Authors: L. M. Roth
Lucius pulled
the Sword out of its sheath. He paused for a moment to marvel at the sheer
beauty of it, glistening with the silvery sheen of a moon in autumn. Truly it
was a thing of glory!
Then he
presented it to Antonius, who lay in his sickbed. The other boy shared his
sense of awe as he looked upon Logos.
“Oh, how
beautiful!” he whispered. “I have never in my life seen anything so lovely!
Never! It is a marvel, Lucius; truly a marvel!”
“Yes, and one
day it shall be mine,” Lucius boasted.
He took the
Sword and swished it through the air as if in battle. It flashed as it
whooshed! in an arc around him.
Antonius
suddenly grew uncomfortable.
“But, didn’t
you tell me that Logos must never be used in violence, Lucius? So why are you
pretending to use it as a weapon in warfare?”
Lucius stopped
suddenly and lowered the Sword.
“Yes, that is
true, but the thought of using it as a weapon is exciting you must admit,
Antonius. Did you ever see another sword as magnificent as Logos?”
“No, never,”
Antonius agreed. “But it must be treated with reverence, if everything you tell
me about it is true.”
“Of course,
it’s true!” Lucius huffed. “Do you think I would make up such a story: Logos
has unusual gifts, I tell you.”
“Show me,”
Antonius said eagerly. “I would love to behold the marvel of its gifts!”
“Alright,”
Lucius agreed. “Ask Logos a question. And watch the blade very closely.”
Antonius
pondered for a long moment. He wanted to ask something profound and not treat
the sacred object as some plaything. In truth, Lucius’ treatment of the Sword
made him distinctly uncomfortable.
At last he
thought of something.
He opened his
mouth to inquire, only to close it abruptly. After all, how did one address an
inanimate object?
He took a deep
breath to steady himself.
“Logos,” he
asked in a hushed tone. “What is Dominio’s purpose for my life?”
The Sword lay
inert in the hands of Lucius. Then a faint gleam slowly began to emanate from
its blade, banishing all shadows from the room. Words appeared in a silver
script.
“You shall
love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind,” it
stated.
Both of the
young men gasped. Antonius glowed with excitement and Lucius abandoned his
usual offhand indifference to share in his friend’s enthusiasm.
“It is a
miracle!” Antonius breathed.
“Ask it
another question,” Lucius urged him.
“Logos, what
is the wisest advice you would give us to live by?” Antonius addressed the
Sword.
Words appeared
once again on the blade.
“God is not
mocked.”
Suddenly the
game was no longer amusing, and Lucius hastened to shove the Sword back into
its sheath. Antonius breathed hard as his eyes widened in fear.
“We should not
have played such a game with the Sword, Lucius. It is a holy object and we have
treated it as an amusement!”
Lucius would
not admit even to himself that he felt a twinge of fear when those last words
appeared on the blade. He shrugged his shoulders as though unconcerned.
“Not to worry,
Antonius,” he assured his friend.
A thought
struck him that he thought would placate the other boy.
“I say: why
don’t you keep Logos with you tonight? As I am staying with you for a few days,
I see no harm in it. And its presence might even heal you of your ailment.”
It was true
that Antonius’ illness had not abated, but continued to plague him and confined
him to bed.
“It is
tempting,” Antonius admitted. “But how did you take the Sword without your
father noticing that it was missing?”
Lucius
laughed.
“Father and
Mother are both too upset right now to notice much of what goes on around them.
Ever since Felicia ran away she is their one thought and concern. I was able to
take Logos from his room when they were in one of their councils in the
library.”
A shadow
touched his face: Lucius was genuinely fond of his younger sister and was
tremendously worried about her safety himself. Was she alright?
“Keep it with
you tonight and perhaps you shall be restored to full health in the morning!”
Antonius
agreed, and they parted for the night.
The next day
Antonius did feel stronger when he woke, and they decided to take a turn around
the garden so he could breathe some fresh air. Before they left his room Lucius
returned Logos to his knapsack and they strode outdoors.
Antonius
exulted in the scent of the fresh blooms and the song of the birds and his
heart lightened. He laughed frequently and for no reason as he reveled in the
beauty of the spring day. The mere return of sunshine and fair skies was enough
to banish all care, he declared.
It was two
nights later that Lucius returned home. As he entered his Grandmother’s house
he was met by his mother who informed him that Marcus had booked passage on a
ship to Eirinia. They were certain they would find Felicia there and he would
drag her back bodily if necessary to Lycenium.
Lucius was
relieved that there was some inkling at least of where to search for his
sister. He spent an hour with Tullia listening to her frustrations with her
wayward daughter before they adjourned to the dining room for the evening meal.
They had some guests
that night who joined them for dinner, Maurus Fabius and his wife Ursula, a
couple who was unknown to Lucius. They were acquaintances that Drusilla had
made and she considered them important people for the Maximus family to know.
Here we go
again, Lucius rolled his eyes. Two more of Grandmother’s pet people to
cultivate in her climb up the social ladder. The Fabius’ did not particularly
interest him, Maurus being an aristocrat whose indulgence at the table betrayed
itself in a portly build and reddened complexion. Ursula was slim and elegant,
with a voice as smooth as satin that relayed the latest scandals of Lycenium
society for Drusilla’s entertainment.
