by L. M. Roth
“Why should I fear your god?” asked Arvid. “He is merely another, and Jytte is Queen of them all. It is she who makes the healing spring; and if, as you say, you have these springs in your land also, then her power is even greater than we knew.”
This statement confounded Felix, who had supposed that his proving the stream of healing to be no greater than those of his own country would divest Jytte of any false claims to divinity. He turned in consternation to Marcus for assistance.
But Marcus remembered the words of Logos, written on the blade only the night before…
“Logos, remember,” he mouthed silently to Felix, and Felix suddenly remembered, and drew himself up to a height that made him seem divinely tall.
“Yet, I say you shall fear my God!” Felix suddenly declared. “For Dominio is greater, far greater than Jytte or any other of your gods whom you serve.”
He faced Arvid and the assembled gathering.
“You worship Jytte because you believe she heals you through these springs. Yet I say that Dominio has the power to transform these springs, and turn salt water into fresh!”
A ripple of excitement ran through the onlookers. Kyrene turned on Felix a look both questioning and appalled, but he merely smiled at her and nodded as if to say, trust me.
Arvid once again quelled the agitation of the crowd with an upraised hand.
“Show us your proof!” he flung at Felix.
Felix held up the cup of water. He gently laid one hand over the rim of it. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened his mouth.
“O great Dominio,” he prayed. “It is You who made all of creation. It is Your power alone that sustains all of life. It is You who send forth the rivers of living water to satisfy and refresh. Even now, O great Dominio, breathe on this water, and turn salt into fresh!”
Felix removed his hand, and lifted the cup upward. The sun, which for a moment had been hidden by a cloud, suddenly reappeared and beamed with renewed intensity. Then Felix lowered the cup and offered it to Arvid.
The Thene hesitated, looking with trepidation at the mug. Then he drank. He took a tiny sip, remembering the salt of his previous attempt. A look of wonder transformed his craggy face. He sniffed the water, and then sipped it again. Then he drank from it thirstily, draining the cup in one long swallow.
“It is fresh!” he exclaimed. “And it is the best water I have ever tasted, so crisp and invigorating. I feel as if my youth were restored!”
Amazement fell on all gathered, and a mighty cheer arose. Cort and Dag embraced, as did Kyrene and Elena. The Thene addressed Felix once more.
“Truly, you were right. Your Dominio has power even over Jytte. I wish to know more of Him. You are released, you and your companions, from your imprisonment. Yet I would have you stay a while, to tell us more of your God, so that we may serve Him also.”
No greater joy could fill the heart of Marcus than that statement. How good, how faithful was Dominio! In the general rejoicing he took no more notice of Felix who had sidled closer to him. Feeling a nudge in his ribs, he glanced at Felix, who looked down at his hand.
In it he held the small bottle of water, stopped with the cork.
Puzzled, Marcus looked questioningly at Felix.
“How,” he started to ask, only to stop at Felix’s warning glance.
“I stopped it up and hid it when all were distracted by Ane fetching the cup. Now you can take a little of the Fountain of Youth back to Aurora!”
Chapter IX
The Mountains of Moogotypan
They stayed in Jytte’s Land for the remainder of the winter, instructing them in the teachings of Alexandros. Gunnar was of invaluable assistance. One of the joys of their stay in Jytte’s Land was their acquaintance with Gunnar. He had been born and bred in that country, and had believed in Jytte like all of his people. He also had blindly given adoration to her, simply because he had known of no other god.
But a few years back a prisoner had shared the Good News with him the night before he himself was executed. His story was a revelation to Gunnar, yet he was not persuaded that it was true. It was only the courageous manner in which he went to his death that convinced Gunnar that the man’s faith was genuine, and he had given his heart to Alexandros as he watched the man’s execution, and pledged himself to the service of Dominio. Since that time he had come to know and experience the presence of Dominio, and was filled with His Spirit, and knew that He was real.
Arvid was the first to give his allegiance to Dominio, and pronounced that henceforth Jytte’s Land would be known as Grete’s Land, Grete being the word for pearl in their language. Arvid had been much captivated by the story of the Pearl, and how its ownership cost all that one possessed. He ordered the sacred statue of Jytte destroyed, and the worship of her abolished. Throughout the land they went, cleansing it from the abomination of her idolatry, and dedicating the land to Dominio and the advancement of His Kingdom.
Halvor alone defied the Thene, and persisted in his worship of Jytte. When the word of it was brought to Arvid, he ordered Halvor to be brought into his presence, where he forbade him to ever worship Jytte again or face banishment from Grete’s Land.
Halvor defiantly chose banishment and cursed the luckless day that brought Marcus and his friends to their land. They discovered that Halvor had been Ylva’s secret lover, and she had influenced Halvor, who in turn planted seeds of doubt toward any new faith in the Thene’s minister, who was a friend of Halvor’s and had direct access to Arvid. Thus the web of deceit was spun, and at the death of Ylva all within its grasp was released. All but Halvor, who still felt her spell though she lay dead.
