Lara slept until the afternoon. Og had slept beneath the shade of the palm trees near the pool. He woke to see Lara entering the water. She splashed about, calling to him to put his big feet into the water again and cool them. He did, smiling down at her. They ate a loaf of the bread he had taken, and an apple each. They filled the empty wineskin with cold water from the well. Og took down the makeshift tent, reconstructing the knapsack once again. He replaced the furs, but this time with the tanned sides up. Lara had repacked her few possessions in her shawl. She would use her cloak tonight if she felt cold. Og’s remaining loaves and Lara’s apples went into the knapsack along with the skin of water.
“Ready?” Og asked her, and when she nodded he picked her up and set her back into the knapsack before strapping it on his shoulders once more.
“Which way did you say we would go?” Lara called to him.
“North,” he answered. “I just have the feeling that we will reach a village of some sort if we travel north tonight.”
“By the morrow?” she wondered aloud.
“Mayhap, but if not, the next day. If we have not found a settlement by the time the sun is high,” he told her, “I will set up the tent, and we will just sleep the day away. We have enough water for several days if we are careful.”
Og walked across the Desert all the long night. He used the great star, Belmair, which was always in the northern skies, as his guide. Within the safety of her transport, Lara did not sleep for she was more than well rested. She lay on her back looking up at the black skies with its twinkling stars, and then as the stars faded, the copper-colored moon. As the night began to wane Og saw great cliffs rising up from the Desert floor ahead of him, and at the bottom of the cliffs, a settlement of black tents. He was vastly relieved.
“Lara,” he called to her, “we have found some sort of civilization, but I would have you remain hidden until I am certain these people are friendly. It is not quite dawn yet, and I see no one stirring. I will sit down and wait.” He sat down atop a sand dune.
“Very well,” she answered, “but please don’t be long. I want to get out of this sack and stretch my legs.”
“There seem to be some shepherds stirring,” he told her. “I will ask them who is their leader,” Og said.
The shepherds gazed openmouthed at the giant, but they were not afraid. It was rare that strangers came into the Desert, for there was nothing in the Desert of any worth. No valuable ores, or gemstones. No fertile fields. It was a barren place where to the amazement of the traders and the Midland Merchants, beautiful horses were raised. How they did not know, nor did they care as long as they might purchase and resell the beasts at a great profit.
“I am Og,” the giant said. “I am peaceful. Can you take me to your headman? I would ask his permission to pitch my tent among yours.”
“I am Umar,” a young man said, coming forward. “My father is headman here. I will take you to him.”
Og followed Umar, who introduced him to his father, Zaki. Og made his simple request of the headman who asked, “How will you earn your bread, Og? We are simple folk, and have naught to spare for the idle.”
“I carry my mistress in the sack on my back,” Og said. “She is a fine seamstress, and I can bear heavy loads for you. We ask no charity.”
“Then pitch your tent on the edge of the settlement,” Zaki told Og. “We can use your strong back.”
“Do you have a prince?” Og inquired.
“Of course,” Zaki said. “He is called Kaliq, and his palace is in the cliffs above our settlement. He will not mind you joining us. He is a good man. You are a Forest giant. I had heard all your kind were dead.”
“They are. I alone represent my race,” Og said.
“What happened?” Zaki asked curiously.
Og shrugged. “It was before I was born. My mother survived into my childhood, but she never spoke on it. It made her too sad.”
“Well, and I should think so,” Zaki replied. “Go on then, and welcome,” he said.
Og found a sheltered spot on the edge of the tent village and, lifting Lara from her place, he tipped the pouch out, and set up the tent once more. The settlement was beginning to stir now. Og examined the furs, and then took one of the fine robes.
“I’ll trade this for some things we will need,” he said, and hurried off. When he returned he had an iron cooking pot, several implements for setting the pot up over the fire, a large spoon, a knife, five cushions, a piece of cloth and a basket of food and spices for cooking. He was very pleased with himself.
