Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (8 page)

They set out
with the rising of the sun, as the first light of a pastel dawn stole slowly
over the gray eastern sky. The sun did little to warm the frosty winter day; it
merely lightened the darkness of their path. They left with the blessings of
their fathers, the tender tears and comforting kisses of Felix’s mother, and
one final warning from the Empress.

“Remember,
Marcus,” she menaced in a low voice. “Bring me the Pearl or your parents are
imprisoned forever. In fact, you will join them if you fail. The only reason
you are free now is because I want that Pearl.”

Having already
seen what the Empress was capable of, Marcus did not doubt that she meant what
she said and would keep her word if he failed to accomplish the task she had
given him. Were it not for her greed he would no doubt be dead already!

Marcus mounted
his horse with a leap over the saddle, and settled in for a long ride before
touching ground again. He despised using the stirrups, preferring to show off
the strength in his legs. Despite his misgivings at the magnitude of the task
assigned to him, he realized that it was good to mount a horse once more!

The horses
were a loan from the Empress to speed them on their way. They were to be left,
however, at the fort on the border to the northern boundary, where they would
then be returned to the Empress. So greedy was she for the Pearl that she permitted
them to be used for the journey north to expedite their progress in the heart
of winter. But the risk of taking them into foreign lands was too great for her
to permit their leaving the boundaries of Valerium.

Now he glanced
at Felix, and wondered how he felt at being forced to go on this quest. For
Aurora did not trust Marcus to go alone. So greedy was she for the Pearl that
she imagined Marcus might find it and keep it for himself. So she sent Felix
with him, warning him that if Marcus found the Pearl and withheld it from her,
Felix’s life would be forfeit.

And now they
were to begin their journey, on a cold winter’s day, at the dawn of the year.
They had been forced to wait the start of their journey until the Feast day of
Regat had come and gone. Regat was the god of war whom the Valeriun Empire
honored above all others, giving him homage for transforming Valerium from a
humble nation to a mighty Empire. This annual celebration lasted from the third
week of December until the second week of January. Travel was forbidden, it
being considered insulting to the patron god of the Empire to have any activity
other than the worship of him distract the attention of Valerian citizens.

For those
three weeks every year, all Valerians must venerate the god who had protected
the founder of the Empire, who had established him as a mighty ruler, and
granted him success in battle, provided him with wealth and bestowed on him
gifts that ordinary men envied. It was during this very season over seven
hundred years ago that Regat had blessed the statesman Valerianus in his
attempts to wrest the throne from the weak king Egnatius. He whipped up
discontent with the king’s rule among the upper class and led an uprising among
the common people against the royal taxes, and after a revolt that lasted three
weeks, he succeeded in casting down the throne of Egnatius and taking it for
himself.

Valerianus
renamed the capital city Potentus, and declared that the Valeriun Empire was
born. Henceforth, every good citizen must keep the feast of Regat and honor him
or suffer his displeasure. Even the Empress must keep this feast, or feign to
do so. To not keep it was to court disaster from the wrath of Regat, who had
made their Empire the most powerful in the known world.

“A good day to
set out,” Marcus declared. “Plenty of sun, and no wind. A mild day for
mid-January.”

“Ah, yes.
Nothing delights me more than traveling in the heart of winter, with the wind
biting my toes, and a hungry wolf hoping to nibble my nose! What joys are in
store for us to be sure!”

“Felix!”

Marcus laughed
despite the gravity of the quest. How good it was to have the company of this
faithful friend for the journey! Surely with Felix by his side the task
appeared less a daunting impossibility, and more of an adventure to be seized
and savored for the thrill of exploits and heroic deeds that awaited them!

“Seriously
though, Marcus; do you believe this Pearl actually exists? Can we possibly find
it? Or will it be some wild chase that bears no fruit and results only in our
ruin?”

“I do not
know, Felix. Yet the Empress told me she heard of it many times while in the
land of Gaudereaux. So there we must begin our search.”

“Did the
Empress permit you to see your mother before you left? My mother inquired about
that as she is very concerned about her.”

