Authors: L. M. Roth
Marcus stared
openly at Paulina, so great was his astonishment at her incredible statement.
Before he could stop himself, words that reflected his surprise burst from his
lips.
“He is your
relative?” his voice rose until it squeaked, and his stunned eyes met those of
his wife, whose mouth was open in a round o that revealed her incredulous
bewilderment.
Paulina
laughed at his confusion.
“Yes, Marcus,
he is. He is a sort of cousin to me. I did not know him until I was fifteen
years old; that is when he came to live in Seneca. He is several years older
than me, so we are not close, you see. But he is a fine man and shall make a
good Emperor. I am so eager to see him on the Imperial throne, and to dine at
the Palace!”
Paulina’s face
glowed with happiness, but as Marcus glanced around the table, he saw she was
utterly alone in her joy. Tullia’s face reflected her perplexity; it was
evident that Paulina’s relation to Iacomus only increased the mystery of his
identity in her eyes. Antonius was subdued, and stole glances at Felicia that
reflected his concern at her continued exile from her homeland. She returned
his glances just as furtively, her own betraying her anxiety at the thought of
a coming separation from her secret husband. Lucius looked silently at his
plate, obviously bearing the full weight of his guilt at the theft of Logos.
And the face
of Decimus Hadrianus was wiped clean of its usual smirk, a fact that to Marcus
was perhaps the biggest surprise of the evening. Indeed, his old foe appeared
to be studying the young people intently, carefully observing first the face of
his son, and then examining the countenance of his daughter-in-law. To Marcus,
it appeared that Decimus was struggling to come to a decision; perhaps
regarding the marriage between their children, and its possible dissolution? He
did not know for certain, but the eyes of Decimus were fastened on the young
couple in an intense meditation.
After a few
vain attempts to improve the atmosphere, Paulina decided to take shelter from
the clouds on the horizon and rose from her seat. It was the unspoken signal
given by the hostess that the meal was over, and the ladies were to congregate
in the family sitting room while the men lingered at the table to discuss affairs
of state.
On this
occasion, however, Tullia pleaded a headache and asked to be excused. She would
leave and send the carriage back for the others. Seeing the ashen tone of her
mother’s face, Felicia expressed concern and declared that she would accompany
her. She would wish to be there should her mother require anything, she
explained to her hostess.
Paulina was
touched at the girl’s thoughtfulness and graciously excused them both.
Lucius and
Antonius were considered old enough to discuss the affairs of the day and
remained at the table with their fathers. Marcus wondered wryly how openly they
could discuss anything with the new Minister of State present to overhear every
word that was said to report back to the Emperor. Such reservations did not deter
Antonius, however, who trusted his father and said what was on his heart.
“Is it true
that the Emperor will continue the ban on the Alexandrians, Father?”
Decimus was
clearly loathe to reply, whether it was because he was reluctant to alert
Marcus to further persecution of the Alexandrians, or to spare his son pain
Marcus was unclear. But Decimus took his time before replying. When at last he
did so, Marcus could sense that he held back information and told less than he
knew.
“I am not
sure, my son,” he answered at last. “I am only the Minister of State and do not
know all of the Emperor’s council.”
Antonius
puckered his brow and gazed at Decimus as if he would attempt to read his mind.
“And yet, I
must know; for if the Alexandrians are still forbidden to remain in Valerium, I
can not go there with you and Mother.”
Decimus nodded
his head slowly. He seemed absorbed in a train of thought of his own, and
paused before answering his son.
“Well, we do
not have to decide your plans tonight. Let us sleep on it and discuss it
further tomorrow.”
The remark
closed the evening and Marcus and Lucius bade them goodnight and left for home.
Two days later
Decimus called on Marcus again. Marcus would have been amused by the visits of
his old foe, had it not been for the subject matter of his visits. And there
was still the matter of Logos to be discussed.
“Well,
Decimus,” he said breezily as he greeted his guest, “what brings you to my door
today? Or do I know already?”
Marcus raised
one eyebrow and studied Decimus intently. Decimus looked uncomfortable but did
not hesitate to answer.
“I think you
know why I am here,” he said abruptly. “It is certainly not to make a friendly
call. There is the matter of our children to be decided. I leave next week and
we must decide what to do.”
He paused for
a moment and avoided looking directly at Marcus, fixing his attention on the
rolls of parchments in the library where Marcus had taken him to talk
privately. Decimus suddenly swallowed and turned his gaze back to his host.
“I am not taking
Antonius with me,” he said suddenly, the words spilling from him in a torrent
he could not stop. “It will not be safe for him in Valerium. I have spoken to
him, and he informed me that he has become an Alexandrian. I believe you are
responsible for that in a large part. I will not thank you for it; it will only
bring him pain and suffering in the long run.”
Decimus’ eyes
hardened as he said this last, and gave Marcus the full vehemence of his
animosity.
It is clear
that he hates me no less than I hate him, Marcus thought.
And he
reflected again on the irony of the cruel twist of fate that caused the son of
his old enemy to first befriend his son and then marry his daughter, forcing
the two men to be locked in one another’s company as cruelly as prisoners
locked in a dungeon cell.
“I merely
answered his questions about Alexandros, the decision was his alone to make,”
Marcus replied coolly. “And he had already asked my son about the Alexandrians
before he ever met me. And you are wrong; Antonius will be blessed far greater
than you in the long run. For you, Decimus, have stolen what is sacred to
Dominio and given it to a man of evil. And you will never know a moment of
happiness or peace until you correct the wrong you have done.”
Decimus first
flushed and then paled as Marcus addressed him. That he had succeeded in
angering him was soon clear enough.
