Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (52 page)

They were
instantly sobered by Bimo’s words. It was true. The furious villagers would let
none of them live after they had unmasked Diono as an impotent counterfeit, and
not a god at all.

Marcus turned
to Bimo.

“What of you,
my friend?” he inquired with anxious eyes. “We cannot leave you here or they
will kill you.”

“That I know
well,” Bimo nodded his head in agreement. “Yet, I do not know where I will go.”

“Come with us
and journey a while,” Felix suggested on impulse. “It may be that Dominio will
reveal to you what you are to do, even as we travel.”

This was
quickly agreed on as good counsel, and they carried their boat out of the cave
and to the water’s edge. They stowed themselves quickly, thankful that their
provisions and clothing were still in them due to the haste of their capture.
There would be some food for the voyage, as well as clean clothes for all.

Before they
departed, Marcus clutched Logos to him, relieved to be reunited with the Sword
after so many days of separation from it. He removed it from its scabbard to
assure himself it was still there. Faintly, words etched themselves on its
gleaming blade:

“Dominio will
not share His glory with another;” followed by “Our God is a consuming fire.”

Marcus and the
others puzzled over the meaning of these words. It was Felix who provided the
answer.

“When Intami
called on Diono to grant them life, it was one of the Astra who answered her,
in the desire to receive adoration. Being evil, however, it took Intami
herself, and not merely her offering. Dominio would not tolerate her worship to
the false god, and when the mountain rumbled and caved in beneath her, He did
not protect her because she called on one who was not God. Had He saved her at
that moment, it would have appeared that Diono saved her, since it was he that
she called on.”

They pondered
these words in a grave silence.

“He is holy,”
Felix said, nodding his head to affirm his own words. “We must never forget
that.”

The current
carried them north again. Soon they left the hot sultry weather behind and
encountered cooler air, although still warm in the fullness of August. With
sunny skies and calm waters they continued their journey at the leading of Zoe.

As they sailed
along they spoke much of Alexandros to Bimo, and further instructed him as they
had been taught at the feet of Xenon. He was a bright pupil, and continually
amazed Marcus with his quick grasp of principles that he himself had struggled
to comprehend. Whereas Marcus had to discard so many beliefs from his own
culture that had hindered him from fully understanding the teachings of
Alexandros, it was as though Bimo’s brain was a fertile ground, ready to
receive the seed that would be planted deep to produce a bountiful harvest of
the fruit of Dominio’s Spirit.

The days
passed pleasantly until they spied cliffs on the horizon. They drew nearer and
saw a glint of gleaming white towering ahead of them.

“Marcus,”
Felix exclaimed. “Look! The Cliffs of Albinium! We are back in the boundaries
of Valerium!”

Marcus
rejoiced also, until a sudden thought sobered him quickly. He still needed to
obtain one more object for the fulfillment of his quest, and doubted that it
would be found here.

For Albinium
was a mere outpost in the Valeriun Empire. It existed purely as a resort for
the wealthy that flocked to its shores to escape the heat of the cities. All
summer long it rang with the laughter of children, and paid host to those who
came to sail her waters as a pleasant pastime, and dine on the fish caught
fresh every morning.

It lacked the
culture and refinement of Lycenium. Surely it had no secrets to reveal, for all
was frank and open; a place merely to unwind from the pressures of Empire life
and to enjoy simpler pleasures.

Still, Marcus
reflected to himself, they were in the outpost of the Empire, and that much
closer to home.

They stowed
the boat at the pier along the marina, and gazed up at the pristine cliffs,
famous in Valerium for their dazzling purity.

“Oh, how good it
is to feel land again!” Cort exclaimed. “I want to run! I want to jump and race
in circles!”

“Well, do not
do that here,” Felix advised him. “Otherwise the inhabitants will recognize you
for the little barbarian that you are!”

Dag scowled at
Felix, and Cort turned a puzzled glance at him. Felix laughed and gave Cort a
friendly punch in the arm.

“It was only a
jest!” he assured Cort, whose frown quickly relaxed into a smile of relief.
“But I do advise you to restrain yourself, for the citizens are rather sedate,
and you may astound them with such behavior.”

“Such
astounding may do some of them good,” Marcus commented as he lifted an eyebrow.
“But I agree with Felix that we must do nothing to draw attention to ourselves.
Therefore, let us proceed with some caution.”

They sought an
inn where they could seek shelter from the coming of nightfall; for the day had
sped along and the white cliffs were now touched with the rose and gold of the
setting sun. The fishermen were bringing in their boats for the evening, as
were those who had been sailing for the enjoyment of it, and weary children
were reluctantly joining their parents and ceasing in their play on the beach.
A breeze rippled in the air, sending a pleasant shiver down the spine. Soon the
heat of summer would end, as the first hint of autumn chilled the descending
twilight.

After a brief
search they quickly found lodgings in one of the humbler inns that accommodated
the ordinary citizenry, and not the more ornate establishments that catered to
the whims of the wealthier patrons. Marcus and Felix hoped that rooms were
available, but they were quickly assured that there were plenty to spare, as
some of their guests were leaving with the advent of cooler weather looming in
the next few days.

