Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar

by Bertrice Small

  He nodded, and gently brushed her lips with his.

  “But there were no footprints in the sand; and I heard no horse,” Lara told him. “How did you reach the oasis? And for that matter, how did you get back here without our seeing you?”

  “Did you hear the scream of a hawk above you that day?” he asked her. He spoke against her mouth, his blue eyes engaging her green ones, her head still between his hands as he refused to allow her to look away.

  “Aye.” She was almost breathless with his touch. His jeweled eyes.

  “That was I,” he told her.

  “You are a shape-shifter!” She drew away, a little afraid now.

  His hands released her heart-shaped face. “When it pleases me,” he admitted, “and that day it pleased me greatly to watch you as you swam in the crystal waters of the oasis of Zeroun. You have a beautiful body that matches your face. Are the bruises on your inner thighs gone yet? Who dared to mark you so cruelly?”

  Lara turned away from him, looking down into the beautiful fertile valley below, her hands spread out flat upon the balustrade. “My father was a mercenary,” she began. “A great swordsman who was meant to rise in the world, not remain among the lower orders. But we were poor. And the rules of the Crusader Knights are quite firm.”

  “And foolish,” Prince Kaliq said quietly. “What does a man’s appearance matter if his talents are legend? So your beauty was bartered in exchange for the gold to make your father’s application a reality. What happened then?”

  “I was willing,” Lara told him. “There was no coin for my dowry, and therefore no hope of a marriage for me. I was to be sold by the Master of the Merchants Guild into a Pleasure House. But the Headmistress of the Pleasure Guild would not permit it. She said there was already infighting going on as to who would purchase me. That patrons had begun arguing over my first-night rights. She said I would cause naught but trouble, and she forbade my sale.

  “So I was consigned to a Taubyl Trader, Rolf Fairplay. He meant me for a Coastal King. There were other women with the trader’s caravan meant for the Forest Lords. One, however, did not suit them, and the Head Forester was angry. Then a mean-spirited woman in the special consignment told the Head Forester that there was another slave carried by the trader. They demanded to see me, and nothing would do but that they purchased me.”

  “You are not an ordinary slave,” the prince said. “You must have cost them a fortune. I am surprised they paid it.”

  “It was my heritage that fascinated them,” Lara murmured, “and part of my story is wrapped up in Og’s tale. You know all you need know of me now. I am an escaped slave, but I am told I cannot be retaken in the Desert. I am told if I can live free for a year then I am legally free, and can return to the City without fear.”

  “Do you want to return?” he asked her.

  “I don’t know. Somehow I think my journey is just beginning, my lord.” Lara told him, and she turned to face him once again. “Is your curiosity satisfied now, Prince Kaliq? May I return to the village?”

  “Of course you may return, but I had hoped you would remain to see the breeding of the mares. My fellow princes and I have several stallions. Each is let loose, one at a time, to choose the mares he will have. The stallion drives them off from the main herd, and mates with those mares who particularly please him. The mares are owned in common by all. The mares that are mated are then taken to the stables of their stallion. We wait to see if the individual stallion’s seed has taken. If not, the mares are released back into the common herd. That is how we keep the bloodlines pure.”

  Lara looked back at the valley below, and it was then she saw open balconies similar to the one where she now stood. “All the palaces are clustered about this valley?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Is there to be a feast?” she said.

  “Aye.”

  “Then I will stay. I am tired of bread and cheese, goat’s meat and water,” Lara said. “And may I bring some of your feast back to Og?”

  She charmed him. Part of her was so sure, and another part of her was so girlish, and a third part of her was so mysterious. He wanted to know, and to examine each bit of her, but the prince also knew he would have to have great patience. “Of course. There will be more feast than appetites, as always. Your giant may have whatever is left over for himself, and I am glad to give it to him. What does he like to eat best?”

  “Everything.” Lara laughed. “The Forest folk did not treat him well, and fed him badly. He will welcome new foods, particularly the sweets. He, too, is tired of bread, cheese, goat meat and water. We haven’t had any wine since we drank the last at the oasis. What did you call it?”

