Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (63 page)

Kyrene was in
a quandary. Judoc and Cort were leaving for Eirinia to rescue Dag, and she did
not feel that Dirk or Maelys were strong enough yet to confront the villagers
or the evil that seemed to have pervaded the surrounding countryside. Something
wicked was brewing; she could sense it as when towering thunderclouds formed on
the horizon, announcing the coming of a ferocious storm that brought lightning,
wind, and torrential rain and devastated the landscape after its passing. Was
Melisande the force behind the coming storm?

Kyrene simply
did not feel released to leave Eirinia. Even when she prayed and consulted Dominio,
she felt she must stay on to weather the impending storm with the Adalbart
family who remained in Leith. Yet what of her pupils back in Solone? She could
not simply abandon them. And Lucius stayed in Eirinia because she did, waiting
to escort her to Solone when she decided to return.

It was Lucius
who solved her dilemma.

“Why not send
a message when Cort and Judoc leave for Valerium? When they arrive in Potentus
they can give it to a captain whose ship will call at Solone and take it to
your mother. She can inform your pupils that they are on holiday for a while.
And during that holiday they should spend a great deal of time in prayer and
meditation rather than going to class.”

Kyrene
pondered on the answer. It was a sensible solution, yet she fretted at the time
lost with her students. They were all making progress in their prophetic gift
and she did not feel right in taking time away from them. Yet Dominio must be
obeyed, and she did not feel that He was releasing her from Eirinia for the
present.

It was with
reluctance that she took his suggestion and sent a message with Cort and Judoc,
resigned to her prolonged stay in Eirinia.

It was only
gradually that Kyrene noticed the attraction Lucius felt to Maelys, an
attraction it was clear that the young woman did not return. Why this was so
she could not say, for Lucius was as handsome as his father had been at his
age, and Kyrene recalled the effect his appearance had produced on young
maidens during their travels. Whether she was too caught up in the drama her
family presently endured, or she just did not care for Lucius it was impossible
to tell. But Lucius gave himself away in countless ways, and Kyrene was both
amused and concerned at the situation in which the spoiled young man now found
himself.

Maelys did not
see that the eyes of Lucius followed her around a room the way a shadow follows
the one it belongs to, but Kyrene saw it. Maelys did not hear the note of
eagerness in Lucius’ voice when he responded to her smallest request, whether
it was to hand her a cooking pot that she was not tall enough to reach or to
walk with her for safety after twilight when she wished for fresh air, but
Kyrene heard it. Maelys did not feel the yearning in the brief touch of his
hand when Lucius held it during prayer, but Kyrene felt it.

And then she
wondered: was her enforced stay in Eirinia perhaps due to this unrequited love
that the son of one old friend felt for the daughter of another? Was it to give
Lucius time to woo his beloved that she must remain indefinitely? Or was it to
give him time to realize he had false hopes that would never be fulfilled?

Lucius himself
did not philosophize over the matter. He was simply glad for every moment that
gave him access to the company of Maelys. He did not care if he never returned
to Lycenium, unless she went with him. So thorough was his infatuation for the
Eirini maiden that he, city lover that he had always been, was actually willing
to help her brother with the spring plowing.

It was now
March, and here in Eirinia where the winters were milder than in Lycenium, the
ground was ready for the plow. With his father and brothers in Valerium, Dirk
encountered the dilemma of doing everything on his own, a daunting task for one
so young to face. Lucius, to the amusement of his young host, offered his
services in any way that was needed.

After a hearty
laugh inadvertently escaped his lips, Dirk clamped them shut and expressed his
gratitude to his guest.

He would be
delighted, he said, for any help that Lucius could give him. Privately he
doubted that Lucius would be of any help, but the offer was kindly met. Perhaps
he could have him walk behind him and plant seed if nothing else. Even that
little bit would be somewhat beneficial.

To his
surprise, Lucius insisted on attempting to drive the plow, walking before the
oxen that pulled it to ensure that they drew a straight line in the ground. It
was not a task that Lucius could honestly say that he enjoyed, but in his heart
he felt the secret entertainment that his deficiencies gave his host, and he
would not let it be said of him that he was ineffectual. Lucius had met Dag on
several occasions, and Dirk was so like him in face and form that Lucius felt
both intimidated by his presence, yet determined not to be bested by a young
man his own age. And thus it was that he pulled the plow with the oxen.

