“You have not asked Lara,” Elin noted.
“My wife will be with me in the war council,” Vartan replied smoothly. “As she has lived much of her life in Hetar her advice is invaluable. Sholeh knew that beforehand, Elin.”
“Mayhap she has been sent by Hetar to mislead us,” Adon said softly.
“You are a fool, Adon,” Lara said, and then she turned to Bera. “They had the same father?”
“Sometimes I wonder,” Bera replied dryly.
“Why is it that my words are never considered seriously?” Adon demanded.
“Because,” his mother said, “you do not consider your words first, my son.”
Later as they lay amid the furs that made up their bed Vartan made plans with his wife, “We must leave just before the dawn, when we are least likely to be seen. How long do you think we will be gone? A day? Two days?”
Lara shook her head. “The magic of the Shadow Princes brought Noss and me through the cliff tunnel to the Outlands. When we looked back those same cliffs were gone, or at least so distant that we could not possibly have traveled that far from them in a single day. Tonight I will put my mind to reaching out to Kaliq. We will leave before dawn as you suggest, and see what happens, my husband.” Then her hand went to the crystal.
“Does Ethne agree?” he teased her.
“Ethne has been silent of late,” Lara admitted.
He reached out for her, but she pushed him away, and he looked at her surprised.
“We must conserve our strength for the journey ahead, Vartan,” she counseled him wisely, and with a sigh he nodded, giving her a chaste kiss. Then turning away from her he fell quickly asleep. Say something, she whispered to Ethne.
Rely on your instincts. The flame flickered and banked low. Lara then called out to Kaliq and hoped that he heard her. I need your counsel, Kaliq. Come to me. Finally, she slept.
In the dim light before the dawn two eagles rose up from the encampment of the Gathering, and flew toward the Desert. The birds soared in silence throughout the morning, but as the sun reached the midway point in the heavens Lara saw a great tree ahead of them. It stood alone amid the plain, and was covered with golden leaves.
“Vartan,” she called to her husband as he flew by her side. “We must descend to the ground beneath that tree.”
The two eagles dropped down until their clawed feet touched the ground below, and they uttered the words that restored them to human shape. Under the tree a table had been set for three. There was a joint of meat, bread, cheese, fruit and a jug of wine.
Lara laughed, delighted. “Kaliq! Where are you, dear friend?”
And immediately the Shadow Prince stepped seemingly from inside the great tree. “Lara,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her forehead, “it is good to see you again.” Releasing her he turned immediately to her companion, “And you will be Vartan of the Fiacre. I am Kaliq of the Shadow Princes. Why have you sought me?”
“May we sit down, and refresh ourselves?” Lara said gently.
“I am sorry,” the prince apologized. “You have traveled a long way this morning, and you must return to your Gathering by nightfall. Eat, drink and we will talk.”
The two men stared at one another. Kaliq, tall, dark-haired and bronzed from the sun of his Desert, his light-colored eyes in vivid contrast. Vartan, tall, dark-haired and bronzed from the winds of the plains, his blue eyes suspicious as he frankly examined the man who had been his wife’s lover, and was yet her friend.
“Thank you for coming to meet us,” Lara told Kaliq. “And in such elegant fashion! Does the tree belong here, or is it one of your delicious illusions?”
“You see how well she knows me, Vartan,” the prince said with a smile. “You were right to make her your wife, but be warned, this small difficulty you now face is but the beginning of her destiny.”
Vartan’s jaw tightened, but before he might respond the prince spoke again.
“Do not be angry with me for knowing what you cannot. Even Lara does not know. She must follow her instincts,” Kaliq said. “And do not be jealous of me, Vartan. I had to let her go. Now, how may I help you?”
They sat down at the table beneath the tree, and while Vartan spoke, Lara served them food, and poured Frine from the jug.
