Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (9 page)

Lucius Maximus
pondered the landscape before him. The river ran under the stone bridges dotted
with statues of the famed and great that spanned its wide expanse, shrinking
all else into insignificance. The boats of the wealthy of the city meandered
their leisurely way down its course as though time was a matter of small
concern, and all the day was before those who drifted in its wake.

Ah, Lycenium!
How he loved this city, his favorite spot on earth. Not for him the cold city
of Potentus, capital of the Valeriun Empire. Let the military and the power-mad
take their leave of it; he had no use for it! Only here was to be had the
pleasure that he sought, the beauty his soul delighted in. Not for the first
time since his arrival did he ask himself how he had ever borne his native
city, endure existence in the country of his birth.

Lycenium truly
was the city where East meets West, just as he had always been told. Here were
to be found the mystics of the East conversing with the scholars of the West,
enlightening one another even as they spoke. The dramas and comedies of Western
culture enriched the lives of those wealthy enough to indulge in the commerce
of exotic textiles, perfumes, and spices of the East, brought in by traders via
the river that ran through its environs.

Lucius felt
that he would be content to remain in this city forever, and never return to
the land of his fathers to take up the duties that lay in wait upon his
homecoming. Lycenium was his mother’s city, and how he reveled in it! And if
revelry were to be found, wasn’t that after all what the young were meant for?
Surely a little pleasure did no one any harm!

That his
father and mother would not approve of the revelries he had indulged freely in
since his arrival six months ago, he was well aware. His younger sister Felicia
had always been the “good” child of the family, if following Dominio meant that
one was good. But Lucius had always sought his own way, though careful to hide
it from his stern father and devout mother.

Just bide his
time and wait, he had told himself; wait for the time when he could leave the
family nest and strike out on his own. Then he would be free to pursue his own
way and deny himself no longer!

And pursue his
own way he had, boldly experimenting with first this new experience, then that
one, and then another. Let Felicia be the good child of the family: he meant to
live to the fullest, and in his eyes this did not include serving Dominio to
the extent of his sister and parents. For Lucius merely gave lip service to
Dominio, presenting only a façade of piety, while longing for the day when he
need not pretend any longer.

Lucius quickly
became renowned in the pleasure houses of Lycenium. He dutifully availed
himself of the world famous library, for like his father he loved to read. His
attendance at musicales was regular, as he inherited the love of music from his
mother.

His amusement
did not end with mere attendance at the amphitheater, but included making the
closer acquaintance of some of its most attractive and accommodating actresses,
whose hearts he broke with regularity. As he had inherited his father’s
god-like handsomeness, tall, lightly muscled, and sporting a mane of wavy dark
hair and flashing gray eyes, it was not difficult to find willing victims for
his amorous escapades. He not only joined the common citizenry in cheering on
the champions of the arena, but patronized the notorious gaming dens that
respectable citizens whispered of with distaste, thanking whichever deity they
served that their sons did not frequent such places and indulge in such
shameful practices!

And there were
deities to be found in abundance in Lycenium. Alexandrians had a small
gathering in the city, as did older gods that had been abandoned in nations
such as the Isles of Solone, where the invading forces of Valerium had
disillusioned the inhabitants, who forsook the altars of their divinities who
had proved impotent in fending off the Imperial Army that brought them into
captivity and placed them under the rule of the usurper.

In Lycenium,
however, the cult of Lopponios, the god of Light had been newly resurrected.
Lycenium had its roots in the Isles of Solone, where Lysandros had ventured
forth from and founded this city so long ago. Other sects had made inroads from
the East and strange rites were performed in secret by those who vowed a pledge
of silence, punishable if broken.

Lucius did not
bow down before these altars, and only rarely visited the gatherings of the
Alexandrians. This latter he performed as a mere duty, lest any word of his
neglect reach Valerium and be brought to the ears of his father. Marcus, he
knew, would be most displeased were his son to abandon the teachings of his
youth, and to forsake the worship of Dominio. Therefore, to spare his father
pain and himself punishment, he kept to himself his wayward heart in leaving
the path he had followed so long in the home of his father.

