Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (13 page)

He finally
released her gently, and she drew slightly back from him, stroking his hair as
tears filled her eyes. Cort was unaware that he also had shed tears, until Siv
drew her finger down his face and tenderly wiped away the tear that coursed
down his cheek. Feeling unmanned, he pulled away from her to compose himself.

“I am sorry,
Siv,” he said huskily. “I never cry; I do not know what made me do so.”

“Hush, Cort,”
she whispered softly. “I know why you weep; for the same reason that I do.
Every night, ever since you left home as a boy, I prayed for your return. I
prayed that you would come back to me. And you have.”

“You did?” he
exclaimed. “Why did you do that? I left so long ago, more than twenty years
ago!”

“I know,” she
smiled. “But I always knew, even as a little girl that you were the one. I was heartbroken
when you ran away, and I never stopped hoping for your return. No, not even
when your father said you had come and gone with another man who adopted you. I
still hoped that one day you would come for me.”

Siv said this
with such a yearning in her voice that Cort found himself responding with a
longing of his own he hadn’t known was there. He saw now why he had taken no
wife in Eirinia, why no maiden had taken his heart. For his wife waited for him
in Trekur Lende.

He held up his
hand to hers and they entwined their fingers together. He then turned her hand
over and kissed the palm with gentleness as if adoring a sacred object. But
then, did not Dominio teach men to treat their wives with reverence and not
lustful passion?

Dominio.

“Siv,” Cort
said urgently. “You said you prayed for my return. To whom did you pray? Was it
to Bjorrne?”

Siv shook her
head.

“I prayed for
a long time to Bjorrne. And nothing happened. But ten years ago I traveled with
my father to the trading post just to leave the village for a while, and a man
was there who stayed at the inn with us. He spoke of Dominio and His Son
Alexandros. Father would not listen, but something in me cried out to hear more
and I met the man in secret before we left for home. He told me the Good News
and prayed with me, and although I have much to learn, it is Dominio to whom I
pray. And it was to Dominio that I prayed for you to come back to me.”

Cort’s body
relaxed and he let out a deep sigh of relief and exhilaration. So there would be
no impediment to his marriage, for Siv was a fellow believer. Had she not been
he could not have married her, but would have had to leave her here in Trekur
Lende.

Which brought
him to another thought.

“Siv,” he said
in some consternation, “I am only passing through Trekur Lende; I shall not be
staying here. And I do not know where I am going. I have recently left Eirinia
due to a rift with my brother, and have not determined where I shall settle. In
short, I have no home to offer you, and can not tell you where we may live.”

He feared that
such an admission would surely deter his new love from considering a life with
him, but Siv only smiled and shook her head at him slowly as if wondering at
his obtuseness.

“It does not
matter, Cort,” she assured him. “I have not waited twenty years for you to let
such a small thing stand in our way. Do you not know? It matters not to me
where we live or how we live. I am yours, and I will be forever yours.”

It was easier
than Cort expected to convince Stig and Lis of his desire to wed their
daughter. But he felt that before he could ask for her hand, he must be honest
and tell them who he really was. To his utter astonishment, Lis made an
announcement of her own.

“Stig, Lis,”
he began the next morning after they had broken their fast, “I have something
to tell you. I am afraid I did not tell you all that you needed to know
yesterday upon my arrival.”

“Ah, I already
know who you are, Cort Asbjorn,” Lis stated with a shrug of her shoulders. “And
I told Stig so last night after the household had gone to bed.”

Cort
sputtered.

“You knew! And
you did not betray me? How is that?”

“Well, did I
not see the way my daughter’s eyes grew so big when she saw you? Did you think
I did not know her childhood friends?”

She paused a
moment and glanced at Cort with an almost accusatory air.

“And, you also
have a look of your mother’s brother, Bent. I would have known you anywhere.”

Upon seeing
his open-mouthed stare, Lis relented and shot a smile down the table at him.

“And as your
mother and I grew up together, I will not give you away.”

Tears sprang
into his eyes and he flew up from the table to envelop Lis in an affectionate
hug. She returned it, then slapped his arm in teasing rebuke for the moment of
sentiment. Cort then remembered that in Trekur Lende no one betrayed their
emotions. He had forgotten, having spent so many years with the Eirini who
wasted no time in letting everyone know how they felt about anything.

“Then, have I
your permission to wed your daughter?” he asked Stig and Lis. “I do not know
where or how we shall live, but it will not be in Trekur Lende. However, I have
traveled much and have friends in different lands. We shall find a home; that I
promise you.”

Lis looked
wistfully at her daughter’s shining face and could not deny her the desire of
her heart. If she left Trekur Lende with Cort, it was probable they might never
meet again. She exchanged a look with Stig, who after all, would be the one to
make the final decision regarding their daughter’s fate.

