Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set)

by L. M. Roth

  Marcus pondered the facts before offering any counsel. He also would hate to have Dag reminded of the pain Fanchon had inflicted on him. And to tell him that she regretted her decision and never forgot him? Would that bring healing to those memories, or would it cause him to regret his marriage to Judoc, if he had known that Fanchon loved him to the end of her life?

  Something in the recital of Melisande as told by Cort struck him as false: what was it that simply didn’t ring true? There was something…

  “Of course,” Cort was speaking, “Melisande may return to Gaudereaux, now that Brenus is dead. After all, what would be left for her, now that she has lost her husband? No one else wishes her to remain: of that you may be certain!”

  “Is that true?” Marcus inquired, one eyebrow raised in skepticism. “It seems to me that your younger sister is very fond of Melisande; would that induce her to make her home here? Does she have any family to return to in Gaudereaux? Does her father still live? And Pascal and Gaelle? What of them?”

  Cort’s head jerked up as if startled by Marcus’ words. He let out a low whistle, then quickly stifled it.

  “You are right, Marcus! I never questioned her about her family in Gaudereaux. I wonder if Gaelle would confirm Melisande’s story were one of us to pay her a visit.”

  “Yes, I wonder,” Marcus mused.

  And then he remembered; Emperor Urbanus’ words from long ago…when he had encountered Marcus on the beaches of Albinium.

  “Ah,” he let out a long drawn sigh. “I have it. I recall something Emperor Urbanus told me once, which I never told anyone else. He said that Fanchon wed the young man who had been selected for her before she met Dag, but that she was not happy, and given to shirking company and feeling blue at times. He said she was not at all like the Fanchon who enjoyed dancing and merriment. So, that much of Melisande’s story is true.

  “But the rest of it: why would she wish to wed you, Cort? I do not see the line of reasoning that you do. Was she to make you as miserable as her mother was, so miserable that she at last took her life? What was her motivation?”

  Marcus stared at Cort with his brow wrinkled in genuine puzzlement. He simply failed to see what possible motive Melisande would have in marrying Cort. He saw the dejection in Cort: his shoulders sagging, his sighs, and his sense of inadequacy in explaining something he saw so clearly, yet could not express articulately even to Marcus.

  He decided to try another tack in an effort to find the truth.

  “Tell me,” he said softly, as he placed a comforting hand on Cort’s shoulder. “What was the nature of Melisande’s relationship with Brenus? Did she make him happy? Do you think her grief is genuine?”

  Cort bristled at Marcus’ questions, less because he was offended as because he was angry on his brother’s behalf.

  “He deceived himself into thinking he was happy,” Cort huffed. “But his joy lasted only as long as Melisande had her way. She was all softness and warmth, until he contradicted her or told her ‘no’ to a request. That was all it took to show her true nature!”

  And Cort clenched his fists with an anger he could barely contain. Marcus felt compassion stir him, remembering how close Cort and Brenus had been, how thrilled when Dag and Judoc wed and they became brothers. He recalled two small boys suddenly embracing one another at their parents’ wedding in the sudden realization of the new bond between them, and tears smarted his eyes. Dear fiery little Brenus, who was now no more!

  “Well, Cort,” Marcus said in a voice grown suddenly husky, “let us be thankful that you escaped her clutches. For she would have made you as miserable had you become her victim.”

  “Yes, but I would not have been ensnared by her lures as Brenus was. At no time in my acquaintance with Melisande have I felt affection for her. I do not like her, do not trust her, and I fail to see what attraction she held for my brother,” he said so vehemently that his body shook as though it were a young sapling beset by a strong gale under which it could not stand.

  Marcus turned to look him fully in the face and held him with his eyes. And Marcus knew what it was in Cort’s account that did not ring true…

  “Is that so, Cort? For you said yourself that Brenus found you kissing her. You said you were so stunned that you did not pull away when she kissed you. But it has been my experience that when a man is truly repulsed by a woman, he rejects her advances; and most vehemently too. Yet you did not do that, Cort. And that is why Brenus did not believe you.”

  Chapter XVII

  Dilemma In Golida

  They spoke for a long time. Tullia accepted Ursula’s apology, and shared with her the love of Alexandros for mankind. Although resistant at first with the skepticism of her culture, Ursula said she would need time to digest the message Tullia gave her. For she was firmly rooted in common sense, she said, and did not worship any gods, and had never been inclined to do so.

  Tullia accepted that; she prayed that in time Ursula would see the truth of the good news and let it set her free. For it was clear to her that Ursula had been trapped in a prison of her own making. The bars of her prison had been her bitterness at losing Decimus. Now that she knew the depths of his wickedness, she could count it a lucky escape, even as Tullia counted her own of so many years ago.

  “Ursula,” Tullia ventured in an attempt to bring their conversation back to the matter at hand. “Where did Decimus go with Logos? Where did you meet him to give it to him? If I knew that, I could make haste at once to follow him and bring it back.”

  Ursula’s eyes grew wide and she paled for no reason that Tullia could account for. She stared at Tullia and opened her lips to say something, only to close them abruptly.

