Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (45 page)

Cort and Siv
were greeted effusively by Pascal and tenderly by his wife.

But how
wonderful to see him! Pascal exclaimed. And how he had grown since last they
saw him. Why, he was a man now, a tall young man with a wife, and a fine one at
that!

Gaelle smiled
at him and patted his cheek with remembered fondness. Cort recalled how much he
had liked this couple and some of the dread he had felt in calling on them fell
away from him at their obvious joy in seeing him.

And yet there
was pain for them as well, he sensed. For how could they not be reminded of Dag
and the betrothal to their daughter that had come to naught, and yet had been
instrumental in her death if Melisande’s account was to be believed.

He had decided
to take Siv with him on the pretext of introducing his new bride to the couple,
as was the custom among civilized people. Brit remained behind at the inn so as
not to overwhelm Pascal and Gaelle. He did not rush to state his true purpose
in the visit, but was content to allow the conversation to proceed naturally.
That the couple was at first puzzled by his call was evident, though quickly
masked by their genuine joy at the reunion.

Why, it made
him feel young again to see Cort! Pascal said. Ah, the memories of that merry
band of young people who had lightened their hearts when they stayed at the
villa. Where were they now, Pascal asked. Did they fare well?

Gaelle nudged
him slightly and took over the line of questioning. How good it was to see
Cort, she said. And what a pleasure to meet his bride!

But he sensed
that she did not really wish to hear news of Dag. That it would only bring pain
to speak of him Cort was well aware. And yet there was no way to avoid it…

At last the
question he waited for was put to him.

“And what
brings you to Gaudereaux?” Gaelle inquired. “For I believe you went to Eirinia,
did you not?”

Cort blinked
his eyes in astonishment: he had not been aware that Fanchon’s parents had
known his ultimate destination. He had never seen them again after they left
their daughter here to return with Marcus to Valerium to report to the Empress
Aurora.

“Yes, I did go
to Erinia and I made my home there,” he replied. “But I admit I am puzzled how
news of that reached you here in Gaudereaux. For I have not seen anyone from
your land until recently. How came you to have any news of me?”

And he turned
to face her in genuine puzzlement as a frown wrinkled his brow. But Gaelle
merely smiled at his surprise.

“It was
Governor Urbanus,” she stated simply. “Or Emperor Urbanus as he now is. You
see, he always retained a fondness for Gaudereaux, and he paid a visit a year
ago last spring. It was spring that he loved in this land, the gentle warmth
that came earlier than in other lands, and the flowers, which he said were more
enchanting than the delicate blooms that grow in Valerium.

“He called on
us and mentioned that he saw much of Marcus Maximus, who lived in Potentus, and
that you and your father occasionally visited him. It was he who told us that
you and, you and…Dag, had made your home in Eirinia.”

For a moment,
Gaelle faltered over Dag’s name and Cort feared she would not be able to finish
her sentence. But she resolutely continued and Cort admired the fact that she
did not shed tears or show any anger when mentioning the man who had affected
the fate of her daughter.

Gaelle
recovered her composure and returned to her question.

“You are
visiting Gaudereaux, Cort? Are you enjoying some travels, or is Gaudereaux
merely on your way to some other destination?”

Cort did not
wish to deceive this couple that he still felt such a warm affection for. He
suddenly realized that they were now related to him by marriage, and knew also
that this fact provided him with all the excuse he needed for his visit.

“Yes, I am
enjoying some travels,” he answered. “I have my wife and mother with me, but
they are relaxing in an inn after the ordeal which we have just passed through.
Our ship had an unexpected meeting with a whale this morning and that changed
not only our plans but the Captain’s and crew’s as well. All are safe, except
for the lookout who did not spot it in time, and fell to his death.”

Cort paused
for a moment, somber in his reflection of the death of the lookout. Gaelle saw
his changed mood and waited considerately for him to continue.

“When we came
ashore, I realized that we had landed in Gaudereaux,” he explained. “And I
wished to call on you at once, although you did not expect me.”

“That is not a
problem,” she hastened to assure him. “It is always good to see old friends,
and more of a pleasure for being unexpected.”

Cort smiled
thankfully at her, and then proceeded to impart his news.

