Authors: L. M. Roth
Dag entered
the borders of Valerium through the same garrisoned wall that Marcus had
slipped through only weeks before. The guard was intensified since his old
friend had passed this way, but Dag did not know that. Nor that the antics of
his old friend had largely been responsible for the doubled guard.
July was now
bestowing its heat in full, and Dag suffered accordingly. Long accustomed to
the colder climate of Trekur Lende he did not fare well in warm weather. Thanks
to the ocean breezes in Eirinia the land was more temperate and he had adjusted
to life there with little difficulty. Now, however, the sun beat down from
overhead and a lazy somnolence appeared to have settled on the land, making
even the guards yawn with a sudden stupor.
As he thought
of Eirinia, Dag wondered how his family fared there. That the state of affairs
he left behind there was dire he knew full well. What would become of Melisande
once the child was borne? How could he or his wife bear her continued presence
after her most recent action? It was true that they had no proof of her attempt
on Dag’s life, yet no other explanation was possible.
He reflected
back on his conversation with his wife a few days after the family dinner that
had distressed them all so deeply.
“It had to be
her, Dag,” Judoc insisted. “I questioned Nolwenn and she admitted that she
called at Melisande’s hut and mentioned the healing potion she bought from
Yuna, the wise woman. And that she left Melisande to fetch cold water for her.
She had the opportunity.”
Here she
paused and wetted her lips nervously before proceeding.
“And Dirk told
me he called on Yuna to try to wheedle some information out of her. And she
told him of her own accord that Melisande is very helpful to her, bringing
herbs to her when she gathers her own for stew, and has been taking instruction
from her on which herbs are medicinal and which ones poisonous. It had to be
Melisande, I tell you.”
Dag frowned
uncertainly, reluctant to believe evil of anyone. Yet he had never trusted
Brenus’ wife, and in view of her family background she had the motive to do Dag
some harm; and the malice of will to do the deed.
He had not
questioned Melisande, though his wife and son urged him to take action. He
thought of the coming baby and wished to do nothing that might harm the child
or cause his daughter-in-law to lose it. When all was said and done, this was
still the child of his wife’s eldest son, and the only reminder they would ever
have of their dear Brenus…
He thought it
best to remove himself for a while, until the charged atmosphere had cooled
down, and to give Melisande a calm environment to focus on the pending birth of
the child. Perhaps if the source of her antagonism was absent, she might be
able to improve her relationship with Judoc and they could be of solace to one
another. He knew that not only did Judoc grieve for the loss of her son, but
now she was bereft of Cort, who had left them so abruptly, and his mother Brit,
who was such a dear companion.
Dag wondered
at the wisdom of his action in leaving her at such a time, but he comforted
himself with the thought that Judoc still had Dirk and their eldest daughter
Maelys to cheer her in her time of mourning, and to depend on should she need
help with the younger children. And Dirk would be on the alert for any further
trouble on the part of Melisande. As for Maelys, he knew that she had never
liked Melisande, and would be as vigilant as her brother in watching for signs
of impending danger from that quarter.
Dag paused in
his recollections to consider his eldest daughter. Maelys was likely going to
be a cause of concern at some time in the near future. She was tall and
stately, with a loveliness that outshone all of the other village maidens, and
eclipsed her younger sister Nolwenn, who was undeniably pretty, but would never
be the beauty her sister was. Already there were young men who vied for her
favor, and she seemed both pleased and annoyed by their attention. That she
would be pleased Dag had expected: but he also at times detected her rolling
her eyes or sighing when some young man from the village paid her a compliment
or asked to walk with her through the village green in the evening.
One evening
shortly before Cort departed, he decided to take a walk with her himself to
satisfy his curiosity in the matter. She had willingly accompanied him, taking
his arm and linking it affectionately through her own. As they meandered down
the narrow dirt path that comprised the main street of the village,
encountering small children playing until the last possible moment in the warm summer
air, Dag’s unspoken question was answered before he even asked it by a chance
meeting with one of the many young men who clamored for his daughter’s
attention.
“Good evening,
Maelys,” said Tomos, the son of the village carpenter. “A fair one it is, too!”
He smilingly
blushed as he bowed to her, his eyes lighting at the sight of her fair face.
Maelys returned the smile briefly and wished him good-night.
When Tomos was
gone from their sight she permitted herself the luxury of a sigh.
“Why did you
do that?” Dag inquired.
Maelys merely
sighed again and shrugged her shoulders.
“He is just
like all of the others,” she answered. “All the same, all alike. In all the
village not a one is different from the other.”
“And what does
that mean, daughter?” Dag asked as he turned around to face her.