After a
delicious meal of fish fried to perfection and loaves of bread newly baked,
accompanied by crisp apples and hearty cheese, they bade each other a goodnight
and went to their rooms in hope of a good sleep under the shelter of a roof.

The next
morning Marcus woke with the dawn and lay still, not wanting to disturb Felix
or Bimo, who still lay in the arms of slumber. Dag and Cort occupied the room
next to theirs, and Kyrene and Elena shared one further down the corridor.

As Marcus lay
quietly he pondered on the events of their journey thus far. Four objects, the
Empress had commanded. Bring back four objects that she desired to procure the
freedom of his parents. Three he had found: the Fountain of Youth, a star from
the sky, and the Rays of the Sun. Could it be that Zoe led them to Albinium to
find the secret of life? Or was that to be found elsewhere?

Marcus decided
that he was too restless for slumber, and that a walk along the shore would be
just the remedy to revive him. He inched carefully out of his bed, and swiftly
dressed in the dark, having laid his clothes by the bed the night before.
Silently he crept out of the bedchamber and down the stairs to the floor below.
He nodded good morning to the heavy-eyed proprietor who was stoking the fire in
the common room for the comfort of early risers.

Marcus found
the refreshing breezes along the shore exactly what his spirit had craved. He
suddenly felt as one with the pounding surf and felt for the first time that he
understood the rhythm of their ebb and flow, the compulsion to fling itself
upon the shore, only to be cast away, back into the sea. Abruptly he realized
that he was weary of the constant travel and close company of even his friends.
How good it was to enjoy solitude! Just himself, the sea waves crashing on the
coast, the cry of gulls, and the awareness of the presence of Dominio, there
with him always.

Marcus lifted
his arms above his head and softly sang a song of praise.

“The Lord is
my rock and my redeemer,” Marcus breathed, “in Him I put my trust. For He
pulled me out of mighty waters, out of the pit where I had fallen, with none to
help me. He has shown me His love and steadfast kindness, and all my ways are
known to Him.”

For several
minutes he lost awareness of everything except the warmth and softness of the
presence of Dominio, who seemed to have enveloped Marcus in a soothing embrace.
Marcus stood still and let the waves of love roll down over him, washing away
care and sorrow.

Then, feeling
the sense of helplessness he did as a small boy after attempting something too
big for him, Marcus inquired of Dominio.

“Where to now,
Lord?” he asked. “Where is the end of my quest? Is it here? Or elsewhere? Where
may I find the secret of life?”

It occurred to
him that perhaps Logos might tell him the answer. With that thought in mind,
Marcus ambled over to one of the large boulders that were strewn about the
rugged shore, and slipping behind it, carefully drew the Sword from the
scabbard hidden beneath his robe.

He ran his
hands lovingly over the hilt, admiring the beauty of its silver sheen. Then he
spoke.

“Logos,” he
whispered, “where is it? What is the secret of life?”

But Logos lay
quietly in his hand and was still.

Marcus started
to walk back to the inn, his head down and his heart suddenly heavy, his
earlier joy forgotten in his sense of frustration. Would it always be like
this, he wondered? Ever wandering, ever seeking, with no place to call home, no
one to wait for him upon his return?

So rapt in his
thoughts was he that he was unaware that his solitude had been invaded. An
exclamation tore him out of his reverie, and he started at the sight of his
intruder.

It was
Governor Urbanus.

The older man stopped
abruptly at the sight of Marcus. Clearly, he also was surprised at the
unexpected encounter. Then his face split into the broad and radiant grin that
Marcus remembered so well.

“Ho, my young
friend!” Urbanus cried as he clapped a hand on Marcus’ shoulder.

It was the
closest that the men of the Valeriun Empire came to an embrace, and Marcus
recognized it as a sign of affection, which pleased and gratified him. He was
just as delighted to see the older man, and remembered his warm hospitality in
Gaudereaux. He asked after Renata, the Governor’s gracious and elegant wife.

“She is well,
very well,” Urbanus nodded. “She is with me here on a brief respite from the
heat of Gaudereaux. Indeed, we begin our journey back tomorrow. She is still
abed, but I desired one last morning stroll along the beach, so you see me
here.”

Urbanus
laughed for no apparent reason that Marcus could see, but recalled the
Governor’s free and easy manner, so full of joy and life, and smiled in return.
They talked of events in Gaudereaux, and Urbanus related that Fanchon had wed
the son of her father’s oldest friend. It was a match much talked of for some
years until the maiden met Dag, and the previous match was spurned by the
flighty young lady. Yet she did not seem happy, even shirking the company of
others on occasion to seek solitude, and was given to blue moods at times,
unlike the Fanchon of old, always so full of merriment and ready to dance.

Marcus
privately wondered whether Fanchon regretted breaking the betrothal to Dag, or
if she felt remorse for renouncing Dominio to revert to her former way of life.
Either way, he reflected, she made a terrible mistake, and chose what had no
lasting value.

