Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set)

by L. M. Roth

  A cry went up from the lookout.

  “The Dragon! We are in the Dragon’s Belt!”

  Felix barely had time to shoot Marcus an amused glance when suddenly the sea rose up around them in towering waves. They sank into a trough and rose on a crest higher than any wave Marcus had ever rode on a ship. Down they went, and up they rose.

  Then a deafening roar assaulted their ears as thunder boomed with a rumble resembling the clamor of chariot wheels and pounding hooves in the races that Marcus so enjoyed watching. The sound of one hundred chariots all racing at once could not compare to the awful sound of that thunder. It clutched the heart in fear with its threat of worse to come.

  And worse did come. The sky sizzled with the snapping of lightning that blazed in the darkening sky. Never had Marcus seen such a display of light; it exploded with white ferocity, sending vapor up as it smote the water with lethal aim. A smell like sulfur seemed to accompany it, and Marcus momentarily gave credence to the tale of the Dragon and its revenge.

  But only for a moment. For the wind accelerated and began to spiral, gripping the boat in its vortex. Around and around it spun the boat in a dizzying circle. Marcus tried to find something to grab onto, but was hurled to the deck where he lay facedown.

  He raised his head to try to locate his friends. They too had been slammed to the deck, and lay at the mercy of the wind and the rain. Fearing they would be swept overboard if they stayed on deck, Marcus crawled first to Felix, then to Dag and Cort. He prevailed on them to follow him.

  They crept low along the deck, not standing lest they be caught up in the howling gale. They followed Marcus to the hatch, which was firmly fastened shut. It took their combined strength to pry it open, and scrambled one by one down the rope ladder. Dag held the cover as he entered the hatch, and closed it as he descended. The force of the wind slammed it behind him, nearly knocking it against his head.

  They wearily dropped to the floor panting for breath after their exertions. For several moments they lay, filling their lungs with air, and waited for their gasps to subside.

  Kyrene and Elena rushed from their cabin with wide eyes and outstretched hands.

  “But you are soaked through!” Kyrene exclaimed. “We heard the storm, but did not know you were on deck. We must pray for this storm to stop or I fear the ship will break apart.”

  This outburst was met with a sound that sickened them with fear: a crash from the deck that reverberated below and sent a shudder through the ship, and sent them scurrying topside once more.

  Here their worst fears were confirmed: the mast had snapped, a leak had sprung, and the ship was breaking up.

  Chapter XXVI

  A Desperate Dilemma

  Atop all was in disarray. The mast lay across the deck, the sail covering a few hands that were unfortunate to be standing below it when it fell. They lay still, and did not move again. The Captain shouted orders above the wind, but few heard him, and those who did heeded him not.

  “It is the Dragon, the Dragon!” one screamed in terror as his eyes rolled back in his head. Marcus had once seen a horse look like that just before a chariot race when it turned on its master and kicked him to death. He decided to keep his distance.

  “Save yourselves, save yourselves!” another sailor called out and threw himself overboard.

  Some hesitated and looked to the Captain, but many followed his example. The splash of their plunges was muffled by the howl of the wind and the waves spilling over the deck. The ship bobbed up and down in the billowing swell like a cork without any substance of its own, completely at the mercy of the violence of the tempest.

  “Captain, please you must stop this madness!” Marcus implored. “They will die in those waters; none can survive a sea like this.”

  “Aye, they will die!” the Captain agreed, a gleam of madness in his eye. “We will all die, for who can escape the Dragon’s Belt?”

  “But why throw yourself overboard?” Felix asked. “Yes, the ship is breaking apart, but better to grab a plank to keep yourself afloat,” he reasoned.

  “Why? Why?” the Captain shouted at Felix. “Why, because if they stay the ship goes to the bottom where the Dragon lies in wait for us. Better to swim and get out of the vortex when she sinks to the bottom!”

  And with that the Captain dived from the sinking ship, leaving the little band of friends on the deck in the midst of the wreckage and the dead.