While he had been gone Lara had made beds for them with the remaining furs, and set their belongings next to each mattress. She took the cloth he brought and strung it across the little tent to give the illusion of privacy. Settled, they sat down to dine on bread, new cheese and water from the oasis.
“I will now go out, and seek work for us,” Og said. He returned with mending that the village women didn’t wish to do, but that needed to be done. In just a few days Lara’s reputation as a fine sewer spread. She did not venture much from the tent for fear that her beauty would be discovered. When she did go out she covered her gilt hair, and her face as well. The villagers considered the seamstress modest and respectful, and fully approved. But they were curious as to whether she was young or old, and where she had come from. Since she spoke to no one but her giant servant they could not ask. It was very intriguing.
Then one day, one of Prince Kaliq’s servants came to Lara’s dwelling, bringing with him a pale gray silk robe and a basket of fine threads. “My master wants to know if you could embroider this garment for him?” the servant said.
“I can,” Lara replied, “but it will take time, for it is fine work. Is it for a special occasion? Is there anything he particularly wants in the design?”
“It is for the horse breeding festival in six weeks,” the servant replied.
“Come back in a moonspan,” Lara told the servant.
Og was delighted. “Your reputation for fine work is spreading. What will you design on the robe? Zaki says this festival is a very important one.”
“I wish I knew what this prince looks like,” Lara said.
“He will be blue-eyed and dark-haired like all the Desert people,” Og responded.
Lara laughed. “I suppose it really doesn’t matter,” she said. “He will pay well if my work pleases him, and we will be comfortable for months. We might even purchase a real tent from the tent maker. His wife told me he has one that would allow you to stand up instead of always crouching.”
Og chuckled. “Yet this old pack of mine has served us well, Lara.”
“It has indeed,” she agreed.
Lara thought for several days about the embroidery she would do on the prince’s robe. To embroider horses on the garment in so short a time was an impossibility, she decided. So she embroidered a design on the back of the robe showing the black Desert cliffs beneath the copper moon, and on the front of the garment she embroidered delicate silver and blue stars in twin bands that ran from neck to hem. Around the wide cuffs of the robe she stitched a geometric design of black and copper. It was elegant, and most effective. Lara was pleased with herself.
When the servant returned after several weeks for the robe, he brought with him an invitation from Prince Kaliq. “You are invited to join the festivities, lady. A litter will come for you tomorrow,” he said.
“I am a poor woman,” Lara murmured. “I have no garment that would be suitable, and I would not have the prince think I do not honor him. But please thank your master for me.”
The servant bowed, and departed with the embroidered robe. The following morning he reappeared with a packet which he gave to Lara. “My master sends you this.” He bowed to her. “The litter will come for you in the midafternoon hour.”
She unwrapped the packet. Inside was a simple sleeveless, round-necked garment made from an iridescent silk. Lara held it up, stunned.
“You will have to go now,” Og to
ld her. “They say these Shadow Princes are magic.”
“Why are they called Shadow Princes?” Lara asked him.
“They are rarely seen, and are said to have the power of invisibility. They slip in and out of the mind easily, I am told.”
“I need a bath,” Lara said. “And my hair is filthy.”
“I’ll speak with Zaki,” Og said hurrying out.
Why did Prince Kaliq want to see her, Lara wondered? It could not have been because he liked her embroidery, for he had not seen it when the invitation was issued. Nor had he seen her. Or had he? She recalled the noise that night at the oasis as she sat watch. Could he have been watching her from the shadows? Ridiculous! She had heard no horses, nor were there any footprints in the sand of the oasis other than hers and Og’s. Besides, that oasis was leagues away from the settlement. He was probably curious because of Lara’s caution in shielding her beauty from the people of the settlement.
