Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set)

by L. M. Roth

  “It was an angel no doubt, sent by Dominio to release us. And the sooner we leave for home the better I say, as there will be the devil to pay when the Emperor discovers we are missing.”

  Chapter XV

  The Departure of Cort

  They wasted no time in heading for Eirinia. Cort pointed out that the main roads and the ports of Valerium would be watched, so they should return home by way of back roads through the forests. They still had to face the problem of the guards posted at the wall on the border between Valerium and Eirinia, and a fast runner would no doubt be sent to alert them of Dag’s escape. So swift were the runners that they could easily gain a half day ahead of the travelers and the guards would be waiting to arrest him at the border.

  How to solve this dilemma seemed insurmountable. They all looked at one another blankly: there appeared no way to circumvent the guards.

  And suddenly a look of comprehension lit Brand’s face and he shared his idea with the others.

  “Father, there are so many ships and boats in the harbor. It is not yet dawn, but the fishing boats will already be preparing to put out to sea, but will not catch any fish in this rain. Would it be possible to rent a boat that would be willing to take us further down the coast and land us beyond the border so we may avoid the patrol? We could tell them that sudden illness has called us home and we wish to travel as quickly as possible, and the land journey would take far too long. Then we would land at a point at least five miles beyond the wall and continue our journey on foot from there.

  “I know from spending time down at the ports among the fishermen that they hate the Emperor, and if any did recognize you they would consider it a good joke on him to help you escape. What do you say, Father? Shall we try it?”

  Dag laughed at this last statement and cuffed his son on the shoulder as a proud smile wreathed his face. Cort joined in the laughter, and even Judoc, anxious though she was to get out of Valerium as quickly as possible, smiled fondly at her youngest son.

  “Let us try it!” Dag exclaimed.

  They walked as fast from the Palace courtyard as they could without giving the appearance of hurry, down to the pier, where just as Brand had said, the first fishermen were arriving. They looked a dispirited bunch; every day counted in their business and it was clear that the rain falling now would last most of the day and it meant lost sales as no one was willing to go out to the deeper waters to where the fish would take cover from the rough currents of the shore. The fishermen stood around talking idly, discussing each other’s plans, when Cort strolled up to them, with every appearance of being a customer looking for a business proposition.

  “Hello,” he called to them, nodding his head in friendly fashion. “I wonder if one of you could assist me: my family need to return home due to illness and the land journey would take too long. Is there a captain among you who would be willing to take us on and land us up the coast? It is not a long journey, but it would be of invaluable service to us. We would, of course, be willing to pay.”

  And he shot them a dazzling smile that radiated innocence; none of the fishermen would ever guess that the young man’s father had just escaped from enforced captivity and there would shortly be a hue and cry for him. The fishermen looked from Cort to one another: one shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head.

  “I could do it,” he said with an amiable smile. “Looks like nothing will be caught from the sea today so I may as well earn my supper another way. Bring your family and let us depart.”

  Cort nodded and assured him that he would return with his family. He hastened back to the others, and bade them hurry to embark. And then he looked at them all for the first time since they left the Palace: they had been released in the middle of the night as they lay sleeping, and none of them were in street clothes, just the looser garments they wore to bed, with just their cloaks to cover them. It was an amusing sight, but one which he knew could draw unwanted attention. However, there was nothing to be done about that now; they would have to purchase some clothes at the port where the fisherman would take them.

  He motioned for Dag to pull the hood of his cloak down around his face, and then realized that Judoc’s copper hair would also give her away. So down came the hood of her cloak around her face as well. He decided that the rest of them would not be so easily recognized, and he gathered them together to take them to the boat.

  The trip to the port beyond the border lasted a mere four hours, where the land journey would have taken two days, especially with ruts in the road and the mud from the rain to contend with. For the travelers, though, every moment lasted an eternity, worried that even now the alarm would be raised and an armed contingent sent to arrest Dag and take him back to the Palace, or even the dungeon for having the audacity to escape.

  But they arrived safely, and with many thanks to the fisherman and much relief, (and after purchasing some street clothes at the port to avoid incurring the curious stares of their fellow passengers) they transferred to another boat that would take them to Annick. The voyage would take roughly a week, and it was a bittersweet one for Cort and Dag, because as they stood on the deck one evening after all had dined and the others retired to bed, it was soon clear to Dag that he was about to lose this son.

  It had rained earlier, the fine misty rain that is characteristic of Eirinia, but the sky had cleared and the stars emerged from their hiding place. One by one as they popped out, Cort began to count them. As each twinkling light added its sparkle to the blackened sky where gray clouds slowly dissipated, Dag listened to the voice of his son in a game they had played when he was much younger.

  “How many did you count, Cort?” he asked as his voice choked suddenly.

  “I counted one for you, one for me, one for all the sailors lost at sea,” he said softly.

  It was a game they had invented between them; that the stars they saw on board ship represented the souls of the sailors who had gone to the deep, but returned to light the way for those voyaging on the deep blue sea. They knew it was fiction, of course, but it was a game that delighted them and gave a sense of significance to the men who traveled the ocean to bring back fish and spices and goods to those who remained safe in port.

