Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set)

by L. M. Roth

  Tullia dismissed her attendants and instructed them to meet her in front of the great library in two hours time. Marcus introduced her to his new friends. Tullia seemed surprised by the rough-hewn appearance of Dag and Cort, though she quickly masked it with a gracious smile. When Fanchon was introduced as Dag’s betrothed, Tullia’s eyes flitted discreetly from the vivacious, fashionably attired girl to the quiet, provincially garbed man with a flicker of doubt in them. Noting this, Marcus reflected that even a stranger considered the couple to be an unlikely twosome. To Kyrene, Tullia extended a warm smile, but her eyes traveled from Marcus to Felix with a questioning look. All in good time, Marcus thought. Tullia will understand Kyrene’s presence when I have told her all our adventures.

  Tullia then directed the little band of travelers to a courtyard that was enclosed on three sides. The open side faced the harbor, where the river traffic was brisk. A cool breeze ruffled the water, sending ripples through the current. On the massive bridge with its balustrades of carved granite, strollers ambled along enjoying the fine day. Statues of the great statesmen and scholars of the city dotted the bridge, an emblem of the promotion of culture and civilization for which the city was famed.

  They found a secluded corner bordered by a fountain that released a sparkling spray into the air. The sound of splashing water soothed Marcus as he prepared himself to inform Tullia of all that had befallen him since last they met.

  Now that they were settled for conversation, Marcus felt a curious reluctance to talk in front of his companions. He had never shared with any but Felix the facts of his enslavement and the imprisonment of his parents. He felt awkward at discussing such matters with the others.

  Seeing his hesitancy, Felix glanced at Kyrene and raised his eyebrows. She seemed to comprehend his unspoken request and rose to her feet.

  “Come,” she addressed the Trekur Lenders and Fanchon, “let us explore the city and leave these old friends to their reunion. They have much news to share, none of which is our concern.”

  “Oh, but we are part of that news, no? We have had such adventures in so short a time! I am sure Lady Tullia would be fascinated by Koohyaram, although I must say the Ashkani is not the kind of man a well-bred young lady would want to meet. Why I could tell her...”

  “But Fanchon, why would Tullia want to hear of him if she would not wish to meet him? This is not logical, no?” Felix laughed. “Why don’t you go with Kyrene to explore the bazaar? It is truly a haven for ladies to shop, with all its textiles and perfumes. I am told the finest cloths in the world travel through this city.”

  At the mention of cloth, Fanchon’s eyes lit up avariciously. She grabbed Kyrene’s hand and nearly yanked her off her feet in her eagerness to explore the bazaar. Dag groaned but followed his betrothed, while Cort glanced at Felix, shrugged his shoulders and followed in Dag’s wake.

  Felix chuckled at the consternation of the great man from Trekur Lende.

  “Not wed yet, but already tasting the joys of matrimony! Little Fanchon will empty his purse, of that I have no doubt!”

  Marcus joined in his laughter; then an odd constraint fell on both young men. It was due to the presence of Tullia, and the uncertainty of their standing with her. She appeared to feel it as well, looking from one to the other as if in confusion. Marcus would have preferred to speak alone with her, but it was clear that Felix had no intention of leaving them.

  Marcus cleared his throat and took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled without saying a word. Felix whistled tunelessly while staring at the cobbled street. Tullia glanced from Marcus to Felix to the bridge and back again. She tapped her fingers on her knee, then touched one ear lobe and patted her hair as if checking for a loose tendril. Marcus had never seen her anything but poised and collected, and her outward fidgeting betrayed her inner agitation.

  “Well,” Tullia finally ventured, breaking the silence, “you were going to tell me what happened. I thought you were dead; it’s what I was told.”

  “And you were not alone in that belief,” Felix hastily interrupted. “I was led to believe that as well.”

  “Felix, please allow me to relate what took place,” Marcus implored in a voice broken by his restrained emotions.

