it was now the Alexandrians who faced spiritual warfare as this madman forced others to bow to Dominio or die. Even the injunction to send his reply in care of her father-in-law’s address was a warning that if sent elsewhere it could end up in other hands and never reach her. But no one would dare to tamper with a message sent in care of the Minister of State.
And for the life of him, Marcus could not decide which letter from which child grieved him the most.
Chapter IX
The Night Creatures
Although the robins sang sweetly in the trees and the crocuses cast a mantle of bright pastel glory in gardens still denuded of green vines, Nolwenn did not notice. Her heart was filled with rage that blotted all else from her notice. Why, oh why, hadn’t Maelys gone to Valerium with their mother and Brand?
It was bad enough that Dirk remained behind to monitor her like a jailer confining a prisoner left in his charge. But to have her older sister remain merely to order her around and spy on her movements was unbearable! She knew that was the only reason that Maelys stayed in Leith; she would have loved to go to the city and see the sights!