“Yes, it is
good to see old friends once again,” he agreed. “However, in our case we are
more than old friends.”

He paused for
a moment to gauge their reactions. Gaelle’s smile turned a little blank, and
she glanced at her husband with a frown of puzzlement in her eyes. Pascal
merely shrugged his shoulders and looked inquiringly at Cort.

So it is clear
that they do not know, he thought. Melisande has never contacted them about the
marriage; just as I suspected.

“Yes, more
than old friends,” he continued. “For we are now family. You see, your
granddaughter Melisande arrived in Eirinia last year and quickly married my
adopted brother, Brenus.”

Pascal let out
a breath of air so suddenly and deeply that it sounded to Cort like a sail that
has been stilled by the wind dying and leaving it hang listlessly on the mast.
But Gaelle gasped and put a hand to her mouth before stifling a cry.

“Melisande!”
she burst out. “We have not seen her in just over a year. She left suddenly one
day and did not leave a message for us, informing us of her destination, or
even her purpose in going. We have been distraught, wondering what happened to
her, and whether she is dead or alive. When did this happen, Cort?”

“She arrived
in Eirinia last September. She and Brenus married quickly, but she did not tell
anyone of her origins or her people. I did not know for many months, but I
learned at last and discovered why she was so secretive. For it is clear that
she knew my father Dag was once betrothed to her mother, and that is why she
kept her secret to herself.”

He paused
here, uncertain how much more to reveal of Melisande’s confession. He did not
wish to hurt the grandparents who were clearly in the dark regarding her
motives and destination.

But Gaelle
surprised him with a revelation of her own.

“I am relieved
that she is alive and unharmed,” she commented. “But I am astonished that she
married the son of Dag Adalbart, for she hates him more than anyone in the
world.”

She had told
Melisande the story of her mother’s betrothal to Dag, and how Fanchon had
regretted breaking it afterward. But although she had loved Dag and never truly
forgotten him, it was not Dag but her broken promise to serve Dominio that
haunted Fanchon until the day she died, taking her own life because she found
her days unbearable.

She feared
that she would never be forgiven, she had told Gaelle, and life was now dark
without the light she had so briefly known in the days she had attempted to
serve Dominio and pledged herself to spread the Kingdom of Alexandros. And yet,
that life was one that she found too hard to endure, and felt that she could
never return to it. But finding no joy either in the life she led at present,
she simply ended it.

“But, that is
not what Melisande told me!” Cort interjected. “She said that it was the loss
of Dag’s love and his choice of Dominio over her that made Fanchon take her
life. She told me this: I swear it!”

Gaelle smiled
at him sadly and shook her head.

“Melisande may
have told you that, but that does not make it true. I made it very clear to her
why my daughter took her life, but she said she hated Dag and would have her
revenge on him. She said this at the age of thirteen, and she never wavered in
that statement, not even after her father died last winter and I thought that
grief at his passing would have distracted her from the bitterness she still
bore at the loss of her mother.

“She would see
to it one day, she vowed, that Dag would lose his children, even as he had
taken her mother from her, and she would turn their hearts away from the God
that he had loved more than Fanchon, and for Whom he had abandoned her; and
only then would the soul of her mother find rest.”

Maelys had
risen early after a restless night spent wide awake. All night she had shifted
from one position to another, but sleep was like a chimera that eluded her.
When she heard the cock crow she kicked off her light woolen blanket in
frustration and decided to take a brisk walk to shake off the sleepiness that
engulfed her on this late August morning.

The dawn was
just breaking in the eastern sky, but the sun’s rays that cast rose and violet
tints in a firmament of inky black seemed too feeble to throw off the darkness
that still encircled the earth. How could that small golden orb shatter the
gloom of the night? Maelys realized that such a thought was a fairly accurate
summing up of her feelings: she felt too small and insignificant to destroy the
evil that threatened to engulf herself and her family.

The larks were
just warming up their vocal chords, ready to enchant the early riser with their
glorious songs. The last of the nocturnal warblers were still to be heard, but
the chirping of the crickets died down gradually as one by one they yielded to
the songbirds. The breeze began to sing softly through the trees and set the
leaves dancing. She felt a soft ruffle on her cheek, and the coolness calmed
her spirit after the turmoil of the night just spent.

