A Distant Tomorrow

by Bertrice Small

  And he would make her beg again while he enjoyed a restorative. Then he would call in Vilia and Anora, and he would amuse himself watching the three women make love. Anora would be jealous. She would want to punish Lara. And they would. Together. And finally he would fuck the faerie woman until she was screaming with the greatest pleasures she had ever known, would ever know. He would make her his personal love slave. And she would use her magic for him alone. Gaius Prospero sighed deeply with his daydreams of victory, acquisition and lust. Was not such conquest all of one piece? He wondered if Lara believed herself and the Outlands now safe from him. Did she ever think of him, he wondered vainly?

  At that moment he would have been disappointed to know that Gaius Prospero was furthest from her thoughts.

  EARLY IN THE MORNING, before the dawn, Lara went to the stables in the company of Sirvat, who was very curious to meet Dasras. The great golden horse did not disappoint. He greeted his mistress warmly and with respect. “And this is the Dominus’s sister, who I am pleased to call friend,” Lara introduced the young woman. Dasras made his bow, and greeted Sirvat politely.

  “Greetings, great lady,” he said to her.

  “He really does talk!” Sirvat squealed.

  “Of course I speak, lady. Did not my mistress say I did? She never prevaricates,” Dasras assured Sirvat. “You are quite a pretty young woman,” he noted.

  Sirvat blushed at the compliment, replying, “And you are most gallant, Dasras. I hope we will have the opportunity to speak again, but I know my brother is anxious to depart. Farewell, and a safe journey.” Hugging Lara, she hurried from the stables.

  Lara had not left the Dominus’s home since the day she arrived, and she had seen little of Terah other than what she could view from the castle windows. They rode out together with only a small escort of armed men. The road they traveled hung high above the fjord, curling slowly up as they went. The castle, she realized, was totally impregnable. Who had built it? she wondered. The longer she was in Terah the more questions she seemed to have, and the fewer answers were available to her.

  They began to move inland away from the fjord. Everywhere Lara looked, the land was green. It was a rich and lush land, yet she saw no sign of habitation, mortal or domesticated creatures. Magnus had said their villages created the goods that were traded with the Coastal Kings, but where were those villages? Was this beauty an illusion? Was there something dangerous in this land?

  “Where are your villages?” she finally asked the Dominus.

  “They are scattered along the fjords,” he answered her.

  “Why are there no villages here?” she questioned him. “This is fertile land. Is there something wrong with it not visible to the naked eye?”

  “Our living comes from the goods we manufacture,” he explained. “Terah is a vast expanse, as you can see. By remaining near the fjords we are able to travel back and forth more easily with our wares. Ships sailing to meet with the Hetarians sail only from the fjord below my castle. All the goods are carefully catalogued, the registers kept within the castle. I pay the villages for the commodities they make and bring me, and they receive a share of the profits when the ships return.”

  “But what of their livestock? Have you no cattle, sheep or horses?” she queried.

  “Each village has its herds and flocks,” he replied. “They are kept in the meadows around and above the villages.”

  “How many Terahns are there, my lord Dominus?” Lara wanted to know.

  “I have never counted,” he told her with a laugh.

  “How many villages?” she pressed him.

  Magnus Hauk though a moment. “I am not certain,” he admitted. “Why are you so curious?”

  “My lord Dominus, you are the possessor of miles and miles of fertile land, yet there is no one making use of the land,” Lara said. “You are the ruler of this place, and yet you have no idea of how many people you rule, or how many villages exist. I find this most strange. Do you not care?”

  He considered his words before he spoke and then he replied to her. “We are a peaceful land, Lara. There is no want of any kind here. All of my people have homes in which to shelter from the elements. All of them are well fed. We have a purpose to keep our hands and our minds busy. We take and enjoy pleasures with one another. What more is there to life that that?”

  “In Hetar —” she began, but he raised a hand to stop her.

  “We are not Hetar,” he said softly.

  “You are more like the Outlands,” she told him. “I was happier there than in Hetar. Yet, I see this land that if cultivated could feed Hetar, and stop the want in that land.”

  “You have a good heart, faerie woman,” he said.

  “There are changes coming,” Lara said to him. “Soon you will not be able to retain your isolation, my lord Dominus.”

  “An ocean separates us from the world of Hetar, and only the Coastal Kings know of our existence,” he said. “I do not like change.”

  “No one is fond of change, especially great change,” Lara agreed, “but change will come, my lord Dominus, whether we want it or not. The advantage is in seeing the coming changes first, and controlling them so they do not run rampant and control you,” she explained with a smile.

  “Can you help me to control these changes you say are coming?” he asked.

  Lara nodded. “I can,” she told him. “But first we must see if we can undo the curse of the sorcerer, Usi.”

  “The temple we are visiting was once his home,” the Dominus explained. “He was one of the priests, but he was seduced by an evil spirit, and turned from the light to the darkness. Ever since, the forces of the Great Creator have eschewed magic.”

  “Yet you would bring a half-faerie woman into their midst?” she asked surprised. “And one whose voice they will be able to hear and understand?”