  “I do not know,” she admitted. “I told you the truth when I said I did not take the Sword and had never seen it. My part in helping Decimus was to call at your house and be the last guest you admitted before the theft was discovered.”

  She paused for a moment, and Tullia saw that her lips trembled and tears sprang to her eyes. Her own heart began beating wildly with a premonition that she would not like what Ursula was about to say…

  Ursula cleared her throat and looked at Tullia with eyes that pleaded for understanding and mercy.

  “My only part in helping Decimus was to be a decoy that you would chase while he had time to get away and take the Sword to the destination of his choosing. I do not know where that is, or what his intention is. But the theft occurred even before I came to the house.”

  Tullia left Ursula, numb with that last revelation. Where would Decimus have taken Logos? Paulina had informed her and Lucius that Decimus had received an urgent message from his uncle in Lucerna and had left at once to see him. Was that where he had taken Logos?

  Tullia considered it: what purpose would Logos serve him in Lucerna? It was a land of snow-capped mountains and lush valleys, renowned for its beauty. But it was a mere backwater of the Empire, its easternmost boundary, and the inhabitants were strange to the citizens of Valerium. They were uncultured, barely able to read and write, and mystical in their beliefs. They adhered to no deity that the Valerians had ever heard of, clinging instead to proverbs and wise sayings that made little sense to those not of their land. Tullia had never been to that land, but those who had said it was a land like no other.

  In Valerium the inhabitants used reason and logic, even denying the existence of most deities, and winking an eye to those who continued to practice what some regarded as mere superstitions handed down from one generation to the next. But in Lucerna it was said that reason and logic were strangers whose acquaintance the people had never made. And they had an uncanny way of communicating with one another that mystified wayfarers to their region.

  It was rumored that someone in one village could announce something that morning, and it would be known in the next village before the day had ended, without any messengers or runners ever having been sent to spread the news. It was a country that preferred that travelers keep out of their borders, and lea
ve them unmolested. There had been stories that some had innocently wandered into that land, never to return.

  And it was to this land that Decimus reportedly had taken Logos, on an errand known only to him. And it was left to Tullia to follow him, her former abductor who had terrorized her in the days of her youth, and demand the return of her husband’s legacy.

  She returned to the inn and sought out Lucius at once.

  “We’ve no time to waste,” she urged. “I have seen Ursula and we must leave at once for Lucerna.”

  “Lucerna! Why to Lucerna?” Lucius exclaimed, standing with one hand on a hip as he stared uncomprehendingly at his mother.

  “I will explain as we travel,” Tullia said. “But we must leave at once. I must send word to your grandmother to tell her that we shall be gone longer than I expected. And that she is not to say a word to your father: you shall do that when we return.”

  She cast a look so stern upon her son that he inwardly quaked. Lucius dreaded to tell his father of the loss of the Sword. He did not know which was worse, the unspoken accusation in his mother’s eyes, or the devastation that he knew he would see in the face of his father.

  “Let us find Cyriacus and inform him that we must set out on another journey,” she stated. “We have wasted enough time already, and there is no time to lose.”

  As the carriage rattled its way back along the route they had just taken, Tullia wondered what would await her in Lucerna. Why of all places would Decimus take Logos there? There was no logic in such a choice of destination. Could it be simply that no one was truly welcome in that land, and those who entered it rarely left?

  Was his plan to take the Sword to a destination from which it could never be recovered, ensuring its loss forever?

  Chapter XVIII

  Lucerna

  The road climbed higher and higher into the mountains. As the carriage rattled along Tullia reflected on the land they were about to enter. She recalled the stories that Marcus had shared with her, as told by his father Valerius when he campaigned there in the days he led the Imperial Army.

  Lucerna was a land located in the easternmost edge of the Empire, and their culture was like none other within the confines of its vast domain. Although the people had learned the Common Tongue, they clung to their own customs and beliefs and refused to be inculcated into the mold of the Empire.

  About the inhabitants there revolved an air of mystery. They were not a friendly people, although they were unfailingly polite. They did not like strangers, but showed them every courtesy common to a civilized nation. This attitude, Valerius explained, stemmed less from hostility than a sense of privacy and the desire to maintain it.

  The terrain was mountainous throughout, with the occasional broad plain in a river valley. Roads were roughly hewn, little more than a dirt path in most places, and made travel difficult. Those sojourners accustomed to roads paved with cobblestones or finely hewn boulders did not relish miles of trekking so primitively, especially when doing so left one dusty on dry days or muddy on rainy ones.

  This inaccessibility was just fine with the natives, as it prevented many curious wayfarers from entering their land. What was a little discomfort, if it resulted in preserving one’s privacy? Was that too heavy a price to pay in return for the freedom of living as they had always lived? Many thought not, and kept their dirt paths intact, all the better to keep their country to themselves.

  Lucerna was filled with sages who claimed to have the wisdom of the ages at their fingertips. Most of what they said was an incomprehensible riddle as far as Valerius was concerned, and of little value that he could see. He did not know whether anyone actually believed what he perceived to be gibberish, or if they deliberately cloaked their sayings in enigmas that only the initiated could fathom.

