Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (29 page)

Marcus stared
at Dag with growing dismay. The people of Eirinia had been loyal servants of
Dominio; what had turned their hearts away from Him to serve their old gods
once more? Or
who
had turned them away?

“Dag, do you
know of anyone in Leith who is openly serving the Tuadan and the old gods that
we banished? Have you heard of anyone going to the mound or the high places
from the former days?”

Dag shook his
head, his face filled with the sadness of what he had just recounted. Although
he had not said it to Marcus, he felt that somehow he had failed the people of
Leith, failed Dominio also, that they should want to turn back to their vain
idols.

“No one,” he
said. “I have not seen any evidence of idol worship. Were it not for what took
place at Spring Festival, and the mystery of Brenus’ death, I would have no
reason to suspect anything amiss.”

Marcus
pondered on his statement. And yet, something
was
amiss: terribly amiss.
He shuddered inwardly at the recounting of Brenus’ death. And though it would
be hard for Dag to repeat it, he felt he must hear it again. Somehow he had
missed something in the telling, something that disturbed him greatly…

“Dag, I know
this will be hard, and indeed, I do not wish to cause you pain. But I must ask
you to repeat what you have told me about Brenus, and the manner of his death.
There is something I missed and I feel it is vital for us to know and
understand.”

Dag’s face was
stoic and devoid of expression as he related again the finding of the body of
Brenus. As Marcus listened, he visualized the scene: the lovely May morning,
the mound in the secluded woods, and the body that lay beyond the path. And he
knew what had eluded him.

“That is it!”
he exclaimed; and then lowered his voice as Judoc cast a questioning look in
his direction from where the family was seated together at the front of the
living quarters.

“It’s the
path, Dag. Do you remember the time that Brenus ran off the path as a boy, and
how upset Judoc became? She told us that the Tuadan were the rulers of the wild
places, and those who strayed from the path did not return. We did not take her
seriously, yet you tell me that Brenus was found beyond the mound off the
path.”

He paused for
a moment and saw the dawning look of horror in Dag’s eyes. He nodded silently
in confirmation.

“Brenus
strayed from the path,” Dag murmured. “And he paid for it.”

“Yes. And Laig
told you that he had encountered the Tuadan as a young man and had to return to
the path, that only then would he be safe. Why is that? What is there about the
path that is so vital for the safety of the Eirini? We must find out, for there
I believe lies a possible solution to this mystery.”

Marcus hated
to upset Judoc with his questions, she who was mourning the death of her
firstborn son. And yet he was convinced that there was something about the path
that was of vital importance. How he wished he could consult Logos for a
solution to the mystery! But he had left the Sword in Lycenium, afraid to take
it on his journey lest he be stopped and arrested somewhere and the Sword
confiscated and taken from him.

He was
informed that the family was to be confined to the hut for seven days; they had
already passed five of those days before his arrival. He waited patiently for
the remainder to complete their mourning before asking Judoc for the
information he so sorely needed.

While he
waited, he observed the changes in the Adalbart family now that they were all
assembled together. What a fine young man Cort had become! And his bride, Siv:
Marcus already had a warm spot in his heart for her. He rejoiced to hear the
tale of their courtship from Cort when he had a few moments time with him. How
like his own romance with Tullia: but in this case it was Siv who waited and
prayed for Cort to return to her.

And the sight
of Cort with his mother gladdened Marcus greatly. He had only met Cort’s father
before, that one time in Trekur Lende that disgusted him to this day. What
father could sell his child to the highest bidder to pay his own debts! Now he
saw how Brit’s eyes followed her son, and rested with satisfaction on her
daughter-in-law. He noted also her friendship with Judoc, and was pleased that
there was no rivalry over Cort between his two mothers.

Dag’s children
with Judoc had grown much since he last saw them. Dirk was a broad-shouldered
young man with a high spirit and daring heart, evidenced even in the way he
expressed himself in conversation. His vocabulary consisted of words such as
boldly, fearless, and challenge. Marcus pitied the person who inadvertently
crossed this young man, for it was clear that he was a warrior in the making.
And already Marcus saw the strong resemblance to Dag in his youth.

The younger
son Brand was quiet of manner, with a dreamy expression in his soft brown eyes.
He said little, yet Marcus sensed the heart of a poet. Brand seemed highly
aware of the feelings of others, and sensitive to beauty. For the life of him
Marcus could not tell where Brand received those qualities, as his father was a
fearless hunter who aimed first and worried about the consequences later, and
his mother a busy little woman who scurried and sang about the hut with the
industry of a bee and the joy of a hummingbird. Except that there were no songs
issuing from her lips during the days of her mourning…

Maelys was
clearly going to be the beauty of the family. She possessed her mother’s copper
curls and clear blue eyes, but her straight nose and finely molded cheekbones
bore the stamp of Trekur Lende, and she was tall as the women of Trekur Lende
were. Her height lent stateliness to her stature, and to Marcus she appeared as
a marble figure of a goddess come to life. That she was as intelligent as she
was beautiful was evident as well. She chose her words carefully in
conversation, and she kept her eyes open. And her mouth shut.