He entered the
villa of his grandmother Drusilla and steeled himself for the boredom of the
evening meal. If he had a choice, he would rather endure the pious conversation
of his father than the inane chatter of his mother’s mother. At least his
father was an intelligent man, well traveled and acquainted with all of the
teachings of the great and learned men of the world. His grandmother knew no
conversation other than the latest social gossip which bored him almost beyond
endurance.

His stately
grandfather Tullios had passed away five years ago, taken by a bout of illness
one winter that he never recovered from. Lucius honestly mourned the old man,
who had been stern but full of life, relenting from his soldierly posture to
take his young grandson by the hand for long walks where he entertained the
youngster with tales of old campaigns fought in lands far away.

Now as he
entered the villa, Drusilla emerged from the dining room where she had just
issued the final instructions to her servants. Her face brightened at the sight
of Lucius, for silly old woman though he considered her, she loved her
grandchildren intensely.

“Lucius!” she
shrieked excitedly, like some old bird that has just spotted a worm for
devouring. “I have wonderful news! Today I had a letter from your parents. They
have just delivered your sister safely to Solone and will be arriving within a
fortnight. How delightful it will be for both of us to see them once again!”

 Lucius paled
and attempted a feeble smile, but in the news that delighted his grandmother he
heard the death knell of all his pleasure.

Lucius was
shocked upon their arrival to see how much his father had aged since last he
saw him. Could this be his father, this man whose mane of dark hair was now
streaked with white, his piercing gray eyes lined heavily, with the bags of
sleepless nights pouched below them? His father had always been as handsome as
a god come to earth: but this man facing him now looked merely mortal, and one
that has suddenly been confronted with the harshness of reality.

His mother
looked tired and sad, yet still quite striking in beauty. His father had once
told him that he had loved her the moment he saw her, and that she was the most
sought after young woman of her set in both Valerium and Lycenium. He could
well believe it, as she retained the grace and elegance that had won so many
hearts and set them racing.

But what was
this his father was relating to him now? The Alexandrians had been forced to
abandon Valerium? The Emperor, his father’s good friend the Emperor Urbanus,
had actually issued a royal decree ordering the Alexandrians to desist in their
meetings? And worst of all, the Maximus estate had been confiscated by the
Imperial government, and the family evicted from it? How could this be? How could
such a thing have come upon his family? And upon Valerium?

They stayed up
and talked late into the night. Lucius had been shaken out of his customary
self-complacency by the news his father had related. How it had impacted his
parents was only too evident, as they seemed to have aged overnight.

But it would
change, Marcus told him. Sooner or later his good friend Urbanus would see the
error of his ways, understand the viper he had taken into his bosom, and all
would be made right again. Of that he was certain. Of that, he must believe…

His great
relief was that he had been able to save Logos, the fabulous Sword that had
been given to him when he was but a boy of seventeen. It would come to him,
Marcus told Lucius. When the time came for Marcus to depart from this world, he
would leave Logos to him as his legacy, an inheritance to be treasured and
handed down to his heirs.

How much he
would treasure it, Lucius thought, remained to be seen, as he preferred more
tangible and useful treasures that could be utilized in the accumulation of
wealth. But he wisely kept such thoughts to himself, and merely indulged his
father with a nod of agreement.

They must,
Marcus announced to his wife and son, call a convocation of the believers in
Lycenium. Then they must relate to them what had transpired in Valerium, and
the persecution of the brethren. For if it had happened there, where the
Governor had always been such a friend to their cause, it could certainly
happen in Lycenium; or anywhere.

Marcus also
shared with Lucius how the arrival of the mysterious Iacomus Cornelius had
heralded the strange turn of events in Valerium.

“I must discover
everything that I can about him,” he told his son. “The facts we do have about
him are contradictory, and only add to the puzzle. I must know why he came to
Valerium, for I divine now that he did so with some deliberation, and a purpose
in mind. But his motivation is known only to himself at this point. If we could
but find it out, then we could perhaps, expose him for the charlatan that we
know him to be.”

Lucius
listened gravely and nodded his head. The Cornelius family was well known and
respected in Lycenium. He was not personally acquainted with the family, but
surely his grandmother would know. If anyone knew the history of this man, it
would be her. And she could perhaps shed some light on his motivation in coming
to Valerium and stirring up strife.

And then they
could determine a course of action to right the terrible injustice that had
been done to the Alexandrians. 