Stig also looked
at the radiant Siv, then at his wife Lis with whom he seemed to share a secret
understanding.

“Yes,” he
nodded his head in a slow and deliberate manner. “You may wed Siv. For I can
see that she shall not rest until you do.”

Siv flew to
hug her parents and danced around the room in sheer elation. She grabbed Cort’s
hands and swung him around in a circle with her. Cort laughed from pure
happiness and danced around the room with her.

He could not
believe his good fortune. For having left Eirinia with a heavy heart, leaving
the only man he felt he could call family, Dominio had led him to the only
place that he could at last call home.

Felicia lifted
her face thankfully to the warming sun and let it bathe her in its caress. It
was only March, but here in Solone spring came earlier than in Valerium. How
good it was to be able to walk along the shore again, to hear the waves lapping
the shore, the gulls screeching in their flight, and to feel the refreshing
ocean breezes caress her cheek.

In Solone she
experienced a freedom that was lacking in Valerium, where she must always be
mindful that she was a young lady of the house of Maximus, and must perpetually
be on her dignity. There she had been under the watchful eye of Tullia and
admonished to walk at a slow and dignified pace in the marketplace, and dressed
in the garments of an aristocrat, that all might recognize her station by her
attire. Here she could gather up the hem of the coarser garments she had
acquired and run along the coast, or kick off her sandals and wade into the
shallows, luxuriating in the gentle warmth of the salt water lapping against
her ankles.

The letter
from her mother had arrived that morning. They had passed the winter in
Lycenium and been reunited with Lucius, Tullia said. For now they were content
to remain there and stay with her grandmother. But when summer came it would be
time for Felicia to come home and begin her year in Lycenium, her mother
reminded her. This being the case, she should expect her mother’s arrival in
July, when she would collect her and take her to Lycenium.

Felicia
groaned at the thought of going to Lycenium. She had promised her mother that
she would spend a year at Aunt Kyrene’s school in Solone, then journey to
Lycenium to begin a season in that city of culture and elegance. Yet, the year
in Solone had confirmed to Felicia what she had already known in her heart: she
belonged here, being mentored in her gift. She certainly did not belong in the
society that her mother and grandmother enjoyed so much. Felicia did not desire
an aristocratic marriage and could not picture herself as the mistress of a
great house.

As she
strolled along the beach she pondered on the difference between herself and her
brother Lucius. She often thought that he should have been the girl and she the
boy. For he savored the glories of the social calendar and spending his days
with the same dreary group of people going to the same dull events, both the
people and events Felicia found tedious and unbearable.

Truth to tell,
Lucius was more like her mother and she favored her father. On occasion she had
been able to wheedle out of Marcus tales of the adventures of his youth before
he and Mother wed. And what adventures he had had! In her heart she longed for
the same, to be swept away on the River of Life and to trust Dominio to deliver
her from one danger after another.

For surely
life was to be lived and not merely endured in the monotony of the future that
her mother planned for her, was it not? If a society marriage was all she had
to look forward to, what was the purpose of living?

That afternoon
after they had completed their classes for the day, Felicia joined her friend
Xanthe for a walk around the rocky basin surrounding Kyrene’s house. The acacia
trees were budding and birdsong filled the air once more. The two girls linked
arms companionably and chatted with the animation of confidantes who trust one
another without reservation.

“You have lost
some weight over the winter, my friend,” Xanthe remarked thoughtfully. “It will
not be long before your mother will be ready to present you to all of the
eligible young men of Lycenium!”

Felicia gave
her friend a rueful smile.

“How can you be
so cruel as to remind me! For I had a letter only this morning on that very
subject. How I dread the very prospect of falling in with my mother’s wishes. I
belong here; you know I do, Xanthe.

“As for losing
weight, I do not have the desire to gorge on food here in Solone as I did at
home. I do not know why this should be so, but there it is. Perhaps it is
because I feel calmer here, and accepted. At home I always felt that I was
being compared to my mother. She is so beautiful and poised, and I am clumsy
and awkward. I shall never look as she does.”

And Felicia
sighed wistfully, and shook back the lock that always fell onto her forehead,
ruining the perfect symmetry of her coiffure.

Xanthe laughed
and put an encouraging arm around Felicia.

“No one shall
ever look as your mother does, for she is indeed a great beauty. Few of us are
as blessed as she is. My cousin Kyrene said once that she was the most sought
after maiden in Lycenium and Valerium and how many can lay claim to a title
such as that one? No, most of us will be merely presentable and reasonably
attractive. Do not fret; it is the way life is.”