  “My uncle, who has already been elected to succeed the High Priest, is forward in his thoughts, Lara. I will speak with him first. There is a guest house on the temple grounds, and you will remain there until I have spoken with Arik.”

  “Does the temple receive women guests as a rule?” she wanted to know.

  “Aye,” he nodded. “They do. Women are not denied the opportunity to worship.”

  “But they rarely come to this temple, do they?” There was a small smile playing at her lips. She had learned a great deal from Sirvat in the early morning.

  “You know we keep our women protected because of what we have viewed as their weakness,” the Dominus said. “But now and again women are brought to the temple to worship. And there is a woman’s order associated with this temple.”

  “I know. Sirvat told me,” Lara said, and then she changed the subject completely. “I cannot get over how beautiful this land is, my lord. The shades of green are infinite.”

  “Are not the Outlands green?” he asked.

  “Aye, but not like this,” she told him. “The plain of the Outlands is a great grassy expanse that seems to go on forever. Now and again there are trees in small groves, or singly. And the purple mountains bordering three sides of it.” She gazed ahead. “Ah, I see you have mountains, too. Are they as deserted as your plains?”

  “Nay. There are a few mines in the mountains, quarried by mountain gnomes. They are solitary folk. Twice yearly they come to the castle bringing with them their gold, silver and gemstones, some of which is tribute to the Dominus, and the majority of which I distribute to certain villages who have smiths in gold, silver and gems. I pay the gnomes in the goods they need, or simply desire. We respect the mountains, and the gnomes in turn respect the Dominus.”

  “So, that is where you obtain the materials for the fine goods that are sold in Hetar,” Lara noted. “Where do the beautiful fabrics you trade come from, my lord?”

  “Other villages. Some cultivate the worm who spins the threads for the silken fabrics. Others raise sheep for fine wool. Several villages are devoted entirely to only the design and weaving of these fabrics. O
thers are in charge of the dyeing. Every one of my villages has a specialty so that no hands are idle, and all have a trade.”

  “Do your people never leave their villages?” Lara wondered. “The Outlands clan families meet each autumn at the Gathering to celebrate, and visit back and forth.”

  “Only designated members of each village are permitted to leave it,” the Dominus explained. “The villages each keep to themselves.”

  “Why?” Lara wanted to know.

  “It has always been that way,” he responded with a shrug.

  They rode on as the sun climbed into the heavens and considered its downward descent. The society of Terah was, Lara was learning, every bit as circumscribed as that of Hetar, perhaps even more so. In Hetar one might advance by following a circumspect set of rules, but here in Terah, where you were born determined the rest of your life, and there was obviously no chance for dissent. Lara knew from her conversations with Sirvat that the women of Terah didn’t like it. Yes, things had to change, but they could only do so when the voices of the women of Terah could be heard once again. Lara was eager to face the challenge in breaking Usi’s curse.

  As the sun began to sink behind them they saw the walls of the Temple of the Great Creator ahead. The Dominus hurried his small party ahead so that they might reach the temple before the gates closed for the night. One of the men-at-arms rode ahead to warn the temple gatekeeper that the Dominus was approaching, in order to win them a few minutes more.

  Just as the sun vanished beyond the horizon, they cantered into the temple courtyard, and as they dismounted they heard the gates behind them being pushed shut for the night, the great iron bar clanging into place. A young priest hurried forward to greet them, bowing low to his ruler.

  “My lord, your uncle asks that you await him in the guest house. He will join you after evening prayers,” the young priest said. His eyes were wide at the sight of Lara, her sword on her back and staff in her hand. But he was either too polite or too frightened to ask the question on his lips.

  “Go along, lad,” the Dominus said. “I know the way.”

  The priest bowed and hurried off, his brown robes swaying.

  “Do not speak until I tell you,” Magnus Hauk said low. “That a woman has entered the temple with me is cause enough for gossip, as my uncle is the next High Priest. They will assume it is a family matter of some sort.”

  Lara nodded.

  “They will think you are to be my bride, and I have brought you to my uncle for his approval,” the Dominus told her with a mischievous grin.

  Lara bit her lip in vexation, and he chuckled. “Oh, how you want to refute that, don’t you?”

  Lara shook a finger at him in exasperation, and he laughed aloud. He was right, of course. The sound of a woman’s voice could send the poor priests of the Great Creator into a fright. Meekly she followed Magnus Hauk from the outer yard into a large inner courtyard planted with graceful trees, and delicately scented flowers and bushes. A meandering stream opened into a small lake filled with green lily pads and flowers. The lake drained at the other end into another stream. Lara and Magnus crossed the water on elevated square stones to reach the temple guest house.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked her.

  Lara nodded in agreement.

  “I don’t want any of the priests to hear your voice yet, even accidentally. It would cause great consternation,” he told her. “I would tell my uncle first that your voice can be heard by the men of Terah, and why.”

  She nodded her understanding as she sat down on a gilded wooden chair. From a nearby sideboard he brought her a small goblet of wine, which she sipped gratefully. They had stopped but once during the journey to water their horses and relieve themselves. Lara was hungry, thirsty, tired and sore. It had been some time since she had ridden for so far and so long.

