Authors: L. M. Roth
Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (60 page)
I
A
New Kingdom Arises
It was time
for the Festival of Regat in the city of Potentus, capital of the mighty
Valeriun Empire. But for the first time in more than seven hundred years the
celebration of feasting held in honor of the Valeriun god of war was not to be
observed. Since the dawn of the Empire when Valerianus the first Emperor of
Valerium had made sacrifice to the god who had given him the victory that
enabled him to seize the throne from the weakling Egnatius, who ruled over a
mere kingdom, this feast had been kept from the middle of December through the
first week of January every year. All Valerians were required to keep it or pay
a tax for penalty. Travel was forbidden as solemn rites were enacted, giving
obeisance to the god, and triumphal marches preceded by the blowing of trumpets
took place in the city square of Potentus.
Today the city
square was alight with the burning of the heretics, those who defied the edict
of Emperor Iacomus and kept the Festival of Regat.
Dag Adalbart
looked on at the brutal slaughter of more than four hundred citizens of the
city of Potentus with horror. He recalled too late the prophecy that Marcus
Maximus had quoted to him from a dream his daughter Felicia had:
“Beware of the
one who rises from the dead, he will bring destruction in the days ahead. The
smoke of flames burning shall block out the sun. One kingdom shall rise as
another is done.”
Dag remembered
that Marcus was certain the prophecy pertained to Iacomus Cornelius, a man who
was thought to be dead in his own city of Lycenium. But now he realized too
late that it pertained to this man now known as Emperor Iacomus, whom Dag had
raised from the dead through the power of Dominio. If only he had known what
would happen if the Emperor were resurrected he would never have prayed for it!
But at the time when the Emperor lay dead at his feet, laughing at the words of
Cort, he thought it would prove the truth of Cort’s words regarding Dominio if
He were to raise him from the dead.
He recalled
that Felicia had seen buildings fall in her dream; he puzzled over this, and
with a flash of inspiration he realized the buildings were a symbol of the
foundation of the Empire. And the festival of Regat, the celebration in honor
of the god of war who was credited with giving the first Emperor, Valerianus,
victory over his foe, was officially outlawed. The very structure on which the
Valeriun Empire was built had crumbled, and a new kingdom was rising in its
midst. But not Dominio’s Kingdom of Heaven: no, the Emperor was taking the name
of Dominio in vain and implementing a terrifying abuse of power that would
bring death to untold thousands, all in the name of God.
Dag shook his
head and tears poured unheeded down his face as he observed the burnings from
his window high up in the Imperial Palace. For the Emperor had refused to
release Dag after the miracle, stating that he needed the great man near him
lest he need another miracle. Dag had protested, and pleaded for his release so
he could return to his family.
Iacomus had
merely laughed at the entreaties of the royal prisoner.
“But we have
need of you, far more than your family does!” he had exclaimed. “They shall
have to do without you; for we are going to give you a fine ring for your hand,
and luxurious rooms of your own in the Palace, and all that you desire shall be
yours, my miracle man.
“No, you shall
not be released. I forbid it.”
Here the
Emperor paused for a moment as if to reconsider his own words, and bowed his
head in contemplation.
“However,” he
said as his eyes lit up with what seemed a solution, “you may send your son
home, that he may tell your family where you are. Send for them if you like. We
should not like it said that we caused anyone to suffer in our service.”
And with a
flick of his imperial hand, the Emperor Iacomus decided the fate of Dag
Adalbart.
Cort had
obeyed Dag’s wishes, departing for Eirinia with all speed to inform the family
of his imprisonment. For was it not further imprisonment that had been meted
out to him? Always to be at the beck and call of the Emperor, never allowing
freedom to come and go as Dag wished? Yes, it was continued imprisonment in
Cort’s eyes, and nothing less than that.
Cort set out
once more for Eirinia with his wife Siv and his mother Brit. In truth, he had
thought he was done with Eirinia forever, and that once he learned the fate of
Dag and ascertained his safety that he would be released to go where Dominio
sent him. Yet now he must return to that home which was not his home, and his
journey to his own destination must wait until the family was settled, whether
in Valerium at the Emperor’s invitation, or to remain in Eirinia and pray for a
miracle for Dag’s release.
Cort pondered
on the matter and spoke to Dag before departing.
“What is your
wish, Father?” he asked Dag.
Dag did not
hesitate to answer for even one moment.
“Tell them to
remain in Eirinia,” he ordered. “Tell them that I do not wish those I love to
come to this place of madness; for it will soon be such a place under the rule
of this wicked man.”
“But, Father,
can you honestly make such a claim? For did not the Emperor himself say that he
would make the worship of Dominio and His son Alexandros official throughout
the Empire? That shall bring an end to the persecution of Alexandrians, don’t
you see?”
Dag shook his
head and let out a deep sigh.