“Yes, yes, of
course, I know all about the Cornelius family,” Drusilla crowed. “His mother is
one of the leading ladies in Lycenium society, and so refined and elegant! She
is a sight to behold in her splendid robes, which are the most luxurious to be
found in Lycenium, considering that the cloth is brought in from the finest
producers of textiles in all the world! Why the cost of them is so exorbitant…”

“Mother,
please!” Tullia implored. “We do not need to know the history of his mother as
much as we need to know the history of Iacomus. He is said to have died many
years ago, yet he came to Valerium, and the result was catastrophic. Can you
not shed some light on his history; do you know where the rumor that he died
originated, and whether it was proved to be fact? Or is he merely assumed dead,
yet lives on to wreak havoc where he wills?”

Drusilla did
not take offense, but puckered her wrinkled lips and frowned in an effort of
concentration.

“Hmmm, let me
think,” she murmured. “I heard of him when he was a lad, and how wild he was.
Indeed, he was something of a legend in Lycenium, where his bad example was
feared as something that would influence other youth to follow in his
footsteps. But where did I hear this from? Let me think a moment; it will come
to me.”

She bowed her
head for a moment and placed the fingertips of both hands to her lips. Suddenly
she snapped her fingers in triumph.

“I have it!”
she exulted. “I heard all of this many years ago, when you and I lived in
Lycenium when your father was stationed here. And the person who related it to
me was Quintina Hadrianus. And she should know the veracity of his history
because Iacomus was the best friend of her son, Decimus Hadrianus.”

“Decimus
Hadrianus!” Marcus exclaimed in accents of horror. “Now it begins to make
sense; the pieces of the puzzle are coming together!”

“But Father,”
Lucius hastened to assure him, “it is alright. Decimus Hadrianus is the father
of Antonius, my closest friend in Lycenium.”

To Marcus the
room seemed to swirl around him as his mind reeled. The son of Decimus had
befriended his son: the fiend! Not with any motives of disinterest he would
warrant!

Marcus whirled
around to face his son.

“And just
what, pray tell,” he uttered through clenched jaw in a voice steely in its
command, “did you tell your ‘friend’ regarding the beliefs of the Alexandrians?
What did you reveal to him that he related to his father, who passed it on to
this viper who came slithering in among a cote of innocent doves to destroy it?”

Lucius thought
back to his meeting with Antonius. They had met in the Hall of Knowledge, the
great building that housed the classrooms where those who wished to extend
their learning beyond that of their private tutors met. It had seemed
completely innocent in the eyes of Lucius.

Antonius was a
gentle young man, and rather idealistic in his view of life. Lucius would have
dismissed him as a dreamer and had nothing to do with him, but Antonius also
possessed a joy in life that was irresistible to one of a kindred spirit such
as he. For was not life to be enjoyed, and laughter indulged in on every
occasion?

They quickly
bonded, and spent much time together. Antonius, however, did not frequent the
gaming halls nor visit the actresses of the amphitheater. He professed himself
interested when Lucius spoke of his family’s faith in Dominio, and how he found
it difficult to remain as devout as his parents. He had questioned him at
length, and Lucius, thinking it nothing more than curiosity on the part of his
new friend, held back nothing regarding the beliefs of the Alexandrians.

He told his
father the history of his friendship with Antonius, withering under the
piercing stare of Marcus’ gray eyes.

“And every
word you told him, he carried back to Decimus, who conveyed it to Iacomus, who
hastened to Valerium to bring our doom,” Marcus intoned like the voice of a
bearer of bad news.

“No, Father!
It could not be like that! There is nothing devious in Antonius; for he is the
gentlest soul I have ever met. There is no deceit or malice to be found in him
whatsoever.”

“Yet,
everything you shared with him found its way back to his father, I will swear
to it!” Marcus exclaimed in tones of disgust.

Tullia had
said nothing during this recital, but paled an ashen shade and swayed slightly
on her couch so badly that Lucius was afraid she would faint. He looked in
puzzlement from his mother to his father.

“But,” he
fumbled, “I do not understand. Why do you think that Decimus or Iacomus would
wish to harm you or the Alexandrians? What malice could either of them possibly
bear you?”

