Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (42 page)

Nolwenn had
avoided Yuna since the day she had erupted in rage and cursed Melisande and the
child she carried. The old woman made her vaguely uncomfortable with her bright
black eyes that shone with the malice of a bird’s waiting to gobble up a
hapless worm. They were eyes that were far-seeing also, missing nothing of any
importance that might prove of value to their owner.

Of the family,
Nolwenn was the only member who showed any concern for Melisande apart from the
baby she would bear. She knew that her mother did not really like her
daughter-in-law, and was kind to her merely for the sake of her dead son whose
child she bore. As for Maelys, she had never attempted to hide her hostility
toward Melisande, and Nolwenn felt a necessity to protect Melisande from it,
not hesitating to lock horns with her own sister if need be.

She thought of
the occasion shortly after their father left for Valerium when Maelys stood in
the door of their hut, watching Nolwenn leaving Melisande’s. With irritation
oozing from every pore of her body, her older sister stood with a hand on her
hip and her chin cocked in that gesture of impatience that Nolwenn knew far too
well.

“Why do you
keep visiting that vixen?” Maelys upbraided her before Nolwenn had even entered
their hut. “She’s naught but trouble, that one is, and I would think you would
know it after what she has done to this family!”

Nolwenn sighed
and returned the sullen look her older sister cast upon her. She secretly
resented the way that Maelys continued to treat her like a child, even though
she would soon be old enough for the young men to court. And Maelys had always
acted like a second mother to her, scolding her in the manner that Judoc would,
and even if Judoc had already done so. Nolwenn decided it was time for Maelys
to learn that she could no longer be pushed around.

“I like her,”
she said defiantly. “And you have just been jealous of her since the day Brenus
married her. That is why you persist in finding fault with her for everything
she does.”

“Oh, is that
what she tells you?” Maelys snickered. “Jealous am I? Of what, may I ask? A
woman who told our brother nothing but lies about herself, and drove another
brother out of the family for months with her constant torment and false
accusations?”

Nolwenn turned
her back on her to leave but Maelys grabbed her arm.

“Oh no, you
don’t,” she huffed as she swung her sister around to face her. “It’s time you
knew the truth about your dear Melisande, for a greater liar and troublemaker I
never saw!”

Just then
Judoc entered the room with her hands full of vegetables she had picked from
the garden for the evening meal. She took one look at her older daughter’s face
and knew trouble was afoot.

“Stop it,
Maelys!” she exclaimed. “Let go of your sister; let go of her, I tell you!”

Maelys
reluctantly dropped Nolwenn’s arm. Nolwenn rubbed it as she glared at her
sister: already there was a red mark where Maelys had gripped it so tightly.
The girls exchanged one more look of fury before Maelys stomped out of the hut
and left her mother to console her sister and tend to her arm.

On this
particular day, Nolwenn had let herself out of the hut to fetch water from the
spring. It was a task that she enjoyed, and even took on voluntarily, offering
to spare her mother the chore. She delighted in the fresh morning air and the
sound of the larks that accompanied her as she wandered from the village to the
spring that lay nearby on the edge of the woods.

The bank was
low, and she had no difficulty scrambling down over the rocks to the water’s
edge. She dipped her bucket in the stream and closed her eyes as the sound of
the water running over the rocks of its bed soothed her. The trees nearest the
stream were covered with moss, and she loved the deep velvety green that looked
like the robe of a fine lady draping the gray-green bark with a touch of
luxury.

So engrossed
was she in the sound of the stream that she did not hear the approach of
footsteps. A shadow on the clear water startled her, and looking up, she found
herself face to face with Yuna, who had come to the stream for the same
purpose. Nolwenn wondered if she could make an excuse and leave, but Yuna was
too quick for her.

“Good day,”
she cackled in her thin old voice. “I see we are bound on similar errand. How
fares your family?”