Felicia
chuckled and impulsively kissed Xanthe’s cheek in a sudden rush of affection.

“You are
right; I shall have to pray that Dominio sends me a man who will love me as I
am and not desire a paragon of perfection. For if he desires that he shall be
sorely disappointed!”

The two girls
laughed together and continued their promenade, pausing to admire the vista and
enjoy the return of spring.

Kyrene also
pondered Felicia’s fate, but not in the same sense that Tullia did. It was not
long after her arrival that she sensed in the young girl the potential for a
powerful prophet. But it was a calling that would require much sacrifice to
attain, and the future that her mother mapped out for her would not bring the
fulfillment of that promise.

Kyrene found the
daughter of her old friend Marcus a constant source of amusement and delight.
And she privately wondered how a woman like Tullia Maximus had ever borne such
a daughter, as unlike her as spring and autumn vary in the beauty of their
seasons. For Tullia reveled in the gaiety of banquets and dancing, and her
loveliness still retained the freshness of a spring blossom. But Felicia
favored the solitude of self to the company of others, and even as the woods
drop their leaves to reveal the stark beauty of the trees in their natural
form, so also did Felicia’s inner beauty radiate from within, occasionally
flashing out for all to see and gasp at the unexpected appeal. In such moments,
the young girl was breathtaking, but it was fleeting, and the next moment she
appeared ordinary and not particularly attractive.

It was true
that she had slimmed down since her arrival last summer. Kyrene had noted
during the first few days that Felicia had a tendency to eat two servings of
everything offered to her, yet did not seem to enjoy her food in the manner of
a glutton. She simply stuffed herself, and did not even appear to taste her
food. Kyrene frowned at her whenever she caught her taking a second portion,
and Felicia dropped her head and left the extra food on her plate untouched.

It was not
long before Felicia’s behavior changed completely. Kyrene emphasized a
lifestyle of regular fasting with prayer in order to subdue the cravings of the
flesh, and Felicia adapted quickly to her new regimen. One of the benefits of
fasting was an increased ability to hear from the Spirit with accuracy, and
once she discovered this Felicia adhered to a schedule of two fast days a week
in which she took no food at all. Kyrene did not know if the discipline of
fasting helped to subdue Felicia’s appetite in general, or if the absence of
her mother and the constant comparison to her removed the pressure from her
that compelled her to eat more than was necessary.

Felicia
eventually began to overcome her tendency for clumsiness as well. In her first
few weeks at the school, it became a joke among the students that Felicia’s
arrival into a room was usually accompanied by the sound of things breaking or
falling over. She was invariably late and rushed to arrive where she was
supposed to be, and small objects had a tendency to get knocked over or broken
as a result. Such was the fate of one of Kyrene’s favorite vases, a gift that
had been handed down from her grandmother to her mother, and from her mother to
herself.

On Felicia’s
first day of class, the other girls had already assembled and waited with
eagerness to greet the new student. Kyrene had stressed to Felicia the night
before the time of the first class, and she now waited with her arms folded in
front of her, tapping her foot. This would not do, she thought. The other
pupils were from humbler families and she could not permit Felicia to take
liberties that would be frowned on as the prerogative of a rich man’s daughter.

They heard the
sound of rustling and thumping in the hallway over their heads, and then the
sound of something breaking. A rueful Felicia soon presented herself before
them, holding out some fragments of pottery in her hand.

“Oh, I am
so
sorry I am late!” she exclaimed. “And I am even sorrier about this vase. I
tripped on my robe as I ran down the hall and I brushed against this on the
table and knocked it over.”

She held out
the fragments of blue to Kyrene, who recognized it with a sinking heart. It
might turn out to be a longer year than she anticipated, she thought wryly.

But to the
young girl she said nothing of the vase’s history.

“It is
alright, my dear,” she soothed Felicia. “It was old anyway.”

Now Kyrene
thought of the progress that Felicia had made over the last months. She not
only could prophesy now at any given moment, she had dreams and visions that
she could interpret with a high degree of accuracy. And they frequently came to
pass, and were not merely symbolic. The mark of the seer, Kyrene noted, those
who could see into the future and not merely prophesy a word of encouragement
for the present. She had the gift herself and was quick to recognize it in
others.

It was a gift
that was absolutely essential to the Alexandrians, especially in times such as
these with the persecution in Valerium and the uncertainty of their future. But
to excel in such a gift required much solitude and discipline in order to
develop a deeper relationship with Dominio than the average believer enjoyed.
For only in solitude and meditation could one wait upon Him to speak.

And how could
such a gift develop in the social whirl of Lycenium, where Felicia’s mother
wanted her to have a season before settling down to the life of an aristocrat?