  Tullia and Felix fixed their gazes steadily on Marcus. He was struck by the tension of both; it was evident in the rigidity of Tullia’s posture, always erect but now brittle, as though one careless touch might shatter her. Felix clenched his fists so tightly the whiteness of his knuckles was noticeable, and his eyes were unblinking as he stared intently at Marcus.

  Marcus sighed and tossed back his head, running his fingers through the forelock that would fall on his brow at such a moment when he wished to appear perfectly composed. Then he found his voice, and told Tullia of the morning when his life turned upside down. He spoke of his seizure by the Imperial Guards, his enslavement to Cadeyrn, and release by him as a debt of gratitude. Marcus noted how Tullia’s eyes softened when he spoke of the long days of toil, the harsh living conditions, and how they glowed when he related the slaying of the wolf. Tullia beamed a smile of pride that thrilled his heart, and gave him hope for the future.

  Then he shared the fugitive return home and the shocking news of the imprisonment of his parents and the confiscation of their estate. He paused before mentioning the Empress Aurora and her commission to bring back the Pearl. The task entrusted to him was known only to Felix, and Marcus debated how much to tell Tullia. Finally, he revealed that Aurora gave as a condition of his parents’ release the fulfillment of a mission. If he failed, his parents must remain in their prison at the mercy of Aurora, and he would remain homeless, shorn of his inheritance, facing possible imprisonment or even execution.

  Marcus confided that he had failed in his task: it was not possible to fulfill the command of the Empress. Tullia’s blue eyes misted like fog settling on an autumn lake as Marcus paused in his tale of woe. Felix bowed his head and took a deep, shuddering breath. Marcus was silent, spent by the emotion that surged while relating his ordeal. For several minutes no one spoke.

  “What will you do now?” Tullia at last whispered. “If, as you say, you cannot fulfill the task appointed you, although you do not tell me why, what will you do?”

  “I must go to the Empress Aurora and tell her the mission is impossible to complete; that which she sent me to seek does not exist,” Marcus sighed. “And I must beg for mercy for my parents, so that she releases them, and we may be a family once more.”

  “Marcus,” Tullia began, laying a soft hand on his well-toned forearm, “perhaps...”

  Just then an airy laugh invaded the quiet. Marcus groaned and Felix rolled his eyes as Fanchon pranced into view, followed by Dag laden with bundles, and Kyrene leading Cort by the hand. Cort carried a small parcel, which he proudly opened to reveal a robe of oat-colored flax and another of dove gray that were just his size.

  “The lad is growing, so it was necessary to buy him some new robes. His old clothes are getting a little tight and uncomfortable,” Kyrene explained.

  Cort smiled up at her in mute gratitude, and she tapped the tip of his pert little nose affectionately. It was apparent that Kyrene had adopted Cort, much as Dag had done. But then, how could one not love Cort? Marcus thought to himself.

  “And speaking of clothes, I found the most beautiful robes! I simply had to have them! It will be a memento for me of this fair city, no? Not that I am likely to forget such a...”

  Felix cut off the flow from Fanchon with a comment on the lateness of the hour, and the fact that Tullia’s parents would be wondering where she was. Marcus was startled to realize that more than two hours had passed since he began his tale. With a start, he noticed that her attendants had returned and were silently waiting in front of the library.

  Tullia rose slowly to her feet and took her leave of the little band. She invited them to come to the villa where she and her parents were staying on the afternoon of the following day.

  It was not thus that
Marcus had envisioned his reunion with Tullia, but for the present he must be satisfied.

  Chapter V

  A Proposal of Marriage

  He could not have asked for a more perfect afternoon. The day was fair, one of those June days when the grass was green, the air was soft, and the impossibly blue sky was festooned with billowing white clouds as fluffy as a featherbed.

  Marcus and Tullia strolled amiably in quiet appreciation through the lovely grounds of the Villa Alba which her mother had leased for the summer months. Her father Tullios was back in Valerium attending to the business of Empire. A Centurion in the Imperial Army, he did not have the leisure or the desire to travel through Moldiva that his wife did.

