by L. M. Roth
When Aurora saw what she had done she screamed and flung herself on Valerius, who lay in agony on the floor.
“Valerius! Valerius, speak to me! I did not intend to harm you! For truly you are the only person I have ever loved.”
And Aurora burst into a passion of weeping. She pulled the dagger from Valerius’ wound, and flung it aside and cradled him in her arms, his crimson blood staining her emerald robe.
“Aurora,” Valerius whispered.
“Yes, Valerius,” she sobbed.
“I loved only one woman all my life. You know that, don‘t you?” he said to the weeping Empress.
“And who is that, Valerius? Who might that be?” she whispered as she smiled at him through her tears.
Valerius struggled to speak, his breathing labored now. He raised his head and looked Aurora in the eyes.
“My wife,” he stated, with the last of his strength. “My gentle Honoria. May you suffer as she did. May your life be cut short, even as hers was.”
Aurora stiffened and drew herself back. Valerius fought for breath and reached up a hand toward Marcus.
“My son,” he moaned. “All is well with us, my beloved son.”
“Father!” Marcus wailed. “Father, do not give up!”
But Valerius smiled softly at Marcus and moved no more.
For a moment Marcus could do nothing, nothing except stare at the body of his adored father. Then a cold anger burned in his heart, as cold and implacable as the blade of steel which had pierced the heart of his father. He turned to Aurora, who still gazed on the body of Valerius with blank, unseeing eyes.
“You,” he began in a low tone savage in its hostility. “You! You took my home, my mother, and my father! Were it not for Dominio and the grief it would cause His heart I would slay you on this spot. As it is, I pray that Dominio grants you mercy, for I feel none for you!”
“Nor do I!” a voice suddenly shouted behind Aurora. A scream erupted from her lips, and she fell forward over the body of Valerius and lay still.
Behind them, Elena stood gloating with a savagery that stunned those who beheld it. She removed the dagger from Aurora’s back and wiped the blood on her own robe. She smiled at Marcus with the smile of a triumphant warrior vanquishing a long detested foe.
“That was for my home, my mother, and my father!” she exulted. “I did what you could not do, you in your spineless beliefs!”
“Elena,” Marcus tried to speak, but his voice failed him.
Felix and Kyrene clustered around him, both of them weeping in anguish at the death of Valerius.
“Do not admonish me!” Elena scorned. “I knew you would never satisfy this wicked woman. I only accompanied you to take my vengeance for what her husband did to me!”
Vengeance. Marcus remembered the words of Logos that morning. Dominio already knew that Honoria was dead. And Marcus in a flash recalled the vision he had of her in the cave the previous summer, how she had sunk into the ground and did not rise again…
Marcus suddenly remembered also Elena’s story, of how the Prince had abandoned her to the slave market when he had to return home to his wife, who was jealous and would not tolerate Elena’s presence; and remembered also the sense of uneasiness he and Kyrene both felt when they departed from Gaudereaux. Why did he not ask Elena where the Prince and his wife lived?
How could he have been so blind, when he knew this girl had always mystified him and caused him at times to wonder at her motives? He had always wondered why, having witnessed so many miracles at the hand of Dominio, she had not pledged herself to him. Now he knew why: her desire for revenge had consumed her, blinding her to all else, leaving within her no room for repentance.
Now the guards were alerted and seized Elena, who spat at them, kicking and screaming. She cursed them in a ragged voice that none present had ever heard her use: her tone had always been as dulcet as a dove’s. But now like a hoarse, croaking raven she abused the guards in words terrible in their meaning.
Suddenly, she broke away from them and whirled defiantly to face them.
“You cannot hold me!” she sneered.
“Elena!” Felix cried. “What have you done? You have taken the life of another, and now your life is forfeit!”
Elena suddenly ceased her cursing, and panting hard for breath, turned dazed eyes upon Felix.
