Empress Aurora Trilogy Quest For the Kingdom Parts I, II, and III Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) (28 page)

On they went,
through the forest, their small boat weaving in and out of the islands. As they
traveled further, the trees on the shore grew taller and closer, the elms and
maples that harbored the birds gave way to towering pines and majestic spruces.

They rushed on
for miles, how many they did not know, and the further they went, the thicker
the trees clustered on the shore of the river bank. The sun of high noon began
to wane, and clouds out of the southwest suddenly darkened the sky. On they
came, not the billowy white of Lycenium, but the ominous black of looming
thunder.

The breeze
that had been so gentle only a few hours before now picked up intensity. It
began to stir the river, so that ripples spread out to the shore, and tiny
waves lapped at the boat.

“Hark!” Dag
suddenly cried out. “The birds do not sing,” he remarked, as a frown furrowed
his brow.

Marcus also
became aware of the silence, and glanced uneasily at the trees. There were no
birds flying or nesting on the branches of the mighty trees. Instead, he
noticed for the first time, they had descended to the ground. He knew what that
signified: the birds with their uncanny sense knew that a storm was pending.
And their little boat was on the river with no shelter in sight. They were laid
bare to the elements, vulnerable and unprotected.

“Well,” Felix
commented with a hint of strain in his voice. “I feel I could use a good walk
after hours in this boat. Let us explore the woods and see the lay of the land.
Perhaps we can find some friendly inhabitants who will kindly shelter us for
the night.”

“Right,”
Marcus agreed, lifting an eyebrow at Felix, in a conspiratorial gesture they
had long used.

Felix nodded
in return. No need, it meant to alarm Cort and the girls by the danger of their
situation.

Marcus glanced
away from Felix, shrinking back from the momentary intimacy. They had not been
alone or talked together since the day Felix confessed to Marcus his role in
all of the woes that had befallen him last year. Felix had taken another room
at the inn, but the others had made no comment on this fact, reluctant to
intrude on the privacy of their friends. Marcus deduced that they attributed
any strain between the two of them to their mutual love for Tullia: that there
was a deeper cause for their rift was not known to them.

And yet…Kyrene
had stated to Felix on her first meeting them that all was known and not
concealed as he thought. Had she any inkling, Marcus wondered? Then he decided
she did not, as she continued to treat Felix in the same friendly manner she
always had, not seeming to sense any betrayal on his part toward Marcus. Xenon
had told them that when one prophesied one did not always know to what it
referred, and had to give the word in faith, perhaps never knowing what the
prophecy meant.

Marcus had
decided to forgive Felix, but twinges of anger remained. He could only pray for
healing of his own battered heart, and trust that Dominio would give him
strength for the journey. But he was not yet ready to exchange gestures of
friendship with Felix. The wound was too new, too raw, and the hurt still
tender.

Suddenly, the
wind whipped up, and thunder could be heard in the distance, moving closer to
where they still sat in the boat. They used no oars and therefore could not
steer the small boat. All they could do was pray and ask Dominio to allow Zoe
to release them from the River and guide them to shore. They held hands and
bowed their heads to pray.

Just then a
gust of wind slammed against the boat, almost upending it. It caused a wave to
rise up that carried them to the nearest shore. They seized their chance and
spilled out of the boat into the shallows, and waded to the river bank. Dag and
Felix carried the boat on their shoulders, and they set off into the forest.

But before
they could enter the trees, the rain came, pouring down in a teeming torrent
that battered their faces and soaked their clothing. Such was the force of the
downpour that raindrops pelted their eyes, forcing them to shut their lids
against the sting. The rising wind hit with a gale force that tore their breath
from their lungs and whipped their cloaks around them. Struggling to see, they
stumbled blindly, trying to stand in the wind.

“Get under the
boat and hold onto each other,” Felix shouted. “Head for the trees!”

They hurriedly
clustered under the boat, each one grabbing the belt of the person ahead of
them. In this way they made it into the forest, where the rain could not
penetrate as thoroughly through the thickly entwined branches of the towering
trees. They stood for a moment, gulping air into their lungs, attempting to
wring out their saturated robes, and shaking water out of their eyes. Together
they clustered under a mighty pine with low-lying branches, and watched as the
rain met the river with such intensity that the waters mingled. And the drops
bounced off the current, and the current swirled the rain and they became one.
The wind blew across it and waves rose up in crests that threatened to come
ashore.