Nolwenn felt
her face flush nervously; how she wished she had some of Maelys’ poise! Her
sister was never at a loss for words, and Nolwenn envied her the ability to
remain composed even when she was angry. But there was nothing she could do but
return Yuna’s greeting.

“Yes, it is a
good day; and a lovely one it will be too. Well, I must be off, I only came to
fetch water and I’ve enough. Good day to you, Yuna.”

Nolwenn turned
to leave but Yuna stopped her.

“Wait a
moment, just a moment, miss,” the old voice commanded. “I wish for news of your
father. I heard he left the village for a while. Why is that?”

Nolwenn was
uncertain how to reply. She really did not know why her father had left: she
had been told it was to visit his old friend Marcus Maximus, but Marcus had
just paid them a visit so the explanation made no sense to her. Still, it
seemed a reasonable excuse to give Yuna.

“I am told he
left to visit an old friend,” she answered in a voice that quivered slightly.
“I do not think he will be gone long.”

She gathered
up her bucket and attempted to leave once more.

“Rather an odd
time to visit an old friend wouldn’t you say, with a grandchild to be born so
soon? Does he not want to be present for the birth?”

And Yuna
narrowed her eyes as she stared at Nolwenn, alert for any cracks in the girl’s
veneer. She pressed on with her line of questioning.

“Tell me what
happened with the healing potion I gave you, Nolwenn,” she said in a voice that
demanded obedience. “I have heard some strange tales. Some have said that I
gave you the wrong potion, that it was poisonous and nearly killed your father.
Bad for business that is, and my herbs and potions are my bread and butter so
I’ll not brook such talk. I gave you a healing potion but he nearly died. Why
is that?”

Nolwenn turned
pale and tears filled her eyes. She tried to answer Yuna, but the words died in
her throat. She shook her head and silently implored the old woman to stop.

“I do not
know,” she finally whispered. “I do not know.”

Yuna snorted.

“It was that
sister-in-law of yours, I’ll be bound. She is no good, Nolwenn. Do you hear me?
No good at all. I know in my bones that she tampered with that potion. Didn’t
she now?”

Nolwenn could
no longer bear to listen to the old woman giving voice to the suspicions she
herself refused to entertain. She grabbed her bucket and turned from Yuna,
flinging defiant words over her shoulder.

“She did
nothing of the kind, you wicked old woman. Leave me alone!”

Nolwenn
decided to pay Melisande a visit to check on her and the unborn child. She was
admitted into the hut and Melisande kissed her warmly on the cheek. They spent
some time talking of the coming baby. The child was not due until November, but
Melisande was already making small garments to be ready on the arrival. She
showed Nolwenn the tiny clothes and they marveled at the miracle to come.

Without
warning a shadow crossed Melisande’s face. She gave her sister-in-law a
measuring look, and then surprised her with her next words.

“Nolwenn,” she
said softly, “if anything should happen to me during the birth, please promise
that you will look after my child.”

Nolwenn felt
the air leave her lungs abruptly, and for a moment she could not breathe. What
a strange thing to ask of her!

“Whatever do
you mean, Melisande? You will be fine, women have babies all of the time! Do
not even think such a thing!”

Melisande
smiled at her, but was not deterred.

“There are
occasions when things go wrong, Nolwenn. And I do not want my child to be left
alone. Please promise me that you will take care of it. I wish it to be raised
by one who will love it, and that someone is you.”

The look of
entreaty in Melisande’s eyes was almost unbearable. Nolwenn realized that she
was right: many women did die in childbirth, and she must assure her that her
child would be loved and cared for.

“Alright,
Melisande,” she whispered soothingly. “I shall take care of the child if
anything goes wrong.”

Melisande
sighed and closed her eyes briefly.

“Thank you,
dear. It is a relief to know you will love my child if I am not there to give
it a mother’s love. And, I have a gift for you.”