  The ship began to roll, startling them. It now had a distinct list to the right, and was taking water fast. Marcus suddenly straightened himself as the peril of their situation took an urgent turn.

  “Quickly!” he ordered. “Kyrene, you and Elena and Cort go below and grab our packs. If you can’t carry everything, at least take Logos. Dag, Felix, come with me.”

  He led them to the aft part of the ship while Cort and the girls hurried below. Felix, divining his intent, whipped out his dagger. Being more agile than the others, he reached their little boat first; for they had brought it on board with them to use again when they left open sea and could continue by river.

  Felix rapidly cut the bonds that tied the boat to the mooring. They struggled to free it, but the deck was now awash and their feet slipped as they tried to release the little boat, now filling rapidly with water, from its berth. The wind continually splashed sea-water into their eyes, impeding them still further.

  At last Dag with a mighty heave of his strapping shoulders turned the little boat on its side and drained it dry. Marcus and Felix joined him and together they hoisted it above their heads and carried it back to the hatch to wait for the return of the others. They had not long to wait.

  Elena, so it happened, could pack speedily and efficiently due to her experience in servitude, and it was she who commandeered the expedition below decks, drilling the others on the swiftest ways to pack as much as could be carried. She and Kyrene toted three bundles each, while Cort struggled with two. Dag quickly came to his aid, and they stowed their packs in the little boat, while Marcus shared his plan.

  “We must get out of the current or we will never survive. You saw those sailors jump; not one of them has surfaced. Let us pray and ask Dominio to guide our boat, just as Zoe did when we took the River.”

  They bowed their heads and prayed fervently.

  “O Dominio,” Marcus began, “You did not bring us this far only to have us die in this storm. Our faith is in You; our hope is in You. Grant us life that we may serve You and lead others to You as we advance Your Kingdom.”

  “Amen,” Kyrene agreed.

  “Amen.” “Amen.” “Amen,” chimed in Felix, Dag, and Cort with one voice. Elena remained silent.

  Marcus then took several of the ropes that lay scattered on the deck. He looped one end around himself and secured it with a knot, then passed the next portion to Felix to do the same. In this fashion they continued one to the other until they were all bound together. He also passed the remaining ends of the rope through the empty holes where the oars were stored, thus tying them fast to the boat. Thus, when the waves knocked them about, they would not spill out of the boat, nor be lost from each other.

  When he had finished, he slowly took a deep breath. Then he shouted his instructions over the whirling tempest.

  “When the next swell comes, I want all of you to put your hands in the water and push with all your might. We must get off the ship before it takes us to the bottom with its descent. Once we are free of the ship, we must row with our hands away from it and get out of this current. One man swimming alone cannot do it, but a team united may succeed. Do you understand?”

  They all nodded; Elena tense and pale, Cort’s eyes sparkling with excitement, Kyrene gazing calmly at Marcus, Dag’s countenance impassive with stoic resignation. But Felix gave Marcus a look of confident trust that warmed his heart and gave him reassurance in his own ability to lead. He nodded back at them.

  They sat rigidly in the boat, watching the water rise on deck with anxious eyes. They were sinking cl
oser to the level of the water when suddenly the wind dropped and the waters calmed.

  “What,” Felix stammered but Kyrene interrupted.

  “It is only a lull,” she said. “I have seen it on the Isle of Phaulosene many times. It is an isle near Solone that is subject to fierce storms that blow up from the sea without warning. The wind will soon return and howl with renewed ferocity. We must hurry and break free; there is no time to lose!”

  At her urging they plunged their hands into the water. With no swell to buoy them it was more difficult to leave the ship. The ship, however, tempest or no, continued to sink beneath them. They waited for the moment the deck was below the level of the sea…

  At last, they felt a tug beneath them as the ship started to flounder.

  “Hurry!” Marcus commanded. “Row with your hands away from here!”

  They threw themselves into rowing, all leaning backwards in the same direction, with one mind and will. The sinking ship attempted to drag them in its wake but their combined efforts kept them afloat.

