by L. M. Roth
“Are you certain that you had to wait very long?” he asked her, as he chewed his bottom lip in consternation.
“Yes, I had to wait at least ten minutes, and usually I am answered the moment I ring the bell!” she exclaimed with a renewal of her grievances as she listened to them being aired.
“Well, was there anything urgent about having your bedcovers turned down for you? Could you not have done that yourself?” Decimus asked her with a touch of impatience.
Decimus was known justifiably as a proud man himself, yet there were times when her sense of entitlement at the extent of the service she expected from slaves who worked from dawn to dark tried his soul. He knew that had it been his mother, or his young daughter-in-law, the bell would not have been rung and the bedcovers turned down by their own hands.
“Well, I expect them to do that for me! What is the use of having slaves if they do not do what is required: I always have them turn down my bedcovers at night, why not in the afternoon if I choose to sleep a while?”
And Paulina pouted and crossed her arms over her chest in an attitude of vexation.
“You can hardly expect them to be ready to jump at the first ring of your bell when you have only just returned,” Decimus attempted to explain to her. “And if you are not accustomed to sleeping during the day they would not be expecting your summons and therefore not necessarily near at hand.”
Paulina sighed and flung herself down on her couch. She slipped a cushion behind her head and lolled there, the very picture of indolence. For some reason it irritated Decimus; perhaps because he had spent time recently with his energetic daughter-in-law who spent her days industriously, whether it be caring for little Valerius, seeing to the needs of the poor in the district, or taking time to “seek Dominio” as she phrased it, which seemed to consist of spending time alone in hours of prayer. While he did not necessarily understand the latter, he admired the fact that Felicia was never idle, and spent her time in ways that frequently benefitted those around her.
As if divining his thoughts, Paulina mentioned their recent visit to Lycenium.
“Wasn’t it wonderful to spend time with the children? And little Valerius; how I miss him already! Oh, how I wish Antonius and Felicia would spend more time in Valerium. And I miss Tullia when we are parted; what a dear friend she has become over the years!”
Decimus stiffened at this last statement, but did not make reference to it. He contented himself with addressing her remarks about the children.
“Yes, it is pleasant to spend time with Antonius and Felicia,” he agreed as a rare smile lit his countenance. “And Valerius will be a great man, just as his grandfather was!”
“You mean as both of his grandfathers,” Paulina corrected him. “Not only was your father a Governor, but his namesake was the Commander of the Imperial Army. And little Valerius will be just like both of them.”
The look he turned on her was not pleasant, but he bit back the bitter words that would have escaped his lips, had she known his full history with Marcus Maximus. As she did not, he merely turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, leaving her to wonder what she had said that so clearly upset him.
Iacomus met with him the following morning. Decimus felt his tongue grow furry in his mouth, and his hands were clammy with perspiration during his time waiting in the ante-chamber. Although he would not admit it to Paulina, her treatment by her attendants did not bode well; something was wrong, but Decimus did not know what it was…
The Emperor was slyly watching Decimus from the corner of his eye while drumming a finger on the arm of his throne, a habit that never failed to irritate Decimus with the mindless noise of it, a fact that Iacomus knew very well. It was suddenly brought home to Decimus that the Emperor wished to irritate him, and he wondered why. His stomach muscles tightened and his mouth went dry; he swallowed hard and forced saliva up into his mouth to moisten it. He wiped his face clean of all expression and turned a blank face to the Emperor.
Iacomus at last spoke.
“There was something you wished to see us about yesterday?” he asked coolly as he cocked one eyebrow and the corners of his lip curled up but not in a smile…
It did not bode well that Iacomus today used the plural pronoun to represent himself when alone with Decimus, something he had not done previously.
“Yes, I did,” Decimus drawled with an attempt at a casual air. “I just arrived back from Lycenium and wished to wait on you at the earliest opportunity.”
He bowed and stepped back a pace, wishing to appear a loyal courtier and devoted servant.
“Hmm, and what business did you have in Lycenium?” Iacomus asked, as he watched him warily.
“I have a son and daughter-in-law there. They had a child recently and Paulina wished to pay a visit. It is our first grandson,” Decimus stated, and his chest puffed out suddenly, looking every bit the proud grandfather, an attitude he did not wish to hide on this particular occasion.
“And that was your only business in Lycenium?” the Emperor asked.
“Yes; I am from Lycenium, and my son and daughter-in-law remain there.”
“Ah, yes, and your daughter-in-law is also the daughter of a particular Alexandrian, but one who has an annoying habit of vexing the past three imperial rulers! We do not like that association of yours, Decimus. It is a pity that your son ever married that maiden. And we would advise you not to be seen in her company!”
He did not know what to expect, but it was not this. Decimus tried in vain for something to say, but words failed him. He stared at Iacomus with the blank and helpless stare of a gamboling puppy that has been playing with a kitten that suddenly reveals the fangs of a tiger.
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” he was able to say at last. “But I am afraid that I do not understand. You are an Alexandrian; why should this man or his family give you pain?”