She stood up
abruptly and moved to the back room of the hut. Nolwenn wondered what the gift
might be, but did not have to wait very long to find out. Melisande returned to
her chair and held out a pendant to her sister-in-law.

“Take this,”
she said. “I have had it made especially for you.”

Nolwenn beheld
a silver chain and from it dangled a small amulet of some dark clear stone,
capped with a silver link that connected it to the chain. The stone itself was
unadorned and hung freely from the chain.

“Oh, how
lovely,” Nolwenn breathed.

She stretched
her hand out to take it, but Melisande drew it back quickly and smiled.

“Allow me to
explain first, Nolwenn. The amulet is very powerful. When you have need, just
hold it in your hand and the stone will clear. When it does, it shall show you
the future, and the answer to any question you put to it.

“See? Like
this?”

Melisande put
Nolwenn’s hand on the amulet. The girl cradled it in her grasp, and decided to
ask it a question.

“Where is my
brother, Cort?”

As she stared
into it, the cloudy depths cleared and Nolwenn saw a picture forming. She saw a
ship, and on the deck of the ship she saw her brother and his wife Siv. She
gasped excitedly and showed the picture to Melisande.

Melisande also
gasped but not with delight. Her lips tightened suddenly and she clutched the
pendant so hard that she cried out in pain. When she opened her hand, Nolwenn
saw the deep impression the stone had left in her palm. Melisande quickly
recovered herself and smiled reassuringly at the young girl.

“Take it,
Nolwenn. But let us keep it as our little secret, shall we? I am afraid that if
Maelys knew of its existence it would only make her jealous at the favor I have
shown you. And you know what her temper can be like, don’t you? The last thing
I would desire would be for her to harm you in any way, as she did the time she
hurt your arm.”

Marcus
persuaded Tullia with some difficulty to keep the news of their daughter’s
marriage quiet until they could speak to Decimus and Paulina. The marriage was
known only to himself and Felicia and Antonius, he explained, and he did not
wish Lucius to know before the groom’s parents discovered it. She had
protested, wishing to confront Felicia at once and take steps to dissolve the
marriage completely.

“I can not
bear it, Marcus,” she wailed. “Had Felicia planned it, she could not have found
a more painful way to punish me for taking her from Solone before the promised
year was up.”

Marcus
reflected on this statement, and thought ruefully how true that was. Was this
marriage a punishment to Tullia for breaking her promise to allow her daughter
to be fully trained as a prophet of Dominio? Or would it prove to be an
unexpected blessing, when taken into account how committed Antonius was to
Alexandros and spreading His Kingdom?

He had yet to
decide how to punish Lucius for the loss of Logos. How careless indeed the
young man had been; taking the Sword from its hiding place to casually show it
to his best friend, and treating it as a toy for their amusement! Would Lucius
ever grow up and mature into the man that Dominio desired him to be? There were
times when Marcus despaired of it, and wondered if life had been too easy for
Lucius, too smoothly paved by the ease and comfort that was the lot of a rich
man’s son.

What to do
about his behavior concerned Marcus greatly, and he felt that as his father he
should discipline him severely. Yet the solution eluded him. How did one
chastise another for the loss of a sacred object? Lucius was no longer a small
boy who could be sent to bed without any supper or forbidden to indulge in
playtime with his friends.

And Tullia,
who had been infuriated with her son over his actions, was now too distraught
with the news of her daughter’s marriage to offer any insight or suggestions.
When Marcus consulted Dominio in prayer, there was only silence. What did that
mean? Was Marcus to show leniency to Lucius? Or was the fact that Logos was now
in the hands of evil men punishment enough?

He noted the
strain between mother and daughter when the family gathered for meals. Felicia
was blissfully unaware of the pain her marriage inflicted on her mother, but
Tullia seemed distraught, and the necessity of making conversation a burden she
would just as soon have been free of. Her daughter was oblivious to her mother’s
torment, but noticed the effort it took Tullia to address her with even the
most commonplace pleasantry.