  When the ship could resist the pull no longer, it dived, sending a wave cresting from its descent. Frantically they rowed their hands with the wave, away from the ship in its death spiral. They felt a lifting as the little boat caught the wave and rode it, and broke them free of the clutching grasp of the sea.

  Chapter XXVII

  The Mysterious Isle

  They were free of the ship, but as Kyrene warned, the storm returned with a vengeance. Rowing frantically with their hands they released themselves from the treacherous current. They had not gone more than a few miles from the site of the shipwreck when they heard once more the howling fury of the tempest.

  The sea grew choppy and the waves began to rise. From the gloomy black of the evening sky the rain fell in a spate that pounded their skin, blinding their eyes. Thunder shook the sea and reverberated in their little boat. Lightning flashed, revealing the banks of clouds hidden in the dark of night.

  Then the wind rose savagely once again, beating their little boat as if punishing a wayward child. Elena cried out in fear, and Cort held onto the boat tightly, clenching his lips lest a cry escape from them. Kyrene looked ahead, her lips moving silently in prayer. Felix said nothing but rowed all the harder. In this effort Dag joined him, with unrelenting vigor as his mighty arms plunged and lifted in the water with unbroken regularity.

  They soon became aware, however, that this time the wind did not blow them about with the bobbing helplessness of a child’s toy ship. For now, they were free of the current that had caught the ship in the vortex; the gale drove them on in one direction as if in a single-minded purpose. Whither to, they could not tell; yet all of them felt they were being carried on a predetermined course sending them to an unknown fate.

  Through the night they sped on, too weary to even attempt to fight; for they could not row against the force of that fierce tempest, all attempts being of no avail. They saved their strength and prayed, entreating Domino to protect them and guide them to safety.

  Gradually the wind died down until only a steady breeze remained. The waves calmed to a gentle lapping of water against the sides of the boat. The thunder ceased to bellow, and the lightning no longer split the sky in dazzling flashes of brilliant light.

  As the sun rose, they found themselves adrift on an expanse of sea as blue as the sky at high noon. The morning rays kissed the water with a rosy glow, turning it to a mysterious mauve.

  They relaxed and stretched their aching arms. Now that the storm had passed, they were content to drift idly as they regained their strength. The sun rose higher overhead, warming their bodies now chilled by their sodden clothes.

  A pair of gulls flew past, issuing a mournful cry. The lament reflected the mood of Marcus’ heart, as he thought of the Captain and crew who perished in the tempest. If only they had heeded the voice of reason, he rued.

  Suddenly, he started. Gulls! They had seen gulls. And where there were gulls, land was not far away.

  “Dag!” Marcus cried out. “Follow the gulls; they will lead us to land.”

  Dag nodded. The stalwart Trekur Lender once more lowered his arms into the water and began to row in the wake of the gulls.

  Shortly before noon, they rounded the island. It was not very large, being perhaps two miles long by five miles wide. At first glance, there appeared nothing remarkable about it.

  As they neared the coast, however, they noted the oddity of the landscape. While it boasted an abundance of lush green grass, not a single tree was to be seen. Most remarkable were the clusters of what appeared to be large stones or pillars that dotted the island. But not a sign of human life did they detect…

  Kyrene spoke first.

  “I do not like the look of this place, Marcus,” she whispered. “Nor does it feel right.”

  Inwardly, Marcus agreed. But they needed a place to rest after the horror of the storm and the shipwreck.

  “I agree with you, Kyrene,” he said as he nodded his head. “However, I feel we must take whatever opportunity for rest presents itself before continuing our journey.”

  Thus, with foreboding, they steered the small boat into a cove. There they beached it while they surveyed the coast. They left the shore and headed for the stony pillars they had spied from the water.

  Upon closer inspection, they proved to be white stones that had been roughly cut and hewn into large blocks. They were not tall enough to be pillars, nor was there any sign of the remains of a temple as they knew it. They had obviously been fashioned by human hands, yet the island was clearly uninhabited.