  Drusilla Octavius, on the other hand, never lost an opportunity to associate with those of a higher social status than her family. During the years when her husband had been stationed in Lycenium she found a world different from the city of Potentus, where the hierarchy was so clear-cut and confining. In Lycenium she mixed with those who would have considered her beneath their notice in the capital of the Valeriun Empire, where the wife of a Centurion was ranked far below that of a General’s wife, and less likely to rate an invitation to the Imperial Palace. In Lycenium, however, Drusilla and her daughter were frequent guests of the Governor, and dined with all of the leading citizens of that great metropolis.

  None of this was on the mind of Marcus as he promenaded the grounds with Tullia. The sweet scent of roses filled the air, mingled with the more subtle aroma of carnations. The formal gardens had been carefully laid out with the color scheme of red, white, and pink. The red roses on their sculpted bushes lent a vivid contrast to the delicate pink carnations and the airy spray of white baby’s breath that was scattered among the shrubbery and white stone benches.

  It conveyed a sense of order and stateliness, of dignity and discretion. And it was in this garden that Marcus decided to bare his heart to Tullia, of all that he felt for her, and the future he longed for.

  The others had tactfully left them alone, having gone for a row on the river in one of the estate’s boats. Felix balked, but Dag finally told him he was needed to help him row, for the girls were too frail and Cort too small. Felix glared at Dag, but backed down under the unwavering gaze of the older man and its unspoken command. He sullenly accompanied the others, though he warned Dag that in his present mood any aimless chatter on the part of Fanchon might result in her unceremonious dunking in the river. Dag merely smiled and replied that if such a thing took place he would see to it that Felix joined her for a swim.

  At last they were gone and Marcus was left alone with Tullia. He smiled at her tenderly and picked a red rose which he placed in her hand. She smiled in return, and bent her head to sniff its scent. Her eyes closed and her smile widened as she sighed. Marcus thought he had never seen a lovelier sight than the perfectly sculpted face framed by the black curls cascading over her white robe, with the rose raised to lips as red as its petals. And when Tullia opened her eyes, their color mirrored the blue of the sky.

  Marcus felt his heart skip a beat, and he was suddenly at a loss for words. Long had he imagined this moment and what things he would say to Tullia, but now he could think of none of them, and he was silent.

  They wandered side by side through the garden, and said not a word. Marcus felt the strain of the silence, yet Tullia seemed reluctant to break it. In the past he had appreciated her dignity and lack of giddy chatter as evidence of her superiority to other maidens her age. But today there was a constraint in her manner. She appeared uncomfortable, and it affected Marcus and his ability to find his tongue.

  They roamed through the garden, and climbed a flight of stone steps that formed part of a bridge that spanned a small pond. From the bridge they saw green lawns dotted by bushes grown so closely together that they fashioned a hedge. A line of massive pine trees provided further concealment from the eyes of the curious, and their living walls completed the sense of a screening partition. A fountain at the end of the grassy promenade was the only object made by human hands visible in this emerald enclosure.

  They lingered on the bridge, looking over the balustrade at a small family of white swans that glided on the still waters of the pond. Marcus mused to himself how like Tullia they were; graceful in movement, regal of bearing, with imperious heads carried with dignity on their long slender necks. Tullia twirled between her fingers the red rose Marcus had plucked for her, and stared down dreamily at the water.

  Seeing the way she held the rose, his rose, and the look of soft reverie in her eyes gave Marcus the courage to speak at last. He cleared his throat. Tullia started from her daydream and looked at him, with an air curiously like that of apprehension…

  “Tullia,” he began, “there is something of which I wish to speak to you.”

  He felt a warm color flush his face, and then the words he had stemmed back poured out in a rush of pent-up longing.

  “Oh, Tullia, I love you so much! All these long months of our separation I dreamed of telling you, of asking you to make me the happiest of men by consenting to give me your hand. Will you, Tullia? Will you have me?”

  He would not have thought it possible for anything to rival the redness of the rose Tullia carried. Yet her face put it to shame, as she blushed and stammered. So flustered was she that she dropped the rose, and Marcus saw it float slowly away in the gentle current of the pond.