He decided to
keep the news of Fanchon to himself, rather than to remind Dag of his faithless
intended.

Urbanus in
return asked Marcus how he came to be in Albinium.

“And what of
your friends, hey?” he inquired. “Those two rough Northerners, and Master
Felix? Did he perchance attach himself to the young lady from Solone who
accompanied you?”

Marcus had
forgotten that Urbanus was a bit of a gossip, but forgave him knowing that it
stemmed from a genuine love of people and the desire to see their affairs
happily settled.

“I see you are
still a matchmaker, Governor Urbanus,” Marcus chuckled. “No, Felix and Kyrene
are merely good friends.”

He resisted
the temptation to remark that he himself wondered why the two did not become
more than friends, but decided Felix would not like him gossiping about his
affairs with anyone, let alone a mere acquaintance such as Urbanus. Once Marcus
would have thought the daughter of a merchant beneath the station of someone
from the house of Lucius; but he had changed in the year just past, and found
himself astonished and dismayed at what a snob he once was.

Urbanus shook
his head.

“Well, I
suppose they must decide,” he commented, “though I must say they seem to be
more than good friends. Perhaps one of them is reluctant to take that
irrevocable step, eh?”

Marcus felt
annoyed by the Governor’s persistence. Really, there were some matters that
should be deemed private and left alone!

But Urbanus
seemed oblivious to irritation. Indeed, he seemed merely inspired to continue
his observation on personal affairs. Marcus found himself searching for a
polite excuse to detach himself from the Governor’s company, when his next
remark riveted Marcus to the spot where he stood.

“Oh, but I
almost forgot to tell you!” Urbanus exclaimed. “I have news of a friend of
yours. At least, I assume she is a friend of yours,” his eyes twinkled with
mischief.

Marcus
stiffened as he waited for Urbanus to impart his information.

“Yes,” he said
politely, one eyebrow raised to signify his waning patience.

But the
gesture did not deter Urbanus.

“Why, the
daughter of Tullios Octavius!” he said.

Marcus felt
his heart skip a beat at the mention of Tullia. Did even the thought of her
still have an effect on him? Yes, it did…

He steeled
himself to answer Urbanus calmly.

“Tullia?” he
queried, struggling with the effort to appear indifferent and unconcerned. “You
have news of Tullia?”

“Yes, in a
manner of speaking. I do. And I do not,” Urbanus answered, somewhat
enigmatically.

What mystery
was this, Marcus wondered. Did the older man merely desire to tantalize him in
order to make his gossip more palatable?

Marcus flung
off his annoyance and shrugged his shoulders. How he loathed it when people
attempted to drag out their news merely to build suspense, instead of getting
to the heart of the matter!

“Be plain,
man,” he snapped with some impatience. “Tell me what you mean!”

He glanced at
Urbanus, expecting to see the familiar sparkle in his eye. He was surprised to
see the older man gazing off into the horizon, a frown of puzzlement creasing
his brow.

Marcus
suddenly felt an ominous sense of foreboding, increased by the momentary
darkening of the sun as a cloud obscured it from view. A wave rolled in and
slapped at his ankles. He did not even feel the cold wetness as he hung on the
words of the Governor.

Urbanus at
last turned from the horizon and his quiet contemplation of it and looked
directly at Marcus. He cleared his throat, and then proceeded to relate his
tale.

“Last summer,
as you may recall,” he began, “I told you of a possible betrothal between
Tullia Octavius and Decimus Hadrianus. They were constantly in one another’s
company, and everyone in Lycenium expected an announcement to be made of their
forthcoming marriage.”

Urbanus
paused, much to the frustration of Marcus. Why must Urbanus ramble on about
matters that made Marcus cringe to listen to, yet hold back on matters of vital
importance to him!

“Go on,”
Marcus urged. “Did they make the betrothal? Why do you hesitate?”

“I hesitate,”
Urbanus continued, “because I am uncertain how to proceed. No one knows what
happened. As I said, an announcement was expected, old Drusilla Octavius was
already purchasing the bridal finery, and Gerontius Hadrianus was said to be
haggling with his old friend Tullios about the terms of the dowry.”

A gull
shrieked overhead, causing Marcus to start so violently that he bit his tongue.
Tears of pain smarted in his eyes, and the tang of salt on the sea breeze
intensified them.

He brushed it
off, and his eyes pleaded mutely with Urbanus to continue.

The Governor
resumed his discourse, although he now appeared to fumble for his words.
Finally, he sighed and spoke in a voice hardly louder than a whisper.

“And then one
day about a month ago a mystery occurred. Tullios returned to Valerium on an
urgent matter of business, leaving Drusilla in Lycenium with their daughter,
nor was there any move on her part to prepare to leave for Valerium anytime
soon. It was assumed by her delay in departure that she remained to chaperone
the young couple in the custom of our people.

“But on a
perfect summer day, when their friends waited for the betrothal to be
announced, and a date for the wedding set, young Tullia went for an afternoon
stroll in the woods without the accompaniment of her maids.”

Urbanus paused
and breathed deeply.

“And she has
not been seen since.”