Authors: L. M. Roth
Marcus had not
thought that the face of Felix could have gone any paler. He was mistaken. It
was now Felix who held onto Marcus for support as he gripped his arm tightly.
“Well, I
perceive by the reaction of these gentlemen that you are a seer,” Fanchon
squealed in delight. “Now it is
my
turn! Oh, how exciting! We do not
have seers in my land. Indeed some people cannot see straight at all after a
night of feasting!”
Kyrene turned
to the giddy girl, a look of patient amusement on her face. It was, Marcus
reflected, the look a mother might cast on one of her children whose playing
might divert her. Yet the two girls were much of an age.
“You, Fanchon,
must seek true joy and not mere pleasure. For broad is the path to destruction.
Narrow is the way that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”
Fanchon looked
puzzled and displeased. It was clear by the frown that replaced her smile that
she did not understand the words of Kyrene. Nor did she like them.
Without
waiting to be asked, Kyrene turned to Dag. He eyed her warily, as if unsure whether
she was a friend or a foe.
“You who saved
one life from the bear must lose your own life to the Lamb. For if you seek to
save your life you will surely lose it. But if you let it go you will find it.”
Dag said
nothing, but he bowed his head to Kyrene.
Small Cort
looked at her in apprehension waiting his turn. He succumbed as if to some
unavoidable inevitability. He gave her a pleading look. She smiled at him.
“No, young
Cort, it is not the time to reveal your secret.”
Cort smile and
relaxed. Kyrene continued.
“But I tell
you now that when your father and mother forsake you, there is a friend who
sticks closer than a brother.”
Cort
brightened and turned to Dag.
“Yes, that is
right! Dag is my friend who takes care of me.”
Dag tousled
Cort’s hair with affection. Kyrene smiled again.
“I do not mean
Dag,” she said.
“Who are you?”
Marcus demanded of the strange young woman who had just told them all about
themselves.
“I have told
you my name,” Kyrene replied, her voice as cool and serene as her countenance.
Of all the party, she was the only one who remained unruffled, as though
disturbing the peace of strangers with unnerving revelations was an everyday
occurrence for her.
“No, I mean,
what
are you? How do you know the secrets of our hearts?” Marcus inquired.
Kyrene wavered
for a moment, looking steadily at Marcus, as though taking measure of him. She
looked over her shoulder in one direction at the slope beneath her, then in the
other direction to the grove of olives behind her. As if satisfied that no
listener lurked near, she nodded, then took a deep breath.
“If I tell
you, will you keep it secret?” she whispered.
She looked
solemnly first at Marcus, then at the others one by one. Each in turn nodded
just as solemnly.
“Very well. You
asked me earlier, Marcus Maximus, why the people in the taverna, for that is
what we call it, revealed a pearl to one another. The pearl is the symbol of
our true allegiance.”
She paused,
again looking intently at Marcus as though to gauge his reaction. Marcus
wrinkled his brow, not altogether certain that he wanted to be informed of some
treasonous plot against the Empire. To be informed meant he would have to take
action of some sort, and right now his hands were full. Unless, it could buy
him favor with the Empress and thus release his parents sooner without having
to first find the Pearl…
“Allegiance?
To Solone, do you mean? You are some rebel sect?”
It seemed
logical after all to use the pearl as a symbol, as pearls were so plentiful in
Solone.
“No, not to
Solone. But our allegiance is not to the Valeriun Empire, either. You see, our
allegiance is to a kingdom not of this world. For we are pledged to the Kingdom
of Heaven.”
“Well, that
seems harmless enough. I suppose everyone should be free to worship whatever
they choose,” Marcus replied, diplomatically he thought, when he took into
consideration that he believed in nothing and no one.
Kyrene gave an
impatient little shrug of her shoulders at his obtuseness, and tried once again
to explain.
“You do not
understand, Marcus. We are committed not just to Dominio, the One true God, but
to an entirely different government. When one of us wishes to make ourselves
known to another, but are not quite sure if the other is a believer, we pass a
pearl to reveal who we are. A pearl will not attract attention to us in Solone
because it is famous for them. And my father gives us freely as many as we
need.”