Where was her
father? And Cort? He had left in June, and her father just a few weeks later.
Now August was nearly past and there had been no word from either of them. And
the Summer Festival had proved the need for both of them to return to the village.

Maelys cast
her mind back to the events of a couple of weeks ago. The villagers had
gathered on the green of the square, still dotted with summer wildflowers, as
was their custom for all celebrations. The young people and children had danced
in a circle to the old folk songs beloved by the Eirini people, most of them
about love and courtship. The older women had made a feast, each bringing their
special breads, pies, and dishes of game to the large table that soon groaned
under the weight of their offering.

All was as
usual until Niamh approached the center of the square. Maelys instantly felt
the muscles of her stomach knot up, remembering the incident at Spring Festival
that had so distressed her father. Her fears were immediately justified as
Niamh raised her arms skyward and intoned a chant that made the blood of Maelys
rush to her head, causing it to pound and throb so violently that she thought
she would faint.

“Hail Ainah,
sacred Mother. Hail the womb that bore the Eirini, the great people of the
mist. Praise her with love, for she is the one who gave you life. Bow at her
feet and give homage to the Mother of us all. Hail Ainah.”

Nearly all of
the village women, led by Niamh’s sister Enora, formed a circle and bowed low
to the ground, extending their hands in tribute. The men stood behind them but
did not bow; this was a rite of women honoring the Mother goddess. But the men
raised no objection, and stood in silent agreement with what their women did.

To her bitter
shame, Maelys saw her brother Dirk stand and look helplessly at the women. He
uttered not a word of protest, merely looked at her and shrugged his shoulders.
Brand stood next to him, confusion and alarm written all over his young face.

She looked for
the women of her own family: Judoc bowed her head as tears ran silently down
her cheeks. Melisande went to the circle of women, standing on the outer
perimeter. She did not join them, but stood behind their circle. Nolwenn
hesitated, and then took a place halfway between Judoc who remained in her
place at the edge of the green, and her sister-in-law.

This was too
much for Maelys, and she strode indignantly to her younger sister and dragged
Nolwenn back to stand with Judoc. Nolwenn protested feebly, but Maelys sensed
the bewilderment of the young girl, and contented herself with merely
reprimanding her softly and holding her arm firmly to prevent her from
re-joining Melisande.

Melisande had
not missed the byplay, and turned a look of such icy malevolence upon Maelys
that for a moment her heart stopped beating. The earth seemed to rise up to
meet her as she swayed on her feet. She took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. The beat of her heart resumed, and the earth descended to its rightful
place beneath her feet.

I swear if we
were alone she would kill me, Maelys thought. I shall be sure to give her no
such opportunity. But Dominio, help me: for I am sure that Melisande has
grasped Nolwenn in the clutch that once consumed Brenus. And I will not stand
by idly and tolerate it.

In the two
weeks just following the Summer Festival Maelys had reflected on this incident.
She knew that if her father or Cort had been present there would have been an
open protest at the behavior of Niamh and the complicity of the village women.
But Dirk was left as the man of the family and he had wavered, an evidence of
cowardice that caused Maelys to writhe in humiliation at his unmanly weakness.

She caught him
alone one evening after the family had eaten and chided him about it.

“A fine
example you have set for our brother Brand, Dirk,” she scolded him with a
bitterness she did not bother to conceal.

Dirk had set
out on his usual evening stroll and Maelys apprehended him.

“Do you
realize what Brand will think? He will assume it is alright to stand by and do
nothing when evil attempts to rise among us. You should have raised your voice,
you should have reprimanded Melisande and Nolwenn, you should have done
something!”

Dirk flinched
from the scorn and anger in his sister’s voice. He knew all too well that every
word she said to him was justified. Had their father been there, the villagers
would have been less defiant. Dag would have protested, and upbraided them.
They may not have listened, but he would have at least taken a stand for
righteousness. He knew in his heart that Cort would have done the same.

“Maelys,
please,” he begged with tears rising in his eyes, “there is nothing you can say
that I have not already said to myself. I know I should have protested, I know
I should have done something. But I was afraid to stand alone.”