“It is true,” he told her gently. “What Aurora did to Marcus and his family, and what her husband did to you and yours was wrong, evil, but you did not right it by killing her. You have only harmed yourself.”
“No,” Elena whispered, as she shook her head, bewildered at the words of Felix.
“Yes, Elena,” Marcus rued, as he looked with sadness on the confusion of the former slave girl. “Do you not remember the word that was given to you in Grete’s Land? ‘It is time to choose: light or darkness, life or death. If you turn from your own way, Dominio will bless and keep you. But if you go your own way, He cannot protect you from the decisions you make, that may bring their own evil consequences.’ You were given a choice Elena: but you chose darkness and it will bring about your own death.”
Elena hung on the words of Marcus, but alas! too late for her own good. The guards took advantage of her sudden docility to grab her arms and tie her hands behind her back.
Seeing finally that there was no escape, she suddenly moaned and tears rolled down her face. Sobbing she implored the guards to release her, but they ignored her pathetic cries.
She turned to Marcus, imploring for his aid, but there was no aid he could give her, nothing to be done. Their last sight of Elena was her tear-stained face as the guards led her away to her execution.
Chapter XXXV
It Was She and She Alone I Sought
Marcus could not persuade Felix and Kyrene to permit him to travel alone to Lycenium. For he could not withhold the truth from Felix. He had contemplated leaving and saying nothing of his mission, but in the end he decided it was not right to keep Felix in the dark regarding Tullia’s fate.
Two weeks had passed since the day Aurora had accidentally killed Valerius, only to meet her own death at the hands of Elena. She had died without heirs, and as Urbanus was a cousin and therefore next of kin, he had been called from Gaudereaux to assume the reign of the Empire. He and Renata arrived on a quick little galley that sailed much faster than a passenger boat and were in Valerium within a week of Aurora’s demise.
The first official act he executed was to restore the estate of his father to Marcus. To Marcus, who had been homeless for more than two years, it was a tremendous comfort, although he would long mourn his parents. At least he no longer had to impose on the kindness of the Lucius family.
Marcus remained in Valerium just long enough to settle back into the villa and to reinstate his father’s loyal retainers to their old duties before setting out for Lycenium. Abandoning their little boat in favor of a larger and faster ship, he and his friends along with Silvia Lucius traveled quickly and arrived in Lycenium on a late October day just as the first leaves were beginning to fall.
They quickly disembarked and hired a chariot to convey them to the residence of Tullia’s mother Drusilla, who remained in Lycenium hoping for news of her daughter. As they entered the gates of the estate, it seemed to Marcus that the long row of crimson maple trees with slim black trunks that lined either side of the drive stood like sentinels on duty, challenging all who entered in.
Drusilla was nearly pathetic in her relief at seeing familiar faces, and she clung to her old friend Silvia with a child-like desire for comfort.
There was no news of Tullia, she told them sadly. One day passed into another, and her friends from Valerium had come for the summer and gone, but none heard anything of Tullia’s whereabouts. She began to fear that some grave misfortune had befallen her, and that her daughter was dead.
Marcus and Felix exchanged fearful glances at this statement.
It could not be, Marcus said to himself. I cannot have at last gained her l
ove only to lose her!
“What of Decimus?” he asked Drusilla abruptly. “Was not Tullia on her way to meet him, before she vanished? What does he say about it?”
Drusilla dabbed at her eyes with a delicate linen kerchief before she answered.
“He knows nothing more than anyone else,” she said. “Tullia did not keep their appointment.”
Marcus weighed this statement, but found he did not believe it. All his instincts cried out that Decimus was the last person to see Tullia before she vanished.
“Did he search their meeting place?” he asked. “Has he come to you with any further search reports?”
Drusilla did not answer immediately but pondered for a long moment.
“No,” she said the word slowly. “That is, yes, he searched their meeting place, but he has not attempted any further search efforts. Indeed, I have hardly seen him since Tullia disappeared, and before that he called on me every day as a courtesy.”