“The Devyn brought word to me that our mountain clan families had been invaded, but only at our Gathering did we learn the seriousness of what is happening, my lord prince,” Vartan began. “The leaders of both families managed to escape that they might reach us, but it took them months to effect this escape. The Crusader Knights have killed innocents and are pillaging the land. Hetar has violated a centuries-old treaty between us. We must drive them out of the Purple Mountains before winter, and we have little time to do so. Each day we wait, they entrench themselves deeper into the Piaras and Tormod territories, and their people suffer greatly.”
“What do you want of me?” Kaliq asked.
“We need to learn,” Lara broke into the conversation, “if the High Council has approved this incursion, my lord prince, and if so, why? Two of your like sit on that council. They would know, and we must know. Even now my lord Vartan is assembling a mighty army to go to our clan families’ aid, but the Crusader Knights are a fierce foe, and many will be killed before this is settled.”
“I do not know if the High Council approved this incursion into the Outlands, Lara,” the prince told her. “I will seek the answer to that question. But I do know the men who invaded the territories of the Piaras and the Tormod are not Crusader Knights. The Crusader Knights are noble in their thoughts, hearts and deeds. They fight only to keep Hetar safe from harm. There is no danger from your clan families to Hetar, and they know this. And Crusader Knights would not enslave a people, and carry on a commercial enterprise. This smells to me of the Merchants Guild, and your old friend, Gaius Prospero,” Kaliq said. “It could very well be that the council is in ignorance of what is happening in the Purple Mountains. Or it might be that some of them have been bribed to look the other way. But our representatives would know that.”
“I would learn who the head of the High Council was late last autumn, or in early winter,” Lara told him.
Kaliq chortled. “It is not a wager I should put money on, Lara, for again I will bet that it was Gaius Prospero. He would have been able to bribe everyone but our princes, and perhaps the Coastal Kings depending on who sat on the council then.”
“The Felan have land along the sea,” Vartan said. “The gentle hills along the coast are perfect for their sheep. They have always lived in harmony with the Coastal Kings. They allow them to put in for water, and fish in the seas off their shoreline. I believe that Rendor has friends among the Coastal Kings.”
“Even one’s allies are open to the right bribe,” Kaliq said.
“Then why should we trust you?” Vartan demanded. “We do not know you.”
Kaliq laughed. “You do not, Vartan of the Fiacre, but Lara does, and she trusts my brothers and me. Do you not, Lara?”
Suddenly she was swept back to that night when Kaliq had shared his passion for her with the other Shadow Princes. She almost blushed with the memory of the delights they had all enjoyed, for she had eventually remembered. Then in a burst of clarity she realized the lesson they had taught her that night. Trust! She had trusted them not to harm her, and they had not. They had instead offered her pleasures such as she had never before imagined. “Yes,” she answered him in a strong voice, and their eyes met briefly. Then she turned to her husband. “I do trust the princes, Vartan, and so should you.”
He had not missed the silent byplay between his wife and Prince Kaliq, and he swallowed down his jealousy. Had she not warned him he would be jealous, and had he not strongly insisted that he would not? He could not fail her, and shame her before this prince. “If you trust the Shadow Princes, Lara, my love and my life, then I shall trust them, too.”
The faintest of smiles brushed Kaliq’s lips, and he nodded with respect t
o the clan chieftain of the Fiacre. He was worthy of Lara, the prince thought. Then he said, “I will learn immediately what it is you need to know. If you will wait for me here I will return before sunset.” He waved his hand, and the table with its chairs and dishes disappeared. In its place was a reclining couch large enough for two, a small table by its side bearing a decanter and two small goblets.
“That is not subtle at all, Kaliq,” Lara scolded him with a giggle.
“We cannot wait, my lord,” Vartan said. “If we do not begin our return journey now we will not be back in time for the evening feasting. It is when we all come together, and speak.”
“Take your pleasure while I seek out the answers you need,” the prince said. “I will see you are returned to the Gathering place in time.” Then, stepping back, he seemed to disappear into the bark of the huge tree.
“We cannot wait,” Vartan repeated.
