Authors: L. M. Roth
Justus
strolled in thoughtful meditation through the grounds of his villa. The autumn
air was brisk though mild, and he relished the chance to continue his morning
walk before the advent of winter, which would arrive shortly. The trees had
dropped their foliage, leaving their bare skeletons exposed against the
November sky. On this day the sky was gray and overcast and their silhouettes
flared dramatically in their stark beauty.
The day
reflected his mood only too well. How gray Valerium was these days, days in
which the citizens spoke in whispers for fear of provoking the Emperor to new
bouts of rage. For the autumn had been only too full of the evidences of his
wrath and cruelty to those who roused it.
Justus had
seen the Alexandrians flee the country one by one, until none were left to his
knowledge. They scattered to the farthest outreaches of the Empire, where they
could escape unmolested. It was a peculiar feature of the Valeriun Empire that
it permitted each province to govern itself according to its own native laws,
asking only that allegiance be paid to the Emperor and an annual tax be paid.
For the Alexandrians, this was a welcome reprieve, but Justus did not know how
long it could be expected to last given the state of mind and the ruthless
nature of Iacomus.
He had grown
to loathe the man. He knew that had his son Felix or his friend Marcus Maximus
heard him make such a statement, they would have reproved him. He should pray
for Iacomus and ask for the love that Dominio felt for this man to fill his
heart as well, is what he would have been told. Possibly they were right,
Justus conceded; it never did anyone good to harbor hatred and resentment in
their heart, but only made it hard and bitter. Yet he could not bring himself
to even desire to love the man, or pray to a deity that he did not believe in.
Justus had
spent all of his years in Valerium and had grown cynical at the witness of the
abuse of power in that land of soldiers. Power was what all of Valerium craved,
its rulers no less than anyone else, and the love of power was a deadly desire
that served only to destroy the humanity of those who wished to rule over
others, whether it be in the government, the army, the home, or the social
circle.
He had seen in
his days on the council men of intelligence who sought out truth fall into
darkness as they used their brilliance to seek their own gain. And their wives,
ladies of gentle refinement, reduced to the level of savage wild cats, always
lying in wait to pounce on the social superior they wished to add to their
dinner table to increase its luster, and clawing with their words those who
succeeded where they failed.
No, he did not
believe it possible for a man to attain salvation, as his son Felix had
explained to him. For if it was only possible for a man to fall into darkness
through his own desires, how could he believe in a deity that would elevate him
to a status that was almost divine? It was not a question that he felt equipped
to answer, and decided to leave such heavy thinking for another day.
A slight rain
began to fall and the smell of the dead leaves beneath his feet rose to his
nostrils in a musty odor that seemed to personify all of the stale and moldy
character of the Valeriun Empire. It had reigned far too long and had grown
arrogant and narcissistic, seeking only to serve its own desires and gave no
thought to the poor or downtrodden. Was there anywhere in the city of Potentus
a decent man or a modest woman, whose desires rose above the next invasion of a
helpless nation or the empty table talk at the next banquet?
The rain fell
harder, and the wind picked up briskly. He decided it was time to return to the
villa. As he entered the small family sitting room, his wife Silvia shot an
apprehensive glance at him. He was puzzled at this greeting, and then noticed
an unopened scroll sitting on her lap. Even from where he stood he could see
the Imperial seal.
Ah, he
thought. That is what worries her.
He did not
insult her by pretending ignorance at her concern, but held out his hand for
the scroll. She placed it gently in his hands, as if reluctant to hear the
words written on its parchment. He unrolled it, and read what he now realized
he had been expecting all along.
He stood
before Iacomus, waiting for the Emperor to speak, for he could say nothing
until he did. Iacomus appeared troubled this afternoon, not quite the demeanor
that Justus had expected. He placed his hands in front of him with the fingers
laced together, and stared through them as if they held all the secrets of the
universe within their grasp.
The Emperor
did not speak, but signaled for a herald to read from a scroll. It was to
Justus a pronouncement of the judgment he had secretly feared.
“Justus
Lucius, you who have always been a loyal servant of the Empire, it is with
reluctance that His Grace the Emperor Iacomus finds you guilty of treason in
harboring a criminal, the man Dag Adalbart, who has confessed his crime of
being a member of the rebel sect known as the Alexandrians. You will adjourn
this day to the Imperial dungeon, where you will await the Emperor’s pleasure
in deciding your sentence.”
Antonius and
Felicia arrived in Potentus on a rainy day in November that mirrored the
general mood of the populace. All around them as they walked through the
capital city they saw grim faces that looked as if a smile had become a
stranger whose presence they had been deprived of for so long that they were
uncertain how to entertain it if it had arrived. Even the few remaining birds
that had not flown south for the winter were subdued, their songs hushed as if
in fear of incurring the royal wrath for breaking the gloomy silence.