One day after
the noon meal she took her father aside and asked to speak to him alone. They
adjourned to the garden, where cooling breezes brought relief from the heat of
the day. As they sauntered through the grounds Marcus noticed the birds singing
their songs as easily as if they had not a care in the world. And he suddenly
knew that he must trust the outcome of all that had happened to Dominio and His
providence: his daughter’s marriage, his son losing Logos, the pain his wife
suffered in silence. All was known to Dominio and He would work all things out
for the good…

“Father,”
Felicia began hesitantly, glancing at Marcus to gauge his response to what she
was about to say, “what is wrong with Mother? I thought she would be angry with
me for running away, but she has not said a word about it. Yet she seems
troubled in her mind in some way, distressed about something. Do you know what
it is?”

And Felicia
cast a look of such anxiety on her father that his heart melted within him. How
wrong Tullia was to think that her daughter wished to punish her for her broken
promise! If only these two he loved so dearly could each understand the heart
of the other.

“All will be
well, Felicia,” he soothed as he patted her arm. “Your mother has been through
an ordeal as a result of her travels, and I do not believe she has fully
recovered from it. Give her some time and be patient.”

Felicia sighed
and shook her head of black curls slightly. The forelock fell on her brow even
as her father’s had in his youth, and for a moment Marcus forgot his own
troubles and was amused at how like him this child was. And in some ways, she
reminded him of his own father, Valerius, the fearless Commander of the
Imperial Army. In spite of all that had happened in recent months, he was
grateful yet again for the gift of his family.

Marcus put an
arm around her shoulder, and she put her head on his in the trusting gesture
she had demonstrated ever since she was a little girl. He kissed the top of her
head and they continued their walk through the garden, now fragrant in the full
bloom of summer, silently as only two souls who know each other utterly can
communicate without the bother of exchanging a word.

A week later
Marcus had an unexpected visitor.

Otho came to
the library early in the morning after the family had broken their fast and
announced to Marcus that Decimus Hadrianus awaited him in the atrium. Marcus,
who thought him to still be in Valerium, was surprised both at the announcement
of his presence and further still that Decimus wished to see him, as he knew
that Decimus despised him every bit as much as Marcus loathed him. He
reluctantly followed Otho to the atrium, where the butler then left them alone.

He did not
know what he expected, but it was not the man who stood waiting for him.
Decimus, he observed at once, looked uncomfortable and glanced at Marcus
uncertainly, then looked away at the floor.

“Yes?” Marcus
said, not willing to have any conversation with this man at all, and therefore
felt no need to make it easier for his old foe.

Decimus opened
his mouth to speak, and then clamped it shut, as though completely at a loss
for words. Marcus waited: so absolute was the silence that he heard the sound
of voices in the garden where his children were spending the fine morning.

Decimus made
another attempt.

“Maximus,” he
said briefly as he inclined his head.

He shot a look
of inquiry at Marcus, who in spite of his animosity, was becoming intrigued by
his enemy’s peculiar behavior.

“State your
business, Decimus,” he said in a voice that was harsh and invited no friendly
repartee.

Decimus
cleared his throat and proceeded to plunge into the matter at hand without
further preamble.

“My son has
married your daughter,” he barked. “Are you aware of that?”

He now stared
openly at Marcus, who exhaled slowly and sat down in the nearest chair. He
signaled for Decimus to be seated, and the other man sat down abruptly, never
taking his eyes off of Marcus.

“Yes, I do
know,” Marcus stated. “When did you discover it?”

“Yesterday,”
Decimus answered. “I returned home to collect my family and take them to
Valerium. No doubt by now you have heard the news of the Emperor’s passing, and
that I am to be the new Minister of State.”

And Decimus
paused briefly to preen himself and gloat at his old rival. Marcus remembered
how proud Decimus had always been, and how he had perpetually taunted him on
his homeless state when the Empress Aurora had imprisoned his father and
confiscated the estate. He waited now for Decimus to bait him.