The Emperor rose slightly in his chair as if he would rise, but then thought better of it and sat down again abruptly.
“We see a most disturbing pattern lately, Decimus. We have just had to sentence our Palace Guards to death, because every one of them was derelict in their duty. They actually fell asleep, did you know that? As a result, the miracle man and his entire family walked, simply walked! out of this Palace with no one to hinder them.
“We can not permit that kind of carelessness, especially when it comes to the safety of our royal person. Therefore, they all must die. We only delayed their execution as long as we did because we needed to find other men to train quickly to take their places. Now that this is accomplished, every one of those lazy worthless creatures will die tomorrow.”
Iacomus said this as calmly as if he were discussing the latest tidbit of gossip fed to him at an Imperial banquet. But Decimus felt so cold suddenly that he was certain his teeth would chatter in his head.
He merely nodded his head, not really being expected to comment on an Imperial decision.
“But as we were saying,” Iacomus picked up the thread of his thoughts again, “we have noticed a disturbing pattern. Not so long ago we had another prisoner who walked out of the dungeon; it is rumored that he was helped by a Guard who disappeared at the same time and was therefore supposed to have helped him escape. And now our miracle man walked out in the dead of night and every Guard in the Palace lay sleeping. Do you know what pattern we are seeing, Decimus?”
Decimus shook his head, but a sudden rush of blood to his head caused a pounding in his ear, and one eyelid began to twitch.
“Well, we shall tell you what pattern we see: both of these men, as it turns out, are very close friends of your daughter-in-law’s father, Marcus Maximus. Now, how could these two men both escape so easily from a heavily guarded Palace? Is it possible that it is because of their mutual friendship with this Maximus, who is also a relation by marriage of our Minister of State, who has full access to every nook and cranny of the Imperial Palace?”
Chapter XXIII
Cort Arrives In Darian
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The coast where they landed was rocky, and the surf pounded it relentlessly. A soft light beamed down on the land from celestial heights, and the scent of heather wafted to Cort’s nostrils from the highlands above, further in from the shore. The instant he set foot on shore, peace flooded and warmed him, and he had the strange sensation that he had come home. As he turned to look at Siv, radiance illuminated her face, and he knew that she shared his feeling.
They linked arms and strolled slowly away from the pier. They carried what little baggage they possessed, and told the Captain they would not be returning to the ship when it weighed anchor. The Captain was surprised at this statement, but raised no protest at losing a paying passenger.
Cort stopped at the stalls where the merchants displayed their wares and asked for directions to a village or settlement. There was a large one not far from the shore, but tucked out of sight of the coast, he was told. Further up in the highlands were smaller villages scattered throughout the terrain.
Cort and Siv quickly left the open spaces of the shore and headed for the heavily forested interior. They entered with eager anticipation, their hearts high with excitement at the thought of exploring such a lovely land.
They had no more than parted the branches of the trees and taken five steps forward than they were halted in their tracks.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in Darian?” said a booming voice that emanated from a man who was every bit as tall as Dag and just as heavily muscled.
Because of the short woolen robes that the men wore that came to knee length Cort could see the man’s heavily muscled legs. He carried a long pole that he pointed directly at Cort, who deemed it wise to step back a pace. He signaled to Siv to do the same. They stood silently as Cort waited for some inspiration from Dominio to give him the words that would calm the man, who was now glowering at him with a face like a thundercloud just before the storm bursts.
He bowed slightly and raised his arms to show that he bore no weapons.
“My name is Cort Adalbart. I saw your beautiful land and wished to explore it. I was a passenger on a ship that called here once before, and I purchased some of your healing oils. I would love to spend some time here, and learn the ways of your people, for their fame has spread far and wide.”
He earnestly hoped that this explanation would suffice, especially as he did not want any harm to come to Siv. He remembered what the Captain had told him on his previous visit to these shores, that the people thought they were of divine origin, and had been corrupted by a visiting stranger, and now tolerated none…
The man looked at him unmoved; but he inclined his head to another man who stood nearby. They exchanged some hand signals that Cort did not know, and after several exchanges had passed between them the first man turned his attention back to Cort.
He narrowed his eyes and studied him intently; Cort did not blink his eyes nor flinch from the examination. At last the man nodded, and lowered his spear.
“Come, I will take you to the settlement. We have been expecting you.”
The settlement was at least a mile into the interior and walled by a high wooden enclosure that spanned an area of perhaps one hundred acres. Their escort gave the sentry at the wall the password and their party was permitted to enter. They had to walk through a long narrow passageway with a wooden roof over it before they entered the settlement.
The first sight to greet their eyes was that of a row of men seated on stools, whom all must pass in order to proceed. Cort’s escort inclined his head and said something in a language that he had never heard before. The man had addressed Cort and Siv in the Common Tongue, which all who wished to barter and trade used that all might understand one another. Here in the confines of the settlement they spoke their own language and Cort could not follow.