“Did you not find that rather strange?” Marcus asked her.
“In truth, I had not thought of it before, so worried have I been about my daughter.”
“Which is entirely understandable,” Felix soothed, as he placed his hands over hers.
“Where is Decimus to be found these days? At the Governor’s residence?” Marcus inquired, determined not to be deterred in his questioning.
“No,” Drusilla replied. “At this time of year he stays in his hunting lodge, which is quite secluded in the forest above Lycenium. It lies along the river and is quite lovely.”
Marcus asked for more detailed directions, and then bade her good night.
He took Felix aside.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered, “we hunt for that lodge, and track Decimus to his lair.”
A mist had stolen in with the dawn’s first rays, giving an eerie appearance to the river as they moved quietly along it. On either shore the trees reflected gold, russet, and green in the water below. The first fallen leaves carpeted the river, and seen through the vapor gave the illusion of a forest in the water as well as above it.
The sun shone but dimly through the dense fog, making the banks difficult to see. They whispered along the river like ghosts themselves, saying nothing, the oars of the boat they hired barely stirring the water as they glided on.
Drusilla had told them it was the custom of Decimus to hunt in the early morning, so Marcus was certain he would be absent from the lodge. He strained his eyes for a glimpse of it. A white stone building, round in shape, Drusilla had said.
They hurried on the river, sharing it only with an occasional swan or family of ducks. They spied a deer on the shore, which quickly fled from sight. Deep within the forest they heard the grunt of a wild boar as it crashed through the woods.
It was a beam of sunlight that at last revealed the lodge to their sight. It loomed up from the mist, a white cylindrical tower in lonely isolation. It appeared deserted, and no sound could be heard within its walls.
Marcus, however, was certain that Tullia was imprisoned there. He ordered the others to stop rowing, and they hastily pulled into shore and hid the boat in a small cluster of pine trees that grew close to the river’s edge.
Marcus put a finger to his lips and motioned for Felix and Kyrene to follow him through the copse of trees and thereby come upon the lodge from behind it, out of the range of curious or watchful eyes. They crept up to the nearest window and peered within.
They saw no one. They listened for several minutes but heard nothing. They walked the circumference of the lodge and peered in at every window, and listened for signs of life. But their search only met with disappointment.
Just as they were about to admit they were mistaken in their premise, a gusty breeze blew off the lake, and disturbed the leaves at their feet. And then Marcus spied it: a pile of leaves partially concealed a barred window covered in glass, half of which lay beneath the level of the ground. The breeze had dislodged enough leaves to reveal what they had passed by in their search.
Eagerly he scooped the leaves aside, clearing the obstruction and peered within. What he saw filled him with fear and outrage, for there was Tullia, bound to a wall. Her legs were in some sort of mud up to her knees, and she wearily hung her head beneath her outstretched arms, which were tied securely to metal rings in the wall behind her.
Marcus threw all caution aside. He picked up a large rock and smashed the glass, sending shards crashing into the room below.
“Tullia!” he cried into the barred window. “It is I, Marcus!”
The girl lifted her head.
“Marcus?” she called. “Is that really you, Marcus?”
“Yes! Where is Decimus?”
“He is hunting, but will soon return,” she quavered, and looked about the room as if already fearing his return.
“I shall be with you in just a moment,” Marcus assured her.
He found a nearby rock and with the help of Felix hoisted it and broke a window on the ground floor. They smashed all of the remaining glass out of the window then rolled into the room.
“I will go after Tullia; you stand guard until I return,” Marcus told Felix.
Felix’s eyes darkened and his lips tightened.
“I am going with you,” he fumed.
Marcus saw the uselessness of argument and shrugged his shoulders. They located a door that led to a lower level and clambered down a staircase where they found Tullia. Marcus nearly fell headlong into a pool of mire, but Felix saw it first and pulled him back.