“His magic will put us back where we should be at the proper time,” Lara said. “Please trust him, Vartan. I know you said you do, but I also know you said it for my sake, and Kaliq knows it as well. Both of us realize your hesitation stems from your jealousy.” She took his hand, and led him to the reclining couch. “Will you deny us the pleasure of this moment when we are alone, and have a bit of privacy?” She undid her gown, and let it fall to the grass beneath her sandals. Her beautiful naked body glowed in the sunlight of the midautumn afternoon. “After last night, I long to be between your strong thighs, my husband. I ache to be filled again with your manroot. Come into my arms, my lord.” She began to undress him, and a slow smile lit up his face.
Damn the handsome Shadow Prince who had once known the pleasure of his wife’s passion! Lara was his alone. Her soft words, and gentle hands were arousing him. He gladly gave in to her blandishments and helped her so that shortly they stood nude, arms about each other. Her hands slipped down his long back, to cup and caress his tight buttocks. Her fingers brushed over his hot length, running beneath it to fondle the sac holding his seed. He growled deep in his throat, and his mouth found hers in a searing kiss.
Lara sighed at the touch of his lips on hers. Sighed again as those lips traveled first over her face, then blazed a fiery trail down the slender column of her neck. His big hands enclosed her waist, lifting her up to kiss the shadowed valley between her breasts. He licked at her nipples, and her eyes closed in anticipation. His mouth closed over first one breast and then the other, suckling at them hungrily. She clung to him, eager for what was to come as he lay her upon the large reclining couch, but today he surprised her.
She lay spread open to him, but he did not immediately fit himself between her legs. Instead he sat upon the couch next to her, and drizzled a bit of Frine onto her torso. Then lowering his head he began to lick it up, his tongue moving frantically to keep up with the individual droplets running across her body. Soon the liquid was all gone and Vartan moved to kneel between her limbs. His busy tongue moved lower until it was pushing between her nether lips, until he found that delicate nub of flesh that gave such delight when properly encouraged. He touched it lightly with just the tip of his tongue. Then he began flicking at that fleshy kernel until Lara was whimpering, and her slender body trembled with excitement and she cried out. It was a sound of satisfaction that caused him to smile. He was as hard as rock, and without further ado he covered her body with his and entered her.
“Ahhh!” Lara half sobbed as his manroot filled her. “Oh, my lord, yes! And yes again, and yet again!” She wrapped her legs about his hips. Her arms clung tightly to him. Her entire body was atingle with their joining. Her fingers kneaded his broad shoulders. She tried not to scratch him, but he laughed softly in her ear.
“Mark me with your claws, my love!” he encouraged her. He could feel himself swelling inside of her, feel the muscles of her love sheath embracing him. He groaned as her nails raked down his back enjoying the slight stinging pain which but added to his excitement. He began to move on her.
Lara sobbed with the pleasure they were sharing. Her head began to spin, and starbursts in a thousand rainbow hues burst behind her closed eyes. Every part of her felt alive with his love. She could feel her nipples pressing against him as he crushed her breasts against his chest. She savored the great length of him as he thrust again and again into her molten core. And then she sensed the coming storm of passion that would leave them both weak and satisfied. It exploded within them simultaneously and they cried out together with one voice.
Afterward they lay quietly in each other’s arms, the soft late afternoon breeze brushing over their damp bodies. Finally Vartan spoke.
“You know that I love you, Lara.”
“Yes,” she answered. Nothing more.
“Can you not say it, my wife?”
“I do not believe in love,” she replied. “I have said it before. Why does it now come as a surprise to you? I have a faerie woman’s cold heart, Vartan. But I will tell you that I have never before experienced the kind of pleasure that we share. Never! Not with any man. And I respect you as lord of the Fiacre, and as my husband. It must be enough, for it is all that I can give.” Lara slipped from his arms and, standing up, began to dress. “You had best put your clothing back on, my husband. Kaliq said he would be back in late afternoon.”
