Authors: L. M. Roth
The boat
sailed on and as the voyage continued Felicia felt an increasing sense of
freedom. The experience in Florindia had heartened her with the response of the
women to the Good News. Now if only Dominio would send someone to help with the
work there!
On the third
day at sea the waters grew choppy and the rhythm of the boat became rough,
making standing difficult. Felicia nearly slipped and fell when a rogue wave
slopped over the aft deck and soaked it as she stood admiring the view. She was
drenched by the spray of water and gasped at the suddenness of the shower. Then
she laughed and shook out her wet robe. Only at sea could such an occurrence
take place; how she loved having her own adventure at last!
A shout from
the mast caught her attention as the lookout shouted for the Captain. What now,
she wondered. Was a storm coming on that would hamper their travel?
Suddenly the
boat began to turn around. It took an easterly course, and Felicia could now
see a small island on the horizon. The boat made for it with all speed, and in
very little time arrived at its shore.
They pulled
into a rocky cove where they dropped anchor and lay at rest. The sun was
setting and night would be upon them; the Captain announced that they would
remain here for the night. Felicia looked behind her in the direction from
which they had come and saw that there were dark clouds rolling in that seemed
to chase the last vestiges of the sunset before it. It was well that they would
not have to sail at the height of the storm.
She retired to
her cabin for the night, but sleep came with difficulty, awakened periodically
by the boom of the thunder and the onslaught of waves that dashed the side of
the boat. When she at last fell asleep she was troubled by a dream…
She was standing
in a swirl of mist so thick that she could barely see her hand in front of her.
Around her was a wail that seemed to penetrate into her very soul. She covered
her ears with her hands, but the sound persisted. She walked through the mist,
and a shape rose up before her. As she neared it, she saw that it was a grassy
mound of perfect symmetry, too perfect to have been created by nature.
A fear came on
her, and her heart pounded as beads of sweat trickled down her body, soaking
her robe. The wail grew louder and another shape took form in front of her. The
shape appeared to be walking toward her, out of the mound, and as it drew
closer she became aware of a sense of menace directed personally at her.
She woke
abruptly and stifled a scream. The dream had been so real: was it a warning of
some kind? One of those portents of impending danger?
Sunlight
streamed through her portal, and she saw the sun had risen high already. She
judged it to be about nine o’clock, later than the time she usually rose. Like
her father, she savored the morning and hated to waste any of it abed.
She dressed
rapidly and stumbled out of her cabin to ascend to the deck. The crew was
preparing to take up the anchor and return to sea, when a disturbance caught
Felicia’s attention. What was that, just at the water’s edge and making for
their boat?
Her question
was soon answered by a commotion among the crew as they scrambled to the side
to hoist up the anchor. Too late: they were even now being boarded by pirates.
Pirates!
Felicia thought in horror. And she was the only female on board, having taken a
cargo ship as it was the earliest vessel leaving the Isles of Solone on the
morning she left. She had been treated with great respect by the Captain and
the crew, having been left alone by them for the most part. But pirates!
The fearsome
brigands overran the small vessel, killing the lookout who had descended from
the crow’s nest, and overpowered the crew. The Captain was still above in his
quarters, and one look at what was happening below alerted him to the dire
situation.
Felicia could
see him assessing the state of affairs, and caught his signal not to betray
him. She saw him slip out the door of his quarters to creep down to his men,
but gave no hint that she had seen him. The pirates forced the crew into a
huddle and barked orders to them.
Felicia
wondered if she could reach the trap door to her cabin below unseen. The crew
stood between her and it; she tried to squeeze herself into invisibility against
the aft deck, looking furtively for a spare sail or tarpaulin to hide under.
None presented themselves.
At last she
was spied by a ruffian who sneered at the sight of her. Following the direction
of his gaze, the pirate chief stopped in mid-sentence and laughed. He swaggered
toward Felicia, who tried to still the beating of her heart which threatened to
leap out of her throat.
I must not let
them see my fear, she thought. Or it is all over for me.
She drew
herself erectly to face the oncoming pirate. He stood before her and sized her
up from head to foot. His amusement only increased as he noted her youth and
lack of poise.
Please,
Dominio, she prayed silently. Protect me! If this is punishment for running
away I accept it and repent, but please protect me!
“Well, what
have we here?” the pirate jeered. “A little wren among the crows, I’ll swear!
Now, I wonder what it would take to make it sing! Shall I try, little wren?”
He reached out
a hand to touch Felicia, but a sense of outrage swept over her, eradicating her
fear.
How dare he!
Faster than
she could think, she flashed up a hand in front of herself.
“Do not dare
touch me, ruffian!” she exclaimed. “If you do it is at your own peril!”
Where these
words came from she had no idea. But no sooner did they leave her lips than
what looked like a flame of fire leapt from her fingertips, scorching the
outstretched hand of the pirate chief. He gave a yelp of pain and grabbed it
with his other hand, cradling it to his stomach as he bent over in agony.
“Water!” he
shouted. “Water for the flame!”
His stunned
men stood with open mouths at the sight of their leader writhing in the pain
inflicted by one who was still little more than a schoolgirl. An obliging
brigand flung a bucket over the side of the boat and collected water which he
flung over their beseeching leader. After his drenching the captain gasped and
looked at the injured hand: it was already blistering.
He turned to
Felicia with fear in his eyes. His insolence had dropped from him as completely
as the leaves of autumn are stripped from the trees in a high wind, leaving
nothing but a barren frame.