When Marcus asked for Ylva’s history, he was told that little was known about her. She had simply appeared in their midst one day about three years before, and said she had been washed up on their shores after a mighty storm wrecked the ship on which she was traveling. The storm scattered the remnants of the ship and its crew, and Ylva alone was cast away on Jytte’s Land. When faced with the choice of death or joining them, she chose to stay and avidly became a devotee and soon had Halvor ensnared in her grasp, and spurred on others to remain loyal to Jytte and serve her with fervent devotion.
Marcus occasionally puzzled over the strange and eerie transformation he had beheld in Ylva’s face just before she died. Upon encountering Kyrene taking a walk alone one day, he asked her about it.
“Was Ylva one of the Astra?” he asked abruptly, without preamble.
Kyrene, accustomed by now to this son of a soldier and his imperative manner that bordered on curtness at times, took no offense.
“I believe it is possible,” she answered. “I am not certain if she was one of the Astra themselves in human form, or if she had given herself to them so completely that they could take over her form. But you saw how she called for our blood to be spilled, even before we named Dominio as our God whom we serve. She knew who we were, even as she watched us in the forest and stalked us as some game she would gorge herself on. She understood Dag’s language, though she answered his question in the Common Tongue, when no one else knew of our lands. And none knew from whence she came, yet she exerted tremendous power over the people of Jytte’s Land.”
Marcus meditated on her answer.
“What of Halvor? Was he one of them as well?” he asked.
Kyrene considered the question, a small frown wrinkling her brow.
“I think not,” she returned. “For you saw how passionate his grieving was as he held her body in his arms. It is certain that he loved her, and the Astra are incapable of love. Therefore, I think Halvor was merely a man, one of her dupes whom she deceived in order to rule through them.”
Kyrene looked Marcus fully in the face.
“Do not waste any pity on Ylva, Marcus; for she in her evil set her own course long ago. She lusted for bloodshed, and it was her own that was poured out. Pity instead poor Halvor, and pray that the day comes when he can break free of her deception, and turn to the Ligh
t and be saved.”
The long winter was ending, and they must take leave of their new friends. They had lingered until the ice over the ponds had snapped with the first thaw, and the pine branches shook off their last dusting of snow. The robin had returned and heralded in song the first warming rays of the sun. On a day in early April, when the last of the snow on the river banks had melted into the water below, they continued their journey.
It was with genuine regret that they bade farewell to Gunnar. What a friend he had proved to be; putting his own life at risk to save theirs. Over the winter he had bonded with Dag as fellow Northerners, and it amused Marcus to watch them together; Dag so stoic of expression and slow of speech, and Gunnar so animated of face and quick to play a practical joke on his new friend.
Marcus recalled with relish the morning when Gunnar, aware of Dag’s fondness for honey, hid the pot that sat on the table where they broke their fast in the morning. It was Dag’s custom to smear a liberal amount on his bread, and he was extremely upset the day he found it missing. He searched in every corner of the room where they dined, then stormed to the kitchen to confront Ane. She was confounded and stammered that she had placed it on the table as usual that morning.
A burst of laughter from Gunnar alerted Dag that mischief was afoot. He turned on him and demanded to know where the honey was. Gunnar could barely contain his merriment.
“You must hunt for it, and show us if you are as good a hunter as Cort says you are!” he chuckled, unfazed by Dag’s scowl.
Dag was not deterred, and he searched throughout the great hall, but no honey was to be found.
“Where is it?” he roared at Gunnar.
By this time everyone gathered in the hall was in gales of mirth at Dag’s determination to find the honey. Even the usually sober Elena was giggling uncontrollably, and she clung to Kyrene’s arm, so weak was she from laughter.
“I will find it; you may be sure, yah!” Dag threatened in all seriousness.
This threat was the undoing of Kyrene, who dissolved into a heap of hysterics on the floor, and had to be pulled to her feet by Elena, who nearly fell with her while clasping her arm.
“You are wasting time looking in here,” Gunnar advised Dag.
“It is not in the house?” Dag questioned, and he headed for the door at the rear of the hall.
Without even stopping to don his kapake he burst through the door and searched anew. He looked first in the bushes that grew near the door, but turned up nothing.
He turned over empty flower pots waiting for their spring flowers in the adjacent garden. They were empty. Nor did the stones that bordered the garden reveal anything when he looked behind them.
Suddenly, Elena’s laughter was cut off and a scream erupted from her lips. All turned in the direction of her gaze.
At the foot of an elm tree only a few yards from where they gathered, a large brown bear was reared on its hind legs, attempting to reach something in the fork of the trunk.
On hearing the scream, the bear turned its attention from the tree and toward the assembled group, now closer to the bear than they were the safety of the house. It charged them as they stood frozen in place. Without any hesitation Dag picked up one of the heavy stones that ringed the garden, and running at the charging bear, flung it at the head of the great beast.
They heard a loud thud, and the bear fell to one side, its skull crushed. Dag did not stop to examine his kill, but headed straight for the tree. He peered up into its branches, and picked up a limb that had snapped off and fallen to the ground. He raised it over his head and grappled for something in the tree.
Down fell the honey pot, and a beaming Dag bore it back to the others, who were still frozen in place, stunned by their near brush with death.