Felicia was
grieved by what she witnessed in the city that had always been her home. The
guards had been increased throughout the capital, but why that was she did not
know. Was the Emperor on the prowl for more than just Alexandrians to betray
themselves? Did the citizenry live in fear of imprisonment on imaginary
pretexts?
She recalled
how Maelys had described her meeting with the Archippos family, and how Thais
had flashed a pearl at her. Kyrene had been present when she shared the
incident, and she nodded her head vigorously, telling the girls that it was a
method that was used in Solone to reveal one Alexandrian to another. Her own
father had been a pearl merchant who gave pearls to the Alexandrians of Solone.
He had gone on to his eternal reward a few years ago, and she still had his
store of pearls, some of which she always carried with her should she meet
another Alexandrian who was in need of one.
She produced a
few small and creamy colored ones which she gave to Felicia and Maelys. They
divided them and discovered that they had three apiece. One for each of them,
Felicia said, and two more to be given to others that they met.
Felicia also
thought of, but did not mention to the others, the ring she had bought from
Bimo’s daughter which had been specially blessed to protect the one who wore
it, and which she had given to Antonius on their wedding night. There was no
one she would rather have it than her husband, but she wished she had more of
the same. It would be so comforting, she thought, to be able to give one to Dag
to protect him in his imprisonment.
She sighed
audibly as she reflected on these things, sighed so loudly that Antonius turned
to look at her with concern in his eyes. She smiled at him in reassurance and
he relaxed. How wonderful it was to have a husband like Antonius! She thanked
Dominio upon her rising every morning for the gift of such a loving and gentle
husband.
She put her
arm through his and clasped it to her tightly. She pulled his hand up to her
lips and kissed the ring of pearl which he wore. He laughed in amusement and
promptly planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. Antonius loved her nose; he had
told her once that it seemed to express all of the vigorous determination that
he knew his wife possessed.
They exchanged
these caresses regardless of the strangers who walked by them, and Felicia
stifled a desire to laugh. How shocked and appalled her parents would be had
they seen their behavior! Both of them adhered to the Valerian code of rigid
decorum in public places, conducting oneself with dignity when among strangers.
Although
Felicia knew that her parents loved one another deeply with an abiding passion,
she had never witnessed them display any affection except for the evening her
father had whisked her mother off her feet in her exhaustion after returning
from Lucerna, and tenderly kissed her forehead. It was, she thought, the
difference between their generation and hers, a generation that was waking to
the darkness of the world around them and wished to snatch at every moment of
living that it could grasp, lest tomorrow be too late.
After walking
for more than two miles in the crowded streets, they arrived at last at the
ministerial home of Decimus and Paulina. They would be their guests while
staying in the city, Antonius had explained to her. However, he had not written
to tell his father to expect them, and it was with genuine surprise that his
parents greeted them. Surprise and concern, Felicia observed. For it was true
that no Alexandrian was safe in the city of Potentus.
A formal
banquet had been scheduled for the evening, one which could not be broken for
fear of offending protocol. Otherwise, Paulina told them, she and Decimus would
have loved nothing more than to spend the entire evening with their children,
for was not Felicia their daughter now that she had married their son?
This was a
thought that brought genuine joy to her mother-in-law, Felicia realized. It was
true that Paulina had always longed for a daughter, but had only borne one
child. Why that was she did not say, but Felicia knew that it was not uncommon
for a woman to be so injured giving birth to one child that she could never
bear another. It was something to be accepted as beyond her power to change or
control.
The banquet
was the bore that Felicia expected, but as the evening wore on she detected
undercurrents that caught her attention and held it fast. Although she and
Antonius had not been expected, Paulina managed to put them at a table with
Vibianus and Livia Pomponius, old friends of her parents. That they seemed
astonished at her marriage was evident by the wide-eyed stare that Livia
greeted her with before managing to recover her manners. Vibianus was more
discreet in his greeting, but the puzzled frown that adorned his brow was as
revealing as his wife’s goggle-eyed gaze.
Felicia found
herself wondering why her marriage should be a surprise to others: did they
think she would never marry? Or had they heard about her rebellious flight from
Solone in order to avoid her season in Lycenium and did not know that she had
returned home?
It was not
long, however, before the Pomponius’ gave her a surprise of their own.
“I am so happy
to see you again, Felicia,” Livia said, her voice oozing a fond affection that
Felicia found herself basking in. “Tell me, are your parents well? Do they
continue to make their home in Lycenium? We missed them so when they left
Valerium.”
A shadow
flitted across Livia’s face, and Felicia wondered if it was due to missing
Tullia, or if the general atmosphere of suppression in Potentus worried her
mother’s old friend. Her own response would bring enlightenment and the
alarming discovery of how life in Valerium had changed since last she saw it.
“They are very
well, and they do live in Lycenium still. I believe that they miss Valerium,
but do not mention it. I wonder, though, how our old friends the Lucius’ fare?
They are like parents to my father, you know, and like grandparents to Lucius
and me.”