  “The oasis of Zeroun. Once a very learned man made his home there, Zeroun the Wise,” the prince explained.

  “I liked it there,” Lara said. “I liked the peace, and the pool with its waterfall. I liked the sun, and the trees that did not hide everything, but just sheltered us from the sun. I think I could live there and be content.”

  He smiled at her. “The Desert can be cruel,” he told her.

  “As cruel as men?” she asked softly.

  He was surprised by her astuteness. “Sometimes,” he answered. His knuckles grazed her cheekbone. “What a pleasure it is to look at you, Lara. You are so fair. You know that I would make love to you,” Kaliq said, “but I will not unless you wish it as well.”

  “Love is a girlish dream,” Lara told him. “You wish to copulate with me, and satisfy your desires on my body. Do not hide behind the nebulous word ‘love,’ my lord prince. I do not need to be cajoled. You are attractive, and eventually, if it is indeed my choice, I may enjoy your passion. But not today.”

  The Shadow Prince looked horrified by her blunt words. He stepped away from her, saying, “I will have you escorted back to the village, Lara.” And then he disappeared into a haze that had suddenly formed around him.

  Lara shrugged. She had obviously offended him, and she was sorry. She had enjoyed his company. But like all the men she had known since leaving her father’s house, the prince was only interested in pleasuring himself with her. At least he had not forced her as her Forest masters had. If he summoned her again she would yield herself to him as a gesture of apology.

  “Lady, your litter awaits,” a servant at her elbow said.

  Lara turned and followed the man to her transport. The return trip seemed far quicker than her coming had been. She was in front of her small tent again, feeling the heat of the sand beneath her sandals. She entered the dwelling.

  Og turned, surprised to see her. “What has happened?” he asked.

  “I said no, and he sent me back,” Lara replied.

  Og shook his head. “Was he offended? They are not used to being refused, these Shadow Princes. It is rumored they are the finest lovers on Hetar.”

  “I wonder who began such a rumor,” Lara said dryly. “They are the greatest lovers, and the Forest Lords are the oldest and purest clan. I am fast learning to believe only that which can be proven.” She laughed lightly. “You said they leave the option to their partner, Og. I chose not to lie upon my back and spread my legs for this prince. Now I would get out of this gown and into something more practical. I have a pile of mending to do, and we will not be paid unless I sew.”

  The giant shook his head. Lara was behaving in a foolish manner. Gaining favor with this prince could certainly improve their living conditions. Her needle and his strong back could not earn them enough to purchase a real tent. The villagers were not rich. He and Lara were just managing to feed themselves with their labor, and a system of barter. But then he considered that the prince had seen what no one else in the Desert had seen—he had seen Lara in all her beauty. One small rebuff would surely not discourage Prince Kaliq. Lara’s resistance was but a minor setback.

  Later, as the evening came on, a group of the prince’s servants arrived bearing dishes and platters of the finest foods. There was roasted gazelle,
grape leaves stuffed with meat and rice, small flat breads still warm, a bowl of thinly sliced cucumbers in yogurt, a stone jar of honey, a platter of fresh fruits of every kind—even some Og’s memory could not identify—along with a basket of honey cakes and a bowl of sugared almonds. And there was wine! The feast was set without a word on the floor of the tent and the servants quickly departed.

  “Come quickly!” Og called to Lara.

  She came from her place behind the curtain where she had been sewing in the fading light of the day. Her mouth opened in surprise as she gazed upon the feast before her. “Where has this come from?” she asked him.

  “It has surely come from the prince,” Og told her. “There is even wine!”

  “I had agreed to remain for the feast if I might take home the leftovers for you,” Lara murmured. “Then he became offended at something I said, and sent me home.”