“I found it!” Dag triumphed to Gunnar, who stared at his friend, his mouth opened wide in amazement.
“And as you can see,” Felix said, pointing to the dead bear, “he is as good a hunter as Cort said he is.”
Now they were carried once more on the River Zoe. She carried them southward for a day or two; then her course veered sharply eastward. Along the banks they saw willow trees draping their branches, clad in the pale green of spring. Small yellow birds similar to finches flitted along the shore and warbled cheerfully. Here and there they spotted tall white birds with long legs wading out in the middle of the stream, ducking their heads below the surface to snatch an unwary fish for its meal.
Overhead the sun rode the sky and warmed them in its soothing glow. Gratefully they lifted their faces to its kiss, savoring the beaming rays after the long harsh winter of Grete’s Land.
A sense of laziness descended on all of them. One by one they closed their eyes and nodded off, lulled by the warmth of the sun, and the gentle rhythm of the river’s current. Content to let Zoe carry them along they succumbed to slumber and drifted away on the tide of sleep.
A thud and a sudden stop shook them out of their sleep. The boat had come to rest in an inland cove. Stupid with sleep they took several moments to become fully awake and take stock of their surroundings.
Zoe had narrowed to a small rivulet too tiny to navigate. They debarked from the boat onto a bank dotted with willows such as they had seen earlier in the day. They spied a footpath in the new grass and decided to follow it. Since this was where Zoe stopped it must be where they were meant to go.
A shock lay in store for them, however. During the hours they dozed in the sun they had been unaware of the course Zoe had taken. It was an astonishing revelation to them when the path led them uphill over a grassy bank and they found themselves peering through the willow branches and looking downward at a lake surrounded by mountain peaks. Zoe had carried them upward into a mountain range.
And what unusual peaks they were to be sure! High and straight they rose in triangular peaks like the great teeth of some mythological creature. Like gray granite, hard and glittering, yet capped with pristine snow. Reflected in the clear waters of the lake they seemed to capture them between their jaws like some beast that was loathed to let them go. They saw in the distance peak after peak, and still more beyond.
It was late afternoon, and Marcus decided they must hurry to find some shelter in which to pass the night. The landscape looked foreboding and unfriendly, though he would not admit that to himself.
Where, he wondered, had Zoe led them now? And whether the inhabitants of this strange land would prove to be as hostile as the terrain which they found facing them.
Chapter X
A Rooftop World
They descended the path through the willows to the valley below. The spring warmth cooled gradually as the sun began to set. It took an hour to walk from the peak on which Zoe had placed them to the lake, now shimmering pink and violet as it reflected the sunset.
The setting sun also cast a rosy glow on the gray peaks that encircled the lake, illuminating them with an unearthly light. At one end of the lake, tall fir trees cast a shadow over the grass bordering the lake, adding further to the eerie vista.
As they reached the valley floor they became aware that they had seen no sign of life, human or animal. No chattering squirrels gathering nuts, no shy rabbits hopping away from their approach, no birdsong shattering the twilight silence. It was utterly quiet, with an eerie stillness.
Marcus decided they could examine the reasons for the strange absence of life later. For now, they must seek shelter for the night. He knew that once the sun set it would become bitterly cold, and further travel would be impeded by it.
They found a small cluster of trees within the firs that would offer them a primitive curtain from the mountain breezes. Here within the trees grew low-lying bushes that buffered them from the cold. They spread their furs over themselves, and lay down in the cabins of their boat to avoid contact with the forest floor. There they dozed fitfully through the night and waited for the break of day.
It was the sun that woke them, filtering through the windows. Here at the heights it rose
as a great ball of fire, warming them even as it blazed in their eyes. It rose rapidly in the sky and soon hung overhead, so close that it made them uneasy. Surely it should be placed higher in the heavens? It was so near that they realized they must be at a very high elevation indeed…
They quickly broke their fast with some of the cheese and bread and dried fruit they had taken with them from Grete’s Land. After they ate, they joined together in prayer as was their custom. Their prayers for guidance were even more heartfelt than usual, as they had not an inkling where they were or where they were going.
At last when they judged it to be about ten o’clock in the morning they set out again on the path they found the previous day. It continued between the fir trees at the edge of the lake and wound upward, taking them up to the heights once again.
As they trudged along the trek became more difficult. The path changed from grass to pebbles, although still clearly visible as a path. Their pace slowed and their breath came harder as the air became thinner. Overhead the sun seemed hotter then they were accustomed to, being closer than was the norm.
By about half past four in the afternoon, they at last reached the top of the strange peaks they had spotted on the previous day. They arrived at the summit one by one, and looked down on a panorama that looked like something out of a dream world…
In every direction, they saw peak upon peak upon peak. At first glance Marcus saw what he thought was snow on the peaks in the distance. It was with a jolt of astonishment that he realized it was not snow, but clouds that shrouded the summits just beyond in mystery. It would seem that Zoe had brought them to the very rooftop of the world…
“How,” Felix said, finally breaking the silence that had overcome them, “shall we ever make it over those mountains? And for what purpose have we been led here?”
