“It is my right to be here,” Bera said stubbornly. “My son is clan lord here. He will tell you when he comes, faerie witch.”
Lara shook her head. “Vartan is dead,” she said quietly.
“Did you kill him?” Bera demanded to know.
“No, Adon and Elin slew him in his hall,” Lara replied.
Bera looked suddenly confused, and by her side the boy, Cam, smiled at Lara.
Then Sholeh, headwoman of the Fiacre village of Rivalen, and blood kin to Vartan’s family, was there. She nodded sympathetically at Lara, and putting an arm about Bera led her off. Cam followed. He had taken but a few steps when he turned, and smiled once again at Lara. It was a malevolent smile for so young a lad. Lara’s eyes locked onto Cam’s and held his gaze until the boy was forced to turn away, the look upon his face one of awakening fear.
“He is evil, isn’t he?” Dillon was by her side.
“Yes,” Lara said, and put a protective arm about her son. “Come. Let us walk together, and you will tell me of your summer here in the new Outlands.” Together they strolled from the tent, and away from the great encampment out into the fields beyond.
“Have you taken a new husband?” Dillon asked.
“Aye, the Dominus of Terah. I am now called the Domina,” Lara said.
“Will you give him children?” Dillon wanted to know.
“In time,” his mother answered.
“Then you love him?” Vartan’s eyes looked up at her.
“Yes, I do,” Lara replied quietly. “You will meet him soon. He will come to accept the yearly tribute from the clan families before the Gathering comes to an end.”
“Could we live with you, Mother?” Dillon wanted to know.
“If you wished it, aye, but I have always thought to leave you with the Fiacre, for you are Vartan’s only son, Dillon. One day you will be Lord of the Fiacre,” Lara told him.
“Nay, I will not,” Dillon responded. “And I do not want to be, Mother. Tearlach will follow his father, and it will be many years hence for Liam will live to be a very old man. I believe I have your gifts, Mother, and I am not afraid.”
Lara sighed. “If that is so, Dillon, then one day you must study with the Shadow Princes, for your blood is more mortal than faerie. They can help you achieve what you need to accomplish better than any.” Perhaps it is better that Vartan is gone, she thought, for he would have wanted his eldest son to follow in his footprints and not mine.
“I must protect the Fiacre against Cam,” Dillon said softly.
“Cam is young yet as you are,” Lara remarked. “Now, tell me of your summer, my son. We will have several days in which to discuss that which concerns you. Noss says you have learned to ride Dasras properly now. I shall ask him to choose another mount for you as I must take him back to the castle when I go.”
“It was a summer as any other,” Dillon said. “Dasras and I explored this land almost every day. There are wonderful wild creatures here, Mother.”
“And your sister? Did you take her with you at all?” Lara wanted to know.
“Anoush is too young to ride before me,” the boy replied. “Besides all she wants to do is follow Noss about. She calls Noss, Mama.”
“I am grateful for Noss,” Lara said.
“She is not our mother,” Dillon said loyally. “You are!”
“When Anoush is older she will understand,” Lara counseled him. “For now let Noss who loves her be Mama. You know who I am, and for that I am glad. Always make certain your sister knows who you are, Dillon.”
“I miss you,” the boy said.
“I miss you, and the simple life the Fiacre lead,” Lara admitted. “This destiny of mine is a great burden, and Kaliq says I have not yet met the whole of it.”
“I am here for you, Mother,” Dillon replied, and slipped his hand into hers.
“Next summer if you like I will bring you to the castle, and you will view the great Sea of Sagitta, and I will teach you to sail as King Archeron taught me,” Lara promised him.
“Will I like the Dominus?” Dillon wanted to know.
“I hope you will,” his mother replied. “He is a good and wise man.”
And that night Lara sought her husband out on the dream plane.
“I have missed you,” he told her softly as they embraced.