Og returned. “Zaki says there is a pool of flowing water within a small cave at the foot of the cliff. You are welcome to bathe there, and his wife sends you this.” Og handed her a small cake of soap. “I will stand guard, Lara, that you not be disturbed. You had best hurry if your hair is to be dry in time.” He led her to the cave Zaki had showed him.
The cave was empty, but it was filled with a lovely blue light. Lara slipped into the water, expecting it to be cold, and gasped with surprise to discover it was quite warm. Delighted, she washed first her long hair, and then herself. Climbing out of the pool, she sat naked upon a flat rock, and dried her hair and body with a clean piece of cloth. She slipped back into her clean chemise, and wrapped her hair in the damp drying cloth. Then she covered her face, and hurried from the cave. “It was wonderful!” she told Og as they moved quickly back to their own tent. “The water was hot, not cold! And the light inside is clear and blue.”
“You will just have time to dress,” Og told her. “Remember that if you refuse his advances he will allow you to return here, and you will not be punished. The Shadow Princes do not force women into their beds. It is said they prefer mutual passion. Their women are all free to come and go as they please,” the giant reminded her.
“What makes you think he desires me?” Lara said. “Perhaps the invitation is merely a polite one because I embroidered his robe. He can know nothing of me, or my beauty. He is simply curious to see the seamstress.”
Og chortled. “He sent you a gown. It’s just the right size, and it’s lovely.”
“It’s obvious that I am a slender woman, even wrapped in my cloak,” Lara said.
“No, he knows what you look like, I am sure,” the giant said.
Lara slipped behind the curtain that divided her sleeping space from the rest of their little tent. She pulled off the chemise, and slipped the iridescent gown on over her head. It fit as if it had been made for her. Her young body glowed through the fabric. She could not wear a chemise beneath this garment, for the chemise was not cut in the same fashion—she was meant to wear nothing beneath the gown. To her surprise, a pair of simple sandals had been left next to the gown while she was bathing. Reaching for her pearwood brush she brushed the tangles from her long hair, and then plaited it into a single thick braid.
“The prince’s litter is here,” Og called to her.
Lara stepped from her private space. “I suppose I am ready,” she said.
“You are beautiful!” he exclaimed. “This prince will fall in love with you without a doubt. He is a fortunate man.” There was a wistful tone to his voice, but she didn’t hear it, or see the sadness in his mild blue eyes.
“Love is an illusion. There is nothing more to it than lust or mutual convenience,” Lara said quietly. “If he desires me, and I him, we will couple, but that is all.”
“You have a faerie’s cold heart,” Og said. “But one day you will fall in love, Lara, and that heart will grow hot as your human blood warms it. You will see.”
“I shall try to bring you an especial treat from the prince’s castle. I know how you love sweets, dearest Og.” Then Lara walked outside to the litter chair awaiting her. It was not like the grand litter Gaius Prospero had sent for her. It was a simple conveyance of fragrant cypress wood, hung with diaphanous pale gold curtains. Two Desert men were its bearers.
Immediately the litter was lifted up, and the two bearers seemed to virtually fly over the ground until they reached the foot of the great cliffs. An entrance magically appeared, opening to allow them through. Lara was fascinated. Were the Shadow Princes faerie folk? She hoped she would soon learn the answer. Inside the cliffs, a road led upwards, lighted by crystal lamps filled with bright dancing creatures. What were they? She was going to ask. She had to ask. And then another door was appearing and opening before them.
The bearers never broke stride. It was as if they knew the way would be made smooth. They entered into a tall, wide corridor with walls of white marble streaked with gold, and lit by similar crystal lamps, but that these hung from a high vaulted ceiling. The floor beneath their bare feet was great squares of black-and-white marble. At intervals along their route were striped marble columns atop which were great onyx vases filled with a colorful array of bright flowers, some of which were unfamiliar to her. Now on her left an open colonnade appeared, and the bearers set the litter down.