Vibianus and
Livia exchanged a look, one that communicated something that made Felicia’s
pulse suddenly race. Livia raised an eyebrow and Vibianus nodded almost
imperceptibly. Livia then leaned close to Felicia and lowered her voice.
“Felicia
dear,” she murmured, “please be very careful how you respond to what I am about
to tell you. I do not wish to alarm you, but there are eyes here tonight
watching you, knowing you are the daughter of Alexandrians, wondering if you
are one yourself. Do you understand that? If you do, pat my hand.”
Felicia gave
the hand placed next to her a light tap. She was rewarded with a slight tap
back on her own hand, and then Livia continued.
“I have bad
news I’m afraid, regarding your old friend. He was summoned to the Palace last
week and sentenced to imprisonment. It appears he was caught trying to help a
prisoner, a man from Eirinia who is an Alexandrian. Justus tried to hide that
fact from the Emperor but the man blurted it out. And Iacomus is furious that
Justus attempted to shield him.”
After all of
the guests had departed, Felicia requested a private interview with her
father-in-law. Antonius laughed slightly and seemed surprised, but Felicia told
him that as Antonius had a birthday coming soon she wished to consult his
father for ideas on the perfect gift. Paulina joined in her son’s amusement,
and the two of them bade Felicia and Decimus good-night and retired to their
chambers.
Decimus led
Felicia into the library and beckoned for her to be seated. He appeared to have
believed her pretext and beamed an approving grin at this evidence of the love
she bore her husband. He was no sooner seated, however, than she plunged into
the true reason for this interview.
“Father,” she
began, giving him the title due him upon her marriage to his son, “I have a
favor to ask of you.”
“Why,
certainly Felicia. You have only to tell me what you desire. What is it?”
She stared at
the man before her, studying his cat-like green eyes, his crop of black hair
only sparsely streaked with silver strands, and his powerful physique. Decimus
moved with the grace and stealth of a jungle cat, and at this moment he made
her think of a black panther, a leopard with no spots, as they were sometimes
called. She did not know why this resemblance struck her, but decided it suited
him. After all, leopards were known for being loners, unlike the other big
cats, and there were few that this man allowed into his heart. In fact, the
only one she knew of for certain was his son.
She collected
every ounce of courage she could muster and pursued her course.
“I heard
through gossip at the banquet that a friend of my parents has been imprisoned.
He is very dear to all of us, and I am alarmed to hear such evil tidings.”
Decimus became
wary of a sudden, and she sensed that she needed to tread carefully.
“And who might
that be?” was all that Decimus asked her.
“His name is
Justus Lucius,” she replied. “He is a very old friend of the family, both he
and his wife. They have known my father nearly all of his life. It would grieve
all of us should any harm come to him.”
Decimus heard
her request in silence, but a frown puckered his brow and he seemed lost in
thought.
“Lucius,” he
repeated. “Justus Lucius. That name seems familiar to me for some reason. But I
am a stranger to Valerium myself, having lived most of my life in Lycenium, and
I am puzzled why that name seems to ring a bell.”
He continued
to frown in perplexity, and Felicia took one last breath before praying
silently.
Help me be
brave, Dominio. Help me be brave.
“Perhaps the
name rings a bell because you killed his son, Felix, for whom I am named.”
Down in the
depths of the Imperial dungeon, Justus listened to the sound of the rain
falling outside. Beating against the stone walls it produced a pleasing sound,
one that was almost comforting and cozy on this dreary evening. At least the
rain brought a reminder of life outside these prison walls, and he would gladly
take that over the silence that prevailed here otherwise.
So absorbed
was he in the sound of the rain that he failed to detect the sound of
approaching footsteps. He was therefore surprised when a man appeared at the
door of his prison and opened it. But the greater surprise came when Justus
recognized the man: a man whose face he would never forget.
Decimus
Hadrianus stood before him. Of course, he knew he was the Imperial Minister,
but only the Palace Guards had any interaction with prisoners. What brought his
son’s murderer to his jail this night?
Decimus did
not speak to Justus. He glanced briefly at him, but quickly dropped his eyes
and looked away. He came to him and unlocked the manacles about the older man’s
wrists.
Justus stood
gaping at him, his mouth hanging open in utter shock. Surely he must be
dreaming, he thought. Had the Emperor released him? Or had he sent his Minister
of State to pronounce the sentence of death upon him, knowing how painful it
would sound on the lips of the man who had killed his son? Would Iacomus be so
evil as to do such a thing to spite one who had defied him?
At last
Decimus spoke, but not the words that Justus expected to hear.
“You will
follow me. Do not say a word, or we shall be betrayed. There is a boat waiting
for you, with your wife onboard, which will take you to Lycenium.”
Decimus opened
the door wide to let Justus through. Then he turned to him once more.
“Remember: you
did not see me, you did not speak to me. And if you do not go to Lycenium at
once, you will be a dead man.”