He was unaware
of the glances that Maelys bestowed on him as he struggled with the oxen. The
object of his affections was as amused as her brother, but her amusement
quickly changed to astonishment when he rapidly advanced in skill. He also
worked quietly without complaining, and remembering how her brother Brenus had
complained endlessly about plowing to the extent that Dag put him to work
hunting for meat for the family meals instead, she grew to admire Lucius for
his attempts to be of use and service.

Her first
impression of him in Lycenium had been that of a rather vain young man who
knows he is handsome and enjoys the effect his looks produce on the women
around him. Surely he had many young maidens vying for his attention and led
them on for his own amusement! Therefore she felt no attraction to him, as it
required more than mere good looks to excite her interest.

And yet,
during his stay in Eirinia he had shown a genuine concern for her and her
family that won her friendship. It was only lately, as she observed his actions
during the plowing, as she saw how patiently he worked and how eager he was to
be of service that Maelys slowly awakened to the appeal of this young man. She
found herself stealing glimpses of him when he was unaware, that she might
memorize him and sigh over him when she was alone.

And in the
instant of awakening, she just as quickly attempted to lull it back to sleep.
After all, she thought with a sigh as she looked at her rustic clothes, what
would an aristocrat of Lycenium and Valerium possibly see in a country maiden
from Eirinia?

Marcus stared
at the letters on his desk and tried to decide which one brought him the most
aggravation, the one from his son or the one from his daughter. For neither of
them brought him anything but a sense of worse tidings to come.

It was now
April and the last of the snows had melted, bringing the robins back to their
roosts and the first buds of new leaves sprouting on the tree branches. The
daffodils had reared their stately heads and the lilies diffused their sweet
scent through the mild air. The days were noticeably longer, with twilight
lingering softly, bringing joy to those who basked in its radiance, as it
lightened their hearts of winter’s heavy load.

But for Marcus
it might as well still be winter with its prolonged cold and darkened days.
Neither the news from Eirinia nor the tidings from Valerium lightened his
heart: instead he felt a dull heavy weight settle on him such as he had not
felt since the days of his captivity in his youth.

Lucius, whom
he had not heard from in several months, had decided to remain in Eirinia
indefinitely, where he could be of some assistance with the spring plowing and
planting. Marcus snorted like a disdainful horse who would laugh if it had been
given the power of speech at the inexperienced rider who dared to mount it.
That his playboy son, who had never done a day’s work in his life, nor ever
demonstrated any interest in doing so, should expect him to fall for such an
excuse aroused his anger as well as his amusement. No doubt his susceptible son
had met an Eirini maiden who had captivated him with her merry laughter and
sprightly manner.

Marcus
recalled how enchanting the maidens of that country could be: petite and slim,
with light voices that lilted melodiously, and a temperament that alternately
teased or taunted their intended matrimonial victims. No doubt Lucius had lost
his heart to some bewitching young lady who had cast her spell on him and was
even now inducing him to settle in Eirinia to the life of a farmer.

He meditated
on this notion for a moment and thought it would be best not to tell Tullia.

Lucius went on
to inform him that Kyrene felt she needed to stay in Eirinia for a while until
“the atmosphere of evil alleviated.” Lucius said that Kyrene told him that
Marcus would understand what she meant, which was a relief, because he himself
had not a clue what she meant by such a statement.

This last
remark caught Marcus’ attention and held it. It was true that he
did
understand Kyrene’s statement and cause for concern. He remembered all too well
the presence of wickedness that pervaded that land prior to the coming of the
Alexandrians, and the account of Brenus’ death that he had heard from Dag.
Well, if Kyrene felt there was good cause to linger in Eirinia, then Lucius
could hardly be blamed for staying with her as he had only traveled with her to
offer his protection on the journey and would not return until she was ready to
leave.

He turned with
a sigh to the other letter from his daughter.

Felicia was
restrained in her tone, and that fact alone gave him a feeling of alarm. Never
at any time in her life had she refrained from making her feelings known about
anything. Yet now she spoke in guarded tones as if afraid that someone was
listening and might peer over her shoulder at the words she had written to her
father…

Valerium was
in the hands of the Emperor, she wrote. It was evident that he ruled. The
people of Potentus walked quietly. His old friend Dag had been installed as a
miracle man of some kind, following the incredible occurrence of having been
used by Dominio to raise Iacomus from the dead when he had suddenly fallen dead
to the ground. But of course her father would remember the dream she had nearly
two years ago. And now Iacomus was an Alexandrian, so zealous that he wished
all of Valerium to worship Dominio, and any who did not would be tried as a
heretic. This had already been put into effect, and she had witnessed the
burning of more than four hundred people who had insisted on celebrating Regat
as usual. But her father would know all about that, having been born and raised
in Valerium.

