by L. M. Roth
Marcus was stunned at the effrontery of the desire to return to idol worship. What had come over them to even consider such a blasphemy?
Dag, however, was not finished.
“At the Spring Festival, all seemed well until the end. And then Niamh walked to the center of the Common and praised Dominio and gave thanks to Eoghan. And when I looked at the villagers, I knew it had been planned without my knowledge, even by the councilmen.
“I spoke out against the statement and reminded them who they had pledged to serve. Laig said that they had not forgotten the gods who blessed these lands long before we arrived here and told them they were wrong to honor them. They said they would serve them and Dominio, for they were all the same.”
Dag paused for breath, and passed a hand over his face as if to erase the pain of that memory. Marcus felt compassion stir within him; how agonizing it must have been to be challenged by those with whom he had lived for the past twenty years.
“It divided even my family,” Dag murmured. “Some of them stood with me, and some with the villagers.”
The sudden intake of Marcus’ breath caught Dag’s attention and he interrupted his account to glance at his friend. Just then Dag’s eyes widened and he gasped also. He blinked his eyes rapidly and picked up the thread of his narrative, but slowly as a revelation smote him.
“Laig also said that though they had forgotten the old gods, they had cried out to them of late and reminded them of who the Eirini were, and what they owed to the old gods.”
Dag stopped and shed a puzzled glance on Marcus before he continued.
“How can the old gods have cried out to them, I wonder, as we had destroyed their high places and drove them out? Is it because we did not destroy the mound?”
Marcus mutely shook his head in bewilderment. He had to admit that he shared Dag’s confusion. For a moment they stared into one another’s eyes, each looking for an answer that the other could not give. And then comprehension smote him.
“Or,” Marcus said in a voice that quivered in alarm, “someone else was crying out to the old gods. And they heard and answered back.”
Chapter XIII
A Bitterness Remembered
Tullia did not believe Ursula. She stared into her face and did not give her ground.
“I do not believe you, Ursula,” she stated in a voice that rang with steel. “You have seen the Sword, and you took it from my household. And the reason you did so was to help Decimus Hadrianus with some evil scheme!”
At the mention of Decimus, Ursula became enraged, her face turning from pink to red to purple. She raised her hand to strike Tullia, all pretense of ladylike courtesy forgotten in the sudden savagery of her rage, but Tullia saw it and grabbed Ursula’s wrist and twisted it. Ursula cried out and, withdrawing her wrist from Tullia’s grasp, backed away from her carefully.
“You vixen!” she exclaimed, so furious that spittle flew out of her mouth at her words. “How dare you mention his name to me!”
Tullia saw with satisfaction that her accusation had hit its mark. She was certain now that Decimus was somehow behind the theft of Logos, and Ursula had been his accomplice, with or without the knowledge of her husband Maurus.
She decided to move in for the kill.
“I would have thought,” she began in a voice that was silvery in its smoothness, “that you would have had more pride than to help the man who spurned you after making a fool of you so many years ago. Ah, well; it is clear that you love Decimus still. A fact that would break the heart of your husband Maurus, were he to know it!”
And Tullia flung a challenging smile at Ursula. She did not mean to hurt her, but she had a plan that she meant to follow, and her taunts were part of the scheme.
Ursula was now livid with wrath at her unwelcome guest. She lost what remained of her composure and erupted at Tullia, who had taken Decimus from her so long ago.
“How dare you!” she screamed, heedless of any servants who might be in range of her voice. “I will kill you myself if you do not leave at once!”
Tullia looked at the enraged woman coolly before setting the trap.
“Well, it is clear that Maurus is in the dark about your true feelings. How shocked he would be to know that you assisted the man you never forgot in the theft of a valuable heirloom, simply because you pine for him still.”
And Tullia shook her head from side to side as though overcome with sadness and disbelief at the fickleness of human nature.
Ursula ceased her screaming and turned pale as she stared at Tullia.
“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Why would I assist Decimus in stealing Logos? I hate the man; I have for years!”