  “Here is a mystery,” Felix observed. “What think you of it, Marcus?”

  “I know not,” Marcus responded, speaking rather slowly as he pondered the stones. “Do you have any insight, Kyrene?”

  Kyrene wrinkled her brow, her eyes boring in on the standing stones.

  “I cannot fathom why they should be here; fashioned by human hand, yet not a soul to be found. There are no remains of a floor to indicate a temple once stood here, yet I divine some sacrificial significance to them. Who made them, and why? And where are the people whose hands erected them? It troubles me in my spirit.”

  She paused.

  “I do not like this place,” she shuddered as shook her head, and her tawny waves bounced as if for emphasis.

  “Well,” Felix said, after a brief period of silence. “Since there are no inhabitants to challenge us, and we need a respite, I opt that we explore a bit and get some sleep.”

  The others agreed, somewhat reluctantly on the part of Kyrene and Marcus. But something of Kyrene’s uneasiness infected Dag, and he made a startling announcement.

  “You sleep: I will keep guard,” he stated.

  Marcus was surprised for surely the great man must be exhausted. The bulk of the responsibility for rowing the boat had fallen primarily on the shoulders of the hardy Trekur Lender. He felt relief that they would not be unprotected, yet a pang of guilt accompanied it.

  “Allow me to sleep for two hours, then wake me and I will relieve you in your watch while you take some rest.”

  Dag agreed, and they found a spot shaded by the standing stones where they were shielded by the hot rays of the sun.

  Marcus threw himself down on the grassy floor; he felt a lessening of tension at once as he nested down in the emerald carpet. He had forgotten the feel of grass, and how as a small boy he had thrown off his sandals and run through the green blades that encompassed the gardens of his father’s villa. He breathed in the fresh scent, and felt the sun warming his body more soothingly than any blanket. He heard the gentle slap of the waves caressing the shore, and the occasional cry of a gull. Within moments of lying down he was lulled and carried off into a deep slumber.

  It seemed only moments later when Dag woke him. Torn abruptly from sleep, it took several moments to orient himself to his surroundings. He nodded to the Trekur Lender who appeared drooping with weariness. Thus relieved, Dag smiled gratefully and laid himsel
f down. His snoring soon assured Marcus that he was sound asleep.

  Marcus struggled to keep his eyes open. His short rest had only served to make him aware of how truly exhausted he was. He blinked his eyes, shook his head, and stomped his feet, but to no avail. Deciding that sitting in one spot only made him sleepier, he rose to his feet and began to pace. He soon felt his brain clear of its sleep induced fog, and his mind became alert once again.

  As he paced he listened for any signs of life, but heard nothing except the occasional gull, and the rumble of Dag’s snores.

  How strange is this place, he mused to himself. He shared Kyrene’s uneasiness and wondered why the island affected them thus. What events had transpired here that left such a pervading sense of foreboding?

  About an hour after he woke, Kyrene stirred. She lay for a few minutes with widened eyes, her body tense as if she also listened for something. Finally, she rose to her feet and joined Marcus.

  “Kyrene,” he whispered, “you should sleep. We do not know what lies ahead and how long before we may rest again.”

  “Nay, Marcus,” she answered. “I slept a while, but I cannot rest. There is something evil about this island; some great wickedness took place here. In truth, I sense danger!”

  “That is it!” Marcus exclaimed; then lowered his voice so as not to disturb the sleepers. “I feel that also, as if we are being watched by unseen eyes. What do you discern? What do you make of the strange stones?”

  Kyrene did not answer at once. She gazed at the stones with a far off look in her eyes, as if she were divining the secret of the stones.

  “I sense the stones were part of some ritual,” she surmised at last. “It is not possible they were used as shelter, for there is no roof, no floor. Yet they are not aligned in straight rows as pillars would be, so they do not appear to be the remnants of a temple, such as we would recognize. Some one made them, but why? And where are the people who placed them here?