She closed the
letter with her good wishes for his health and that of her mother. If he had a
reply for this letter, she wished him to send it to the address of her
father-in-law, where she could be certain of receiving it without interruption
of service; he would understand how letters could sometimes go astray.

Marcus read
the letter through twice and divined its meaning, one that caused his body to
go cold with the horror of the reality now sweeping Valerium. What Felicia
could not openly put into words but wished her father to know was that the
Valeriun Empire had fallen into the ruthless control of Iacomus, who grasped it
in unbending hands of iron, and that the people walked softly for fear of
rousing his wrath. Dag was no doubt being detained against his will, a fact so
obvious that Felicia knew she need not elaborate on it.

And the true
meaning of the prophecy she had been given in the dream was now revealed:
Iacomus had literally been raised from the dead, and so the warning was clear.
Marcus recalled the mention of flames burning that blocked out the sun and saw
the mention of the four hundred heretics burning as the reference to the
flames. And Marcus would understand the reference to Regat the god of war, and
that it was now the Alexandrians who faced spiritual warfare as this madman
forced others to bow to Dominio or die. Even the injunction to send his reply
in care of her father-in-law’s address was a warning that if sent elsewhere it
could end up in other hands and never reach her. But no one would dare to
tamper with a message sent in care of the Minister of State.

And for the
life of him, Marcus could not decide which letter from which child grieved him
the most.

Although the
robins sang sweetly in the trees and the crocuses cast a mantle of bright
pastel glory in gardens still denuded of green vines, Nolwenn did not notice.
Her heart was filled with rage that blotted all else from her notice. Why, oh
why, hadn’t Maelys gone to Valerium with their mother and Brand?

It was bad
enough that Dirk remained behind to monitor her like a jailer confining a
prisoner left in his charge. But to have her older sister remain merely to
order her around and spy on her movements was unbearable! She knew that was the
only reason that Maelys stayed in Leith; she would have loved to go to the city
and see the sights!

Nolwenn had
just turned fifteen, and next month she could stand with the other maidens on
the Green at Spring Festival and receive flowers from the young men of the
village. The thought amused her greatly; Maelys would at last have competition
as the reigning beauty of Leith, and what a surprise that it should be from her
own sister!

It was true
that over the winter months Nolwenn had blossomed. She was small of stature
like her mother Judoc, but she had now acquired her figure, and her dark eyes
shimmered softly and her mane of dark brown hair flowed down her back with the
gloss of a filly running freely in the spring sunshine. She had noticed the
looks the young men had starting casting in her direction during their weekly
meetings to praise Dominio.

Dominio. The
thought of Him did not make her comfortable. She was as adamant in her feelings
as she had been last autumn when Dirk reprimanded her for skipping morning
prayer. She could not skip the weekly meetings; the entire village attended and
it would cause public shame to her parents were she to omit them. She had no
wish to participate in prayer in the privacy of the family, but she would not
shame her parents, whom she dearly loved.

She wondered
how they fared in Valerium. She had no desire to accompany her mother and Cort.
A great city such as Potentus would have only alarmed her with its noise and
crowding; she preferred the quiet and space of Eirinia with its green hills,
sparkling streams, and mysterious forests.

The thought of
Eirinia made her frown. It was true that lately it had lost its emerald green
luster, and had taken on a dull brown tint that looked like mud had cascaded
down upon it from a source unknown. The hills were brown, the streams were
muddy, and the forests held hidden danger…

Since the
incident with Erwan last summer, extra precautions had been taken by the
villagers. The young people were admonished to never travel alone, and never
after dark. For the night terrors had returned, and the village was afraid.

Nolwenn first
heard the news shortly after her mother and Cort left with the others for
Valerium. It had been a cloudy February day that was already turning balmy with
the mild air of spring when a visitor from Annick arrived to spend the day with
a few of the ladies of Leith. Neither of the villages was heavily populated and
there was much visiting back and forth between the ladies of both villages to
exchange news, help with spring cleaning, and to possibly make matches between
maidens from one village to young men from the other.

Nolwenn had
been present, as she was now fifteen and considered old enough to join the
village women in their activities. She did not miss the covert glances that the
visitor, whose name was Loana, cast on her; she knew the woman had a son only a
little older than she was and it was evident that the woman noted that fact
also. She inwardly shrugged: marriage was not something that interested her
yet, but she knew she would have to marry at some point, as that was woman’s
lot in life.

