Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (70 page)

The people of
Valerium spent most days looking over their shoulders, alert for any sign of
danger from the Imperial Palace. Ever since the escape of the miracle man and
his entire family the Emperor had been incensed. He did not take kindly to
having his hospitality thrown back in his face, and he did not like being
without his miracle man. What should happen now if he needed a miracle, and
this wild man from Eirinia was not there to perform it?

Some said that
the Emperor was mad, others that he was a victim of superstition who had fallen
prey to a charlatan who then crept out in the dead of night, and now the
Emperor would force all of the Valeriun Empire to bow to a God that not
everyone believed in. Why, everyone knew that his own Minister of State did not
worship this Dominio, and yet
he
was permitted to live: why not others?
Why must they die a horrible death and be branded heretics if they simply could
not believe?

All of
Potentus was agog when the news of Dag Adalbart’s escape from his gilded cage
was discovered and told in every street of the city. Opinions were varied and
many as to why the man had taken off with his family, and how it was carried
off in full view of the Palace Guards, everyone of whom had fallen sound asleep
on duty, something that had never happened in the long history of the Empire.
Perhaps the man was a miracle worker after all and had cast the entire Guard
into a deep sleep!

Those who
heard the news and had friends or family who served in the Guard waited with
anxious hearts to hear the news of their fate. For it was inconceivable that
the Emperor would permit the escape of his miracle man without someone taking
the blame for it. The Guards themselves attempted to do their duty as usual,
yet knew they would not get off lightly for what would be deemed a dereliction
of duty.

He made them
wait. As a spider leaves the fly hanging an indefinite time in the web before
finally devouring it, so too did Iacomus torment the Guards. He spoke to none
of them when they attended him, and indeed, signaled to his personal attendants
to take care of his requirements, all the time leaving the Guards to feel
ignored as those who simply did not exist.

At last the
decision came on a day in early May, three weeks after the miracle man’s
escape. Every one of them, Iacomus decreed, every one of the Palace Guards were
to be executed, taken to the courtyard of the Imperial Palace, and have archers
shoot them with arrows until they were dead.

Decimus had
just returned from Lycenium when the news was announced. He had paid only a
brief visit to Antonius and Felicia, but must return to his post as quickly as
possible. When the news was given to him of the Emperor’s decision he was as
stunned as any of the ordinary citizens of Potentus.

He hastened to
the Emperor’s ante-room and requested an audience with him. To his
astonishment, he was informed that the Emperor was occupied and he would have
to wait; he was advised to return the following day. For Decimus Hadrianus, who
had grown up with Iacomus and was considered his closest friend, this treatment
was a great shock.

He left the
ante-room with the smirk of his usual bravado in place, but hurried to his own
apartment in the Palace, where Paulina greeted him languidly. She was tired
from the voyage and had attempted to rest a few hours, but something in the
atmosphere disturbed her. She greeted her husband with a face that was pale and
festooned with bags under her eyes that bore testament to her weariness and
sense of unease.

“Decimus,” she
said hesitantly, always fearful of rousing his temper, “something strange is
going on since we were last in Potentus. I rang for my attendants and they kept
me waiting, actually waiting! for my bedcovers to be turned down so that I
could catch a few hours of sleep. I am not accustomed to being treated in such
a cavalier manner; what ails them, Decimus?”

On any other
occasion Decimus might have found solace in merely rolling his eyes at his
wife’s insipidity, but having just been in essence rebuffed by the Emperor, he
took this incident as a disturbing indicator of a deeper danger, from he knew
not where. That Paulina should be treated so was the more troubling in view of
the fact that it was widely known that she was the Emperor’s cousin…

“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?”

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.”