To his
surprise, Decimus did not do so. Marcus now gave him his full attention.

“And?” he
said, indicating that Decimus should continue.

“And Antonius
informed me that he could not accompany his mother and me to Valerium because
he had just taken a wife and his home would be with her in Lycenium. Naturally
I was astounded, but when he told me
who
he had married…”

Here Decimus
broke off and shook his head as though bewildered at the strange turn of
events. He did not pause long to meditate, but turned back to Marcus.

“How long have
you known?” he asked abruptly.

“About a
month,” Marcus replied. “Felicia first told me when I suspected something was
afoot: they seemed to know each other too well when they were introduced in my
presence. Felicia then confessed that they met and married at a time when
Tullia and Lucius and I were absent. And Antonius confessed it to me when I
took him with me to search for Tullia and Lucius. So secretive were they in
their meetings that Felicia’s own grandmother was unaware that they had even
met, let alone carried on a secret courtship.”

Decimus
listened to Marcus with careful attention, and then broke in.

“Why did you
say nothing to Paulina?” he inquired, in a tone of voice so unlike his usual
belligerent one that Marcus could estimate the depth of his shock at the news.

“We thought
you were still in Valerium and waited for you to return,” he answered. “We have
kept Antonius and Felicia apart; they know we have waited to speak to you and
Paulina. They also know that Tullia and I do not approve of the manner in which
they courted and wed without the knowledge or blessing of their families.”

Decimus nodded
his head, and then placed it between his hands before raising it to look once
again at Marcus.

“What are we
going to do about it?” he asked his old rival. “I spoke to Antonius, and he
admitted that it is a solid marriage and can not be merely annulled. And if we
attempt to dissolve it all will hear of it through the courts, and then your
daughter’s reputation will be stained irrevocably by the announcement of the
marriage and its dissolution once it is made known.”

Marcus gasped
at the revelation.

“I had not
thought of that!” he admitted. “Nor has her mother, I am sure. Our concern has
been for the marriage itself and the secrecy of it; and the consequences of the
revelation of it when it is made.”

Decimus did
not have to ask Marcus to clarify that remark: he knew all too well the hatred
that his foe still bore him. And the animosity of Tullia, who had never
forgotten the way he treated her. There was no one Tullia would have wished her
daughter to marry less than the son of her former abductor.

“Does Paulina
know?” Marcus asked him, more for something to say than from a real desire to
know.

Decimus shook
his head.

“No,” he
admitted. “Were I to tell her, she would be planning a celebration and inviting
all of Lycenium before any could stop her. She would be thrilled at the thought
of a union between her son and Tullia’s daughter, for she speaks of Tullia with
such admiration and declares her to be her best friend in Lycenium.”

Here a wry
chuckle escaped Decimus. He attempted to stop it, but it erupted into laughter
that cascaded from him like the spray from a fountain, and he fished in the
pocket of his robe for a kerchief to stem the flow of sudden tears that fell
from his eyes and down his cheeks with the rapidity of melting snow off a
hillock on a sunny day.

“Oh, the irony
of it,” he rued as his laughter finally stopped. “Of all the women in the
world…”

Marcus saw the
tears that Decimus attempted to quench and to hide, and once again he felt a
moment of pity for him. Did he love Tullia still? He tried to stifle his
jealousy, knowing that his wife was truly a remarkable woman. Would any man,
having fallen for her, truly be able to forget her? He thought not.

But it was not
a thought that made him comfortable in the presence of the man who had once
courted her and nearly succeeded in wooing her away from himself.

“Yes, ironic,”
Marcus satisfied himself with agreement on that statement.

“But now the
question to be answered is, what are we going to do about it?”

It was only
after Decimus left that Marcus realized that he had failed to ask his
unexpected visitor the fate of Logos, so great was his astonishment at the
visit and purpose.