And then the
trees began to fall. First an old fir only about thirty feet away crashed to
the ground with such force that the earth shook beneath it. Then another fell
to join it only a few feet beyond it. And then another…

Sheer terror
overtook them as they ran to get away from the falling trees. But even as they
raced further into the forest, hampered by the boat, trees continued to be
felled by the gale.

“Stay
together! Look for a shelter,” Felix struggled to shout over the wind.

Deeper into
the forest they ran, hoping the winds could not penetrate the interlocking
branches. But they were wrong. The trees fell relentlessly, and those that remained
standing whipped their branches across their faces as they fought to make their
way through them.

Fanchon cried
out in fear as she strived to keep going.

“Make it stop!
Make it stop, Dominio!” she wailed.

Cort also had
difficulty running against the wind. The small boy and the fragile girl were
propelled forward by its battering rage.

Just then they
came to an unexpected clearing in the forest floor. They faced a rocky plateau
that rose before them to a height of at least fifty feet. The summit was roofed
in long grass with trees dotted here and there on its surface, but the wall
that faced them was built of what appeared to be gray shale, smooth and sharp.
At its base they saw a narrow opening of perhaps five feet across.

“Look!” Kyrene
exclaimed. “A cave! Perhaps it is large enough for us to shelter in for the
night.”

The others saw
it also and laughed in relief, but Marcus hesitated. There was something in the
appearance of that cave, indeed in the violent storm that made him uneasy.

“Perhaps we should
explore it thoroughly before taking shelter there,” he cautioned, pitching his
voice over the howl of the wind.

Dag objected.

“We must get
Cort and the girls out of this wind. They are too light to stand up to it,” he
protested.

At that
moment, Marcus heard a crack behind him, and Felix pulled him by the arm and
pushed him to his left so hard that he was knocked to the ground. Then Marcus
saw the reason why: a huge fir tree crashed in a heap right where Marcus had
stood only seconds ago. Were it not for the quick action by Felix he most
certainly would have been killed or injured. Shaken, Marcus rose to his feet
and stared at Felix. Before he could say a word, Dag intervened.

“What did I
tell you? Now, we must run into the cave and out of harm’s way!”

So they ran
without wasting any more words into the narrow opening. They could only enter
one at a time, but the cave was deep enough to hold them all comfortably. A
stone ledge hung over the entrance; and the rain washed off of it, leaving the
cave floor dry.

From its
shelter they watched the fury of the storm. The wind lashed at the trees and
those that didn’t fall were bent over by its savage ferocity. The rain flew
horizontally past the cave opening, still pouring in sheets of cascading water.
Thunder boomed, shaking the ground so fiercely it seemed it must surely crack
open. Lightning split the inky blackness of the evening sky with dazzling
flashes of incandescent light. As it did so towering thunder clouds were
revealed in a lofty formation that seemed not of this world but another, one
more mysterious and lovely, where strange powers might invade and surprise them
unexpectedly as they went about their everyday lives. In truth, it was so
beautiful that it mesmerized them, although Dag cautioned them to step further
back from the door of the cave.

Marcus
realized with a start that Dag and Felix had been leading them through this
storm. Was it because he felt dead and useless inside? Did the others see in
him what he felt? The thought did not please him. This task had been assigned
to him after all, and it was to him, Marcus Maximus, that Xenon had given the
fabulous Sword, Logos.

He suddenly felt
an unexpected and unreasonable anger rise within him. He should have been the
one to give orders and direct them to safety, not Dag or Felix. And as for
Felix, were it not for him Marcus would perhaps not be in the cave at all, but
might be lying dead beneath the fallen fir tree.

But then, if
it were not for Felix he would not be on this quest at all, because his father’s
estate would not have been invaded, nor Valerius and Honoria imprisoned, nor
Marcus taken captive and thrown into slavery. Were it not for Felix…

He could not
bear to be in the same space with him. Yet to venture out into the storm was to
court death. Marcus walked away from the others toward the back of the cave. If
he could find even a small space to call his own it would suffice.

Dag, in the
meanwhile, had rooted his gunnysack in search of rags, a long spike, and a
flint. The resourceful Trekur Lender had spent many years on long journeys and
was well prepared for any emergency. He produced what he needed, and made an
impromptu torch. He created a flame by striking the flint against a loose
pebble from the cave floor, and lit the torch.

Now at last,
they could see the interior of their improvised shelter. It went back farther
than they had seen at first, and there was another opening at the back that led
into a small room. This provided more protection from the howling wind and they
quickly filed into it.

