Authors: L. M. Roth
Lucius stared
with growing disbelief at his knapsack. It could not be; it was impossible! But
alas! it was true: Logos, the fabulous Sword that was his father’s legacy to
him, was gone.
So stunned was
he at the discovery that for an agonizing moment, he could not even breathe. He
swayed on his feet, dizzy from the shock. He sat down abruptly on his bed and
put his head between his hands to steady himself.
How could this
have happened? Desperately he tried to remember the trail of events of the last
few days. He had spent two nights with Antonius before going home. On his
return, he had spent an hour with his mother, then joined her and his
grandmother for dinner with their guests, Maurus and Ursula Fabius. He had
risen early and taken a walk for an hour or so before breaking his fast with
his mother, who informed him that their guests had already left due to some
pressing business.
Lucius drew in
his breath sharply. The thought that just entered his mind was too incredible
for belief; yet no other explanation was possible. The Fabius’ were strangers:
what did they know of them? Nothing, was the answer. Could it be? Had they
taken Logos for some reason unknown to Lucius? There would have been time while
he was ambling around in the garden and his mother and grandmother would have
been below stairs preparing to break their fast.
But what
possible motive would these strangers have for taking Logos?
Lucius steeled
himself for the interview with his mother. He toyed with the thought of hiding
the theft and solving the mystery himself, but he needed more information about
their guests and his questions would most certainly alert Tullia to the fact
that something was wrong. He also knew that he would have to leave the villa to
follow them and he would have to give a reasonable explanation for his abrupt
departure following his return home.
He decided
that the sooner he started on his journey the quicker he would find them.
Bearing this in mind, he left his room and searched for his mother. He found
Tullia at ease in her sitting room, going through some correspondence that
needed answering. She glanced up when she heard her son’s footsteps, and a look
of alarm crossed her face when she beheld his desperate expression that
suddenly aged his face by years.
“Lucius!
Whatever is the matter?” she cried out. “You are as pale as a ghost!”
Lucius tried
to bear up, but at her words he suddenly dissolved into unmanly tears. His chin
quivered as he attempted to recover himself. He took a deep breath, and after
filling his lungs with air he flung himself down in the chair just opposite
Tullia.
“Mother,” he
began, with a tremor in his voice, “I have to confess something. Something most
awful that I have done. And now the consequences may be dire indeed.”
Tullia’s eyes
widened in apprehension. Lucius was not accustomed to confessing to any
wrongdoing; he was usually caught after committing some misdeed, or
inadvertently betraying himself, but never had he confessed before being found
out. This fact warned her that what was coming must be grave indeed.
“What is it,
my son?” she asked soothingly, hoping to calm him. “I am listening; go on.”
Lucius looked
at the floor for what seemed an eternity. It seemed that he was granted a
reprieve the longer he kept the theft to himself. But as the enormity of what
had happened sank into his consciousness, he knew that every second of delay
meant the loss of Logos forever. He at last raised his eyes to his mother’s.
“It is Logos,
Mother,” he stated in a hard and brittle voice. “I borrowed it, to show it to
Antonius. He has been so sick, you know, and I thought it would cheer him. And
it did, it truly did! I intended to return Logos to Father’s hiding place, and
no one would be the wiser that I borrowed it.”
He paused a
moment and glanced at Tullia. She suddenly paled as if she sensed what was
coming. She peered deeply into her son’s eyes as if questioning him, and found
the answer she dreaded to hear.
“And Logos is
missing? Is that what you wish to confess, Lucius?” she asked in a voice barely
above a whisper.
Lucius could
not speak: he nodded his head almost imperceptibly as though he could not bear
to put the fact into words.
Tullia moaned
and hung her head; she put her hands in front of her with palms placed together
in an attitude of prayer. Then she raised her eyes and looked at her son with
eyes full of pain.
“Your father’s
legacy,” she intoned. “All he has left. And it’s gone.”
Lucius wanted
to sink beneath the floor and never have to face her again. Didn’t he feel
badly enough already without her censure?
“How can this
be, Lucius? When did you leave the Sword alone?” Tullia queried him in a tone
grown strident with rising anxiety.
Suddenly she
rose from her seat and pulled him from his own.
