Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar

by Bertrice Small

  True to his word, Kaliq joined Lara for the first meal of the day.

  When they had finished eating, Noss cleared the remnants away, and left them together. With a smile, Kaliq disrobed again, inviting Lara to do the same. They lay together naked on her bed, caressing each other and kissing. Neither of them, it seemed, could get enough of the other. He drank from her lips like a bee gathering honey. Her fingers brushed over his lean, hard body, exploring it in a leisurely fashion.

  “I have never before,” she said softly, “enjoyed learning a man’s body.”

  He smiled at her. “I am flattered then to be the recipient of your curiosity.”

  “You tease me,” she cried. “Do not! You know not what I suffered at the hands of the Foresters. To be used as a vessel by them, to feel desire but at the same time revulsion for them both was horrific.”

  “Ah, Lara,” he reassured her, “if I tease you it is because I care for you. Put away all thoughts of the Foresters, and let me love you. Know that you are safe in my care. I will let nothing happen to you, my beautiful one.” He kissed her gently. “Come now and let us take pleasure in one another, for we are both ready.” He lifted her up, and sheathed himself in her lovely body, groaning as he felt the walls of her passage enclosing him with heated desire.

  “Ahh,” she sighed, taking him into herself as deeply as he could go. “Shall the mare ride the stallion?” she taunted.

  “If it pleases her,” he said, smiling into her green eyes.

  “Nay,” she surprised him by answering. “This time I would be mastered by you, my lord Kaliq. Make me forget! Make me feel safe in your arms!”

  Rolling them over so she now lay beneath him, he began to thrust himself within her excited body. Slowly, slowly at first, making her whimper, making her want more. Then his tempo began to increase, and his manroot flashed swiftly back and forth, back and forth until Lara was sobbing with her pleasure, crying out with the satisfaction he could give her. She clung to him, her body weak and replete with the gratification he had so sweetly given her. Lara opened her eyes. “I wanted you to have pleasure, too,” she said.

  “I did,” he assured her. “The look on your face alone almost brought me to a crisis before my time, but my will is strong. We finished together, I swear it,” he promised, smiling down into her face. “But now, my love, the day is well begun, and there is much to do. Come, and we will bathe again in your own little bath.” He arose from the bed, drawing her up with him, and together they did as he suggested. Then he left her, saying, “Today you begin your education, for that is the other part of my task with you. Master Bashkar will come shortly to begin your lessons.”

  “What have I to learn that you cannot teach me?” she asked him.

  “You must learn about Hetar and its history. Not gossip and old wives’ tales, but the truth. What do you know of the Outlands, for instance?”

  “That it is a wild place of uncivilized men,” she answered him.

  “And how did it get that way when the rest of Hetar is so urbane and right?”

  “I don’t know,” Lara admitted.

  “Master Bashkar will teach you. Can you read and write at all?”

  Lara nodded. “Some, and I know enough about numbers not to be cheated by the butcher or the baker.”

  “It’s a start then,” he said, “but there is much more for you, Lara. I can teach you passion, and about those who inhabit Hetar, but Master Bashkar will teach you everything else. Trust me. You must know as much as you can before you leave me.”

  “You said you would see that I met my grandmother,” Lara reminded him.

  “I always keep my promises,” he told her.

  Master Bashkar came. He was an old man with a long white beard and long white hair. He wore a broad brimmed hat of dark felt with a point, and walked with a tall staff that had a face carved into it. “This is Llyr,” he said to Lara.

  To Lara’s surprise the eyes in the face opened, and Llyr observed her closely. “She is very beautiful, but astoundingly ignorant,” Llyr pronounced.

  “Your staff talks!” Lara exclaimed.

  “You state the obvious,” Llyr replied. “Why would I not speak? I have eyes to observe, and a mouth, not to mention a lean half body. I need no more than that.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Lara said. “I have never seen anyone like you.”

  “She has manners, and that will count for something,” Llyr murmured to Master Bashkar. “Now, let us see how much she knows. Precious little, I can tell already.”

  “Please sit down,” Lara invited the old man.

  “Do not mind Llyr, my child,” Master Bashkar said. “He does have a tendency to speak his mind. He comes from an ash tree, and they are very frank, unlike the oaks and the maples. As for the aspen and birch, they hardly speak above a whisper.”

  “Oaks are dour, and maples chatter too much,” Llyr observed.

  “And the palms like those at the village oasis?” Lara asked.

  “Palms are incredibly flighty creatures,” Llyr said disapprovingly.

  “Enough talk about your relations,” Master Bashkar said sternly.

  “I am certainly not related to a palm,” Llyr snapped, and then his eyes closed.

  Lara could not help but giggle.

  The old man smiled and said, “Now, child, I must find out what you know.”

  For the rest of the day he sat with her, asking questions, nodding and tching. Noss brought them food at one point, gasping in surprise when Llyr demanded cheese and a mug of ale. His carved arms reached out from the staff to take the mug Noss brought. As the shadows began to lengthen over the valley, Master Bashkar finally arose.

  “We have much work ahead of us, my child, and I do not know yet how much time we will have together, but never fear. We will manage. I will be back tomorrow morning at the ninth hour.” He bowed to her, and departed.

