Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (75 page)

The entire
Adalbart family erupted in rejoicing at the news. Even Dirk, who had watched
Lucius questioningly, was pleased at the betrothal. He could not resist teasing
his brother-in-law to be, however, on the choice of his profession.

“It is
relieved I am to have another hand to help with the work,” he said with mock
solemnity. “And even more relieved that it should be you, Lucius. What a help
you will be with the plowing, your lines are almost straight now, and there are
times when the oxen let you go ahead as they have finally found out who is
master…”

He continued
on in this vein, his words drowned out by hoots of laughter from the family.
Even Lucius laughed, as happy tears streamed unheeded down his face. Later he
would wonder at himself, a man of the Valeriun Empire, weeping unashamedly
before others. But later he would also realize how long his protracted stay in
Eirinia among those who expressed themselves freely had changed him.

Judoc alone
had an air of caution and a concerned frown furrowed her forehead.

“And what of
your parents, Lucius? Will they really be pleased at their only son, the heir
to the Maximus estate, living in Eirinia to farm? Do you really think they will
accept this?”

Lucius was
taken aback. He had not thought about it, and as his family had been exiled in
Lycenium for more than three years it was not a matter that was of immediate
concern. But now he had to face the question.

“I can
appreciate your concern,” he said, “but in truth, my family is in exile in
Lycenium and in view of the Emperor’s stance I do not see a return to Valerium
for some time. At the moment, there is no Maximus estate to attend to. And my
father has many years ahead of him yet. By the time he passes on, Dirk’s sons
will be grown and can help with the farm if the need should arise for Maelys
and me to return to Valerium.”

“But what of
your parents, Lucius? Will they approve of the match?” Judoc persisted. “Or is
this a wild dream of yours that will dissolve as soon as your parents forbid
it?”

Lucius glanced
at Maelys, who appeared stunned by her mother’s questioning. Dag said nothing,
but his sober air finally penetrated Lucius’ happy dreams.

“I do not see
my father forbidding the match,” he said with dignity. “As for my mother, she
will need to accept it, for I will not be moved.”

Maelys smiled
beams of relief, and his heart leaped in joy. No, he would not permit any
parental protest to keep them apart!

Judoc
considered him, and looked from him to her daughter.

“Very well, then,”
she said with a satisfied air. “You have my blessing.”

Kyrene felt
the need to speak to Melisande once more before she left Eirinia. She had seen
the young woman come forward to repent at Summer Festival, yet she kept herself
apart from the Adalbarts and there had been no occasion to talk with her
regarding her actions.

She knocked on
the door of Melisande’s hut a few days before she departed and was greeted
warmly by the young woman. When she entered she saw little Gwenaelle playing on
the floor with a wooden doll. The child rose when she saw Kyrene and limped
over to greet her. As she picked up the little girl she felt a flood of
compassion sweep through her; poor fatherless little child, with a mother that
no one really liked!

She placed Gwenaelle
on her lap as she sat before the fire with Melisande. Gwenaelle clutched at
Kyrene’s fingers and attempted to count them.

“One, three,
four, seven,” she prattled.

Kyrene laughed
and Melisande joined in. But Gwenaelle persisted to the combined amusement of
the two women. Kyrene tousled the child’s curls and kissed her cheek.

“She is
precocious, this one,” she said as she studied her.

Melisande
smiled wryly before answering.

“In all ways
but one,” she said. “Gwenaelle can not walk without limping. It worries me at
times because…”

She broke off
suddenly and turned her face away slightly. Kyrene caught the note of anxiety
in her voice and hastened to comfort her.

“Because of
what?” she asked gently. “There is nothing to worry about in a limp. It is unfortunate,
but not fatal.”

“Yes, I know,
but,” Melisande paused and took a deep breath.

She waited for
a moment and swallowed hard before she continued.

“It’s just
that, that, Yuna cursed me when I was carrying Gwenaelle and I am afraid,
afraid, that she’s…cursed. And the limp is the visible sign of something
worse.”

Kyrene
understood then the root of the anxiety.

“You are
afraid she is cursed by God, is that what you mean?”

Melisande did
not reply, but nodded her head vehemently.

Kyrene
pondered the question for a moment, and silently prayed. As she did so, words
came to her, words that she hastened to speak to the troubled young woman so
worried about her child.

“I do not
believe she is cursed,” Kyrene stated firmly. “For what has she done that she
should be cursed? Why, she is but a child, an innocent child! But, I do believe
it is possible that the limp is there to bring such questions to your mind,
that you might seek Dominio for the answer. Have you been doing that,
Melisande?”