The air in the
enclosure was stifling, and their voices echoed when they addressed each other.
Were it not for the torch Dag had made, they would have seen nothing in the
intense blackness that enveloped them. After further exploration, they discovered
yet another interior chamber that led into a third. Peering into it they spied
another crack that revealed a long hall of stone, but where it led to they did
not want to explore in the darkness of night.

“Not that it
will be lighter by day because there is no light in a cave, no? But at least it
feels safer to wait until daylight to see where that hall leads,” reasoned
Fanchon with a logic that Marcus felt, for once, almost made sense.

They decided
that they should guard the exterior and interior openings from intruders of
human or animal kind. So Dag opted to position himself in the first interior
chamber, with Felix to take turns on the watch. Cort, Kyrene, and Fanchon would
sleep in the second chamber, and Marcus chose the third that exited into the
inner hall.

He did not
relish the thought of the opening into a deeper darkness, but he wanted a space
away from the others. His long months in captivity had taught him how to sleep
light enough to hear the steps of any intruder, so he settled himself down to
nap.

Instead,
exhausted by the struggle in the storm, and weary with the weight of his
suppressed emotions, he fell at once into a deep sleep.

Marcus lay in
the dark, unheeding the world around him. Outside the cave the storm raged on,
taking down the sylvan sentinels and turning them into heaps of mangled limbs
and branches, as thunder shook the ground, and the air sizzled with lightning
strikes.

But Marcus
knew it not. He dreamed…

He saw himself
and Felix as children. He watched as he strutted around with a wooden sword,
wearing an old cast off pair of his father’s army boots that were far too large
for him. He paraded around the lawn of his father’s estate, while Felix clapped
his hands and laughed. Marcus continued to march around, but Felix’s laughter
gradually died, and a scowl darkened his young face. Then Marcus challenged
Felix to a race in the garden, and they ran pell-mell along the bricked paths,
while Marcus shouted, “I am winning, I am winning! You cannot keep up with me,
Felix!”

Suddenly,
Felix stumbled and fell, skinning one knee. Though he tried to stifle them,
unmanly tears erupted and overflowed. Marcus taunted him, but a whirl of white
linen came between himself and Felix, and his own mother scooped Felix up in
her arms. She sat on a stone bench and examined the hurt, then turned with a
gentle reprimand to her son.

“For shame,
Marcus! Felix tries so hard to keep up with you; it is not right to taunt him
so! A true soldier is also a gentleman, your father would tell you that.”

Marcus felt
shame overcome him as his mother dried Felix’s tears. He knew from experience
that when his loving mother did not support him in a disagreement that he had
truly done wrong. He turned away from them, not willing to see his mother take
Felix’s side.

The scene
shifted abruptly. He saw a figure stand before him in the cave, its back turned
to him. He rose from his makeshift bed to face the figure. On hearing his
movement, the figure turned and he saw the face of his mother, Honoria. She
looked at him with the blank, staring eyes of one who walks in their sleep. She
turned away from Marcus, and walked deeper into the cave, entering the fissure
that led deeper into the cliff side. Marcus followed her as she entered and walked
the hallway that he now saw descended into the heart of the earth. He had no
torch, and yet he could see because there was an eerie glow that permeated the
chamber.

Still Honoria
walked on, going lower and deeper, never looking back. Marcus followed until
she came to yet another opening into another chamber.

Here, he saw
Tullia. At least, he saw part of Tullia. Only the upper part of her torso was
visible because she stood up to her waist in quicksand that covered the floor
of the chamber. Frantically, she tried to free herself, only to sink further
into the mire. Then in panic she screamed.

“Help! Save
me, somebody, save me! Can anyone hear me? Save me, or I will perish!”

Marcus tried
to call to her, to tell her not to fear. He would find a rope and bring her out
safely. He turned back to the opening to ask his mother to comfort Tullia while
he searched for rope.

But Honoria
had vanished. He turned back to Tullia. She was gone. The chamber floor was
dry; there was no quicksand.

Marcus looked
around him and saw that he was indeed in a chamber that led off the inner hall.
So he had left his resting place and walked in the dark without stumbling or
falling led by…who? His mother? Was it a vision, or only a dream?

Tullia. Tullia
struggling in quicksand. But there
was
no quicksand. Was she in trouble?
Did she indeed need to be rescued?