  Before long a tall slim man with an ageless face entered the chamber. Magnus Hauk arose immediately to greet him. “Uncle!” The two men embraced.

  Immediately Arik Hauk’s eyes went to the woman with his nephew. Her beauty was astounding. But her garb — leather pants, a silk shirt and leather vest — was odd. Stranger still was the fact she carried a sword and a staff. Weapons both, he recognized. “Who is this guest you have brought me, Nephew?” he asked.

  “This is Lara, Uncle. She is Hetarian. She was sent to me by one of the Coastal Kings who thought to curry my favor,” Magnus Hauk began to explain.

  “You were sent a slave woman?” the priest said.

  “She is not a slave, Uncle. She is the widow of a great lord, but the Coastal King involved had a grudge against her, and thought to revenge himself by attempting to enslave her and send her across the Sea of Sagitta.”

  “And how do you know this, Magnus?” the priest wanted to know.

  “She has told me, Uncle.”

  Arik Hauk paled. “What do you mean, she told you?” he demanded.

  “Because she is not of this land, I can hear her voice, Uncle,” Magnus Hauk said.

  “You can hear this woman’s voice?” The priest now looked intrigued. “Could I hear it, Nephew?”

  “All men can hear it,” came the reply. “May I allow her to speak to you, Uncle?”

  The priest nodded eagerly.

  The Dominus turned to Lara, and nodded.

  Lara stood, and bowed politely to Arik Hauk. “Greetings, my lord Arik, uncle to the Dominus,” she said. “I have come to this great temple because I need your help.”

  “How is it possible that I can hear you?” the priest asked her.

  “I am Hetarian born, my lord Arik. I am the daughter of John Swiftsword, the Crusader Knight, and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries. The curse that Usi the Sorcerer placed on Terah was not on your women, my lord, but on the men who listened to the women who helped them defeat the sorcerer. Your women have never lost the ability to speak, but your men had their ears stopped up so they could not hear the voices of Terahn females. I, however, am not born of this place, and so the curse did not extend to me.”

  “Amazing!” the priest said. “But you said you need my help? How can I help you, my lady Lara?”

  “Magnus has told me that Usi was a member of this order who was sadly seduced by the forces of darkness,” Lara said. “Did he remain within these temple precincts?”

  “Sometimes, after he had gained power, he did. And he built the castle in which the rulers of the Terahn Dominion reside today,” Arik said.

  “You did not tell me that Usi lived in the castle!” Lara exclaimed.

  “I had forgotten about it until my uncle just now reminded me,” the Dominus said.

  “I believe if I can find the curse he uttered against you,” Lara told the priest, “that I can reverse it. Magnus believes it could be written in the Book of Terah.”

  “Indeed, Nephew, that is possible, but it could also be somewhere within your own castle,” Arik Hauk said.

  “That should have been the first place we looked,” Lara said with a sigh.

  “But the castle is so public,” the Dominus said. “I think it more likely Usi would have hidden his curse, if indeed he even wrote it down, here at the temple.”

  “Sorcerers always write their words down once they have decided upon what they will say. Each one has a book of curses, for they never know if they might not use them again,” Lara explained. “He could have written these words in the Book of Terah, or he could have a separate book. Well, we are here, so I suppose it best we begin our search here — with your permission, my lord Arik.”

  “It is not my permission you need, but that of the High Priest Aslak,” Arik said.

  “You are his duly elected successor,” the Dominus noted. “I have heard that Aslak has grown old and feeble. That you make the decisions for the temple now.”

  “Indeed I do, Nephew,” Arik Hauk said. “But I always place everything before the High Priest first as a matter of courtesy, you understand. Aslak is, by virtue of having lived all but twelve years of h
is life here in the temple, suspicious of women. And should he hear your lovely voice, my lady Lara, he would count it magic. And Aslak hates magic. He believes all magic is evil. He learned his lessons at the knee of an ancient High Priest who had been taught by one who had been taught by one who was a young man when Usi the Sorcerer was drawn to darkness. For these men, magic was wicked.”

  “Magic can indeed be wicked,” Lara agreed, “but most magic is good.”

  “Usi’s magic was dark and cruel,” Arik said. “But you would appear to be a creature of light and goodness. I have always believed in a balance between dark and light. This is not an opinion I share publicly, for Aslak is most tenacious in his own beliefs, but many among us believe in this balance.”

  “Mortals share this balance, too,” Lara said softly.

  Arik smiled. “You are as wise as you are beautiful, I see,” he said.

  “Can you help us, Uncle?” the Dominus wanted to know.

  Arik nodded. “I can. But first, Magnus, you must pay your respects to Aslak, for he will already know of your visit. But how to explain you have been accompanied by a woman, Nephew? For he will know that, too,” Arik said.

  “We will say one of the Coastal Kings in Hetar with whom we trade has sent me the woman as a possible bride. And as she pleases me well, I have come to see if she meets with your approval as the oldest male in our family. You, of course, if asked, will say you are reserving your judgment until you know Lara better.”