Maelys peered
into her brother’s large brown eyes, so like their father’s. And she suddenly
felt a pang of longing for her father. One as bold as he was what was needed in
Eirinia. And now, before Niamh and Enora turned the hearts of the Eirini completely
back to their idolatry and the worship of old gods that had been cast down long
ago.

She knew that
had her father been there he would not have wished her to scold her brother,
and she felt ashamed of her angry words. She sighed, and linked her arm through
his, leaning her head against his shoulder in an attitude of such weary despair
that Dirk put an arm around her.

“It will be
alright, Maelys,” he comforted her. “I do not know how, but somehow by the
power and goodness of Dominio it will be alright.”

Now on this
morning following a sleepless night Maelys made a decision to take action. She
would leave Eirinia and attempt to find her father or Cort. Having resolved her
dilemma at last she turned back to the hut. She knew Judoc would have risen by now;
she was as early a riser as the birds, and as cheerful in their morning
serenades.

Quietly she
let herself in, closing the door softly behind her so as not to disturb Brand
and Nolwenn who slept a little later than the rest of the family. They were still
growing after all, as their mother said, and sleep was more necessary for them
than the rest of the family.

Judoc was
already in the kitchen preparing the simple morning meal of dark bread and
fruit, with porridge available for those who wished it. She looked up from her
ministrations and smiled warmly at Maelys. Her daughter returned the smile,
then impulsively kissed her mother’s cheek and ruffled the copper curls that
brushed against Judoc’s brow.

How pretty she
still is, Maelys thought. And how Father loves her so!

She had
frequently caught the glances Dag bestowed on Judoc when he thought he was
unobserved: a soft glow filled his eyes, and his lips curled up in a smile so
radiant that it transformed his rugged face into something almost divine.

When I marry,
Maelys mused, I hope my husband still looks at me that way after twenty years
of wedlock!

She quickly
turned her thoughts back from her hopes for her future to the dilemma of her
present.

“Good morning,
Mother,” she greeted Judoc.

Judoc patted her
cheek and continued to place bread on a plate.

“You were out
early this morning, daughter,” she replied. “Yet you look weary. Did you not
sleep well?”

“No, I did
not. My heart is heavy, and that is what I wish to discuss with you.”

Judoc’s face
assumed an aspect of concern, but she waited patiently for her daughter to
continue.

Maelys pulled
out a chair and motioned for her mother to be seated. Now Judoc knew for
certain that what her daughter was about to share would not be pleasant…

“Mother, I am
concerned that we have not heard from Father or Cort. They should have sent
some word by now; it is not like them to be silent.”

Judoc frowned,
and Maelys knew that similar thoughts had haunted her as well. The realization
of her mother’s anxiety gave her the courage to continue.

“I am going to
search for them,” she began.

When Judoc
protested at the audacity of this notion, Maelys held up a hand for silence.

“Mother,
please,” she entreated.

Judoc saw the
glint of tears in her eyes and relented.

“I know it is
not customary for a young woman to travel alone. Yet I must. Dirk can not come
with me for he is needed for the crops. Brand is needed also, and he is too
young to accompany me. I propose to disguise myself, and travel as a young man
in order to protect myself.”

In spite of
her concern for her daughter and worry for her husband and son, a burst of
laughter escaped Judoc’s lips. Maelys frowned at her, and waited for her mother
to stop, beating a rhythm with her fingers on the table top as she did so.

“I am sorry,
Maelys,” Judoc said as she wiped tears from her eyes. “But there is not a
chance that you can pass yourself off as a man.”

“Of course, I
can!” Maelys protested. “I am very tall, I can cut my hair, and I shall take
some of Cort’s old clothes to wear: we are about the same height, and I can
take them from his hut. If my robes are loose enough and I wear a cloak, none
will guess that I am a woman.”

Judoc smiled
fondly at her daughter and shook her head.

“You are far
too lovely,” she sighed. “Someone will see through your disguise at once.”

It was with
reluctance that Judoc let her go. She knew that Maelys was right: something had
to be done or the Eirini would be lost in return to their idolatry as they
sought out the old gods. And it was unlike Dag or Cort to send no word. She
hoped with a desperate yearning that no harm had come to them, but the longer
the silence continued the more uneasy she became.

Where was her
husband? Why had he not written to let her know he was safe? Was it because he
was in danger?