The thought
haunted Marcus. Though she rejected him he still loved her, still cared for
her: nothing would change that, not ever. And a flame surged up within him. If
she was in trouble, he would rescue her, rejection or not, and even if she
never returned his love. He would not leave her to some horrible fate!

And Felix,
crying in his mother’s arms? Suddenly, Marcus was overcome by the sense of
shame he had felt in the dream. Yes, he
had
boasted often, he could see
that now. How he had gloried in his father’s renown, rank, and riches! He had
so emulated his father that even as a child he had demanded the respect of all
those around him, simply because he was the son of Valerius Maximus, Commander
of the Imperial Army. And yet, just as in his dream, his father’s boots were
too large for him. And the sword he wielded was a useless wooden toy.

Had
he taunted
Felix? Yes, he must be honest and admit he had. If not with words, he certainly
had in his attitude. Marcus took it almost as his due when Tullia and other
maidens showered him with attention, while treating Felix as a brother. And
just as in the dream, Felix fell trying to compete with Marcus. He had fallen;
fallen into temptation and betrayed his dearest friend.

And yet, it
was Felix that his mother comforted in the dream, while she rebuked Marcus for
his pride.

Was this dream
sent to him by Dominio? Was He trying to communicate something to Marcus?

The night
passed without further incident. Although Marcus lay in the dark with his
thoughts, no visions came to disturb his meditation, no dreams to trouble his
rest. In vain he attempted to sleep, but his mind ran in circles and slumber
eluded him.

In the morning
they congregated in the outer chamber. The storm had ceased and all was still.
After breaking their fast with bread, cheese and dried fruit, they ventured to
peer out of the opening of the cave.

What they saw
was a transformation of the forest. More trees had fallen in the night; some
even lay in the clearing. For a moment, the little band stared in stunned
silence. What havoc a mighty wind could wreak!

It was Felix
who spoke first.

“We must thank
Dominio for sheltering us in the storm, and bringing us safely through.”

They all joined
hands, and one by one gave their thanks in heartfelt gratitude. Were it not for
the cave they could not have survived the ferocity of the storm!

They prepared
to journey on, only to have their way impeded here and there by fallen trees.
It became necessary to climb over the trunks and take care not to become
entangled in the branches. Such difficulties made their way arduous and
prolonged the trek back to the River Zoe.

As they
trudged along Dag entertained them with stories of Trekur Lende, where they
would shortly return. They should arrive in time for the great Festival of
Bjorrne, he said, when all the villagers celebrated the long summer days and
paid homage to their god. Marcus and Felix had heard of this before, and Cort
had taken part in such festivities, but Kyrene and Fanchon heard it for the
first time.

Of course, Dag
said, he did not worship Bjorrne now that he was an Alexandrian, but the long
days with no night was a sight to see! And if they saw the Lights of Rainbow
Hue they would be awed by their glory. What a sight that was, as it blazed in
the sky, yah?

Marcus had
never heard Dag talk so much. Fanchon must be loosening his tongue, he thought.
I only hope he does not become as voluble as she is, or they will both talk and
no one will listen, no? He caught himself using Fanchon’s byword, and with
difficulty stifled a laugh. Only to make the mistake of glancing at Felix, who
openly grinned at him.

The grin
proved too much, and Marcus felt a snicker escape him. He attempted to quench
it, but Felix lost control and guffawed helplessly, reducing Marcus to a heap
on the ground as he lay face down, waves of laughter erupting from his throat
like lava from a volcano.

Dag glanced at
Marcus, then at Felix, his face impassive. Felix attempted to regain his self-control,
but howled in glee, while Marcus shook with mirth. At last, the laughter
stopped, and Marcus sat up. He attempted to stand, but his legs wobbled, and he
plunked back on the ground. Felix, wiping tears from his eyes, strode over to
Marcus and held out his hand.

Marcus
hesitated a moment, then gave Felix his hand. Felix pulled him to his feet, and
they stood for an awkward moment looking into each other’s eyes.

Then Marcus
extended his arm and put his hand on Felix’s shoulder. Felix returned the
gesture, and Marcus nodded his head. Felix let out a sigh and a smile of such
sweetness lit his face that Marcus gasped. And smiled in return.

And then the
laughter began again. And they succumbed to it without a fight.

Dag looked at
them in genuine puzzlement.

“Why do you
laugh?” he asked with a frown. “What is so droll?”

Marcus
hastened to stem the flow of giggles.

“Oh, nothing,”
he answered Dag. “Nothing at all.”