  “Marcus, really, I, I do not know what to say,” Tullia stuttered.

  Marcus laughed awkwardly in his surprise. This was not the response he had envisioned in his imagination. What ailed the maiden?

  “Say? Why, say yes! That is all that you need to say,” he laughed with restraint.

  “But, Marcus,” she hesitated. “I cannot say yes,” she whispered as she averted her eyes from his own of piercing gray, and the fire of fervent ardor that burned in them.

  “What? Why not?” Marcus blurted out, his voice sounding strained to his own ears, his eyes riveted on the girl’s scarlet face.

  “How can I?” she responded in earnest. “Why, Marcus, your status has altered! Your father has lost his rank as General of the Imperial Army. His estate is confiscated, and you do not even have a home to offer me.”

  The sudden pounding in his ears reminded him of the slow, solemn beat of the drum played at the beginning of the funeral procession for a warrior fallen in battle. The matter of fact way in which Tullia spurned his proposal stunned him like a blow to his breastplate when he and Felix practiced fighting with their swords. Such an impact always required time to recover his breath which had been knocked from his lungs.

  It was several minutes before Marcus could reply.

  “A home? But what of my heart? I adore you, Tullia! Do you not return my love? Do my feelings mean nothing to you?”

  “What do feelings matter? We need to live somewhere once we are wed, if we wed. We could not impose on my family, after all. And your family is ruined.”

  Ruined. Ruined, she said. His family. So too his dreams and desires. Somewhere a crow cawed, and to Marcus it seemed like a voice of mockery, laughing at him with his fool’s hopes.

  Then he found his voice.

  “Tullia, yes, it is true that my family is imprisoned, my home confiscated. Yet I have another hope. I did not have the chance to tell you in our brief time together yesterday, but now I shall.

  “I am a changed man, Tullia. I am not the Marcus that you knew. I have found a new purpose in life, a hope to live for, and a cause to fight for, perhaps even to die for.”

  Tullia looked at him warily, bewilderment in her eyes. She waited for him to continue. And he told her of Dominio, of Alexandros and the Kingdom of Heaven.

  Tullia listened intently to his account, her eyes occasionally widening, sometimes blinking. But she said nothing.

  “So you see, Tullia, I do not fear the future, for Dominio will take care of me. He will provide a home, and a future, no matter what may befall my parents; although I earn
estly pray for their release and the restoration of our estate. But whatever may yet be, wherever my road will take me, there is one thing I desire above all else, that is that you walk beside me, and that we take the journey together.”

  He looked at her with all the love he stored up in his heart bared for her to see. But it moved her not. Gently, sadly even, she shook her head.

  “I am sorry,” she answered in a voice as silken as the robe that adorned her. “It is not possible.”

  Suddenly anger surged through him. How cruel, how terribly cruel after all he had endured over the last year, for his love to reject him. Then a niggling suspicion entered his mind.

  “Felix! It is Felix, isn’t it? He stole your heart from me while I was enslaved. How base, how utterly base of him to do such a wicked thing to a friend!”

  And Marcus clenched a fist and brought it down on the balustrade. So furious was he that felt no pain. But Tullia started and backed away from him. She held up one hand to her face as if to shield it from his wrath.

  “No, Felix has not stolen my heart. It is true that he consoled me when he told me we had lost you, but I do not love him.”

  “Did you ever?” Marcus spat out the words.

  Tullia stammered as she searched for her own.

  “Felix amuses me, and is interesting to talk with. He treats me as an intelligent woman and not as a silly young girl as some men I know. I confess there was a time when I wished to know him more.”

  “And then you met me, and it was different, is that right?” Marcus blurted out, still daring to hope. “Felix interested you no longer, because you met me?”

  “Well, yes, in a way,” Tullia answered. “But much has happened in a year, and even you have changed, Marcus. As you say, you have a new cause, a new purpose. It is one I cannot fathom. If I cannot see, I cannot believe.”