  “What did you say to him?” Og demanded to know. His mouth was watering at the smells of the food. “Sit down—” he gestured at her impatiently “—we can talk while we eat. I did not realize how hungry I was until this all arrived.” He cut several slices of the roasted gazelle, putting it on one of their two wooden plates for her. Then taking up the haunch of the gazelle he began to eat with gusto.

  Lara helped herself to two of the stuffed grape leaves, some bread, yogurt and fruit. Then she began to eat, surprised at how hungry she was. They had been starving, especially Og, and she hadn’t even realized it. Lara chewed slowly, lest she get sick with this rich meal Prince Kaliq had sent them.

  They ate, and Og listened as Lara recounted every moment of her visit to Prince Kaliq. Finally when she had finished he said to her, “Of course you offended him. The Shadow Princes believe deeply in love, and its many powers. By rejecting love and all it stands for you insulted him.”

  “How can I know of this elusive thing you call love?” Lara demanded of him. “My innocence was cruelly taken, and then my body used over and over again by two brutal men who only sought to plant their seed in me in hopes a child of mine might lift a curse placed upon them. A well-deserved curse, I might add. The Forest Lords are proud and stupid and cruel. Do you think they believe in this love? I certainly do not.”

  “Love exists,” Og insisted.

  “If you know that it is only from your shared memories, not from personal experience,” Lara replied cruelly. “The Forest Lords and their women were hardly kind to you, Og.”

  “But I remember my mother, and how she loved me. Loved me enough to escape the carnage that terrible day that I might be born. Loved me enough to protect me as long as she might,” he responded.

  “A parent’s love I understand,” Lara agreed, “for my father loved me. But do not tell me there is a different kind of love between a man and a woman. There is only lust, Og. This love the prince believes in does not exist. It never has. It is an illusion.” She reached for a honey cake, and bit into it with relish.

  “Some day you will learn differently,” Og told her quietly. He put down the gazelle haunch that he had stripped of its meat to the bone, and picked a small bunch of grapes from the platter for himself.

  “I am grateful for Prince Kaliq’s kindness in sending us this fine meal. We must share the honey cakes with Zaki and his family. Some of the fruit, too. Nothing will keep in this heat,” Lara said practically.

  Og nodded. “It cannot hurt us to curry favor with the village headman,” he agreed. “But let us eat our fill first, please,” he pleaded.

  Lara nodded. “My sweet tooth is not yet satisfied,” she told him, taking a peach.

  When they had finished, however, they gathered up the remaining flat bread, the bowl with the cucumbers and yogurt, the dish with the grape leaves, and the one with the honey cakes, along with some of the fruit. They carried it to Zaki’s tent. His family had just sat down to their meal. Zaki was effusive in his thanks even as his younger children eyed the bounty.

  “It is most kind, most kind!” he told them.

  “The prince sent the food,” Lara said. “We could not eat it all, and are happy to share it with you who have been so kind to us, Zaki.” She bowed to him, and then turning, departed his dwelling.

  “Why is she always veiled and muffled in shapeless robes?” Zaki asked Og.

  “Because she is so beautiful that the mere sight of her causes conflict and strife,” he told the headman. “She does not wish to be surrounded by contention, and so she covers herself to protect those around her,” Og explained.

  “Will she become the prince’s woman?” Zaki asked.

  “I do not know,” Og replied. “She does not understand love.”

  “If she will let him, he will teach her,” Zaki responded.

  “Perhaps,” Og said, and then bowing he departed the headman’s tent to return to his own. He called out to Lara behind her curtain as he entered. “Zaki is delighted with the food. I believe we may have a place here as long as we desire it. But shall we remain forever, Lara?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “For now, I am content with no demands made upon me but to sew. We will get a better tent soon. The tent maker’s daughter is to be married soon, and will need a proper gown for the occasion. The gown is simple enough, but no one can embroider like I can. These Desert people know nothing of that art.”

  “You are clever, and meant for more than you now have,” Og said. “Good night, dearest Lara. May your dreams be happy ones.”