A tanned hand drew the curtains aside and helped her out. She hadn’t seen him there when the litter had come to a halt, but he was certainly there now. He was tall, and ageless, but obviously no boy. His eyes were a startling bright blue, his short-cropped wavy hair, as black as night. He was the handsomest man she had ever seen, with sharp aquiline features and high cheekbones. Warm lips touched the back of her small hand. “You are half faerie,” he said. “How charming! Welcome to Shunnar, Lara.”
“Thank you, my lord. Are you Prince Kaliq?” she asked, feeling suddenly shy.
“I am,” he told her, and tucked her hand in his silk-covered arm.
“You are wearing the robe I embroidered!” Lara cried, delighted.
“You have great talent with a needle,” he told her. “Who taught you? Your mother?”
“Nay, my faerie mother deserted us when I was an infant. My grandmother taught me. She raised me until I was ten, but then the Celestial Actuary called her home,” Lara said.
“Come, let me show you Shunnar,” he said. He led her over to a balcony between the columns. “There are the horses we raise below. Beautiful, are they not?”
Lara was astounded by the sight. Within the great Desert cliffs was a greater valley, and an incredible greensward filled with herds of beautiful horses. She looked up at him. “How is this possible? Is it magic?”
He laughed. “Must it be magic? Could it not simply be an aberration of nature?”
“Is it?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. It has been here as long as we have.”
“And how long is that?” Lara asked him.
“Since the beginning, at least according to the chronological records of our kind,” Prince Kaliq told her.
“The Forest Lords claim to be the oldest clans on Hetar,” she answered him.
He laughed scornfully. “How would they know? They never venture beyond the boundaries of their trees. Their pride in their heritage is both overweening and foolish. The Desert clans have been here as long, if not longer.” He looked down at Lara. “Is that where you come from? The Forest? The giant who guards you is a Forest creature. We had heard they no longer existed.”
“They do not, but for Og,” Lara said.
“Your mother was surely a Forest Faerie,” Prince Kaliq said. “You have the coloring so typical of that race, with your golden gilt hair and green eyes.”
“Are there faeries in the Desert?” Lara asked him.
“We call them Peries, and yes, they exist here. They are rarely seen, however, as they prefer their own company to that of other races. But we have no giants. They always seemed to prefer the Forest and the mountains. What happened to t
he Forest giants. Do you know?”
“Aye. The Forest folk wiped them out. Og was in his mother’s womb. She escaped the slaughter, and fled into deep Forest where she had her child alone, and survived with him for several years. Then she was caught, and killed. Og was just four. They let him live, and taught him to serve them as his predecessors had done.”
“Why did this happen?” Prince Kaliq queried Lara.
“The giants knew a great secret affecting the Forest clans. But the Forest Lords did not want that secret known. They slaughtered the giants to protect themselves. They allowed Og to live because they thought he would not know their secret, but he did. The giants pass along their entire history and memories to the next generation in the womb. Og knew it all. But he kept his own counsel in order to survive. Only when he thought me in danger did he consider escaping his cruel masters.”
“What is this terrible secret of the Forest Lords?” he asked her.
“That will be for Og to tell you if he chooses to do so,” Lara answered.
“You do not seem inbred enough to be even part Forester,” the prince remarked. “Where are you from?”
“I come from the City, and that is all you need know,” Lara said. She had so far avoided telling him much of her own history, but Kaliq was not a man to be denied when his curiosity was aroused.
“Tell me!” he commanded her.
Now it was Lara who laughed. “Why is it important to you?” she countered, looking up into his handsome face. “Has your curiosity not already been assuaged by seeing what none in the village have seen? That I am young, and half faerie, and some would call me beautiful.”
He took her face between his two big hands. “I had seen you before today,” he told her. His lips were dangerously near hers.
“At the oasis as I kept watch in the night,” she said, “I thought the rustling in the bushes was a rat come to drink at the pool, and yet I felt something more. Was it you?”
Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar Page 20