The women had
been exchanging the latest gossip of both villages, and Loana waited until her
hostesses were finished before imparting her news.

“Have you
heard anything of the night creatures returning?” she asked in hushed tones, as
if fearful of being heard beyond the confines of the four walls.

“Night
creatures? Do you mean those who walk by night?” asked a young woman who was
not much older than Maelys.

“Yes, that is
what I do mean,” Loana answered as she nodded her head vigorously.

“No,” Niamh
replied. “We have not heard anything of the sort.”

Loana started
to open her mouth, and then closed it abruptly. She looked around the room at
the faces that stared at her in frank curiosity, but said nothing.

“Why do you
ask?” Maelys inquired sharply.

Loana hesitated
for a moment, but noting the impatient air of Maelys she knew she had no course
open to her but to finish what she had started.

“Well, it was
three nights ago now, when my Pierrick was coming home after some night
fishing. I do not know why he likes to fish after the sun sets, yet he does,
and his father and I just let him do as he pleases. There is not much that does
please him so we are glad when he finds something he likes to do. It keeps him
busy, you see, and I can not abide a lazybones.”

Here Maelys
rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh of frustration. Nolwenn wished she would not
be so open about expressing her feelings, but Maelys never had much patience,
and it was clear that she found Loana’s recital tedious and wished her to get
on with it.

Loana must
have also caught the undercurrents for she suddenly picked up the pace of her
narrative and continued.

“So, he was
returning from his fishing I said, and he was not more than ten yards from the
wall of the village when he heard it.”

Loana cast a
glance at her listeners to gauge their reactions. Observing Maelys’ tightly
clamped lips, she hurried to finish.

“He heard it I
said; it was the sound of someone pacing back and forth, back and forth, right
in front of the village wall. But there was no one there that he could see. It
gave him a fright, I tell you. He froze, not knowing what to do, whether to go
forward to the village or to go back to the stream.”

Loana
shuddered, and suddenly the atmosphere of the room turned ice cold. Nolwenn
felt a chill go through her, and she saw the eyes of the women in the room
widen as they riveted their attention on their guest.

“And?” Maelys
prodded Loana. “What happened?”

“Well,
Pierrick took a deep breath to fortify himself you might say, and then he ran
to the wall and pounded on the door for the watchman to let him in. He did so,
and Pierrick told him what he heard. The watchman laughed at first, but then as
they stood there discussing this you might say, all of a sudden they heard a
boom! against the door after the watchman shut it. It gave them a fright I tell
you; and when they opened the door they saw no one. No one at all.”

The ladies of
Leith cast frightened glances at one another but said nothing. The unspoken
thought in the room was that the night creatures had not walked abroad in more
than twenty years, not since Dag Adalbart had arrived and banished every evil
spirit from the vicinity. Why had they returned?

It was two
nights later that Maelys and Kyrene strolled after the evening meal to enjoy
the fresh air after the confinement of the hut. She had desired a walk, and
before Lucius could volunteer to escort her, Kyrene intervened and said she
would love to spend some time with her. Lucius had no alternative but to remain
in the hut, but Kyrene was amused to see the sulky expression that came over
his handsome face. Her amusement quickly turned to concern when she mused on
the fact that there was probably no future for these two young people and she
earnestly hoped that neither of them would be hurt.

As she and
Maelys walked in companionable silence through the Green, Kyrene’s sense of
peace slowly evaporated, but why she did not know. There had been nothing to
upset her day, no outburst from Nolwenn against one of her siblings, no bad
news from Valerium to cause alarm: yet she felt a dread and an uneasiness
creeping over her.

She gradually
slowed down her pace, and Maelys was quick to note it. Kyrene’s ears picked up,
and she ceased walking altogether. Her hazel eyes widened and filled with fear
until she looked to Maelys like a doe that hears the approach of the hunter’s
steps and knows that it is only a matter of time before he finds her hiding
place…

“Kyrene?”

Kyrene raised
a finger to her lips, silencing her. She cocked her head to one side and leaned
her body forward. And then she spoke.

“Do you hear
it?” she whispered to Maelys.

At first
Maelys heard nothing. She strained to hear, leaning her body in the direction
that Kyrene did. Only then did she hear it.

Coming from
beyond the village wall, perhaps a dozen yards beyond it, came the sound of
footsteps; footsteps that paced slowly back and forth, back and forth.