After several moments of talk and much finger pointing at him and his wife, their escort was permitted to let them enter the settlement. Cort’s eyes were now sparkling in his eagerness to see more of this land that had so captivated him on his previous visit. The dwellings of the settlement were curious indeed: they all seemed to be built of flat stones placed so tightly together that he could not see a single crack. The roofs were insulated with thatch that was placed over the stone dwelling for extra warmth. In each roof a small chimney was visible, and he saw columns of smoke here and there. But he was not permitted to look idly around: the escort walked ahead of him and Siv, and the others walked behind them, prodding them when they showed any sign of stopping.
Finally, they stopped before a small house at the extreme edge of the settlement. It was larger than the others, and had a veranda that encompassed it, with crude chairs set around it creating a seating area. Cort thought how refreshing it would be on a summer day to sit there and catch a cooling breeze. He was not given long to reflect on this interesting feature, however, as they were hustled into the interior after their escort first knocked discreetly at the door.
It opened slowly and an old man peered out first at the escort, then with widened eyes at the sight of Cort and Siv. He studied them intently, his eyes traveling from head to foot, and noted their long robes, and their general appearance. His eyes lingered the longest on Cort, who was beginning to worry at the intensity of the examination, and wondered if he had made a mistake to leave the ship so precipitately.
But the old man slowly nodded his head and turned to face the escort.
“You are right. He is the one the prophecy spoke of; he even has blue eyes.”
Chapter XXIV
The Prophecy
Cort did not know whether to be relieved or concerned at these words. What prophecy, and why the mention of his blue eyes?
The old man opened the door and gestured for them to enter. Cort took Siv by the hand and they walked down six stone steps into a wide room with an earthen floor. Mats of rushes bound together were strewn around, in which sweet smelling herbs were intermingled, releasing a delicate aroma that calmed one’s spirit. There were finely carved benches and chairs of some dark glossy wood scattered about, and he glimpsed a narrow passageway that led to other rooms. Tapers of brightly colored wax cast golden shadows into the room, where the windows were already shuttered against the coming of evening.
It was clear to Cort from one glance at Siv that she liked the room; her eyes brightened and her lips smiled softly as she took it in. He had to admit that it had an inviting air, although he was not as certain of the welcome of his host, who watched him with silent eyes and a wariness of strangers. Cort waited for the old man to address him first; around him his escorts seated themselves and also waited on the old man to speak.
When he finally did so Cort was not prepared for his words.
“Long have we waited for you, tell us what you desire and it shall be yours.”
Cort exchanged startled glances with Siv, who was no less astounded than he was.
“I am afraid I do not understand; why have you been waiting for me? For I merely glimpsed your beautiful land from the shore and felt strangely drawn to it.”
The old man nodded before Cort had even finished his sentence.
“Yes, you were drawn to it; for you are the one that was spoken of, the one whose coming was foretold from long ago,” he stated firmly, although his voice retained the quiver of age.
“And what coming is that? I must ask you to explain to me, that I may understand you,” Cort said slowly, but with an effort to be patient.
The old man studied Cort once again, and his eyes took on an absent expression, as if he had left the room and was in some other place and had left the present behind him.
“Yes,” he nodded his head again, “I must share with you the story of our people, and then you will understand.”
The old man motioned to a woman whom Cort had not noticed before. She was stooped with age and her gray hair hung in long braids about her face, falling to her waist. She brought a mug of water to the man, and then stepped back into the shadows of the room.
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nbsp; “I am Riagan,” the old man told Cort and Siv. “This,” he pointed to the old woman, “is my wife, Enid. We rule over our people, if one can be said to rule over our people, for in truth we are all kings, all queens, and there is not a peasant among us, for we are descended from the gods. We know this to be so, for we have this land as a sacred trust, given by them, and to keep it pure is the charge laid on us by them.”
Cort looked out of the corner of his eye at Siv, who had fixed her eyes unblinkingly on the old man and paid him the courtesy of her complete attention. If she were as surprised and amused by the man’s remarks as he was, she gave no indication.
Riagan continued his story.
“Long ago, there lived a maiden of our people named Deirdre. She was as lovely as an autumn afternoon, with locks of flaming hair, a complexion like new cream, and brown eyes as soft as the doe of the forest. She was as a princess to our people, for her father led them at that time. She could have had her pick of any of the youths, for all sought her hand. But to the dismay of her father, she would have none of them, and every year when they challenged one another at the summer games for her favor, she merely laughed and delayed making her choice for another year.
“And then a day came when a stranger came to our shores. A mighty storm had blown his ship off course and into our harbor. And even as the storm brought him, so he brought storms to us. He was not like our people in appearance, for he was tall and lean with hair like the flax in the field and eyes as blue as the sea that laps at our shores.
“We welcomed the stranger, whose name was Tyr, as was our custom, and gave him shelter and shared our hospitality. As a guest, he was lodged with the parents of Deirdre, and as she beheld the stranger, a flame pierced her heart, and she yearned for him with a longing that could not be satisfied until her craving was gorged. She begged her father to be permitted to marry Tyr, and in all other things he would have granted her desire, for she was the joy of his heart, and he wished to please her in all things.