  And then Cort gave Dag a look that was sad and tender, and suddenly, Dag knew.

  “You are leaving?” he asked, and then swallowed hard.

  His eyes filled with unexpected tears and he fought to stifle them, always disliking to show his feelings.

  Cort nodded his head slowly and smiled at Dag.

  “It is time, Father. I must go and find where Dominio wants to use me. I know it is not in Eirinia: that is for Dirk, who is one of them as well as your eldest son.”

  Dag protested, even as Cort knew he would.

  “Cort, you are my eldest son, and always will be.”

  Cort walked over to Dag slowly, and placed a hand on the great man’s shoulder.

  “Father, I truly appreciate all that you have done for me, and love you as a father, indeed, more than I did my own father. But I am not your son, and you have two others. Dirk is the one to take the mantle of leadership for Eirinia. I see it in him already; he has grown much and will soon be what you are. And as long as I am here, you will never see him as your eldest; yet he is.”

  Cort shrugged his shoulders, as tears filled his own eyes. Dag studied him for a very long time, so long that Cort began to think he would never respond. When he did at last, Cort knew that he was right to prepare to leave.

  “Perhaps you are right,” Dag murmured. “Dirk is one of them, being half Eirini; and you will always be special to me, the son of my homeland. You should have been my son, yet you are not. It may be possible that when you are here I am blinded to Dirk and all that he has yet to become.”

  Without warning a sob rose to Cort’s lips and his shoulders convulsed. Dag grabbed him and held him close as the young man cried quietly for several moments before regaining his composure. When he had finished weeping Dag slapped him on the
shoulder and released him.

  “Thank you, Father. Thank you for giving me a home when I had none, thank you for treating me as your own. I can never repay you or thank you enough.”

  “I have your love, Cort; that is payment enough. One day you will have a son and you will understand what that means.”

  When the ship arrived in Annick, Cort, Siv and Brit transferred to a small merchant vessel. Cort had once again asked Dominio to guide him to the right ship, in order for his path to be determined. And so they boarded the ship with no knowledge of where it was bound.

  Just before they boarded, they said their goodbyes to the Adalbarts. Brand fought back tears at the news that his brother would not be returning with them to Leith. Judoc had known before they left Eirinia that Cort would move on, but the leave-taking was none the less painful for her in spite of expecting it. She clung to Cort and kissed his blond curls before releasing him and planting a maternal kiss on each cheek. She then pulled Siv into her arms and embraced her warmly before turning to Brit, whose eyes swam with unshed tears at the thought of leaving her friend. Judoc was at last overcome with the emotion she had tried so hard to restrain and she sobbed on Brit’s shoulder.

  At the last moment, Brit looked from Cort and Siv to Judoc, and made a decision of her own.

  “Cort!” she said suddenly, a note of urgency ringing in her voice. “Will you be keeping the hut in Eirinia?”

  Cort looked at his mother blankly. Then he shrugged his shoulders and glanced at his wife, who looked as blank as he did.

  “I had not thought about it,” he confessed. “Why do you ask, Mother?”

  Brit’s gaze shifted from Cort to Judoc and back again.

  “I just thought that if you were keeping your hut and land in Leith, that I might stay there while you and Siv travel. I could keep house for you, or for Dirk if he decides to take it in your absence. It would give you and Siv time alone, which you have not had the whole time you’ve been married, and I could spend time with Judoc. Who knows what the situation will be in Leith, and she may need another woman to stand with her.”

  If Cort needed to seek an answer, he saw it in the expression on Judoc’s face: it lit with relief and hope. And he realized that she was lonely, not just from grieving over Brenus, but with the sense of alienation that rose from the situation with the village ladies. He turned to his wife for confirmation, and Siv slowly nodded her head.

  “Well, Mother, I suppose I could keep the hut and land until Dirk is ready to take it over. He is young yet, but in a year or two he will need a home. If you wish to remain in Leith and look after it for me I would appreciate it very much.”

  Judoc let out a whoop just as Brit turned to her, and they clutched hands like a pair of young girls who can hardly wait to confide each other’s secrets and share jokes that no one else could understand.

  And as Cort observed through tear-filled eyes the mutual affection between the two women that he called Mother, he was satisfied and his heart found peace at last.

  Chapter XVI

  A Colony Revisited

  It was with astonishment that Cort recognized the unusual mountains that were visible just off the bow of the ship. They were not tall and sloped gently down to the water. Not a tree or a flower grew on their smooth surface. He knew that in the winter the snow slipped off them and fell into the water below.

  He clutched the arm of Siv who stood next to him and pointed excitedly to the mountains.

  “It is Grete’s Land, we are entering Grete’s Land!” he exclaimed, and actually jumped up and down in his joy as he used to when a small boy.

  His wife laughed in amusement but shared in his joy, recalling the tales of the land that he had shared with her, and how it had been colonized for Dominio on his journey of many years ago.

  Their ship pulled into the cove that Cort remembered so well; but what a difference between entering it in April from entering it in January! On his previous journey the cold had been bitter and the wind eerie as it howled all though the night, alarming his friend Kyrene and Elena, the former slave girl who traveled with them.