Melisande shot
a curious look at Kyrene and shook her head.

“No, I have
not been seeking Dominio,” she replied. “Indeed, I do not believe in any
deity.”

“Oh, but you
came forward last week at Summer Festival when everyone repented, and I thought
perhaps you were turning to Him.”

“No; I
repented of leading others astray, as I did Nolwenn. I was afraid, and more
afraid when I saw the power that came through Dag. What a man he is, Kyrene! I
know now why my mother loved him more than she did my father, for I see what it
is she saw in him. He is truly a man among men. But I have not been seeking
Dominio; I should need proof that He even exists before I could do that.”

Kyrene felt
restraint within her: she sensed that to proceed would only result in turning
Melisande away from Dominio completely.

In your time,
Lord, she prayed silently, in your time.

On the evening
before she departed, Kyrene chanced to meet Melisande one last time as she
strolled on the green. They smiled and walked together, watching Gwenaelle run
off to play with a couple of little girls who played nearby.

Kyrene decided
she could not leave without giving an urgent warning to Melisande. She might
not thank her for it, but she could not live with herself if she did not issue
it.

“Melisande,”
she said as she turned to face the young woman, “I must say something to you
before I leave tomorrow. Your life is ahead of you, and you shall have a long
life, but whether it is happy is entirely dependent upon you and the choices
you make.

“You may
either continue to harbor your bitterness toward Dag and never know any joy in
this world, or you can forgive him for what you perceive to be a grievance
against your mother and find happiness along the way. You can either return to
Gaudereaux and live with your grandparents and perhaps inherit all that they
have, but be consumed by your bitterness if you do not forgive. Or you can
continue to live here to spite Dag and continually remind him and Judoc of the
pain you have brought on their children.

“The choices
are yours, but I warn you: there is no easy road ahead of you, for your
decision to forgive or not to forgive will decide your fate.”

She stared at
Melisande, who dropped her eyes and looked distinctly uncomfortable. She looked
at the ground, over her shoulder at her daughter, at the sun about to set,
everywhere but at Kyrene.

“Do you
understand this?” Kyrene asked.

But Melisande
only flushed and did not answer.

Kyrene was
sent off with Lucius the following day, with tears and kisses and wishes for a
safe journey.

“How good it
was to spend time with all of you, and I shall miss you so!” she cried as she
wiped tears away from her overflowing eyes.

She was met
with a river of them in the eyes of Dirk, Maelys, and Judoc. Even Dag struggled
to hide his, but embraced his old friend warmly.

“Yah, like the
old days it was, when we had adventures!” he agreed, and placed his large hands
on her slender shoulders and laughed in fond remembrance.

She joined his
laughter and then began to weep again.

“Yes, like the
old days,” she agreed. “But remember one thing, my dear friend: no matter how
long the passage of time or how great the distance between us, we will always
be family because of the blood that binds our hearts together.”

The summer was
passing rapidly in Lycenium. Already the August days were cooling, and the days
visibly shorter than a month ago. And as summer was about to pass into autumn,
Justus Lucius reflected over the days he and Silvia had been forced to spend in
Lycenium.

To say that
his wife had been deeply upset when she came face to face with their son’s
murderer did not even begin to describe the sense of shock, pain, and
remembered horror of that long ago day when her only child lay dying in her arms.
For years she could not even think of that day without trembling and
uncontrolled weeping taking over her usually calm disposition. She had
recovered only after much discipline of spirit, giving thanks to whatever deity
had given her Felix, grateful for the years she had been blessed with him, and
choosing to never look back on the day he had been so brutally taken from her.
And from there she had slowly picked up the thread of her life and gone on.

It had been
too cruel a shock when they learned that the daughter of Felix’s closest friend
had actually married the son of his murderer. But even then they never
anticipated seeing Decimus Hadrianus again. Justus still marveled that the man
had been instrumental in releasing him from his prison in Valerium, and
surmised that Felicia had prompted it.

But to see him
so unexpectedly that even Decimus was stunned had been Silvia’s undoing. She
wept long afterward, even when Justus reminded her that Decimus had, in a way,
asked forgiveness of her when he stated that he was sorry. Nothing could stem
the flow of her tears, and at last Justus went to visit Marcus Maximus to
enlist his aid.