Marcus
pondered long before addressing his son’s question. He could share nothing
unless it was agreeable to Tullia, who after all, had suffered the greatest at
the hands of Decimus. Long had it rankled in his soul, how lightly Decimus was
punished for his crimes against Tullia. And against Felix…

A public
rebuke, and handed over to the custody of his father Gerontius. That was all
the punishment that was deemed necessary for the son of the Governor of
Lycenium. Yet even in the marketplaces of Lycenium and Potentus it had been
whispered that the young Hadrianus had gotten away with murder and abduction,
and so virulent was the talk against him that Gerontius had been forced to resign
as Governor the following spring. He and his family left Lycenium for two years
to live down the disgrace, and Gerontius retired completely from public office.

When they
returned to Lycenium, Decimus was accompanied by a bride; a young and innocent girl
who was completely ignorant of the reputation of her husband, and the foul
deeds he had committed against others. Marcus wondered if he would have ever
been able to marry in Lycenium or Potentus, where his scandalous behavior was
far too well-known. Indeed, the bride he brought back from the provinces was
not quite of the same social class that Decimus was accustomed to wooing, but
that he found any wife at all was a marvel to Marcus, considering his history
of debauchery and violence.

And now, of
all the ironies of which life could deal, his own son had been befriended by
the son of this villain who had already caused so much grief to the Maximus
family. But, did he have a right to tell Lucius what Decimus had done to his
own mother? Not without the consent of Tullia; for she had been deeply
humiliated by the abduction of Decimus, and had it not been for her marriage to
Marcus it was doubtful she would have had another offer of marriage. For always
there would have been the question of whether Decimus had had his way with her,
and her reputation would have been irrevocably stained.

Marcus glanced
over at her: Tullia now appeared recovered from her momentary shock and
appeared perfectly composed. He caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. She
sighed somewhat ruefully, and slowly nodded her head. Marcus knew now what he
must do…

The three of
them talked in an emotional discussion that grew heated at times in its
exchange. Drusilla had removed herself from the room as she sensed the storm
that was coming, exhibiting a rare tact on her part for which Marcus was
grateful. For Lucius had never heard any of this history and was reluctant to
believe it.

Why, Decimus
was a fine man! He would never harm anyone; how was this possible that he had abducted
a maiden and killed a man? Only a scoundrel would be capable of such
wickedness, and he had not even been punished for it! Was it therefore possible
that his parents were mistaken at the depths of his evil?

Marcus could
not believe the obstinacy of his son. How could they be mistaken, eyewitnesses
as they were to the evil deeds of Decimus? Did Lucius mean to call his own
mother a liar? Did he believe that she had not been taken and held captive
against her will?

And what of
Felix? Marcus was there when Decimus stabbed him. His target had actually been
Tullia and Felix intervened. What of that? Did Lucius mean to say that his
father was blind in addition to calling his mother a liar?

At last Tullia
intervened.

“Please,
Lucius! I realize this is too much for you to comprehend, but please, my son,
believe me, when I tell you that it all happened. And Decimus was publicly
denounced for it and his father had to resign as Governor in disgrace. Ask any
citizen of Lycenium who was here at the time. Ask your own grandmother: they
will confirm everything your father has told you.”

Lucius was
pale with shock and the need for sleep, having stayed up so late the night
before. And now here was his father and mother relating a history that he was
unaware of and implying that his new friend was merely a tool in the hands of
his father and not to be trusted.

At last he
could bear no more.

“Father, Mother,
I beg of you, let us stop this discussion. I am weary and can not believe what
you have told me. I do not say that you lie, yet how can I believe this of one
who has invited me into his home and treated me with all of the courtesy due a
companion of his son? I have never been treated with anything but kindness by
both Decimus and his wife. This account contradicts my own experience and is
incredible to my ears.”

He groaned and
rubbed his eyes. Tullia looked at her son with eyes misty with tears, while
Marcus waited with patience for him to continue. After all, he recalled with
some rue, had he not once spoken to his own father that way when he shared his
past with the Empress Aurora before meeting his wife Honoria? He, too, had
found the tale hard to believe…

“Allow me to
do this,” Lucius spoke at last, “Permit me to invite Antonius to dine with us
tomorrow evening, and you will meet him for yourself. Then tell me whether you
do not consider him the gentlest soul in the world.”