“We can not
just sit here: we must find out where it is. When did you last see it?’
“When I showed
it to Antonius,” he answered.
He thought it
best not to tell his mother that he had permitted Antonius to sleep with the
Sword. That would have only fueled the fire of the anger he felt building
within her.
“And then?”
she barked in a voice totally unlike her usual modulated tones.
“I did not
look for it until this morning after I strolled in the garden. I went to my
room to return it to Father’s hiding place: that is when I discovered it was
missing.”
Tullia looked
at him searchingly, and seemed deep in thought. Her eyes widened suddenly and
she gasped.
“Can it be?
The Fabius’? For they were in a hurry to take leave of us, not even pausing to
break their fast this morning. What business could have been as urgent as
that?”
“I had that
same thought, Mother. It seems they had the opportunity, but what is the
motive? Why did they suddenly call on us last night and rush off this morning?
Is that not peculiar behavior?”
“Well, they
did not intend to spend the night, Lucius. They only stayed because the storm
was so violent that we thought it best to offer them shelter. And it does seem
they would have had no motive; only the opportunity. In truth, I know nothing
about them. Your grandmother invited them to dine; perhaps we should ask her
what she knows of them.”
Tullia turned
abruptly to the door, and Lucius hurried in her wake. She took the steps to the
upper floor two at a time, alerting Lucius to the urgency of the situation in
her eyes. Always had he seen his mother walk with the dignity and grace of a
swan, never hurrying, and always mindful of being a lady. Now no such thought
entered her mind, he could tell. She had one thought only, and that was to find
the Sword that was her husband’s legacy.
“Mother,” she
exclaimed as she threw open the door of Drusilla’s room without her customary
knock of courtesy.
Drusilla had
retired there after breaking her fast and was reading a letter from an old
friend. She started violently at the sound of the door banging against the
wall, and jumped to her feet at the sight of her daughter’s face.
“What ails
you, daughter? You look like a general about to march into battle. Have I not
taught you to move and speak with the dignity of a lady?”
Tullia shook
her head impatiently and pulled up a chair by her mother’s side.
“There is no
time for lecturing me, Mother. I need you to tell me what you know about the
Fabius’ who were our guests. Where did you meet them? Why did you invite them
last night? What is their history?”
“Gracious,
Tullia! Calm yourself; there is no need to ask three questions at once!” a
flustered Drusilla answered her.
She took one
look at her daughter’s countenance and for the first time became aware that
something was dreadfully wrong.
“I met them a
few weeks ago at a banquet given by an old friend of mine. They seemed very
cordial and considering how prominent they are, good people to become
acquainted with. As to their history, they have not been in Lycenium for some
years and only lately returned after living in Golida. Maurus has business
there, but met Ursula in Lycenium many years ago when he came on holiday.
“She grew up
here, you know, Tullia. I recall her when she was a young woman. Do you not
remember her?”
Tullia
wrinkled her forehead in thought: nothing came to mind of a young Ursula.
“No, I am
sorry, Mother. I do not remember her,” she replied, shaking her head
abstractedly.
Suddenly, her
head darted up and she drew a sharp breath.
“No wait! I
do
remember her now. She and I were in different circles socially because she was
the daughter of a textile merchant, and as such we did not mingle with the same
people. But I suddenly remembered something that a friend of mine told me: she
said that when word got around that Decimus was courting me, a lot of young
maidens were disappointed because they all wanted to wed the Governor’s son.”
Tullia paused
and looked full into Drusilla’s face, staring at her as though she would bore
holes in her very being.
“But it was
also said that there was one maiden who was absolutely furious about our coming
betrothal because she thought Decimus was courting
her
. He had been
meeting her in secret with no honorable intentions, as it turned out. And that
maiden was Ursula Celsus, who swore that one day she would repay those who had
insulted her.”
Drusilla
gasped at her daughter’s statement.
“I had not
heard that!” she exclaimed in accents of horror. “
I
recall Ursula: it
was her father that I patronized for fabric and I saw her a few times. She was
a very attractive young maiden, well-mannered too, and I thought it a pity that
she was relegated to the status of a merchant’s daughter. And then she met
Maurus who did not care a whit about her social inferiority. But that took
place after you married and moved to Potentus, so I suppose you may never have
heard about it.”