“The Gathering will be over in five more days,” Lara told him. “Will you let me bring you to join with the clan families? It is the perfect time to accept their tribute, which they have brought with them for you. They meant to give it to me, but you will honor and impress them if you receive it yourself. They will feel safer and more welcome. Tomorrow I will take Dasras and ride out to see how they have all managed. I have spoken with the clan lords, and they say they are content. The Piaras and Tormod have each made a satisfactory accommodation with the Mountain gnomes. But I want you to join me. My son wishes to meet you,” she told him.
“Does he?” Magnus Hauk sounded pleased.
“He seems to have inherited my ways,” Lara said with a smile.
“Your mother would be pleased, I think, that her grandson sports his faerie blood,” Magnus Hauk said. “I should like to see the son you gave Vartan.”
“Someday I shall send him to Kaliq to be trained,” Lara said.
“Do you think of your Shadow Prince?” he asked.
She heard the jealousy in his tone. “Kaliq is my friend, Magnus, not my lover. If you are going to be jealous of every man with whom I speak, what am I to do with you?”
His dream shadow shimmered at her words. He was close to waking with his all too mortal emotions.
“When can you join me?” she asked him, attempting to relieve the tension between them.
“I will be ready in four days,” he said. “Sirvat is with child.”
“How wonderful!” Lara exclaimed. She touched his cheek. “At sunrise in four days’ time go into our own little garden, and I will transport you from there. Be aware it will be midmorning here, my lord Dominus.” She brushed her lips against his. “Farewell, my love,” she told him. And then Lara awoke. Rolling onto her back she looked up at the skies above. There was a hint of dawn on the horizon, and she felt suddenly restless. She arose from her bedding, and stretched herself. It had been a long while since she had slept out-of-doors, and she was slightly stiff with the dampness.
She walked to the meadow where the horses were grazing, and seeing her great golden stallion, Dasras, she went to his side.
“Could you find no time for me yesterday?” Dasras said with a hint of rebuke in his deep voice. “We have been apart for months now.”
Lara put her arms about the horse’s neck, and rubbed her forehead against him. “I had to speak with the clan lords and my son first,” she defended herself. “Roan tells me you have spent a rather pleasant summer amusing yourself among his mares. What does Sakira think of your romping, old friend?”
Dasras chuckled. “The Horselord does have a fine herd of pretty mares,” he admitted, “but you should know that Sakira is also in foal. And she, knowing my stallion’s nature, would never deny me. Now let us walk for a ways, and you will tell me your adventures in Hetar.”
Anyone looking out into the field would have seen nothing unusual in Lara and the great animal walking together. And when the sun had at last risen the woman leaped lightly upon the horse’s back, her hand wrapped in his creamy mane, and together they galloped off across the greensward. When they had gone for some small distance Dasras unfolded his great wings, and rose up into the clear morning skies. As he flew Lara was able to view the land below. She saw the villages of the Blathma and the Gitta. There were newly opened fields, most already harvested, and prepared for the winter to come.
They flew on, and below Lara looked on the great herds of Aghy horses and Fiacre cattle. And there were the three small villages of the Devyn set neatly in the bosom of several small hills. It was not necessary, Lara decided, to go farther. The Tormod and the Piaras were pleased wit
h their arrangements with the Mountain gnomes, and she had no doubt their villages were as well settled as the other clan families.
“Let us go back now,” she said to Dasras.
“Do you not wish to see the sea creatures who populate the Obscura?” he asked her. “I hear they are beautiful.”
“Then let us satisfy your curiosity,” Lara agreed, and Dasras turned toward the sea that bordered Rendor’s new lands.
Beneath them the flocks of white sheep grazed contentedly, watched over by their shepherds and dogs. Not everyone went to the Gathering. Soon the great animal was soaring out over the sparkling turquoise waters, and before long they saw below them several of the creatures Rendor had mentioned. They were elegant beasts with scales that glistened, long tails, and fine heads with jeweled horns. Playing in the waves they appeared harmless. Scanning the ocean beneath her she saw the desert of the Shadow Princes curving to the south. But toward the north there was a darker land. It was not Hetar, for Hetar knew only one sea. Nor was it Terah. Obscura was a sea hidden from both lands, known only to a few.
“Return now,” she commanded Dasras, and he obeyed.