Nolwenn seemed
of a gentle spirit and possessed a timid manner. She stole shy glances at
Marcus, but never engaged him in conversation. When he asked her questions in
an attempt to break the ice, she giggled self-consciously and blushed. He would
have thought she might be intimidated by his patrician manner and fine clothes,
but he noted that she was quiet in general, and not given to saying much.
Although not the beauty her older sister was, her dark mane of hair that
cascaded down her back and her delicate features highlighted by wide brown eyes
were undoubtedly pretty and would bring her suitors in the years ahead.

He observed
one exception to her rule of timidity, however, and that was in Nolwenn’s
interaction with one of the strange young women he saw on his arrival. He
discovered that she was the widow of Brenus, which roused his compassion. How
hard for a young wife to lose her husband of only a few months!

His initial
compassion for her would soon vanish after a frank and private conversation
with Cort; one evening shortly after the period of mourning was completed.

He had decided
to take a walk after the evening meal and enjoy the mild balmy air, and to
breathe the aroma of the nearby woods. As he strolled he listened to the sound
of the owls in the trees, and heard the croaking of a frog in a pond just
outside of the village. He felt peace flood his spirit, and reveled in the
signs of life, the renewal of the seasons. He realized how tired he was of
living always in the city, where the rush of chariot wheels and the hawking of
merchants selling their wares were the first sounds of the start of another
day.

He saw a
shadow emerge from the Adalbart hut that headed for his direction. Thinking it
was Dag, he slowed his steps and waited for his old friend to catch up with
him.

It was Cort.

Cort hurried
his steps to overtake Marcus and their steps fell into an easy rhythm as they
walked together. Cort inhaled appreciatively of the fine spring air, and turned
to Marcus with a smile.

“I am so happy
to see you again, Marcus,” he glowed with the smile that Marcus had never
forgotten, like a stray sunbeam that had fallen to earth and gladdened the
hearts of all who beheld it.

“It has been a
hard time of late, especially with the death of my brother,” Cort continued in
a mournful voice, so painful for Marcus to hear.

Marcus
remembered how close Cort and Brenus had been; best friends who became brothers
after the union of Dag and Judoc.

“Tell me about
it, Cort,” Marcus encouraged in a voice as soothing as a mother’s lullaby. “I
am grieved by it also, and much of it does not make sense to me.”

“Nor to any of
us!” Cort exclaimed. “It is a mystery, and there seems to be no answer. My
father says that Laig claims it is the Tuadan. I find that difficult to
believe, yet no explanation is at hand to prove otherwise.”

Marcus
wrinkled his brow thoughtfully, and tried to frame his next words tactfully. He
did not want to alarm his young friend, but how he wanted to solve the mystery
of what was amiss in Eirinia!

“Laig also
claimed that Brenus died because he left the path of safety: that he would have
been safe if he stayed on the path, as the Eirini are warned to do. Do you
believe that also, Cort?”

Marcus now
openly stared at Cort with a perplexed frown on his face. He felt sure that
Cort might know more about his brother’s life than his father or mother did.

Cort nodded
his head slowly. He glanced around him at the advancing twilight in the manner
of one searching for clues to a mystifying puzzle. He looked behind him at the
woods that encroached on the village, now casting tall shadows in the dusk,
ahead of him to the green meadow that shone silver in the moonlight, and to the
man who walked beside him.

“I do,” Cort
said at last, so firmly that Marcus was surprised. “But not in the way that the
Eirini believe it.”

“What do you
mean?” Marcus asked. He noted that Cort called the villagers the Eirini, as
though making a distinction between them and him.

“I believe
that Brenus
did
stray from the path of safety: only it’s not the path
that the villagers refer to. Brenus did a very foolish thing last autumn, and I
believe it is partly responsible for his death.”

He paused a
moment and looked carefully at Marcus for his response. Marcus nodded his head,
certain now that Cort was on the right track.

“Go on,” he
urged. “Explain what you mean.”

“Brenus met a
strange young woman right in those very woods, not far from the spot where we
found his body. It happened last autumn, when he was hunting. He continued to
meet her there secretly, and before any of us even knew of her existence, had
pledged to marry her. I did not meet her until the wedding night, and at once
felt that all was not as it should be with this woman.

“She did not
tell Brenus her history, anything of her family, or even where her homeland is.
She clearly does not serve Dominio, but duped him into believing she did. Or he
simply chose to believe it is more likely.