“No, my son,”
he answered in a deep voice that was heavy with weariness. “For the Emperor has
gone much too far; he would
make
all worship Dominio and Alexandros, on
pain of death if they do not. And that is not the way of Dominio, who gave free
will to all men.”
“But, Father,
Dominio is the true God! If men do not worship Him they shall not be able to
enter His home in Heaven after they pass on: Xenon told us so many years ago in
Solone. In some way the Emperor is right, because all who would deny Dominio
shall suffer pain of death, and never be resurrected.”
Dag gave Cort
a hard look that turned his dark eyes to a deep and glittering black. He shook
his head slowly from side to side, as if grieved at the obtuseness of his
adopted son.
“Cort,” he
thundered with a sense of urgency in his voice, “you can not
force
anyone to worship Dominio or Alexandros. He gives men a choice, and they shall
pay the price according to the choice they make; if they refuse Him they may
not enter Heaven because they refused Him and can not enter His home. But for
the Emperor to
force
men to obey is to play God himself. And that can
not be done by the will of Dominio.”
Cort suddenly
gasped as he at last grasped the import of Dag’s words. He turned pale and he
became so dizzy that his father’s face was a blur in front of his eyes.
“I see, now I
see,” he whispered faintly as horror overtook him.
And he saw
indeed that it was not for the Valeriun Empire, but for the Alexandrians, that
the days of terror had begun.
A
Surprise In Lycenium
Marcus paced
the floor of his spacious villa in Lycenium, or rather, he thought with more
than a touch of irony, his mother-in-law’s villa. How he longed to be back home
in Valerium in his own home, the Villa Maximus!
December had
arrived; in Potentus the first snow would be about to fall and the grounds of
his estate would be clothed in a dazzling robe of white, shimmering under the
moonlight as its beams shed a glitter on the pristine purity. He recalled
walking the grounds with Tullia after nightfall, their arms linked as they
breathed in the crisp air and collected handfuls of the snow to marvel at its
texture, looking so like sugar that seemed spun for no other purpose than to
delight children with its beauty that lasted only a season, but dazzled in the
time it banished summer and reigned supreme.
He jerked his
thoughts back from memories of happiness to the matter at hand. A message had
come more than three weeks ago from his daughter Felicia, who announced that he
would receive a visitor in Lycenium shortly, and that he should go to the pier
to wait for new arrivals. She had given no further details, neither the name of
the guest nor the ship that guest had set sail on, which both intrigued and
annoyed her father. He saw no reason for the mystery, and wished impatiently
that she would have been plainer of speech in her message. But then, Felicia
seemed to have developed a habit of late of complicating life in general for
her parents: why should sending a simple message to her father be any
different?
Marcus had
gone daily to the pier for the last three days, expecting that his mysterious
guest should arrive at any time if the weather had been favorable. Of course,
bad weather could delay a ship for a week or two if it had been unfortunate to
encounter it. He did not see anyone that he knew, and indeed, did not even know
whom to expect.
Another matter
to discuss with that young lady the next time I see her, Marcus thought.
He found
himself wondering when that next time might be. She and her husband Antonius
had gone to Valerium nearly two months ago to attempt to intercede for the
Alexandrians there with Emperor Iacomus. Felicia suggested that as her
father-in-law was the Minister of State perhaps the Emperor might listen to his
son.
Marcus simply
could not believe that this argument would carry any weight with the Emperor,
who was as ruthless in his climb to power as any man he had ever seen. And his
deeds after attaining power had been no less brutal. The reports that came out of
Potentus of imprisonments, executions, and banishment had been consistent. It
was far worse than the persecutions the Alexandrians had suffered under Emperor
Urbanus, who had banished it from Valerium, yet did not make any proclamation
prohibiting it in the provinces.
How long would
that last under the rule of Iacomus, Marcus wondered. Urbanus had outlawed the
sect because the Alexandrians pledged their allegiance to a higher power than
the Emperor, an act of treason in his eyes. But Iacomus had gone so far as to
proclaim himself on a divine mission, and that his subjects must bow in
reverence to him and no one else. The act of doing so would be considered
treason and punishable at the pleasure of the Emperor.
And not for
the first time since Marcus had heard this proclamation did he ask himself the
question: how did one reason with a man who thought he was God?
He went to the
pier, half expecting to be disappointed yet again. But to his astonishment he
was greeted by the sound of a voice he had not heard since he left Valerium. It
was Justus, the father of his old friend Felix, and who was such a loyal friend
to Marcus and his family. With him was his wife Silvia.
“Justus!” he
exclaimed, forgetting the customary stoicism of Valerian men and rushing to embrace
the older man.
Justus
returned the embrace, as if similarly overcome by the emotion of the moment to
relax his usual dignified reserve. He held Marcus close for a moment before
releasing him gently. His dark eyes were filled with a warming light that spoke
of the affection he had for the younger man. He was gently but firmly nudged
aside by Silvia, who clamored for her turn in embracing Marcus.