Kyrene paused,
as if uncertain how to proceed further. A quick glance showed her that she now
had the undivided attention of all of them.
Dag scowled in
uncertainty, as though dubious about whether to trust what the young seer was
about to share with them. Fanchon listened as though scarcely daring to
breathe, and Cort stopped in his ceaseless activity to listen with all the
attention his restless little soul could muster. Felix waited with eyes alight
with curiosity for her to finish her discourse.
“Go on,” Felix
encouraged her. “Tell us what it is you believe. And why you use a pearl for a
symbol of identification.”
“Do you know
how a pearl is formed?” Kyrene asked them.
She looked
again at each in turn, but none could answer.
“It is created
at all only because of irritation. Some small particle, perhaps a grain of
sand, perhaps a pebble such as one gets in one’s sandals, who knows? gets in
the shell of an oyster and chafes it. It cannot bear the abrasion, so it
releases a milky substance to protect and soothe itself.
“It releases
more and more of this substance until at last a perfect orb is formed, which we
call a pearl. When it reaches that stage it is very valuable, and men will risk
their lives to obtain it, while others will pay a great price to purchase it.”
Marcus bored
in on Kyrene’s narrative with intensity, scarcely daring to breathe, lest he
miss a word of her explanation due to the sound of his own drawn breath. His
heart pounded rapidly. Was this, at last, the solution of the mystery for which
he had been sent on the quest?
“How
interesting,” Felix remarked, always athirst for tidbits of new knowledge. “I
was not aware of that. But you have not explained why you chose the pearl for
the identification of your sect.”
Kyrene paused
again, as if carefully choosing her words before continuing. She looked at each
one again, to weigh the effect of her words on her listeners. All were
attentive and waiting for her next words.
“Suffering is
rather like the process through which a pearl is created. Something in our
existence, say a circumstance we cannot change, a character fault that causes a
problem, a physical ailment we are afflicted with, it can be anything! makes us
suffer. We cannot change it ourselves, and yet the pain is unbearable. What do
we do? Some try to change it themselves, but they cannot and only make the
matter worse.
“We who
believe submit the problem to Dominio, who either removes the problem or
changes our hearts so we can endure with fortitude. As we yield our hearts for
change, it is as if He releases that same milky substance around us. The deeper
the suffering, the more refined we become, changed into His image as we were
intended to be.
“We are
transformed from frail human vessels and become the bearers of His glory, as it
was in the beginning. At that point we become so valuable that one would risk a
life to obtain us, would pay a great price to purchase us. As indeed, He
already has.”
Felix and
Marcus gave one another a sidelong glance. Each wore identical expressions of
bewilderment. Felix lifted his eyebrow slightly, and shrugged.
Then Marcus
turned to Kyrene.
“Whose image,
Kyrene? Who are you talking about?”
Kyrene again
looked furtively around for hidden lurkers. Satisfied that she saw no one, she
turned back to the little band of companions.
“Come,” she
said. “There is someone you should meet.”
They followed
Kyrene down the hill opposite on the other side from which she had ascended.
Marcus noted that once again she looked around furtively as though she feared
being followed. Her hazel eyes were widened and as wary as a deer in the forest
alert for the scent of the hunter.
He was
beginning to be intrigued by her caution; also to wonder whether she might not
be a fugitive wanted by the government. He questioned the wisdom of involving
himself with someone who might embroil them all in danger. Still, the mystery
of the Pearl and the need to fulfill his quest was too pressing to allow him to
be overly particular when introducing himself to new acquaintances.
If Kyrene knew
more that could lead him to the object of his pursuit, then follow her he must.
And if it turned out, as he was beginning to suspect, that she was a member of
some rebel faction that was plotting an uprising against the Empire, that was
all to the good, as the Empress would wish to reward her loyal subjects who
would alert her to such a rebellion…
They crossed a
broad meadow dotted here and there with large stones that appeared to be
fragments of former edifices. Marcus wondered what stood in their place long
ago, what glory did they once raise to the sky, of which now there was only a
ruin?