Maelys
puckered her lips slightly and frowned as if deep in thought. She appeared to
be searching for words to give vent to her frustration before she answered his
question.
“Well,” she
began in a low voice, drawling out her words in her attempts at concentration.
“All of them speak of the same things: the crops and spring sowing, the summer
and the harvest, and whether the day will have rain or be fair. That is really
all they ever speak of, Father. And I find it unbearably dull at times, that I
do. I just wish that at least one of them could talk of other things, exciting
things, things that would interest me: for I must admit that they bore me to
tears.”
And Maelys
gave a sigh even deeper than the previous one. Dag found himself amused, yet
understood her frustration at being forced to listen to the same dull remarks
repeatedly, with no hope of escaping their certain repetition.
“Do you know
what I should like to do, Father?” Maelys turned to him with sparkling eyes. “I
should like to see something of the world, that I would! I would like to travel
to Lycenium, for Cort has told me much of it, and see the bazaar full of goods
from all over the world, and the plays in the amphitheater, and listen to
glorious music that is heard nowhere else! He told me so, and I have never
known Cort to lie, so Lycenium must be truly sublime! Is it, Father? You
visited there yourself, although many years ago.”
Dag smiled at
her indulgently; ah, the need of the young for excitement and change! He could
not fault Maelys, for it was true that in Eirinia, as in his own homeland of
Trekur Lende, nothing really happened of any note. One day passed much as
another and for one who thrived on excitement as she did, life could be an
exercise in boredom at times. He privately wondered if this was not the real
reason she goaded Melisande at times, simply to stir things up and watch the
sparks fly to enjoy a brief moment of drama and relief from the tedium of
everyday life.
Now, however,
he simply attempted to answer her eager questions.
“Yah, Lycenium
is a grand city. I spent many happy hours in the library, which housed so many
great works. Cort preferred the plays in the amphitheater. And the music is
like none heard elsewhere: Cort did not tease you about that!”
Maelys’ lovely
face took on a yearning expression that touched her father’s heart. He had been
so content in Eirinia all these years that it never occurred to him that other
members of the family were not so satisfied. Even Cort, who loved adventure,
had never complained of the confinement of life in this lonely village. Yet Dag
realized that he craved the experience of seeing new places at times. It was
understandable as he had traveled extensively with Dag and Marcus Maximus as a
small boy. But for his daughter who had been born and raised in Eirinia to feel
that boredom was something he had never taken into account.
“Perhaps,” he
said to her now, “after the harvest is in I shall go to Lycenium and visit my
old friend Marcus, and you can accompany me. It would do you some good to see
something of the world. But we must approve this with your mother, and she is
too distraught to worry with such a matter now.”
Maelys clapped
her hands together and bestowed a radiant smile on Dag.
“Oh, Father!
That would be all I could ask, too wonderful for words! To see something beyond
these endless hills and woods and the sea mist. They are lovely, it is true,
but I yearn to see a city, a real city, a great city!”
And she flung
her arms around Dag and embraced him tightly.
So lost was he
in his recollections that Dag failed to notice the approach of the two guards
who now accosted him, pointing their swords at him at arm’s length.
“State your
business! Who are you, and what brings you to Valerium?” one of them barked in
a metallic voice that rang of steely resolve.
Dag was not
perturbed: he had nothing to hide, and therefore nothing to fear.
“I am a
citizen of Eirinia, and I wish to spend some time in Potentus,” he stated
simply.
“For what
purpose,” the guard snapped at him.
“No purpose
except as a change from my land, which is naught but hills and sheep, and hills
and sheep, and more hills and sheep.”
And Dag beamed
a smile of dazzling innocence upon the guards. He hoped that would suffice, but
the words of the guard proved how false that hope was.
“We will give
you a change from your land alright,” the steely voiced one snarled. “No one is
to enter or leave Valerium without the express permission of our exalted
sovereign, Emperor Iacomus. You are under arrest and will be a guest in the
royal dungeon, there to await the pleasure of His Grace, whether to release you
or detain you at his will.”
Cort decided
it was of no further use to remain in Valerium. In fact, it would be most advisable
for him to remove himself, along with his wife and mother, from the precincts
of the Empire completely in view of the advent to power of Iacomus Cornelius
and his evil henchman, Decimus Hadrianus. But where they would journey to next
was a puzzle whose solution eluded him.
He could not
return to Eirinia, that he knew only too well. The last person he wished to see
was Melisande, always watching him with sidelong glances, stalking him for
opportunities to catch him alone. And the malice she bore Siv did not bode well
for warm family relations between the sisters-in-law.