Marcus frowned
and bit his lip. A nagging worry troubled his heart at the omission of seeing
Honoria.

“No, she did
not. Aurora said she was afraid my mother could not bear the strain of fearing
what might lie ahead for me on the journey. Most considerate of her, taking
into account that she had no such concern for her health when she imprisoned
her!”

“Now, Marcus,
getting angry will not help. Not in this instance anyway. Aurora is not a man
that you could fight to release your mother. She is our Empress, and to
challenge her means to bring about your own death. And that will do your mother
no good.”

“I suppose you
are right, most excellent Felix. How often you have prevented me from acting in
a rash and hasty manner! Where would I be at times were it not for your
prudence and good sense!”

“Well, yes,
all right, Marcus,” Felix stammered and blushed. “But you need not get
sentimental about it!”

They laughed together
and prodded their horses, sending them galloping along the road. Forgetting for
a moment the life and death solemnity of the task placed upon them, they
reveled in the beauty of the frosty morning, the crunch of snow under the
hooves of the horses, and that they were young and strong and entering the full
vigor of their manhood.

And so they
began.

They
encountered their first difficulty almost at the onset of their journey. As
they traveled north of Valerium, a fierce snowstorm blew up without warning,
hurling snow at them, blinding their eyes, and freezing the breath in their
lungs.

They
dismounted from their horses, as the poor creatures struggled for footing on
the road that grew suddenly slick with ice, and led them by their reigns.
Marcus and Felix buried their faces into the hoods of their cloaks as much as
was possible, but an occasional icy blast of wind blew the hoods off of their
heads and down their backs.

Realizing they
would perish if they stayed out in the storm, they searched for shelter. It was
Felix who spotted an old house on the horizon, that of a humble farmer. Surely
they would take them in to protect them from the ferocity of the storm!

They went to
the door and knocked gently. No one answered. They knocked again, this time
with more urgency. Still no answer. Finally, on the third knock the door opened
slightly to reveal an old woman who peered out at them with a suspicious gaze.

“What do you
want?” she asked in a gruff voice, as a strand of gray hair slipped from the
bandeau that was wound around her head.

“Please, my
good woman, we need shelter for ourselves and stabling for our horses,” Marcus
explained.

Seeing that
she continued to look with suspicion upon them, he tried another tactic.

“We will pay
you handsomely,” he smiled at her.

“Go away, I
don’t take care of strangers,” the old woman huffed, preparing to shut the
door.

“Oh, please,”
Marcus begged, “the storm is ferocious and we will perish if we do not find
shelter.”

“No!” the old
woman exclaimed and shut the door with finality.

They looked in
unbelief at the door in front of them.

“Do you
believe it, Marcus?” Felix wondered. “I have never heard of anyone refusing
shelter in a storm like this!”

“Well, there
is nothing that can be done about it, Felix, so we may as well try to find
another solution,” Marcus stated, but with bitter disappointment in his heart.

He also was
stunned that anyone could shut someone out in a storm to take their chances of
life or death. But there was nothing they could do.

They traveled
on taking their horses with them, at times doubling over from the frigid blasts
of wind. It was Marcus who at last came up with the idea.

“Felix! I
cannot believe how obtuse I am!” he exclaimed.

Felix looked
at him with eyes staring blankly from misery, and teeth chattering with cold.
He did not respond to Marcus’ exclamation.

“We need to
find some trees and a hill, and quickly!” he urged.

They surveyed
the landscape around them, and spied a small hillock surrounded by a few trees
not far away. They made for it rapidly, and after slogging about fifteen
minutes in the relentless storm, came to it at last.

Marcus crowed
in triumph, and motioned for Felix to help him tear down some low-lying branches
from the pine trees that encircled the hill. After they had gathered several,
Marcus struggled up the slope of the small embankment and started pushing snow
down the hill with the aid of the branches. Felix caught on to his plan and
eagerly assisted.

