Lucius (ONC 2021)

3

The messenger appeared in the distance.

Decius shaded his eyes as he saw the cloud of dust raised by the horse and rider approaching him and his legion as they stood halted before the shrine of Marquin. Why do they come to meet us? We are but several hours' march from Fure.

A shudder struck him. Something must have happened. Something horrible.

Decius dismounted hurriedly, giving his horse's reins to an aide. Turning, he accepted the basket of offerings that had been prepared for the shrine of Marquin. It was a custom for travelers who passed the temple to leave an offering for the Forelooker.

As Decius mounted the steps, kneeling to place the basket near one of the pillars, a movement in the entrance caught his attention. He glanced up to see a young woman standing there, dressed in a long, simple grey gown, belted at the waist and flowing until it touched the tops of her bare feet.

The Forelooker.

"I leave my offering," he said respectfully, rising but keeping his head bent slightly. "Please accept it, priestess."

The woman inclined her head. "It is accepted, Decius Numas."

Decius furrowed his brow. "How come you to know my name?"

She looked at him. "Your father is written in your features, as clear as day to one such as me."

He frowned. The Forelooker wasn't much older than he was, perhaps even younger. She wouldn't have been the one Sipio and Pirilius had consulted concerning Lucius, all those years ago, but the replacement. How could she know his father's appearance when he didn't even know what he looked like? His confusion must have been written just as clearly on his face because the Forelooker gave him a slight smile. "I am the Forelooker, remember? Marquin has gifted me with his sight."

Decius moved his gaze to the rapidly approaching messenger. And what does Marquin's sight tell you about that, Forelooker?

She followed his gaze. "That bodes ill."

Decius glanced at her in surprise and she returned his look gravely. "Go, Decius Numas. You are needed sorely in Fure."

Decius descended the temple steps, moving toward his horse as the messenger reached the legion. Throwing his weight backward, the messenger forced his horse into a sliding stop, kicking up plumes of dust.

"Commander!" the messenger declared. "I come from Fure with an urgent message from the Lady Tarquil."

Decius looked up at the messenger, fear in his heart. Why would Tarquil send him a message? Why not Sipio? Something must have happened, something bad, if Tarquil was the one sending the messenger.

"State your message," he said calmly, fighting against the fear and unease inside him.

"The Lady Tarquil requests your immediate return to Fure," the messenger said, his face solemn. "Our king Sipio has joined the gods."

It took a moment for the words to hit Decius; when they did, it was like the slap of cold steel, the sharp edge biting into his skin. Lucius Sipio, the closest thing he had known to a father, a mentor, was dead.

Dead.

Irrevocably, irreversibly dead.

Decius snatched up the reins of his charger and mounted up. "Publius, Musia, Conius, you ride with me," he ordered. "Agrippa, you lead the legion back to Fure. We will ride ahead."

The messenger nudged his horse up beside Decius'. "Commander, Sipio's son Lucius sends a message as well. He tells you to ride swiftly, but on your guard."