“I do not need
to tell you of all people, Marcus, the consequences of marrying someone who is
not an Alexandrian. And his wife is not. Does one not step outside the
protection of Dominio when they disobey so blatantly to follow their own
desires? Does that not give the Astra the opportunity to make war against us?

“It is true
that Brenus strayed from the path as a child, and he clearly did so again when
he married Melisande to follow his own desires. In doing so, he left the path
of righteousness that all Alexandrians are sworn to follow, and revealed that
his heart did not fully belong to Dominio.

“And there is
more, Marcus: when the villagers thanked Eoghan at Spring Festival, Brenus
stood with Melisande and the others. He did not stand with our father and the
rest of our family. He and Nolwenn joined the others. What consequences she
will suffer I do not know; yet, she is still but a child and does not fully
understand what she did, so Dominio may grant her mercy. But Brenus knew full
well what he did when he stood with his wife and the villagers who rebelled
against Dominio.

“And in my
opinion, that is the true cause of Brenus’ death. He had no protection from the
Tuadan, or the Astra as we know them to truly be, when he left the path in the
woods, because he had disobeyed the command of Dominio and forsook the path of
righteousness when he married Melisande. And he stood in rebellion with her
against Him, and went further down the path of darkness.

“And I will
tell you this, Marcus: Melisande is a woman who is altogether evil.”

Marcus stared
at Cort, not certain how much of what he said was accurate, and how much his
own imagination regarding his sister-in-law. Marcus had studied her when she
was unaware of it, and found nothing to alarm him, but it was true that there
was much that puzzled him…

Melisande did
not join in the family prayers. She listened with bowed head, but did not chime
in nor agree with the words spoken. Of course, it could have simply been due to
grief, and feeling out of sorts, even angry over the loss of a loved one. But
the behavior of Maelys toward her sister-in-law mystified him as well.

He had noticed
Dag’s eldest daughter watching Melisande from the corner of her eye, especially
when Cort or his wife happened to come near the young widow. And invariably, the
mouth of Maelys would tighten for a reason that Marcus could not fathom.

He brought his
attention back to Cort, who was waiting with obvious impatience. Marcus
realized that he was now a man, and no longer the small boy who had amused
everyone on their Quest of so many years ago. In truth, Cort was only eight
years younger than himself, and even as a child had been remarkably perceptive
about the characters of others. Clearly he must have his reasons for stating
his opinion of his sister-in-law. Marcus gave him his full attention.

“Proceed,” he
encouraged him, with the faintly military air that never failed to amuse his
wife.

In his heart,
Marcus at times still desired the life of a soldier. But then, had he not lived
as one in regards to his service to Dominio and spreading His Kingdom?

Cort heard the
note of command in the voice of his old friend and he hastened to obey it just
as a young soldier would obey his superior officer.

“Melisande is
not even the stranger that she deceived Brenus into believing she is. He
thought her merely an orphan with no family, and fell for every one of her lies
to the contrary. But she is no orphan, Marcus; nor did she travel to Eirinia by
any innocent design.”

Cort paused
and rubbed his hands over his eyes, then dropped a hand to the back of his neck
and rubbed it also. He suddenly had the appearance of a man who was incredibly
weary by a heavy load borne for a long time.

“I was always
struck by a sense of familiarity with Melisande,” Cort murmured. “Yet I could
not recall having met her anywhere; and she denied it emphatically. It was not
until I left Eirinia for a while that I realized who she was. And why she came
here.”

And Cort
tightened his lips and nodded his head, staring at something that only he could
see. Marcus did not comment, but waited for him to collect his thoughts and go
on.

Cort hesitated
for a moment and cast a glance at Marcus. He seemed unsure whether to continue
with whatever narrative he had begun. He opened his lips, and then closed them
again. After what appeared to be an internal counsel with himself, he
proceeded.

“There is
something I must tell you, Marcus: something that pains me deeply. It has been
yet another source of animosity between Melisande and me, and it grew
unbearable last autumn, not long after she and Brenus were wed.

“I had become
aware of her studying me at times when she thought I did not see; but the true
motive behind it was far more serious. To my amazement, she followed me into
the woods one evening and there she threw herself at me. She asked if I loved
her, and said that Brenus had suggested that possibility. I did not believe my
brother ever said such a thing. But she confessed that she loved me, and said
she knew as soon as she met me that she had made a terrible mistake in marrying
Brenus.

“She came to
me and kissed me. I was so stunned I did not pull away, as I simply could not
move, so shocked was I at her behavior. Unfortunately, Brenus had followed
Melisande and, although he did not hear her words to me, he saw what he thought
was me kissing his wife.

“We fought,
right here in these woods. Melisande pretended to be greatly upset, yet I do
not believe that; not for a moment! Brenus threatened to kill me, and I left
the village. Indeed, I left Eirinia altogether and let Dominio lead me to
wherever He wanted to take me.