Then Justus
appeared overcome by a sense of urgency.
“Quickly,
Marcus; we must hie to your villa at once. I can not explain now, there are too
many listening ears. I shall tell you all when we are safe behind your four
walls.”
Marcus nodded;
he trusted the prudence of Justus far too well to waste time asking for an
explanation now. He gathered up the parcels they had lain on the pier, and then
noticed for the first time the man who stood discreetly behind them.
“Odelius?” he
asked with a wrinkling of his brow. “What brings you to Lycenium?”
Odelius gave
him a smile completely unlike his usual smirk. This fact alone roused the
curiosity of Marcus, who had verbally sparred with the older man for years. Why
was he not at the Palace in his usual capacity of Guard? And why was he
traveling with the Lucius family?
“Later,
Marcus, later,” Justus said, firmly taking one of Marcus’ elbows and steering
him to the Maximus carriage.
Marcus nodded
his head, and soon had his guests ensconced in the carriage, where he urged his
coachman Cyriacus to make haste for home.
Marcus had
great difficulty believing the account that his old friend recounted to him.
Odelius had come to him with a message from Dag Adalbart, which he voluntarily
brought? Justus had been imprisoned for protecting Dag? And he had been
released and sent to Lycenium secretly at the hand of his old foe Decimus Hadrianus;
the man who had killed Justus’ own son Felix?
Marcus rose
from his chair and paced the library floor slowly. Silvia had been taken by
Tullia to a quiet chamber upstairs where she could rest from the voyage, and
Odelius had been dispatched to another room until it could be determined what
to do with him. Justus and Marcus were now alone, and the news was too
unbelievable for Marcus to take in.
“Why, Justus?
Why would Decimus help you? You say he came to your prison and opened the door
and sent you to the ship; yet why would he do such a thing?”
Justus shook
his head in equal mystification. He shrugged his shoulders and heaved a sigh of
weariness.
“Marcus, I
have discussed it with Silvia, and we have no explanation for it either. We are
as puzzled as you. But, Silvia did make a suggestion that I think is the most
likely reason for Decimus’ strange behavior. He is Felicia’s father-in-law, and
she is visiting Valerium with her husband. It is entirely possible that she
heard of my imprisonment and asked Decimus to importune for my release from the
Emperor. Either he attempted to and it was denied, or he simply took matters
into his own hands.”
“I suppose
that is possible,” Marcus said slowly as he meditated on the statement, “I
certainly can not see Decimus taking it on himself to do you such a favor: the
man is still despicable to me, but he does have some affection for Felicia.
Indeed, he admitted as much to me when we had to decide whether to dissolve the
marriage of our children or let it stand. He may very well have done it for her
sake, to ease her distress at seeing an old friend of the family suffer.”
Justus nodded
his head and crossed his arms over his chest with a satisfied air.
“Yes, I think
that may well be the reason. For he made it clear to me that Emperor Iacomus
knew nothing of his action, and that if I did not make haste for Lycenium that
I was as good as dead. I assumed he meant when the news of my escape was
brought to the Emperor; and I have no doubt that Decimus was right on that
score!”
“How does
Odelius factor into this?” Marcus asked in bewilderment. “Why has he come with
you to Lycenium? His roots are in Valerium and he is a stranger here.”
“Decimus’
idea,” Justus said briefly. “He said that someone had to be blamed for my
escape, and he already knew that Odelius had brought me a message from Dag, and
would probably be implicated anyway once my escape was made known. From
Decimus’ point of view, sending Odelius with me was a solution to pin the blame
on him and at the same time get him safely away.”
“Decimus said
that!” Marcus voice rose until it cracked. “Since when did Decimus Hadrianus
care about anyone’s safety but his own? You should know better than that,
Justus; after all, he killed your son.”
Justus closed
his eyes suddenly as if stabbed by a sudden pain, and Marcus cursed himself for
being such a fool as to remind his old friend of that wound he still bore. He
waited for Justus to compose himself and collect his thoughts, wishing he had
never let the words escape his lips.
“Yes, I know,
Marcus,” he said in a subdued voice. “And it was clear to me that he remembers
that also. He did not say anything to me about it; indeed, he seemed
uncomfortable and refused to look me in the eye at any time during our
discourse. I do not think he would have been uncomfortable if he were merely
doing a favor for his daughter-in-law for a man who meant nothing to him, with
no history between them. Yes, I would say he remembers very well.”
Marcus stared
at Justus in disbelief. In his whole history with Decimus the man had been
utterly selfish, caring only for his own desires and comfort. Why would he
release from prison the father of the man he had so carelessly killed? Was it
merely to please Felicia, as Silvia suggested?
Or was there
more to this mystery than lay on the surface?