“What are you,
some kind of a witch? Fire shot out from your hand; I swear it did! Mine is
completely covered in blisters!”
Felicia was as
astounded as any of them, but knew that Dominio had heard her and answered her
prayer.
“No, I am not
a witch,” she smiled in triumph. “Let us just say that I am highly favored with
Dominio, the One true God. He it is who sent the fire that burned you, in order
to protect me.”
She turned to
the rest of the brigands.
“And any other
who would attempt the same with me shall get likewise.”
She looked
upon their ashen faces now devoid of any insolence.
“I would
suggest for the sake of your health that you do not even try.”
So much did
the pirates fear Felicia that they disembarked from the ship and left the cove
as quickly as their legs could carry them. She laughed at the sight and
promptly went to the crew and loosed their bonds, in which task she was joined
by the Captain. The grateful men had witnessed the entire incident, and they
became extremely solicitous and asked what could be done to obtain her comfort
for the rest of the voyage.
Felicia merely
laughed as a sudden joy rose up within her, and replied that she was perfectly
comfortable. But she informed the crew that the sooner they could get her off
of this island and away from the pirates the better she would like it.
One day passed
into another as the ship carries them westward. Felicia savored every moment
aboard, particularly enjoying the breathtaking sunrises that seemed to creep up
on her; the quiet of the lingering remains of night was overtaken by a rosy
glow that emanated from the east and overpowered the darkness. No less
spectacular were the sunsets that shuttered the ending of each day with a
curtain of orange and purple that descended with a swiftness that took one by
surprise as the great flaming orb descended below the horizon and plunged the
vista into velvety blackness.
She spent the
lazy days aboard with her store of scrolls she had accumulated while in Solone.
She had not only studied intently the teachings of Alexandros, but had also
purchased from the local merchants a number of old parchments that related the
history of the Isles and the knowledge of its scholars that had once brought
the world to its shores in search of the same. She kept these hidden from
Kyrene, not certain what her mentor would think of this store of knowledge; but
Felicia felt in her heart that she should acquaint herself with the beliefs of
various people and cultures that she might better understand them.
Now as the sea
currents carried them swiftly to their destination she studied intently the
history of the Oracle at Ephilene, who claimed to speak for Lopponios, the god
of Light. Called the
Sybillia,
she would go into a trance and speak what seemed like gibberish, which she
might or might not interpret. Those who journeyed to hear from the Oracle were
permitted to ask one question only of her, so reverently did they approach her
in her role of spokesperson for Lopponios. For nearly a thousand years pilgrims
came from all over the known world to seek her wisdom, bringing gifts of meat
and bread. It was only the advent of the Valeriun Empire that crushed the cult
as the Army threw the prophetess and the priests out into the streets to beg
for their daily bread.
Felicia
reviewed some of the prophecies that had been spoken, and was surprised to see
that some had been remarkably accurate in their fulfillment. How can that be,
she wondered? For these were false prophetesses serving vain idols: how could
they possibly have that kind of power?
She suddenly
remembered something that Kyrene had said in class one day. Leon and the Astra,
she said, had tremendous power before their fall from Heaven. And he still has
partial knowledge of many things, so it should come as no surprise if someone
speaking through the spirit of the Astra had a prophecy that came to pass. The
way to detect whether a prophet was from Dominio or Leon, she instructed, was
to determine whether they recognized Alexandros as the Son of God. The Astra
would deny Him, and that would betray what spirit they were of.
So deep in her
pondering was she that she was startled by a sudden thump coming from the prow
of the ship. She looked up from her parchments and saw that they had come into
the port of a small island while she had read. She jumped up from her seat and
peered at the shoreline.
The island was
not more than a few miles in circumference, but it had golden sand on the
beach, lush palm trees that swayed gently in the mild breeze, and rich splashes
of vibrant color dotted their branches as tropical birds nested in them. She
saw no huts or houses along the beach, but a cluster of trees set back from the
shore sheltered a small village that was visible from the ship.
The
inhabitants had set up stalls to sell their wares along the coast. The scent of
fresh fruit wafted to her nostrils, but not of any kind that she was familiar
with. The aroma kindled her appetite, and she decided to go ashore and explore.
As she
strolled along and nibbled at what she was told was papaya, she aimlessly
explored the wares at the stalls. A young girl who sold handmade and somewhat
primitive looking jewelry eagerly attempted to engage her interest. Felicia
smiled at her kindly, but jewelry didn’t truly interest her. The girl
importuned, and she relented, thinking perhaps she could buy something that she
could present as a peace offering to her mother.
Nothing that
would appeal to Tullia, she decided. Just trinkets carved of shell or bone; no
gemstones or pearls wrought in gold or silver. She was about to walk away when
her eye was caught by a small ring of white shell. She picked it up and
examined it.
How pretty!
she thought. It was just a little too large for her finger, but she was
suddenly taken with it. It was carved from mother of pearl, and was twisted
into a braid of three strands forming a circle.
“I will buy
that ring,” she informed the girl in the Common Tongue.
The girl’s
face brightened and she thanked Felicia effusively. What a kindness to buy her
wares! For she sold what she could to help the aged parents of her mother, and
visitors to the island were a gift from Dominio.
Felicia
gasped and turned back to her, just as she was starting to walk away.
“Did you say
Dominio?” she asked, so surprised that her voice rose higher and higher until
it squeaked.