  “Good night, my dear Og, protector and best friend,” Lara said. She curled onto the furs, drawing a light coverlet over her. It had been an interesting day. She wondered if Prince Kaliq would call her to his presence again. He was such a beautiful man with his blue eyes and wavy black hair. When he had looked at her she had actually felt a small measure of curiosity; might he possess some magic that would put the warmth back into her soul?

  Despite Og’s blessing, her dreams that night were not happy. She dreamed of Enda and Durga ravaging her body, and awakened with a gasp, trembling so violently that it was some time before she was able to regain her composure. Were they looking for her? Would they find her?

  Lara reached down for the crystal and saw the flame burning steadily. I can’t go back, she said within her mind.

  Do not fear, Ethne’s voice reassured her.

  Then why do I dream?

  At the moment men are your greatest fear, Lara, but the Forest Lords will not venture far from their trees. You are safe here.

  Why do men always want to possess my body, Ethne?

  Because it is a beautiful body, and most men believe in love. To love a woman is to possess her body, among other things, Ethne told her.

  What other things?

  That is for you to learn. Ethne’s laughter tinkled knowingly.

  I hate it when you say things like that to me, Lara grumbled. It is all so mysterious, and how am I to learn if you will not teach me?

  You must learn from others of your kind, both human and faerie, Ethne told her. It is my task only to guide and protect you.

  A Shadow Prince would be my lover, Lara told her guardian.

  Ahhh. Ethne’s voice grew soft as if she were remembering something wonderful. He will give you such pleasure, Lara. The Shadow Princes are truly the masters of tender passion and love. There are none like them anywhere but here. How I envy you!

  I said no.

  Ethne sighed almost irritably. Your experience with passion to date has not been pleasant, I am the first to admit, she said, but you must put it behind you.

  I dream of Enda and Durga, of their cruelty and brutality, Lara said.

  Foolish girl! Why did you not tell me? Ethne demanded. I can rid you of those dreams. You must think only of this prince who would love you. He will teach you the lessons you must learn in order to move on with your life. Do you think fate has planned for you to sit sewing in a Desert encampment for the rest of your life?

  No, Lara said, chastened.

  You have a great future, Lara.
r />   What is it? Lara asked her excitedly.

  You are not ready yet to know, but you will when the time is right, Ethne replied.

  More of your cryptic enigmas, Lara muttered.

  Ethne chuckled. You are forever wanting to run before you have learned how to walk, she said. Enjoy the journey, Ethne advised the girl. Learn as much as you can before you reach your destination, my child. Do not waste the opportunities that are being put before you.

  If my fate is already planned, I suppose I have no other choice but to go along with it, Lara murmured.

  There are always choices. The stratagem is to choose wisely.

  I would not have chosen Durga and Enda, Lara replied.

  Again Ethne laughed. Yet you have learned from them, my child.

  What have I learned from those two? Brutality? Stupidity? Cruelty?

  You have learned what love is not, the guardian of the crystal said softly. Now go and learn what it can be.

  Chapter 9

  PRINCE KALIQ rode into the village the next afternoon and he directed his horse to the tiny tent shared by Lara and Og. Lara sat outside beneath an awning, sewing. The giant was nowhere to be seen. The girl looked up at him. He held out his hand. “Come!” he said imperiously reaching down for her.

  Lara stood and let herself be swept up onto the prince’s horse. “How masterful you are,” she teased him mischievously.

  “I do not know why I want you,” he said. “You look like an old crow in your enveloping black garments. And you are ignorant beyond any I have ever known.” He moved his horse away from the tent and toward the entrance to his palace at the bottom of the cliff.

  “You want me because you have seen me without my enveloping garments,” she told him. “And you want me because you desire to teach me your ways,” Lara said. “I am a mystery to you, my lord, am I not?”

  “You are not stupid,” he admitted.

  “Nay, not stupid, just ignorant,” she mocked him, and he laughed.

  “I will probably fall in love with you,” he grumbled, “and you will break my heart, Lara, won’t you?” He guided his mount past the cliff’s entry, and onto the inner road.