When they had
scooped the hilltop nearly bare, they descended to the bottom and began packing
the snow that they sent to the bottom into hard blocks that they placed firmly
against the hill on either side of it until they had formed a small semi-circle,
large enough to encompass them and their two horses. They created a primitive
roof by gathering more branches and weaving the limbs together until they
interlocked and could be placed atop the blocks of snow. Over the limbs they
threw some woolen hangings they had brought to be used for tenting, which they
held in place by winding rope over the roof and down the blocks to entwine
around pegs which they drove into the ground. 

In this manner
they soon had a little hut that blocked them from the worst brunt of the wind.
Marcus told Felix that his father had told him of this crude form of cover that
his troops fashioned when faced with an unexpected snowstorm while campaigning.
He was delighted to discover that it actually protected them, and blessed his father
as he lay down within its confines to shelter from the storm. 

“In order to
reach Gaudereaux, you must first travel through Trekur Lende. It is a rugged,
harsh country with long winters that see deep snow, where the rivers freeze so
hard that an entire troop may cross walking abreast without any fear that the
ice will give way beneath them. The forests are dense, where the trees grow so
closely together that a man may walk through it for days and not see the light
of the sun.  

“That is why
the natives call it Trekur Lende, which means Tree Land in their tongue. The winter
nights are long in Trekur Lende, with only a few hours of daylight, because it
is said to be right at the top of the world, and does not face the sun in the
days of cold and snow. By this token, the summer days are as long as the winter
nights, because it faces the sun in the days of warmth and light, and sometimes
the sun never truly sets at all.

“When that
happens the inhabitants dance under the midnight sun and hold great feasts of
bear and wild boar and other game such as we do not eat in Valerium. And it is
said that they have strange celebrations to their gods at those times,
celebrations that are primitive and alien to such as us, for they are a
barbarian and uncultured people.  

“Most of all
to be feared in Trekur Lende are the inhabitants. They are tall, much taller
than other men, and broad because of their heavy muscles. They are savage,
fierce, and barely able to read or write. And they are quick to kill any
intruders with their mighty weapons which they use to slay the boar and the
bear. It is for those weapons that the Valerians name the country. For we call
it Terra Diuferrum, or The Land of the Long Spears.”

Thus Marcus
and Felix had been warned by the Empress Aurora. To cross through that country
they must be cautious, almost unseen. To be seen was to risk the chance of
being killed on sight. It was not advice that was likely to instill them with
confidence at the very start of their journey.

Now as they
stood at the border of this wild country, they paused in preparation for what
lay ahead.

They had
traveled for more than a fortnight from the capital of Valerium through her
northern provinces and had just crossed her border. Now they were to enter
Trekur Lende, and the prospect was daunting.

Behind them in
Valerium lay cultivated fields and gently rolling hills. Before them lay
terrain that might be difficult to traverse, or a delight to behold. They had
left a civilization both mighty in power and great in dignity to seek lands
unknown, and to encounter inhabitants who might be fierce or friendly.

They had come
to the great stone wall that was the border for Valerium with her neighbors.
This wall housed a legion of soldiers whose duty it was to guard Valerium from
any invaders. Since Valerium was the most powerful nation in the known world,
it would have been a foolhardy people indeed who thought to challenge her.

For the
garrison on duty at the wall it proved to be a lonely assignment, miles from
the nearest settlement with no one but each other for company, no amusement but
the same card games endlessly repeated. Fights were frequent as nerves frayed
raw with the boredom of monotony snapped at the slightest provocation. Months would
elapse for each soldier before he could have leave to visit family and friends,
and any distraction from duty was welcome.

Marcus and
Felix had spent three nights here before departing for Trekur Lende. Travelers
were infrequent and relived the boredom for the garrison, and Marcus thrived in
the company of soldiers. For their part, they were impressed when they realized
that he was the son of the great Valerius Maximus and voiced their concern at
his imprisonment. Marcus was touched by their wishes for a hasty release from
his bondage. When some expressed their astonishment at his own escape from the
Eirini, Marcus did not elaborate on what had actually transpired, but basked in
the admiration. Felix bit his lip and scowled, but said nothing.

But not a word
of his mission did Marcus breathe to them. Aurora had extracted from both boys
an oath of silence concerning the Pearl until they were in Gaudereaux. She
feared that the Pearl might be stolen from them in Trekur Lende or Valerium on
the return journey.