He reflected
with sadness on the fleeting passage of time. What was the purpose of life if
that which was so magnificent today was all but forgotten tomorrow? Would his
own name live on after he was gone? Or would it also be as these stones,
nothing but a half-forgotten moment in the passing of the world?
Marcus kept
these thoughts to himself.
Kyrene led
them to one of the outermost hills that rose above the meadow. Here the terrain
shifted abruptly. While the base of the hill was as green and strewn with
wildflowers as the meadow below, the higher they climbed to the summit, the
more dramatic the change in the landscape. Halfway to the peak the grass
thinned out, then gave way completely to loose sharp rocks scattered over the
hard-baked ground.
When they
crested the rise they understood why no grass or wildflowers were to be found,
for they stood on a peak that descended to a semicircle of a stone basin. The
basin ringed an inland sea which covered the remains of what had once been the
volcano that destroyed the great Solone civilization, ending her glory and her
grandeur, leaving only the legend of what once was in the wake of its
destruction.
It was at this
spot that the earth quaked with a terrifying tumult while the mountain blew
itself apart with the violence of the explosion. The sea rushed in with a
deafening roar as the towering waves buried the city that had once thrived in
the flower of its magnificence. No longer did its white walls rise to greet the
morning sun. No longer did the world throng to seek its knowledge. No longer
was the sound of music and laughter to be heard in its midst. It was silent
now, and would be for all of time.
Kyrene
scampered over the rocks as nimbly as a mountain goat. It was evident that this
was a journey she had made many times. Occasionally she glanced back to see how
the others fared, then continued on her way. She led them up the side of the
basin, to where a footpath climbed to a plateau above it.
When they
reached the plateau, she bade them stop a moment to rest and catch their
breath. Willingly they did so, for the climb had been steep and the day warm.
They sank down onto flat rocks and took stock of their surroundings.
All around
them as far as they could see were rocks and hills, the remnants of the devastation
created by the volcano when it blew its top so many hundreds of years ago. Here
its fury had been spent, and here its legacy was evident in the inland sea that
lay far below where they sat.
They surveyed
the plateau on which they now rested.
It was a
broad, rocky hilltop, where the fertile volcanic ash had birthed new life. Tall
trees of acacia offered seclusion from prying eyes, and shade from the
merciless sun, and natural caves offered protection from more predatory
dangers.
After a rest
of not more than fifteen minutes in which little was said in order to conserve
strength, they collected themselves to continue on their way. Marcus was the
first to rise and motioned for Kyrene to precede him. One by one they rose to
their feet and followed in her wake.
Kyrene led
them along the footpath that rose to an even higher hill. In this place the
path was flagged with old stepping stones worn smooth by time. The path wound
in ever increasing steepness until it reached a rocky promontory.
They stood
before a small stone building set into the rock face behind it. It was actually
built into the rock and was part of it. For many long years it had stood, for
so long that it was said to be the lone remainder of the buildings that stood
here before the eruption.
But none of
this was known to Marcus or his companions. He merely found it exceedingly
strange that any building should be erected in such a harsh setting, and
inquired of Kyrene whether she knew of its history.
“Yes, indeed,
I do,” she nodded her head. “This is where the wise man, or sage, lived in
olden times, when Solone was still the center of learning and knowledge. Many
were those who made pilgrimage here to seek his wisdom. After the eruption it
was the only edifice left standing. It was built into the rock and the waves
did not climb this high.”
Felix touched
the curious structure, examining the stones of various sizes that were chiseled
to an exact precision to bind together. They were not the marble of the Temple
of Light; they were rather slabs of rock stacked one upon another in a
seemingly precarious manner. Yet they were mortared in such a fashion that they
had withstood not only the force of the volcanic blast but also the erosion of
the weather.
“You say a
wise man lived here once,” Felix remarked. “It does seem wise indeed to build
right into the rock. What better shelter could one seek from eruptions and the
storms of life?”
Kyrene laughed
her appreciation and nodded in agreement, sending her tawny mane flying around
her shoulders.
“Yes, to do so
is wise indeed. But the wise men have not lived here for many years; for their
wisdom of long ago is lost with the ruins of the city. The only sage to live
here now is a lonely hermit. His name is Xenon.”