“Sacred? A
sword?” Decimus snickered. “I fail to see how an inanimate object has any
magical properties. I never believed it when my mother sacrificed to the gods,
nor do I believe it when my son prattles on about a sword that does strange
things. Nothing is sacred: we are on our own in this world. That is all there
is to it.”
This statement
was uttered with such a finality that Marcus knew he would be wasting his time
to try to speak of Alexandros and His love for mankind. And in his heart, he
did not know whether he could honestly share that message with the man who had
caused him so much pain. He knew such a thought would not please Dominio, Who
loved Decimus in spite of his sins and longed to embrace him as a son, but
there it was.
“No matter
what you believe, Decimus, the fact is that you stole that Sword from my son,
in some manner that is still unknown to us, and gave it to someone who has no
legitimate claim to it or valid use for it.”
Marcus now
glared at Decimus with rising anger. He felt his face burning and his breath
coming harder as he defied his rival. He felt his chest expanding and wondered
that he did not explode with his pent up fury at all the wrongs this man had
inflicted on him over the years. Decimus, surprisingly enough, did not
retaliate or flinch at Marcus’ words.
“I only did
what Iacomus demanded of me,” he answered.
Marcus was not
sure that he had heard right.
“What he
demanded
of you? Did you not take the Sword on your own to spite me, knowing it was all
I had left of my legacy, and give it to the man who betrayed the Alexandrians
by bringing persecution on them? After all,
you
knew of the Sword from
your son, who told you all about it!”
Decimus shook
his head and gave Marcus a look that was utterly devoid of mockery or anger.
“No. Antonius
told me nothing of the sword. Iacomus knew about the sword from the time he
spent in Valerium. Do you not remember? He told me that you consulted it at
meetings. And he wanted that sword. He said it was the most powerful weapon the
Alexandrians had against the Empire and he wanted it out of their hands.”
Marcus gasped.
A hideous thought so alarming came to his mind that he feared putting it into
words. Yet he had to ask…
“You say that
he wanted to take it from the Alexandrians because he considered it a weapon
against the Empire? Do you mean that he planned to murder Emperor Urbanus and
take his place? The Sword was taken weeks before the Emperor died; and once
Iacomus had the Sword, Urbanus passed on and Iacomus was declared the new
Emperor!”
Marcus watched
as the mouth of Decimus fell open and the color drained from his face.
“No,” he
mumbled, “no, that is not true! He just wanted to deprive the Alexandrians of
power against the Empire. He said they pledged allegiance to a higher power and
he did not want them to use the sword against Valerium.”
Decimus
suddenly struggled for breath and he rose to his feet abruptly. Marcus rose to
his feet in the same instant and he locked eyes with his adversary.
“He did not
murder anyone!” Decimus shouted, and then realized what he had done.
“No,” he
stated as he lowered his voice. “Iacomus did not kill anyone. And I took the
sword only because it was the condition he demanded in return for making me his
Minister of State when he succeeded Urbanus.”
“So he
did
murder Urbanus!” Marcus pounced on the words. “How else could Iacomus promise
to make you Minister of State unless he planned to kill him and knew the end
was near? Did you not think of that, Decimus? Do I need to paint a picture to
make it clear to you?”
Decimus stared
at Marcus with bewildered eyes. He appeared deprived of the power of speech.
But he stubbornly clung to his own belief.
“I do not
believe that! He is my wife’s cousin. Were it not for him, I should not have a
wife at all. It was he who brought us together, who persuaded her parents to
welcome me into the family as their son.”
His lips
twisted bitterly as he remembered, a fact that Marcus observed in surprise.
This time he did not interrupt with accusations, but waited for Decimus to go
on.
“Yes, were it
not for him I should not have a wife at all. Iacomus and I were boys together,
grew up together, shared everything together. We laughed at the same jokes, and
loved to play pranks on others. But he disgraced his family and was exiled from
Lycenium when we were eighteen. I did not see him again for five years; after I
was disgraced and driven from Lycenium.”
Decimus’ green
eyes darkened until they glittered like black jet, and a shadow crossed his
face. For a long moment he seemed unaware of Marcus completely as he revisited
his past.
“My family
went to Seneca for two years, and there I met Iacomus again. He was thought to
be dead, because that is what his family wished to believe. Yes, just kill him
off and remove that embarrassment from the family completely. But he was not
dead: he lived on.
“He introduced
me to his cousin, Paulina. She was not of the class of young ladies that I was
accustomed to. Her father was not an aristocrat, although her mother’s
background was patrician. Her father was merely a grower of fruit, and he sold
the lemons and oranges that grew in his orchards. He was wealthy, but no
refinement there. Not from him, nor his daughter. Still, my family informed me
that she was the best I could expect after…”
Here his words
trailed off as he seemed jolted back into the present.
After what he
did to Tullia and Felix that made him an outcast in Lycenium society, Marcus
finished for him.
Decimus
recovered from his momentary introspection and continued.
“Well, I have
Antonius at any rate,” he said softly.
He broke off
his reminiscences and turned his attention back to Marcus.
“And that
brings us back to our problem. I am leaving for Valerium next week and Antonius
must stay here for his own safety. We must decide what to do about his
marriage.”
Marcus
groaned. How cruel was fate to force such a hateful decision on him. Yet he
could no longer avoid giving Decimus an answer.
“I have
discussed it with Tullia,” he sighed, “and she also sees the sense of leaving
the marriage intact. She fears the stain on Felicia’s reputation should she go
through a divorce, as well as the difficulty of finding another husband for her
as a result of the scandal. I will not lie: she would rather her daughter be
married to anyone else, but she will not fight it, nor sue for a divorce.”