“Is it that you don’t want to embarrass him with my magnificence?” he teased her.
“Precisely,” she agreed with a little smile.
He chuckled, and then rising proceeded to dress.
They sat back down on the reclining couch, and sipped Frine from the goblets Kaliq had left. The sun was beginning to slip down the smooth silken sheet of the blue sky when the Shadow Prince stepped from the great tree to rejoin them.
“I have word for you,” he told them, seating himself between Lara and Vartan.
“Tell us,” Lara said.
“I was correct when I said that it was not Crusader Knights. The invaders are mercenaries in the pay of Gaius Prospero, who convinced a majority of the High Council to pursue this small encroachment into the Outlands. The Mercenary Guild needed work. They were becoming restless being so idle, and beginning to cause trouble in the City. Nor did they enjoy paying bribes to their leaders for the small assignments that were coming their way. The Midlands and the Forest Lords voted for the breach in the treaty. My fellow princes and the Coastal Kings voted against it, but as we suspected, the greedy Master of Merchants was council head at that time, and he voted for the incursion. They have taken much ore from the Piaras and the Tormod so far. There is talk in the council of annexing these territories because of the lack of resistance from the Outlanders. Hetar does not understand your ways, and so it believes that you are weak. You will have to strike these invaders hard, and cause them much harm in order to discourage them from moving further into the Outlands.”
“A winter war will be cruel for all involved,” Vartan noted, “but it must be done. We have no other choice.”
“We can help you,” Kaliq said quietly, “if you will allow it.”
“How?” Lara asked.
“We have the ability to control the weather if necessary. Usually we allow nature to have its way for that is best. But it will be more difficult for your army to fight in the snows and bitter cold. Such winter weather will not touch the Tormod and the Piaras this year. We will keep the worst of winter from the territories involved in this dispute. And the Coastal Kings have agreed to close their lands to the rest of Hetar that you may not be attacked from another direction, and can be certain your women and children are safe in your villages,” Kaliq told them.
“And in return?” Vartan asked the prince.
“Nothing,” Kaliq replied. “One day we may need a favor from you, and when that day comes I am certain that you will render it to us in kind, Lord Vartan.” He held out his hand to Vartan, who gripped it in return. Lara placed her own dainty hand upon the locked hands of the two men. “We are agreed then,” the Shadow Prince said, “and now I must return you to the
Gathering before you are missed. Lara knows how to contact me. Fight well, my friend, and drive Hetar back within its own borders.” Then he made a fluid motion with his free hand, and seemed to dissolve before their very eyes. Blinking in surprise, they found themselves back in Vartan’s pavilion.
“There you are,” Bera said. “I wondered where you had gotten to! It is almost time for the feasting. I have never known a longer day than this one, with Elin droning on about how important the freshness of ingredients for her sauces is. If they did not taste so good I vow I would strangle the wench, no matter she is Adon’s wife. And he was no better as he explained the intricacies of choosing just the right wood for his fire pit. Where were you?”
“We met with Kaliq of the Shadow Princes, and learned much of what is behind this invasion,” Vartan replied. “I will tell you after I have met with the other leaders, and set a time to speak on it,” he said to his mother. Then turning he left the pavilion.
“How is this possible?” Bera gasped.
“There has been much magic this day and there is more of it to come,” Lara told her softly. “But it has been good magic, Bera. The Outland is not alone in this fight.”
“What would we have done without you, my child?” Bera said. “You are truly a blessing to us, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword, wife of Vartan.”
“It is my destiny,” Lara returned with a small smile, and Bera chuckled.
“Come, help me bring food to the feasting table,” she said.
And together the two women carried the bowls, the platters and the assorted dishes adding them to what was already there from the other clan families. The great array of food and drink was quickly consumed as early evening turned into night, and the stars twinkled above them. And then the four moons of Hetar rose, each in its quarter phase. This night the copper Desert moon shone full and bright. A good omen, Lara thought.
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