Ursula shouted these last words and Tullia saw that she had taken the bait.
“Well, it is interesting that you have denied helping Decimus with the theft of Logos, when a moment ago you denied ever having seen the Sword. Which of your lies am I expected to believe, Ursula: that you did not help to steal Logos, which I had not named, or that you have never seen the Sword?”
Tullia never blinked her eyes as she waited for Ursula’s response to her charges.
Ursula blinked her eyes rapidly and stared frantically at Tullia like an animal looking for a way of escape; then crumpled when she realized she was trapped. She fell into a nearby chair, and motioned for Tullia to be seated. Ursula did not speak immediately, but closed her eyes and breathed deeply, exhaling slowly before she addressed Tullia’s charges.
At last she raised her eyes to Tullia’s.
“It is true,” she admitted. “I helped Decimus. And Maurus knows nothing of it.”
Tullia said nothing, but waited for Ursula to continue. Ursula searched the face of her old rival to gauge her reaction; noting Tullia’s air of calm patience she continued.
“It is also true that I hate Decimus Hadrianus,” she suddenly spat out the words. “Oh, how I hate him!”
Ursula ground her teeth together at these last words. Tullia saw that she was sincere at last, having the look of hatred in her eyes that only a woman who has loved a man and been rejected by him can betray.
“I helped him to hurt you,” Ursula said, as she bestowed a baleful glance upon Tullia.
“And Decimus wanted to hurt Marcus. Both of us for the same reason: you stood in my way with Decimus, and Marcus stood in Decimus’ way with you. It does not matter how long ago it has been. We both of us still long for someone we can never have.”
Ursula sighed and a wistfulness crept over her face. To the amazement of Tullia, tears sprang into her eyes as well. Ursula felt Tullia’s stare and quickly turned her face away before resuming her account.
“Decimus came to call on me one day when I was visiting my family in Lycenium,” she explained. “He dared to ask if I remembered him. Remember him; how could I forget him! He had sought me out in the days before you arrived in Lycenium, and I had every reason to believe that he was paying court to me. My friends told me I was assuming too much, that as the daughter of a mere merchant Decimus could not possibly have honorable intentions toward me, and that I had best send him away.
“But I did not listen, and continued to meet him in secret. How he wooed me, kissing my hand, whispering softly in my ear little endearments such as no one had ever spoken to me, bringing me small gifts as a token of his regard for me. I fell in love, and I fell completely. I was beyond reason: I merely wanted to be with Decimus all the days of my life.”
Here Ursula shot a venomous glance at her guest.
“And then you arrived from Valerium, and all my hopes were dashed. I was told that Decimus was paying court to the daughter of his father’s old friend Tullios Octavius, and that she was the most sought after maiden in all of Lycenium, and Valerium as well. I did not believe it at first, and continued to meet Decimus secretly.”
Here Ursula was interrupted by a shocked gasp from Tullia, who stared at her in open mouthed bewilderment. Ursula snickered and nodded her head in satisfaction.
&
nbsp; “Oh, yes, Decimus continued to meet me even when he was wooing you,” she gloated. “He could not keep away from me, you see! He still made me believe he loved me, and I could not understand why everyone said he was courting you. My friends told me that Decimus would never stoop to marrying beneath his station, and I was definitely beneath him. Also, that he would look higher for a bride, and you were the daughter of his old friend and more suitable as a wife for the House of Hadrianus.”
Her lips hardened as memory smote her, and for a moment she did not go on. After collecting her thoughts she related the rest of the story that Tullia had not heard before.
“He continued to seek me out, and willingly I met him. Until I saw you one day in the marketplace. And I knew that I had been made the fool. One look at your face and form and I knew he was making sport of me, with the intention of seducing me. Yes, I had heard that he was capable of that, but did not believe it until I saw you.
“I wished with all of my heart that you would return to Valerium where you belonged and leave Decimus to me. But it did not happen. I continued to see Decimus, with the intention of ending it as soon as I could find an excuse without causing further damage to my pride.
