Authors: L. M. Roth
Decimus stared
intently at Marcus, a twinge of pain appeared to stab him as he heard Marcus
relate the words of Tullia. But he did not refer to them.
“And you?” he
jeered, with an attempt at recovering his bravado. “You feel the same I
suppose?”
Marcus
snorted.
“Of course!”
he retorted.
Then he
relented.
“But I do like
Antonius very much. Indeed, I would have nothing against him were he the son of
any other man. And it is also clear that he loves my daughter: I will not press
for a divorce.”
Decimus
appeared strangely relieved, for some reason that Marcus could not fathom.
“I shall not
press it either,” he said to Marcus’ surprise. “After seeing the two of them
together, it would be cruel to separate them.”
He looked at
Marcus almost shyly.
“I also like
your daughter,” he admitted, as a slight smile lighted his face. “She is…sweet;
and pure. Also a lady, and therefore no grounds for a divorce. She is a wife
for my son to be proud of. And I would not deprive him of what I never had.”
The bitter
look crossed his face again, and Marcus turned to him in surprise. He
momentarily put aside his hatred for this man, and was curious enough to ask
for enlightenment on his last statement.
“And what is
that, Decimus? What is it that you would not deprive him of?”
Decimus stared
at Marcus with every appearance of genuine surprise at his incomprehension, but
answered him simply.
“The woman he
loves.”
Decimus and
Paulina departed five days later. It was decided that in their absence,
Antonius would remain in their villa, but he would not be alone. Felicia moved
in with him the day they left.
The two sets
of parents published the news of the marriage through the usual agency: they
paid the messengers who congregated in the city square to read the scroll
announcing the marriage, and then placed the announcement in the Hall of
Government Records where all marriages, births, and deaths were proclaimed
publicly.
That this
marriage was different in the fact that it was announced only after it had
already taken place instead of the usual betrothal preceding it was not as much
a surprise to the worthy matrons of Lycenium as was the parties involved. The
daughter of Marcus Maximus and the son of Decimus Hadrianus! Gossip ran
rampantly from one end of the city to the other. So shocking was it that no one
could even take any malicious delight from it; for had not these two men been
enemies for decades? What cruel joke of the gods brought their children
together in matrimony?
For Tullia it
was not a matter for gossip or innuendo. She knew the ladies of Lycenium were
all agog, but for once she did not care what they said. She was so relieved at
being rid of the presence of Decimus for a while, perhaps years! that she did
not greatly care what was said behind her back.
And just as
were the feelings of Marcus and Decimus, her feelings were mixed. She had to
admit that if Antonius had been the son of any other man she would have had no
objection against him, and would have rejoiced at seeing Felicia so happily
settled. And she could not be angry with a daughter who had not an inkling of
the pain and torment her new husband’s father had brought upon her own parents.
If she were to ever find out…
Suddenly
Tullia was determined that Felicia never find out. She must never know, she
thought, anything that would turn her against the parents of her husband. For
that was her family now, and not her birth family, and Tullia wished her to be
happy, even if the price of her happiness was total ignorance of what she had
married into.
Lucius alone
was completely happy for the bridal couple. Antonius was his best friend, and
he was proud and pleased to now call him brother. Felicia would make him happy,
he knew, because she did not care about the usual trivialities that consumed
the young ladies of Lycenium and with which Antonius had so little patience.
Indeed, both his sister and brother-in-law were already making plans that might
have caused some tricky complications for Valerium’s new Minister of State had
he but known it…
Felicia sighed
in utter contentment. She was so happy to have her future finally settled. She
could both please her mother by having married a fine young man, and satisfy
her own longing to serve Dominio.
It was
Antonius who made the suggestion.
“Look,
Felicia,” he said as they sat together on the stone bench in his mother’s herb
garden one warm August evening, where they liked to sit and smell the herbs
while absorbing the last rays of sunlight. “We have all of this space at our
disposal. The villa has more rooms than I can count, and we are blessed with
all of the gardens besides: there is the herb garden, the rose garden, the
spring garden with the lilies and tulips, and the green garden with the
trailing vines. We can not possibly use every inch of its space, and I hate to
see it wasted in a mere display of wealth.”