The weather
turned suddenly and a storm blew up as was not unusual in the Mountains of
Moldiva. So fierce was it that Drusilla suggested her guests spend the night
rather than venturing into the torrent of rain and the blistering gales of
wind. They gratefully accepted her gracious offer of hospitality and the
household retired to bed for the night.
The next
morning Lucius decided to go for an early morning walk and ambled around the
garden for an hour or so before returning to the villa for breakfast. As he
roamed among the roses and carnations that were now in full bloom he paused to
savor the wonder of spring. What a miracle, its return every year, refreshing
the heart after the long bleakness of winter.
Their guests
had already left without breaking their fast, Tullia informed him when he
inquired of their whereabouts. Some pressing business did not permit them to
remain and they left about ten minutes ago. They were not remaining in Lycenium
but heading for Golida, they had said.
Lucius
shrugged indifferently and talked of nothing of consequence throughout the
meal. Drusilla joined them and he was amused at her breathless account of how
clever their new friends were, and how flattered she was at their attention.
Close friends of the Hadrianus family, she said, and therefore highly
respectable.
He did not
miss the way his mother’s face flinched when Drusilla mentioned the Hadrianus
family. Still, he kept his peace and just nodded here and there to fool his
grandmother into thinking he was actually listening.
After the meal
was over, he went to his room. He had just remembered that he had not unpacked
his knapsack from his return of the day before, and he wanted to return Logos
to his father’s hiding place at the first opportunity, preferably when his
mother went to call on friends for the day.
He opened the
door of his room and took the knapsack from the table where he had flung it
down after his arrival the day before. He opened it and pulled his robes off of
the top of the stack where he had placed them to hide the sheath where Logos
lay hidden.
Lucius stared
in disbelief. He wondered if he was still asleep and having a terrible dream.
It could not be,
he thought in dismay. It
can
not be!
The robes were
pulled aside. But there was no sheath.
And Logos, the
fabulous Sword given to his father that must never be used in violence, was
missing.
Copyright 2013
© L. M. Roth
All Rights
Reserved
Preface
Laig appeared
uncomfortable suddenly and hesitated. He threw a glance over his shoulder;
seeing that they had not been followed he continued.
“I mean this:
no one has ever been found with an expression like was found on his face, with
no mark on them, no explanation for what took the life of them. For though some
have left the path and not returned, none have been found off the path dead,
and with no reason for their demise.”
He lowered his
voice and glanced at the ground to avoid the question in Dag’s eyes.
“And?” Dag
prompted him to go on.
“The Tuadan:
he must have encountered the Tuadan. For it is clear that something frightened
him to death, and that mound had once been one of the sites of their rituals.”
“The Tuadan
were cast out of their places long ago,” Dag reminded Laig in a voice so stern
that it startled him.
“Yes, yes, I
know: I said the same to myself when I found his body. But the smell of evil
was in that place where we found him. An evil I remembered as a boy. For I
know; I had an encounter myself once, in that very spot. Long ago it was, yet I
remember it well. Indeed, it would be impossible to forget!”
And Laig
shuddered and passed his face across his hand. He closed his eyes for a moment,
and then raised his head to look at Dag.
“I was
seventeen, and walking in the woods one May evening, very much like this one. I
had gone to visit a friend in Annick and cut through the woods for a shortcut.
It had been a fine day, and the air was full of birdsong, something I always
missed in the winter months and noticed in the spring.
“As I wandered
along I disregarded the warnings to stay to the path. Oh, I had been told many
times not to stray from it, but the grass was so green and I took off my shoes
to feel it between my toes as I walked through it. I recall laughing for pure
joy and spinning around, very silly I know, but I was only a youth.
“As I spun
around I suddenly became aware that the birds had stopped singing. Just like that;
one minute singing their songs, the next complete silence. I had an eerie
feeling come over me, and realized there was no sound of anything else in the
spot. Do you know how many sounds are to be heard in the woods, Dag? Birds
singing, rabbits rustling through the grass, squirrels leaping through the
trees, making the branches creak beneath them, twigs snapping as deer leap and
descend. There was nothing,
nothing
I tell you!
“And then, I
heard it. A footstep. And another. Right behind me. I turned and looked. There
was no one there. But I saw something that nearly frightened the life out of
me. The grass, Dag. The grass suddenly fell beneath an unseen step; the same
step that was following me.
“I did not
wait to see who was there but ran as fast as I could back to the path. For once
I was on the path I would be safe; that is what I had always been told, and to
the path I flew. I tore out of that place as fast as I could, never looking
behind me to see what followed, all the way until I was safely out of the
woods.
“And
he
was found in that very spot. And even as a boy, he tried to leave the path to
explore beyond. And if you were to ask me, it was leaving the path this time
that killed him.
“Because in my
heart, I know he had an encounter with the Tuadan, and whatever he saw scared
the life right out of him.”
Table of Contents
A MAN OF IMPORTANCE
A GHOST FROM THE PAST