“Before I could find an excuse, however, I heard of your disappearance. And shortly after that, that Decimus had somehow been responsible for it. Then you married Marcus and the Hadrianus family eventually left Lycenium under a cloud of scandal, the extent of which I never heard.
“But I blamed you for robbing me of Decimus. And I still do.”
The sheer hatred which darted from Ursula’s eyes chilled Tullia to the marrow of her bones, and she involuntarily shivered. Truly it was frightening to be the object of such ill will and malice! She decided, however, that it was time to complete for Ursula the blanks in her history with Decimus.
She cleared her throat somewhat hesitantly, not certain how Ursula would receive what she was about to say. The sound caught the attention of Ursula and she peered at Tullia with sudden curiosity.
“Ursula,” she began softly, “there is something you should know. I do not speak of this matter except to the members of my family who were witness to these events. But I feel you should know, and then perhaps you can lay your feelings for Decimus to rest at last.”
Ursula turned a puzzled look upon her, but inclined her head at Tullia.
“Go on,” she said. “I am listening.”
“Well, it is true that Decimus was behind my disappearance all those years ago. I met him one day at his request, without the accompaniment of my attendants. He proposed marriage to me and I refused it. I refused because I realized that it was Marcus I loved and always would, regardless of his circumstances or position. It was he I wanted and no one else.
“My rejection made Decimus furious. He hit me over the head with something, what I do not know, and I lost consciousness. When I awoke, I was in a place I had never seen before. It was his hunting lodge, and he vowed he would keep me hidden there until I agreed to marry him. I refused, and he kept me a prisoner until I was rescued at last by Marcus and his friends, Felix and Kyrene.
“They pulled me out of the cellar where Decimus had hidden me, but before we could escape Decimus returned. He was beside himself when he saw they had rescued me and lost all control. He raised a knife to kill me, but Felix stepped in between us and was stabbed instead. Felix died right there in that lodge; he died saving me.
“All of this was witnessed by Decimus’ own father and Felix’s mother who led them there after she discovered our plans. Felix died in her arms, and Governor Hadrianus saw with his own eyes the evil his son had perpetrated. And though some of the leading men of Lycenium came with him to the lodge and witnessed the slaying, they did not punish Decimus because he was the Governor’s son.
“The scandal refused to die down, however, and the Governor was forced to resign. The Hadrianus family left Lycenium for a few years. When they returned, Decimus was married to Paulina, a woman slightly beneath his station who is afraid of him.”
Tullia paused for breath and shuddered at the remembered horror of those terrible events. Even now she grieved for Felix and treasured the memory of his valor in saving her.
When she recovered herself, she noticed that Ursula was staring at her with the same sense of horror that she felt in reliving those incidents. She gazed at Tullia with a face so pale that Tullia was afraid she would faint. But Ursula did not faint; she moaned and extended a hand to Tullia in a gesture that seemed conciliatory, although Tullia would not have thought her capable of it.
“Tullia,” she murmured, “I did not know any of this. I heard rumors of some scandal, but not this. Now all of the pieces I have puzzled over have fallen into place. How you must have suffered! Abducted, locked up, and your friend slain trying to save you.”
She suddenly rose from her chair and sank to her knees before Tullia. Almost shyly she smiled through tear misted eyes, and took Tullia’s hands between her own.
“I am sorry,” she stated simply. “Is there any way you can forgive me, and I can atone for what I have done?”
Chapter XIV
The Rulers of the Wild Places
Marcus stared at Dag with growing dismay. The people of Eirinia had been loyal servants of Dominio; what had turned their hearts away from Him to serve their old gods once more? Or who had turned them away?
“Dag, do you know of anyone in Leith who is openly serving the Tuadan and the old gods that we banished? Have you heard of anyone going to the mound or the high places from the former days?”
Dag shook his head, his face filled with the sadness of what he had just recounted. Although he had not said it to Marcus, he felt that somehow he had failed the people of Leith, failed Dominio also, that they should want to turn back to their vain idols.