“My path took
me to Trekur Lende, where I was reunited with my mother and Siv, who had waited
for me all these years. Can you imagine, Marcus? She waited and prayed for my
return! She did not wed another, but waited for me. Such love is too much for
me to fathom!”

Here Cort
sighed in rapture, and Marcus felt his eyes mist with unexpected tears. He
remembered how painful the young man’s last visit to Trekur Lende had been; his
father selling him to the highest bidder and the exile with Dag from their
tribe. And now he had a wife, and was restored to his mother. How good Dominio
was! And surely his reception in his homeland on this visit must have been
healing after the rift with his brother, who had been his best friend.

Cort looked at
Marcus and smiled happily; then a frown crossed his face like a cloud blotting
out the sun, and he continued his story.

“We took the
southern route through Trekur Lende, because I had first stopped in Valerium to
see you, only to hear about the persecution and dispersal of the Alexandrians
there. I did not wish us to return that way, so we traveled through Gaudereaux
to hail the next ship back to Eirinia. And while I was in that land that we
knew so long ago, I understood why Melisande seemed so familiar to me. I heard
the voices of the people again, for the first time in many years, and I knew
where I had heard one like hers before. But where Melisande’s is low and husky
like an oboe, the other’s was high and clear like a flute, but the accent was
the same.”

Cort stared at
Marcus, and comprehension flooded Marcus. It could not be, yet no other
explanation presented itself to him.

“Fanchon?” he
whispered, careful lest Dag may have followed them to join their company.

Cort nodded.
Marcus erupted in an explosive sigh, before quickly stifling it.

“But why, but
how…” he began before his words sputtered out.

“I confronted
her with her secret when I returned home,” Cort said softly. “She did not deny
it, but claimed she came here innocently.”

Marcus
interrupted him, outraged at such a denial. Did the girl think Cort was a fool
to believe she arrived in Eirinia by coincidence?

“Does she
think the Eirini are simpletons that you would believe such a lie?” he asked,
as his face reddened with suppressed anger.

“Yes,” Cort
answered curtly as he nodded his head. “She does. She told me that Fanchon died
when she was a child of only three years old, and she did not know what
happened until she was thirteen; at that time she asked Gaelle, who told her
the whole story of her mother’s betrothal to Dag.

“Gaelle told
Melisande that Fanchon had fallen prey to strange moods, and was at times sunk
deep into melancholy. When Gaelle asked her why, Fanchon told her it was
because of her broken promise to Dominio and the fear that she would never be
forgiven. And she never forgot Dag. Melisande said she never met another like
him. She had married the man who was chosen for her, but was not happy.

“I asked
Melisande why she came to Eirinia: she said she wanted a change of scene after
her father died, and had heard of Eirinia as a land of mystery and decided to
visit it. If anyone else had made such a claim, I might believe them. But there
is more to her intentions, and I do not believe she came here innocently.

“For one
thing, Marcus, she hates Dag, and admitted that. She can not look at him
without revealing murder in her heart. Do you remember what Xenon taught us
about anger; if you have anger toward another, you have already murdered them
in your heart. Alexandros said that. That is one thing. She also said she hates
Dominio for taking Dag away from her mother. That is another thing.

“The third
thing is something she slipped and revealed but that I did not follow up on.
When I confronted her, she said that she thought Brenus was the boy that Dag
adopted because he is dark like Dag, while I am fair.”

Cort stopped
for a moment, and glanced around him. All was quiet: the villagers had retired
to bed for the night, the woods were quiet, only the spring peepers continued
their chirping. As if to satisfy himself that none could hear, Cort nodded his
head but moved closer to Marcus.

“I did not
meet Melisande until the night she and Brenus were wed. I did not speak to her
until after the ceremony. When Brenus introduced me, she noticed my accent was
different from Brenus and my siblings, indeed, from the rest of the villagers.

“I told her
that I hailed from Trekur Lende and she seemed astonished. When I told her that
I came with Dag as a small boy, and that he had adopted me, she turned so white
that I thought she would collapse. Then she looked from me to Brenus and back
again, and murmured to herself, but Brenus and I both heard it and looked at
one another, not understanding her meaning.

“She said,
‘Oh, what I have done?’ It was just then that Judoc came to take her to the
maidens who waited for her to throw the bridal favor.”

Cort drew back
from Marcus’ side and searched his face intently. Marcus stared back at the
young man with a growing sense of alarm in his heart.

“I have often
pondered on her words,” Cort whispered. “And there has been a fear growing on
me that she came to Eirinia with some evil purpose in mind. And I fear she
intended to marry me, but wed Brenus by mistake.”

He nodded his
head firmly and his eyes were a hard and steely blue as he looked at Marcus.

“But what that
intention was, I do not know. I only know that I must find out, and before it
is too late to stop her in her wicked plan.”