  Now the gulls circled overhead, and the cove was dotted with small white wildflowers that clustered along the shore, lending a bright cheerful presence to the harsh dark gray stone of the mountains, so dark a gray that it was almost black. The clear water reflected the mountains, mirroring them until it seemed that there was nothing but the mountains in this land. Fluffy white clouds hung low overhead, and it seemed that with the exception of some sparse grass that grew further back from the shore that the primary colors of this land were gray and white.

  Cort was surprised that a ship would call at Grete’s Land, remembering only too well their policy of isolation that had almost resulted in the death of himself and his companions. Why would a ship be calling at Grete’s Land? What had happened to change their fiercely guarded privacy?

  Cort and Siv disembarked briefly, with the admonition from the Captain to return within two hours when they would weigh anchor and go to their next port of call. To satisfy his curiosity, Cort asked the Captain what cargo they were taking on here.

  “A special water that is found only in this land,” was the Captain’s reply.

  Cort nodded his head sagely, but did not comment. He knew what that water was, and was astonished that it was permitted out of this country. He puzzled over it, and decided that since they were staying for a couple of hours that he would attempt to find some of the inhabitants from his previous journey and discover whether he could solve the riddle.

  He took Siv’s hand and led her through the thick pine forest where he and his friends had been taken captive, and where squirrels now scampered busily in the mild spring weather. They came to the grove of pines that was so hushed and private that it seemed like a cathedral of trees. Siv breathed in the pungent aroma and smiled in bliss; how it reminded her of Trekur Lende, she told Cort!

  When they came to the valley where the springs and the skrells reigned supreme she caught her breath in awe and marveled at the sight of so much water, all of it pristine with the clarity of purity. The valley was now green in the first flush of spring, and relieved of the burden of ice and snow that Cort knew from his previous visit. Down through the valley they trekked, stopping here and there to exclaim over the sound of running water over rocks in the stream, or to savor the sight of a skrell shooting a spray of hot water into the sky, with an occasional spray landing on them.

  At last they came to the great hall that the people of Grete’s Land called home. Cort strode up to the door and knocked; a wooden slot was pulled back and a pair of eyes peered through it to investigate the stranger. The door opened cautiously and the head of a young man appeared in the opening.

  “Who are you; state your business!” he ordered.

  “I am Cort Adalbart and this is my wife, Siv,” Cort answered. “I visited this land many years ago and wish to know whether Gunnar, son of Gunvor, still dwells here among you.”

  At the mention of Gunnar’s name the young man’s whole countenance, which had been rife with suspicion, changed at once to a welcoming grin. He opened the door wide and bowed to Cort and Siv.

  “Come in, come in!” he said. “I will have them send for Gunnar at once.”

  As they waited for Gunnar, Cort looked around the great hall. The interior as well as the exterior, was still the light blondish wood that he remembered from before. But the paintings of water that had adorned the halls and the statue of Jytte had been removed. The walls were plain and bare, and only a fountain decorated the hall.

  He turned abruptly at the sound of a still familiar voice.

  “Cort!”

  Cort whirled around and beheld Gunnar, bounding toward him with the wide grin and sparkling eyes that had always seemed a permanent fixture on his face. The two men held out their hands and grasped them tightly. A warm feeling of pleasure flooded Cort, and it comforted him, having secretly grieved at the parting with Dag. What a joy to meet with
an old friend, one who had also been a friend of his adopted father’s.

  He hastily introduced his wife, and Gunnar bowed to her before leading them into a small room off the hall, where he bade them sit and rest. They spent several moments exchanging news and Gunnar asked after Dag.

  “Does he still hunt? And does he still love honey?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

  Cort laughed out loud, remembering the joke Gunnar had played on Dag that had nearly resulted in the death of some of the natives. Gunnar joined in his laughter and they guffawed until they wiped tears from their eyes.

  “No, he only hunts occasionally, but yes, he still loves honey!” Cort replied and attempted to sober himself before submitting to another fit of laughter.

  “Oh, but that felt good!” Gunnar said. “It is so good to see an old friend, is it not?”

  “Yes, it is,” Cort agreed. “But we can not stay long for our ship will depart soon. And that raises a question, Gunnar: tell me, when did the policy of isolation change for Grete’s Land? For I recall that you never permitted anyone to enter or leave this land. Why did you change that?”

  And Cort waited for his old friend to answer. Gunnar, however, exhaled slowly and a frown clouded his brow. It was evident to Cort that the new policy perhaps did not please his old friend.

  “It is true that we have changed our policy, whether for good or ill I leave to you to decide. As you know, our people forsook the worship of Jytte and turned to Dominio, and we realized that we now had no reason to forbid any from entering or leaving our land, as it was no longer sacred to Jytte. It was even suggested that we should share our special water, the healing spring as Felix called it, with those who had no access to such a gift. We felt it might be wrong to keep it only for ourselves, and so we began to sell it and permit ships to call in our harbor where we sold it in exchange for other goods.