“And it would
seem that she at last has had an opportunity for her revenge!” Tullia burst out
as her face grew red with fury.
Lucius had
never seen her so irate, and was glad that her anger had shifted from him to
another. Then a thought struck him, and the horror of it took his breath away.
“What is it,
Lucius?” Tullia asked, as she heard him gasp.
Lucius stared
at her with open mouth and eyes opened wider still. He shook his head, so
horrified that words failed him. Yet he knew that time was slipping away…
“It is just
this, Mother: how did Ursula know about Logos? She is a stranger to us. Even
those outside of the Alexandrian circle have never heard mention of the Sword.
So, how could she possibly know?” his voice trailed off and he stared into
space, his stomach threatening to heave violently under the strain of his
shock.
Tullia seemed
struck with the same realization.
“No, it can
not be,” she breathed. “I will not believe that of Antonius! He seems such a
gentle boy. Ursula could only know if she had been told, and the only one who
could have told her would be Antonius!”
“Or his
father,” Lucius hastened to assure her. “It is possible that Antonius said
something to his father, and Decimus told Ursula.”
Tullia gazed
at her son as though looking through him. She pondered for a moment.
“And if
Decimus told Ursula, it must be with some vile purpose in mind,” she nodded her
head abstractedly.
She suddenly
rose to her feet so quickly that Lucius involuntarily stood as well.
“We must go to
the Hadrianus villa at once and insist that Decimus return the Sword,” she said
with a decisive air that settled the matter.
“Yes, we must
go at once,” Lucius agreed.
At the House
of Hadrianus, they were informed that the master had left the evening before on
an urgent matter. Tullia did not believe this, and insisted on seeing Paulina
at once.
Paulina
entered the atrium with her soft, ingratiating smile and bade them be seated.
Tullia bit her lip as the urgency of the situation did not permit the polite exchange
of greetings that would be customary. She forced herself to smile and be seated
as she fished around for information about Decimus.
“Good day,
Paulina,” she began. “I wish to thank you for your hospitality to Lucius. He
enjoyed his stay very much. And how is dear Antonius? Is he improved?”
“Oh, yes, he
is very much improved,” Paulina answered. “He was able to break his fast with
me this morning instead of staying in his room. He is resting now, but getting
stronger by the moment, I’m certain.”
“He broke his
fast with
you
?” Tullia asked with a deceptively casual air. “Is his
father not at home?”
“No, he had to
leave late yesterday afternoon quite suddenly. He has an uncle who was taken
ill and he wished to see him as the doctors say his condition is very grave.”
“Oh, I am
sorry to hear that,” Tullia soothed. “And did he take a long journey? Where
does his uncle live?”
“I have never
met his uncle so I am not certain of the exact location, but he lives in
Lucerna, somewhere in the Mountains at the eastern edge of the Empire.”
As they left
the villa, Tullia and Lucius conferred.
“It can not be
Decimus,” Lucius remarked. “For there would not have been time for Ursula to
take Logos and give it to him if he left yesterday afternoon for Lucerna.”
“So it would
seem,” Tullia agreed. “Yet why would Ursula wish to take Logos? She can have no
possible reason for wanting the Sword.”
Lucius
pondered for a moment, and then an idea seemed to give the answer to the
puzzle.
“I have it!
Ursula was angry because Decimus wished to marry you, and she swore to get her
revenge. Is it possible that she heard you are back in Lycenium because of the
persecution in Valerium? Is it possible that someone told her of Logos, and how
it is the only possession of any value left to your husband, the man you jilted
Decimus for?”
Tullia looked
unseeingly ahead of her with the blank stare of one who walks in their sleep.
Lucius waited for what seemed an eternity for her to speak.
“I do not
know,” she whispered, as she shook her head.
Despair seemed
written in every line of her face.
“But I do know
we can not sit here doing nothing. Decimus left before the Sword was missing;
therefore it can not be him behind the theft. Ursula is the only other person
who might have a motive for taking it. So, we must hasten to follow her and
Maurus to Golida. It is possible that we shall find the answer there.”
She nodded her
head firmly, her mind made up at last.
“But we must
hurry, my son. There is not a moment to lose if we wish to find your father’s Sword.”