Her fingers entwined within his mane, Lara wondered how large the ocean below them was. She was beginning to realize that there was much she did not know about the world in which she dwelled. From the vantage of her horse’s back Terah seemed to lie upon a globe shaped body in the heavens. How was this possible? For the first time in many months she touched the small crystal star that hung between her breasts.
Greetings, my child, the dear and familiar voice murmured to her.
Ethne, the land below seems round, not flat, and yet when Dasras’s feet touch it again it will be flat. How is this possible?
The world upon which we dwell is indeed circular, her guardian spirit replied. Did you not know it? Ethne sounded surprised.
How could I? Lara demanded. No one ever told me.
Well, now you know. There are many such worlds in the skies above, I have been told.
By whom? Lara wanted to know.
It is simply one of the facts I seem to possess, Ethne said. The knowledge has always been there.
Would my mother know? Lara queried.
I cannot say. But it does not matter, for your destiny is on this world, Lara. Ethne’s flame twinkled up at her.
Reaching the place of the Gathering once again, Dasras folded his wings and galloped across the field before finally coming to a stop. For a long moment Lara remained upon his back, but then she slipped down, gave the great stallion a pat and walked away toward the Fiacre encampment, where she found Noss already bustling about. Noss, however, knew better than to ask Lara where she had been. If her friend wanted to discuss that she would. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t.
“Come and help me,” Noss called. “You surely haven’t forgotten how to cook.”
Lara laughed. “Nay, and I do remember how the clan families love to eat at the Gathering.” She set to work peeling the dried brown skins from a bowl of onions.
For the next few days it was as if she had never departed the Fiacre, and she was one of them again. Only the pitiful shade of Vartan’s mother gave her cause for sadness. She hardly saw the boy Cam. He seemed to have disappeared altogether. Although she felt guilty for the thought, Lara wished she had slain the child with his parents. She could already see the wickedness in him, and it would only grow as Cam grew.
She prepared the clan lords for Magnus Hauk’s arrival, and on the fourth morning she gathered them together within the ring of stone monoliths, transporting him into their midst with a short incantation. He appeared before them, standing next to Lara, his burnished golden hair shining in the sunlight. He was garbed in a long deep purple tunic edged with silver, black leather boots, and on his head he wore a circlet of silver-and-gold studded with sparkling gemstones.
“I greet you, my lords,” he said, the deep booming tones of his voice as impressive as his appearance. His bow encompassed them all.
Rendor stepped forward, and knelt before Magnus Hauk. “In the name of the clan families, I welcome our Dominus to the Gathering. With your permission we would present the yearly tribute agreed upon.”
“And then I hope you will invite me to partake in your festivities,” the Dominus said graciously. “Rise, Rendor of the Felan, and let the other Outlands lords come forward so I may personally greet each one as well.”
Rendor stood, bowed and then signaled the others forward. Torin of the Gitta came first, bringing with him a large flat basket of decorated breads, each shaped differently, and made from the first grains grown by his clan family in the new Outlands.
“How beautifully fashioned your loaves are, Lord Torin. I thank you.” The Dominus nodded his head.
Floren of the Blathma stepped before the Dominus. He, too, carried a basket but in it, nestled among a bed of moss, were several large tubers. At Magnus Hauk’s questioning look he said, “Planted in your gardens, my lord Dominus, these will grow into the finest lilies you have ever seen. Their scent is exquisite.”
“I am particularly fond of lilies,” was the reply.
Vanko, representing the Piaras, stepped up, and offered Magnus Hauk a beautifully fashioned small black box. He opened it to display a large gold nugget. “The first we mined, my lord Dominus,” he explained.
“Magnificent!” Magnus Hauk said enthusiastically. “I have never seen better.”
“So said our gnome partners,” Vanko said. Then he moved aside to allow Imre of the Tormod his turn.
The clan lord of the Tormod spilled a small bag of multicolored gemstones into the Dominus’s hand. “They are called Transmutes, my lord. Once set within gold or silver they change color with the wearer’s mood. We discovered them this summer, and Fulcrum, who is the chieftain of the Jewel gnomes, said he had heard once of stones such as these, but never before had they been mined in the Emerald Mountains.”