And so on this
day of late summer he found himself in the garden of Drusilla’s estate pacing
through the rose beds with his son’s old friend.

“I am at my
wit’s end, Marcus,” he declared in a voice agitated with concern and
frustration. “She simply can not stop weeping since we saw Decimus last night,
so great is her agitation and so vivid the memories of that day.”

Marcus pondered
on this statement; in truth he was deeply shocked by the account that Justus
related to him of that evening with Felicia and Antonius, and what amounted to
an apology on the part of Decimus. How unlike him that was, Marcus thought.
Could it be that fatherhood and his love for his own son had finally brought
home to him what he had robbed Silvia of with one careless thrust of a knife?

“I wish I
could help you, Justus,” Marcus stated. “But in truth, I am sometimes puzzled
by Decimus’ behavior myself. I had expected him to wish to dissolve the
marriage between our children, even as Tullia and I have, but he declared
exactly the opposite, and even reminded me that Felicia’s reputation would
suffer harm if they divorced. And you know just how true a statement that is;
blame is always laid on the woman, even if she is innocent.”

Justus shook
his head in bewilderment as he listened to Marcus. It was only too true that
last statement; and how peculiar that Decimus would care about the reputation
of the daughter of his old enemy!

“I have
puzzled over many things this past year, my old friend,” Marcus stated as they
continued their stroll.

He paused
beside a small pond where a lone duck had landed to take a late morning swim.
The duck cocked its head at them as if listening, and then proceeded with its
dive.

“And one of
them is why on earth I am continually forced to put up with the company of
Decimus Hadrianus. I was rid of the man for years, but it was his son who has
been the catalyst that keeps the man intruding in my life, first through his
friendship with my son, and then his marriage to my daughter. And I can not
understand it except to consider the words of an old friend of mine: Dominio
simply will not permit me to go on hating my enemy.

“Instead, I
must learn to bless him and pray for him. And I will admit that it has been the
most difficult trial of my life. Indeed, I would rather face the Empress Aurora
again and live in fear for my life than to be forced to tolerate the company of
a man I loathe so much. But as Kyrene reminded me, Dominio loves all men, we
have all sinned, and I must repent and show him the same mercy that was shown
to me.”

Justus was
thoughtful as he listened to Marcus, and it was evident that his words
penetrated deeply. And yet, he had questions that were still unanswered and put
them before his friend.

“Do you mean
then that in Dominio’s eyes all sin is equal? That in His eyes a murder is no
greater than a lie, or a theft? That would upset the entire justice system,
would it not? For a thief will spend many months in the dungeon until his crime
is expiated, but a man will hang for a murder. How can it be that this God of
yours views sin differently than we do those who sin against society?”

“It mystifies
me also at times, Justus. But, you see, Dominio is holy; He is pure and without
sin. And so to Him, all sin is the same, and a thief and a murderer are equally
guilty because each as trespassed His law. There is no lesser penalty for
either because both have sinned and fallen short of His glory.”

Justus passed
a hand through his short crop of graying hair and wrinkled his nose in
concentration.

“So, what you
are telling me, Marcus, is that a murderer is equal to a thief, and a thief is
equal to a murderer. Neither is worse than the other, and neither is more
blameless than the other in the eyes of your God.”

“Yes, that is
right,” Marcus said slowly as comprehension dawned on him. “Yes, that is right.
And a man must be judged by the laws of society and so may lose his life
according to the laws of that society, but a man may be judged by the laws of
the Kingdom and so receive mercy if he truly repents.”

Marcus froze
where he stood and gazed out at the lake where the duck still swam in solitude.
How ironic, he mused. Decimus was able to evade the laws of justice in Lycenium
because of who his father was, the Governor, and were he to repent and ask
forgiveness of Dominio, the King, he would “duck” so to speak, the law of
eternal justice and so be washed as clean of his sin as that duck is cleansed
of filth when it dives into the water.

Marcus was
struck by a new revelation: he had once had to forgive Felix for betraying him
in a moment of weakness to the Empress Aurora, an event that led to his
captivity and the imprisonment and death of his parents. It had been the
hardest thing he had ever had to do, forgive a friend for treachery, yet he had
done it. Now a new thought flooded his understanding; what difference was there
between forgiving a friend for inadvertently causing him pain and suffering,
and forgiving an enemy for accidentally killing that same friend?
Was
there any difference?

And even
though he had already asked forgiveness of Decimus for the threat of death he
had made against him, for the first time he realized that he was wrong and
Kyrene was right.