“Ask only
enough questions to obtain more information. But tell no one of your wish to
buy it until you have actually found it.”

For this
purpose Aurora had provided them with a letter of credit, on which they could
draw in her name any sum which the seller desired. To finalize the transaction
she gave Marcus a copy of her signet ring. Once its emblem had been set in the
wax seal, Marcus’ word was as good as if Aurora had said it herself.

On the second
night of their stay, Marcus and Felix were roused from their sleep by the sound
of running feet outside their door, and the shouts of men giving orders. They
scrambled to dress and hurriedly made their way to the wall, where the posted
lookout stood in his booth. There were many soldiers making their way to the
wall also. Marcus inquired of one of them what the commotion was about: he was
informed that a horde of barbarians from the north had been spotted by a scout
who had surveyed the woods earlier that afternoon for any sign of invaders.

Marcus and
Felix were thrilled; a battle, and they were about to see it firsthand! The
sentinel bade them to get behind the parapet and take cover. Marcus begged to
be allowed to fight, but the commanding officer had now arrived and told him
that was impossible, as he had not completed the training necessary for every
soldier of Valerium.

Marcus
fretted, but knew he had to obey. Still, the view from the tower was
unparalleled, and he and Felix watched the ensuing battle with excitement,
scarcely daring to breathe so intent were they on watching the scene that lay
below them.

A troop of
barbarians, dressed in the most outlandish clothes Marcus had ever seen marched
over the horizon; their gear of fur-trimmed caps that hugged their heads and
covered their ears, and boots made of fur taken from the pelt of some wild
beast was alien to the patrician young Valerian, accustomed to soldiers wearing
armor over short tunics with only a woolen cloak to cover them in wintry
weather, and long boots made of leather to warm their feet.

It was clear
that the barbarians had expected to surprise the garrison in the dead of night.
But the soldiers were at the ready, and sent a volley of arrows raining down on
the invaders. Taken unawares, they lost many in the first volley. They
dispatched arrows of their own upon the garrison, but the Valerians had the
advantage, as they could duck below the shelter of the wall.

The battle was
soon over, with the barbarian force fleeing from the arrows that persisted in
haunting their steps. They took their dead with them and headed back from
whence they came. Their retreat was accompanied by hoots and catcalls from the
Valerian soldiers who mocked them in their defeat.

Marcus
recalled the skirmish with relish, his only regret that he had not been
permitted to take part in the battle. And he knew that this was no real battle
such as his father had engaged in so often. Nay, this was a mere scuffle with
an invader who had not come prepared to wage war on a seasoned army. It had
been a display of arrogance on their part, which quickly resulted in their
downfall.

With
reluctance Marcus bade farewell to his new friends. With their blessings for
safe travel ringing in his ears, he and Felix took leave of them to journey on
their way, now on foot as they left the horses of the Empress at the garrison.

The gate to
the stone wall of the garrison had shut firmly behind them. Before them, in
every direction for as far as they could see, stood a wall of trees, trees
unlike any they had ever seen. Accustomed to gently spreading boughs of elm and
maple, their eyes were not prepared for the towering ranks of pine, fir, and
spruce that lay in their path. They seemed to shoot up to the sky as straight
as sentinels on duty. Patrolling the borders of Trekur Lende they gave warning to
the unwary, “Keep out!” they proclaimed.

Felix edged
closer to Marcus.

“Do you see a
path of any sort?” he whispered in his ear.

Marcus
shrugged and strained his eyes for a better view.

“We may have
to make our own path,” he snapped, as a sudden dread of the forest seized him.

Both were
reluctant to take the first step into the barrier of branches. The warnings of
the Empress Aurora was still fresh in their minds; what lay in wait for them in
that dark and forbidding wood?

Felix looked
at Marcus in round-eyed wonder. He waited for a signal from Marcus before
proceeding any further. Seeing that, Marcus decided to take action. Not unlike
a warhorse pawing the ground before battle he stamped his foot and tossed his
head high.

Then, with a
nod of his head toward Felix, he took a step and together they plunged into the
ominous forest.