“Thank you,” Magnus Hauk said. “It would seem that in bringing you all to Terah I have done us both a favor.”
“Your Transmutes will cause a sensation in Hetar,” Lara said with a smile.
Liam of the Fiacre now came, bringing with him two pairs of beautiful leather boots, and vests. He bowed. “I have had these made for you, my lord, and for Lara.”
Together the Dominus and Domina examined the leather goods.
Lara looked up at Liam. “They are wonderful, my lord,” she told him.
“Yes,” Magnus Hauk agreed. “Your leathersmiths do fine work, my lord.”
Accius of the Devyn bards now came forward. “We are the clan family whose treasure is always with us, my lord Dominus. We are the poets and singers. Tonight around the great fire we will sing for you the song we have composed in your honor. It tells of your great generosity in giving us this new land, and of our journey here.”
Accius bowed low.
“I shall look forward to hearing your saga, my lord,” the Dominus said.
Roan of the Aghy was next to present himself to Magnus Hauk. “In the spring,” he said, “you shall have three foals sired by the great Dasras,” he told him. “And you will, I hope, my lord Dominus, come to choose them yourself.”
“I do not have to, my lord,” Magnus Hauk said, “for I trust you to do it. And the following spring when they are yearlings, I shall take them into my stables.”
Roan of the Aghy nodded. “I had heard it said, my lord, that you were wise,” he murmured. “The truth has exceeded my expectations.” He bowed low, and turning moved away from where Lara and her husband stood.
“Well done, my lord,” Lara told Magnus Hauk softly.
And finally Rendor stepped up to present the Dominus with several fine sheepskin rugs. “’Tis small thanks for your overwhelming kindness to us, my lord,” he said bowing to their new overlord.
“The land was here as if waiting for you and your clan families,” Magnus Hauk replied with a small smile. Gently dismissed, Rendor stepped back, and the Dominus’s glance swept
the stone circle. “And now, my lords, are we ready to celebrate?”
They shouted their approval as he led them back into the great encampment of the Gathering.
“You have put them very much at their ease,” Lara told her husband. “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek.
“I want to meet your son,” he told her.
Knowing that Dillon was nearby Lara looked for him, and waved the boy over to join them. “This is the Dominus of Terah, Dillon,” she said. “My lord, this is the son I gave Vartan of the Fiacre.”
Dillon held out his small hand, and taking it Magnus Hauk was surprised by the strength he found in the boy’s grasp. “I greet you, my lord Dominus.”
“I greet you, Dillon, son of Vartan,” the Dominus said. And then he smiled down at the boy. “Aye, I can see it in your eyes, lad. We will be friends.”
“Indeed we will, my lord, for we love the same woman,” Dillon responded.
The Dominus laughed heartily at the boy’s words. “You are clever like your mother,” he told Dillon. “One day if your people do not need you I will find a place for you myself in Terah.”
“And I will come when you call,” was the strangely adult reply.
Deep blue eyes met turquoise ones, and Magnus Hauk had the oddest sensation that one day Dillon, son of Vartan, would indeed be of help to him.
Chapter
18
THEY REMAINED in the new Outlands until the Gathering had concluded. Magnus Hauk realized over the next few days, as he grew to know the clan families, that he had been right to heed his wife’s plea and bring them to Terah. In time, of course, the clan families and those Terahn born on the other side of the Emerald Mountains would come to know one another. If their coming together were carefully managed there should be no difficulty.
But Lara cautioned patience. “First we must see what Hetar does,” she said.
“Why will they do anything?” the Dominus said. “They are across the sea.”
“Gaius Prospero is already wondering where Terah is. He has forced that information from Arcas, who betrayed his own people to save his miserable life. Arcas has always been a bully and a coward. And once the emperor learns that it is not the people of the Coastal Kingdom who produce the luxury goods Hetar loves so dearly, we are in danger, Magnus. Even King Archeron will not be able to stem the tide of Gaius Prospero’s greed and ambition. I was foolish to take you to Hetar.”
A Distant Tomorrow Page 43