Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (24 page)

Marcus
recalled previous visits to the city, and how he and his family had spent many
pleasant days in this elegant haven of civilization. Indeed, it was a favorite
retreat for Valerium’s military who could relax in Lycenium in a manner that
was not possible in Valerium. Few could truly relax in the shadow of the
Imperial Palace, where many spies ran hither and yon to carry tales back to its
walls; nor was there to be found in Valerium itself the wealth of
sophistication and learning that was so readily available in Lycenium.

Indeed,
families of many nations encouraged their sons and daughters to spend time
absorbing the refinement of this unique city, and study the wealth of knowledge
it housed. It was commonly felt that in order to be truly prepared for life
that one must have a deeper acquaintance with the richer aspects of it, such as
the arts and learning, and nowhere in the world could one be polished more
gloriously than in Lycenium.

Marcus had not
yet done his apprenticeship in this city; although he knew that time would
come. But today he faced a more pressing matter that needed to be addressed.

For Lycenium
was merely a stepping stone that carried him ever closer to his destination:
the Imperial Palace of Valerium.

There he must
face the Empress Aurora and reveal the truth about the Pearl she had ordered
him to find and bring back for her.

Zoe brought
the boat into the port. As they glided on her course, they saw majestic bridges
of white granite whose arched pillars allowed ships to pass beneath their
mighty spans. Dag leaped out into the shallows at the pier and pulled the rope
attached to the boat. He waded through the water and wound the rope around a
post, pulling it tight and fastening it securely with the strong knots he had
learned in his forest abode.

They gathered
their bundles containing their belongings and entered the wide city gates.
Here, they met with no challenge, such as greeted them in Koohyaram, for
Lycenium was part of the Valeriun Empire, although it named as its citizens
strangers from foreign lands as well. Lycenium was a city that loved variety,
and the wanderer from the East was as welcome as the wayfarer from the West.

They were
greeted by a group of street musicians making merry on flute, drum, and lyre.
Several delighted children flocked around them clapping their hands and nodding
their heads to the beat of the drum. Marcus, knowing what was expected, dropped
a coin at their feet. The musicians smiled their thanks, and the small band of
friends went on their way.

As they made
their way down the cobbled road, they encountered a troupe of acrobats,
tumbling their way in and out of those who made their way on foot, and
impervious to the occasional chariot that pelted through the thoroughfare. It
became evident that the tumblers considered such encounters a challenge of
their skill, and they thrilled onlookers with the dexterity by which they
maneuvered around them. The chariot drivers did not see it in quite the same
light, and the air turned blue with their curses at those who obstructed their
way. Felix laughed at their colorful frustration, but Dag placed his hands over
Cort’s ears to shield him from such coarse language.

Scattered
along the street were hawkers selling food of various kinds at wooden stalls.
Each vendor had a portable brazier over which he or she was able to grill and
stew a variety of tempting dishes. The offerings included lamb wrapped in grape
leaves, roasted pork on a stick with onions and apples, a stew of goat meat
with potatoes and leeks, and a curious flat bread stuffed with crab, peppers,
and tomato.

Cort dashed
for the nearest stand and looked imploringly at Dag. The great man smiled
indulgently at the small boy and paid the cook for the meal. Cort closed his
eyes in bliss as he bit into the roasted pork and let out a sigh of
contentment. Dag chuckled and patted Cort’s shoulder. Fanchon’s eyes flashed
and her lips narrowed, but she said nothing.

After everyone
had eaten their fill of whatever dish caught their fancy, they moved on to
explore the city. The streets did not follow a uniform pattern of north and
south nor east and west, but rather were laid out in a pattern curiously like a
maze. From the city square they fanned out in a concentric design like a
semi-circle with streets criss crossing in straight lines connecting the next
concentric street.

The purpose
for this pattern was to reduce the chariot traffic that produced such a racket
and made walking difficult. When the chariots had a free flowing road they
monopolized it, driving at breakneck speed and imperiling any that stood in
their path. Such recklessness was well nigh impossible when one was forced to
take angles at reduced speed, and the pattern changed fairly often.

Such a design
also enabled strollers to walk unimpeded, and encouraged musicians to mingle
freely with the crowds. For the city fathers of Lycenium desired it to be a
place of culture and community, where the people came together in the square,
and met freely in the marketplace.

They had just
begun to explore some of the merchants’ wares when a sudden commotion caught
their attention. The crowds around them began to step to the side, creating an
aisle in the middle of the roadway. Curious as to what personage would create
such a stir, Marcus and his friends strained their necks around the crowd for a
clear view at the approaching dignitary.

Excited
whispers accompanied the arrival of the person who inspired the rapt attention
of the onlookers.

“Oh, there she
is again today! Did you ever behold such loveliness?”

“She smiled at
me! Well, perhaps not a smile as
we
call a smile, but she bowed her head
and her lips moved.”

“Like a
goddess she is! Look how gracefully she holds her head, how stately her
carriage! I told my little Odelia, now you just watch this grand lady, and
you’ll see how the nobility conduct themselves!”

At last the
lady in question came into view. Four attendants whose excellent physical
condition gave them the appearance of athletes fit to compete in the arena bore
on their shoulders a fine litter with curtains of elegant  crimson brocade,
drawn back to reveal the lady of whom the crowd spoke with such reverence. And
indeed, like a goddess she appeared; tall, dignified, with an upright carriage
and her small head tilted slightly back on her swan-like neck.

Her perfectly
carved features in an oval face appeared as if they had been chiseled by the
finest sculptor in marble: straight nose dividing a visage flanked with high
cheekbones softened by a gently curving jaw flowing into a rounded chin. Her
blue-black hair had the ebony shine of the jet stone; the light rippled on the
waves of shining tresses caught back with a band of blue gauze. With her
attendants holding her aloft, she glided gracefully through the assembly, not
glancing to left or right, as if those around her were merely the audience
around the stage of her existence.

Marcus felt
his chest tighten and he held his breath, his eyes riveted on the girl who was
approaching where he stood rooted to the ground. He scarcely heard Fanchon give
one of her airy comments on the scene, “If one actually
likes
tall women
and black hair, then I suppose she could be said to be beautiful, but in
Gaudereaux...” Her words fell on ears deaf with shock. He was aware of nothing
and no one except the vision that suddenly stopped with sharply drawn breath in
front of him.

It was Tullia.

“Marcus!”

Tullia’s voice
was barely a whisper. Motioning for her attendants to stop she floated from the
litter and swayed on her feet, as if scarcely able to keep her balance. The
movement had all the grace of a willow bough waving in the draft of a gentle
breeze.

“But it can’t
be! I was told you were dead!” she exclaimed in a slightly stronger voice.

She appeared
dazed as she stared at Marcus. He too, was fixed where he stood, unable to move
or to speak.

The sound of a
gasp nearby reminded him that they were not alone. His head whipped around to
look at Felix, who seemed distressed as his gaze darted back and forth from
Marcus to Tullia and back again. Aware of the curious looks of those around
them, and mindful that they were making a scene, Marcus decided to take the situation
in hand.

“No, I am
alive as you can see! But come, let us find some quiet place where we may speak
and I will tell you all!”

Tullia’s azure
blue eyes widened until they seemed like a summer sky reflected in a mountain
lake, as she nodded an understanding of Marcus’ intent. Yes, she seemed to say
in reply to his unspoken request. Let us not make a display of ourselves in a
public street, where all may witness a private matter. Marcus smiled back at
her tenderly and with gratitude for her sensitivity. Truly, she was a lady of
rare refinement and dignity!

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.