Felicia gave
him her full attention and waited eagerly for him to continue. Antonius’ own
gaze was fastened on the vista before him and he had the appearance of a
visionary looking at something that only he could see.
“And?” she
nudged his elbow gently, and he laughed.
“Oh, I am
sorry,” he exclaimed.
They both
chuckled and suddenly placed their faces together as they looked into the eyes
of the other. Felicia put her hand up to Antonius’ cheek and stroked it softly.
He turned his face slightly to kiss her fingers. How wonderful it was to have
their relationship openly known at last! How delightful to be free to proclaim
their love and no longer hide it!
“You were
saying?” Felicia teased her husband as he caught her finger in his mouth.
Antonius let
her finger go and returned to his plans.
“I propose,
dear wife, that we utilize some of this extra space. What do you say to asking
your Aunt Kyrene to come to Lycenium for a season and teach the Alexandrians
here as she does in Solone? She could stay with us, and bring any of her pupils
that she wishes; it would be an adventure for them as well as a refreshment for
her.
“What do you
say, wife? Shall we do it?”
Felicia’s eyes
could not have popped open any wider than they did at her husband’s suggestion.
“Oh, I should
love it! And I long to see Aunt Kyrene again. I feel so awful at the way I
treated her. I sent her a letter but that is not the same as speaking in
person.”
Felicia hung
her head momentarily as she recalled the way she had abused the hospitality of
her mentor by running away while under her protection. She hoped that Kyrene
had truly forgiven her, and did not remember her young pupil with bitterness.
“Let us do it,
Antonius. Let us write her at once. It would be a way to utilize this space and
to give them a change of scene. But it would also give me an opportunity to
continue my training under her mentorship.”
Antonius
agreed and they retired to the library to send the invitation at once.
To their
surprise, Kyrene answered almost immediately and agreed without reservation to
their invitation to visit them. Marcus and Tullia had written to her of
Felicia’s marriage to the son of their old enemy, and she was therefore not
completely taken aback when the letter came from the young couple.
Yes, she had
truly forgiven Felicia and longed to see her again. And to instruct her further
in the gift that Domino had given her. For these were truly dark days that were
coming on the world, if the news she heard coming out of Valerium were to be
believed.
For it was
said that the new Emperor, Iacomus by name, put himself on a level of being
divine himself. What blasphemy was this?
And what
judgment would come upon Valerium with such a man on the throne?
Justus Lucius
studied the message he held in his hand. It had come from the Palace, from a
Palace Guard who had delivered it secretly on behalf of one who claimed an
acquaintance with him, and was a friend of Marcus Maximus.
Justus was
puzzled why a Palace Guard would risk his life to deliver a message for a
prisoner. He knew them and their kind too well: brutal, self-serving, ambitious
men who would do anything to advance themselves in the royal favor. Why would
any of them stick their neck out for a prisoner?
He opened the
message and read the words addressed to him:
“My name is
Dag Adalbart. I am a friend of Marcus Maximus. I traveled with him and your son
Felix many years ago, and met you when we stayed at your home on our return to
Valerium after trekking on a quest for the Empress Aurora.
“Please
forward the enclosed message to Marcus at this address in Valerium. I would be
grateful if you would do so, and would gladly return the favor to you in the
future if given a chance.
“With sincere
thanks, Dag Adalbart.”
Justus read
the message through and scenes from the past flickered through his mind. He saw
his son, Felix, his witty, intelligent, mischievous boy, exchanging verbal
spars, commenting thoughtfully on some new idea, plotting a trick with the delight
of an irrepressible school boy. And as he remembered, he wept.
Too long had
it been since he had seen his beloved son, too long since he heard him burst
into song, too long since he had seen a scowl on his face lighten to a smile in
one of his swiftly changing moods. Justus still missed him, although more than
twenty years had passed since his life had been so abruptly snatched from him,
and he knew he would go on missing him until the day his own body went to join
that of his son. As the tears fell down his cheeks, he reflected on the changes
of the past months.
It had been a
shock to the people of Valerium when Emperor Urbanus had died suddenly in his
sleep. Never had he been known for any but robust health, and already suspicion
ran rife in the capital city of Potentus. Especially in view of his successor,
Iacomus Cornelius, a man with a questionable past, who had come so quickly to
lord his presence over the Valerian people.