“No one,” he said. “I have not seen any evidence of idol worship. Were it not for what took place at Spring Festival, and the mystery of Brenus’ death, I would have no reason to suspect anything amiss.”
Marcus pondered on his statement. And yet, something was amiss: terribly amiss. He shuddered inwardly at the recounting of Brenus’ death. And though it would be hard for Dag to repeat it, he felt he must hear it again. Somehow he had missed something in the telling, something that disturbed him greatly…
“Dag, I know this will be hard, and indeed, I do not wish to cause you pain. But I must ask you to repeat what you have told me about Brenus, and the manner of his death. There is something I missed and I feel it is vital for us to know and understand.”
Dag’s face was stoic and devoid of expression as he related again the finding of the body of Brenus. As Marcus listened, he visualized the scene: the lovely May morning, the mound in the secluded woods, and the body that lay beyond the path. And he knew what had eluded him.
“That is it!” he exclaimed; and then lowered his voice as Judoc cast a questioning look in his direction from where the family was seated together at the front of the living quarters.
“It’s the path, Dag. Do you remember the time that Brenus ran off the path as a boy, and how upset Judoc became? She told us that the Tuadan were the rulers of the wild places, and those who strayed from the path did not return. We did not take her seriously, yet you tell me that Brenus was found beyond the mound off the path.”
He paused for a moment and saw the dawning look of horror in Dag’s eyes. He nodded silently in confirmation.
“Brenus strayed from the path,” Dag murmured. “And he paid for it.”
“Yes. And Laig told you that he had encountered the Tuadan as a young man and had to return to the path, that only then would he be safe. Why is that? What is there about the path that is so vital for the safety of the Eirini? We must find out, for there I believe lies a possible solution to this mystery.”
Marcus hated to upset Judoc with his questions, she who was mourning the death of her firstborn son. And yet he was convinced that there was something about the path that was of vital importance. How he wis
hed he could consult Logos for a solution to the mystery! But he had left the Sword in Lycenium, afraid to take it on his journey lest he be stopped and arrested somewhere and the Sword confiscated and taken from him.
He was informed that the family was to be confined to the hut for seven days; they had already passed five of those days before his arrival. He waited patiently for the remainder to complete their mourning before asking Judoc for the information he so sorely needed.
While he waited, he observed the changes in the Adalbart family now that they were all assembled together. What a fine young man Cort had become! And his bride, Siv: Marcus already had a warm spot in his heart for her. He rejoiced to hear the tale of their courtship from Cort when he had a few moments time with him. How like his own romance with Tullia: but in this case it was Siv who waited and prayed for Cort to return to her.
And the sight of Cort with his mother gladdened Marcus greatly. He had only met Cort’s father before, that one time in Trekur Lende that disgusted him to this day. What father could sell his child to the highest bidder to pay his own debts! Now he saw how Brit’s eyes followed her son, and rested with satisfaction on her daughter-in-law. He noted also her friendship with Judoc, and was pleased that there was no rivalry over Cort between his two mothers.
Dag’s children with Judoc had grown much since he last saw them. Dirk was a broad-shouldered young man with a high spirit and daring heart, evidenced even in the way he expressed himself in conversation. His vocabulary consisted of words such as boldly, fearless, and challenge. Marcus pitied the person who inadvertently crossed this young man, for it was clear that he was a warrior in the making. And already Marcus saw the strong resemblance to Dag in his youth.
The younger son Brand was quiet of manner, with a dreamy expression in his soft brown eyes. He said little, yet Marcus sensed the heart of a poet. Brand seemed highly aware of the feelings of others, and sensitive to beauty. For the life of him Marcus could not tell where Brand received those qualities, as his father was a fearless hunter who aimed first and worried about the consequences later, and his mother a busy little woman who scurried and sang about the hut with the industry of a bee and the joy of a hummingbird. Except that there were no songs issuing from her lips during the days of her mourning…