There was a broad stone ledge that ran along the outer edges of the room and they carefully stepped along it to where Tullia was bound. In the short time they had spied her through the window she had sunk further and was now up to her waist in the mud. Marcus and Felix together undid her bonds and tried to extricate her from the mire.
Tullia was stuck fast. Further tugging brought only minor release, and they fretted over how best to release her, until Felix suggested taking the cords that had bound her and tying them together into one long rope. Then they could tie it about her waist and pull her out.
It took much effort and the combined strength of all three of them, but at last they pulled her out. Tullia burst into tears and clung to Marcus briefly before regaining her composure. Marcus knew that she would never have forsaken her customary dignity unless fatigued by her long ordeal.
He noted that Felix tightened his lips before turning abruptly away. As they mounted the stairs Tullia informed them briefly how her imprisonment came about.
“It was Decimus,” she said, her vice catching on a sob. “I refused his proposal; I told him I loved another and therefore could not marry him. And he became furious. He berated me, saying I made a fool of him, and that our parents and all our friends hoped we would wed. Then he hit me over the head with something, I know not what. Everything went black, and when I awoke I found myself a prisoner here. Decimus said he would hold me here until I came to my senses and married him. This morning he placed me here in this mire which seeps in from the river when the rains are heavy, and warned me I would die if I still refused him.
“But I cannot marry him! Oh, Marcus, Marcus, thank you for saving me!”
And Tullia melted against him and he held her close for a brief moment, his lips brushing her hair. Felix pursed his lips, turned his back on them, and stormed up the few remaining steps.
The others followed close behind him and had barely reached the ground floor when they heard noises. Suddenly, the door to the lodge flew open, and on the threshold stood Decimus Hadrianus, tall, astonished, and outraged.
Seeing Tullia free from her bonds, his face turned purple and he clenched his fists and stomped a foot.
“What are you doing invading my lodge?” he bellowed, a raging, maddened bull ready to charge.
“And how have you escaped your bonds?” he roared at Tullia.
Marcus stood between the trembling girl and the furious young man.
“How dare you? How dare you lay hand
s on her and hold her captive like some slave girl you mean to degrade!”
“Oh, I know all about you, Marcus Maximus!” Decimus sneered. “Your parents were imprisoned for treason, and you were a slave! You do not even have a home since yours was confiscated by the Empress!”
Decimus laughed, though his face was still red with rage.
“Surely you have heard by now that the Empress has lately died, and Governor Urbanus of Gaudereaux has assumed command of the Empire, and restored my estates to me.”
Marcus spoke in measured yet icy tones.
Decimus abruptly stopped laughing. A scowl exploded across his brow, and his fury found full vent.
“Is that so?” he mocked. “You are still, as the son of prisoners and a former slave yourself, beneath the station of this lady. Get out of my house now and take this rabble with you!” he said as he gestured contempt at Kyrene in her humble robes.
Kyrene flinched but said nothing.
Felix, however, could tolerate no more.
“You have already abused one lady: I’ll not permit you to insult another!”
Kyrene tugged at his sleeve, but Felix did not heed her. Marcus decided to put an end to matters before they grew worse.
“Enough, Felix. We will be going now. Goodbye, Decimus. If I were you I would leave Lycenium and never come back. For when we return Tullia to her parents we shall give a full report of what you did to her. I doubt you will be welcome there any longer.”
“Come, Tullia,” he said, as he took her by the arm.
She gave him her hand and they started for the door, followed by Kyrene.
Decimus stared at them in disbelief, then pushed Kyrene aside and lunged for Tullia, raising his right arm as he did so. Marcus turned toward her and saw a bright flash, and Felix immediately thrust himself between them and shouted to Marcus.
“No, Decimus! Get her out of here, Marcus! Take her away!”
Then a groan escaped Felix’s lips and Marcus turned to find his friend face down on the floor, a pool of blood flowing by his side.