Justus was not
surprised when the edict was announced that continued to banish the
Alexandrians from Valerium. For Iacomus was clearly a man who lusted for power
above all else, and he would not share his power with any, not even a God Who
ruled from the heavens. He would have absolute dominion over the Empire, and
any who challenged him would pay for it.
Justus turned
again to the message he had just read. He remembered Dag now: a tall and
powerful man who was silent of speech and gentle of manner. He recalled that
Silvia liked him very much, and that Dag and Felix bantered back and forth a
lot with a teasing affection for one another. Well, any man who was a friend of
his son…
He rang the
small bronze bell on the table beside him to summon his butler. He did not have
long to wait, as the slaves in his household were efficient and quick to obey a
summons. Justus prided himself on the manner in which his wife ran her
household, instilling respect as well as affection from those who served her.
Now he handed
the inner message in its protective covering to the man who stood before him.
“Take this and
give it to the swiftest messenger we have. It must go at once. I trust you to
see that this is carried out immediately.”
His butler
took the message from his hand and bowed before leaving the room.
That evening
he and his wife Silvia lingered in the room that their family had always liked
the best. The evenings were turning cool and already they lit a fire in the
braziers to warm them from the chill that came with twilight. The light of the
flickering flames cast a warm glow on the tiles and mosaics beneath their feet.
It was a cozy atmosphere and Justus put an arm around his wife and drew her
close in companionable silence.
They sat in
complete harmony of spirit and together watched the reflection of the flames on
the tiles of the floor. Silvia sighed and snuggled closer to Justus; the fire
also set her rich brown eyes sparkling with the same vitality that had
characterized their son, and he realized anew the depth of his love for her. He
found himself grateful that he still had her, and caught her hand and kissed it
briefly.
“I heard some
news today,” Silvia remarked. “Some news I found unbelievable, yet my source is
infallible.”
She waited for
Justus to respond before continuing. In truth, she was not sure she wanted to
tell him the tidings she had received. He cocked an eyebrow as a sign for her
to continue.
“You will not
believe it, Justus. Indeed, I could not! Do you remember Felicia Maximus, the
daughter of Marcus and Tullia?”
She paused,
her heart suddenly beating faster. She took a gulp of air, feeling somewhat
dizzy, as dizzy as she had grown that afternoon when the news was related to
her.
“Yes, of
course, I remember her. She is a delightful child, although so different from
both of her parents, as I recall.”
“Well, we can
no longer call her a child,” Felicia said in a vain attempt at a laugh. “You
shall never guess Justus. She is married!”
“What!” the
word exploded from Justus. “But that is incredible! She did not want to marry:
she wanted to travel to Solone and have some teaching of some kind is my
recollection. The last news I had of her she had done exactly that.”
“Yes, well,
she did,” Silvia admitted. “But then she returned to Lycenium and when she did
she met her husband. I heard that they married secretly, before their parents even
knew they had met.”
She could not
go on; tears sprang to her eyes with no warning. She still could not believe
what she was about to tell her husband. And she knew the pain it would bring
him.
Justus looked
at his wife with growing curiosity. Why did she not just tell him who Felicia
had married? What was so mysterious about two young people joining in wedlock?
“It is someone
I never expected her to marry,” Silvia continued at last. “Indeed, I believe
her parents never expected it either. But I heard it directly from Renata, our
former Empress. She came to call on me today, and she asked whether I had heard
the news. She herself had been stunned when she was told.”
Silvia
swallowed hard, and wiped the tears that threatened to seep from her eyelids. A
small moaning sound escaped her lips, which she promptly clamped together
tightly. At last she raised her head and with the dignity of a matron of
Valerium proceeded to share her news with her husband.
“Little
Felicia has married Antonius, the son of Decimus Hadrianus.”
Before he
could compose himself Justus felt the air go out of his lungs in one gasp, and
he stared helplessly at Silvia.
“Do you mean…”
he could not finish what he was about to say.
“Yes,” Silvia
answered. “She has married the son of the man who,…who killed our boy.”