He missed Dag
and Judoc, and longed to hear their voices once more, Dag’s so deep and
booming, full of a robust vitality, and Judoc’s light and lilting and so ready
to burst into song as she bustled busily around the hut. He wondered how his
siblings fared: was Dirk ready to stand with his father once more against Niamh
and the other villagers in their attempts to take the villagers back to their
old ways if need be? How like their father Dirk was in appearance! With his
great height and broad shoulders he towered over other men, just as Dag still
did. And how proud Cort was of this brother who was so quickly growing into a
man!
He wondered
how Maelys got on without the companionship of Siv. Maelys had always been
close to their younger sister Nolwenn, but the coming of Melisande had brought
strain between them, as Nolwenn promptly attached herself to their new
sister-in-law while Maelys loathed even the sight of her. The tension between
them at times was more than Cort could bear to watch as he sensed that Nolwenn
was in some way pulled between them. How much trouble Melisande had brought on
the family! He asked himself again how Brenus had ever been so taken in by this
woman who had revealed nothing of her origins or her family.
As for his
young brother Brand, Cort did not worry about him. Brand was a dreamer, but
gentle of manner and easy of temper. Nothing ever upset his calm temperament,
or induced him to take sides when the rest of the family quarreled, it being a
distinction of the Eirini people to wrangle, violently and often. Brand,
however, had inherited his father’s stoic nature; like Dag and Cort, he was a
true Trekur Lender.
The one worry
Cort had gnawing at him was what would happen with the people of Leith. The
villagers had shown unexpected rebellion at Spring Festival, and he wondered
how far they would take it. Would Niamh and her sister Enora succeed in turning
their hearts away from Dominio, and spreading the kingdom of Alexandros? Would
they succeed in luring the villagers back into idolatry?
He decided to
take a solitary walk in order to seek Dominio and His will regarding where he
was to go next. As he strolled through the streets of Potentus he became aware
of a new current pulsing beneath the surface of Valerium’s capital: the
citizenry, one and all, bore an identical look of fear and uncertainty. Cort
saw the furtive glances, heard the voices lowered to whispers, felt the sense
of being carried along on a tide of foreboding. And he thought he understood
why.
In all of the
Empire’s history, never had it found itself in the position it now faced.
Always before there had been an heir of the ruler, known to the populace, who
gave a reasonable expectation of what fate awaited the people after the
sovereign’s demise. Never before had there been an Emperor without a son or
daughter or close kin who would assume the duties of governing upon his death:
but Urbanus was the last of his line. And Iacomus Cornelius was a man already
feared by the men of the city, and one they deemed untrustworthy. What would
befall the Valerian people once he had assumed power?
And what would
ultimately become of the Alexandrians, already prohibited from practicing their
faith by the late Emperor Urbanus? How much would matters deteriorate further
under Iacomus, the wolf in sheep’s clothing who betrayed them?
At last as
Cort ambled through the city he found his steps had taken him to the port. As
he stood gazing on the great ships that were sent out through the Empire’s vast
domain to transact her business, and bring back her goods from afar, he felt a
tugging in his spirit to a particular one. He thought at first that he only
imagined it, but the feeling persisted.
A sleek craft
that was somewhat smaller than the passenger ships but larger than the fishing
vessels caught his attention. There was nothing particularly unusual about it
that it should have captured his fancy, yet he was drawn to it.
That one, he
heard a small voice whisper in his ear. Take that one, and I will guide you to
your destination.
A feeling of
peace swept through him as he heard these words. He knew that Dominio spoke in
many ways, and sometimes Cort did actually hear a voice, faint though it was.
He was certain that in this instance, he was being divinely guided to the next
step of his journey, although he had not the slightest idea where that journey
would take him, or even where to begin.
He hastened
back to the inn where Siv and his mother awaited him, and informed them of his
decision. Without the least bit of hesitation they agreed to board the ship
with him and let it take them where it was bound. Cort had inquired of the
harbor master and discovered it was a merchant ship that would stop at many
ports of call and take on the goods that Valerium required to ensure the
satisfaction of its ruling class: textiles, spices, fine glassware and pottery.
It was a fair
July day when they set out for a destination unknown. The gulls escorted them
from the harbor, the white sails caught the breeze and expanded like a fleet of
clouds in a summer sky, and the water before them was deep and hinted of
mystery and adventure ahead. In spite of his circumstances Cort felt a thrill
at heading for sea once more and all of the new lands that waited for them at
the ports of call. Siv came to stand by his side, and as they clasped their
hands together he saw the sparkle in her eyes and knew she would share in the
delights of the voyage ahead.
It was only
later that he would declare how differently he would have felt had he known
that his father had been taken prisoner by the new Emperor the day after he
left Potentus.