  There was one characteristic of Lucerna, however, that Valerius found most agreeable. The beauty of their women was legendary, and one of the reasons that citizens of the Empire desired to explore the land. Their women were usually small of stature and dark of eye, with long, silky hair that they permitted to fall freely unbound to their waists. They wore it as a cloak of modesty to shield them from prying eyes. Indeed, their reticence to be ogled by male eyes was part of their attraction, as they were clearly uncomfortable with staring eyes that gazed on them with any but polite admiration.

  The men of the country were close-mouthed and given to watching travelers from the corners of their dark eyes that were almost as heavily lashed as the women’s. They also were uniformly pleasing in appearance and did not lack for acceptances to their proposals of marriage. Indeed, the entire population seemed possessed of an almost unnatural beauty, rare in an entire race.

  It was even rumored that Lucerna possessed some secret that prolonged youth and beauty, far beyond the normal span of years. Some scoffed at such a statement, but those who had visited Lucerna swore to the allure of its people well into old age, and warned those who laughed to be careful, as it was said that they did not like mockery, and would take issue with anyone who treated them in such a manner.

  All of this did Tullia remember as the carriage climbed the crest of the mountain road, and they beheld below them a valley of incredible beauty. The mountains formed a bowl that encircled the land and sheltered it from the elements. Tullia could not see a crack in that vista except for the road on which they traveled, itself a mere track through the mountain passes.

  Grass so green that it glowed carpeted the valley floor, and everywhere flowers of brilliant color tumbled over it like a rainbow come to earth. From three of the mountainsides flowed waterfalls of an amazing transparency that cascaded with a thunderous sound that could be heard even from their carriage. The air was full of birds that chirped and tweeted as sweetly as a bard singing a tale.

  Tullia was quite suddenly overtaken by a sense of enchantment, and a desire to enter the land below her and explore its secrets for herself. Gone was the sense of apprehension at the tales she had heard of Lucerna, replaced with an avid wish to discover if the legends about it were true. For the moment she completely forgot about Logos; so intrigued was she by the sight of the vista before her…

  They were abruptly torn from their reverie by the appearance of men who surrounded the carriage and prevented it from passing through. They wore no armor, nor carried arms, but challenge was in their stance as they asked Cyriacus his business in their land. The coachman remained calm, but not satisfied with his answer the men opened the door of the carriage and pulled Tullia out.

  She did not cry out in alarm, although her heart began pounding and she felt fear sweep through her. She stammered out that she was a citizen of Valerium who resided in Lycenium and her carriage was merely passing through Lucerna on its way to her destination.

  “What destination is that?” one of the men questioned as he drew too closely for her comfort, peering into her eyes for any betraying sign of falsehood.

  Tullia decided to play the part of an indignant and arrogant aristocrat, hoping the attitude would fool the men and let her pass.

  “That is my business, sir, and none of yours,” she huffed as she patted her hair with an affected gesture of superiority.

  “I am on a personal mission and my road merely passes through your backwater of a land. I will not take any of the precious dirt from your primitive road with me, I assure you, but will leave it intact, exactly as I found it.”

  She said this with such an expression of haughty scorn that the man bristled and took offense. His next words proved her instinct to be correct.

  “Lucerna is a fine land,” he stated. “Come and see for yourself, lady. You will not find a lovelier one, or a pleasanter people.”

  And the guard bowed and put her back in her carriage and waved for them to proceed to the valley below.

  The carriage slowly descended on the path to the valley floor. Lucius appeared as overwhelmed as Tullia felt by the beauty that met their gazes. He seemed dazzled by the grandeur of the vista around them as they en
tered a small village filled with structures of fragile construction, made of some light gray wood and trimmed with boxes of pale yellow flowers at every window, and capped by curiously domed roofs consisting of tiles of slate dyed a deep red. The air was abundant with the scent of the flowers, which was of a kind that neither of them had ever seen before. They were delicate blooms on tall stems of dark green and their aroma was sweet yet heavy. Tullia decided after one whiff that their smell would quickly weary her, so overpowering was it.

  As they traveled through the village, it became clear that it was larger than they first thought. It was not a mere cluster of houses, but contained streets and thoroughfares, although made of the same dirt as the road that passed through it. The citizens eyed them warily before dropping their eyes, whether in modesty or slyness Tullia could not determine.

  She bade Cyriacus stop, and she opened the door of the carriage and climbed out before he could descend from his box to assist her. A few of the women who were strolling through the streets on errands paused to look at her curiously before glancing away. Tullia was joined by Lucius and she signaled to him to follow her.

  She ambled through the streets with no apparent purpose in mind, pausing before the stalls of merchants who offered their wares of vegetables and a strange fruit of a purple color with a rough texture the size of a lemon. She gestured to the merchant, who appeared reluctant to give it to her. His reticence surprised her and she spoke to him in the Common Tongue.

  “I would like to purchase that fruit, please,” she smiled pleasantly at the man, who now appeared almost apprehensive.

  “You would not like it, lady,” he stammered. “Perhaps you would like to purchase beans at the next stall instead.”

  Such effrontery from a total stranger made her indignant and Tullia was now bent on obtaining the fruit simply because the peddler was determined to keep it.