  “He seems a kind old man,” Noss noted after Master Bashkar had gone.

  “And wise. You must sit with me and listen so you may learn, too, Noss. Can you read or write at all?” Lara asked her.

  “What use would I have for reading or writing?” Noss replied.

  “Each skill you acquire makes you more valuable to your mistress,” Lara told her.

  “Will you teach me?” Noss said.

  “I will. We’ll start tomorrow before Master Bashkar comes,” Lara promised.

  The prince came to join her, and they ate their supper in the garden. Afterwards, he made love to her, laying her upon her bed naked, and spending almost an hour just stroking and kissing her body. He rubbed her with sweet oils until her skin tingled. Then he gave her the flask of oil, and told her to rub him. Her blood grew hotter with each stroke of her palms upon his bronzed flesh, but she suddenly realized that she appreciated the subtlety of the fragrant caresses. Their joining would be thunderous, and it was. She shuddered with pure desire as he slowly slipped his manroot into her body, sighing as Kaliq pushed deep. His mouth found hers, one kiss following another until it seemed as if their kisses had neither beginning nor end. She trembled, and he withdrew slightly, to her protest.

  “Nay, my love,” he told her. “You must learn to control your hunger, for only then can you control your lover.”

  “I don’t want to control you,” she gasped. “I just want pleasure!”

  His laughter was soft. He kissed her lips again in a tender embrace. “One day there will be a man you need to control, must control, else he destroy you. So now you practice on me, and on the other lovers you will have in your travels, Lara. You must grow stronger with the pleasure, not weaker.”

  “Just this once!” she pleaded.

  “No,” he said. “Now make me desire you more than you desire me, my love. Tighten the muscles of your sheath to embrace my manroot, and hold it captive so it cannot release its juices until you are ready for them. Ahhh! That’s it!”

  She followed his instructions, and squeezed him hard. He groaned aloud, praising her. Lara
was very surprised for she had never considered that a woman could dominate a man in such a fashion. Fascinated, she played with him for some time until he was begging her for the pleasure that fulfillment gave their bodies. “Now!” she ground out into his ear, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Now, my lord!” And she wrapped her legs about him, closed her eyes, and let the pleasure overtake their bodies.

  “You are incredible, and a wonderful student,” he told her afterwards, and when he had recovered himself he arose from her bed. “Sleep now, my love. I will see you on the morrow.”

  “Wait!” Lara cried, raising herself on an elbow. “What of Maeve?”

  “I have sent the message. Now we must wait, and see if she will come,” he said.

  “What if she does not, my lord Kaliq?” Lara asked.

  “Then she does not,” he answered, “but she will. You are her only grandchild. Your mother must have loved your father very much to refuse to spawn other offspring.”

  “Then why did she leave us?” Lara demanded.

  “You must ask her,” Kaliq said, and then he left her.

  In the weeks that followed Lara never left the palace. The village in the Desert below was almost forgotten. She studied each day with Master Bashkar, Noss by her side learning at her own pace. Each morning before the old man came she instructed Noss in her letters, and then her writing, and finally she taught her how to read. Noss was surprisingly quick. For Lara, however, learning the history of Hetar was fascinating.

  She learned that there was a High Council of eight that met in the City most of the year. Two members came from the Forest, two from the Coastal Region, two from the Desert and two from the Midlands, of which the City was considered a part. The council had a single overlord. The ruler of each of the provinces would take a turn as council head, rotating every three moon cycles, and only voting to break a tied vote. It was the High Council’s duty to govern Hetar, to see that its laws were upheld, to make new laws, and to keep the Outlanders at bay and contained within their borders. The council worked with the guild heads to see that their civilization continued to run smoothly. She had lived in the City most of her life, yet she had never known of the High Council. “Why?” she asked Master Bashkar.

  “Are there places of learning in the City or throughout the provinces, my child?” he asked her.

  “For the wealthy, aye, but not for the ordinary people,” Lara said. “What little I learned, I learned from my grandmother, who learned it from I know not where.”

  “It is not necessary to educate a people if you keep them content,” Master Bashkar said quietly. “Give them a roof over their heads, enough sustenance to keep them from starving, free public entertainments, perhaps a small reason for living and you do not have to educate them. It was not always so on Hetar.

  “Once all children were educated to their full potential in order that they might advance themselves if they chose, and be of use to our society. But that led to dissension as people began to think for themselves, and question their leaders. Those in power do not like being questioned. As those wise ones who instructed the young grew old and unable to teach, others took their places. But they did not teach as well, nor did they teach our history, or our great books and poetry. Mathematics became complex and convoluted. The ordinary folk could not understand it, but no one taught them the simplicities of mathematical skills, or logic. But they were kept fed, housed and entertained, and were encouraged to use their skills at whatever could bring them in a few coins. Education was no longer encouraged, and so finally it was no longer offered to the people.”

  “What is poetry?” Lara asked him.

  “A story in rhyme,” he told her. “I am sure you have heard street poetry, Lara, but it is unlikely you have ever heard the great sagas and songs of old that were once taught, and recited about the halls at night.”

  “No,” she said. “I have never heard anything like that.”

  “Nor I,” Noss chimed into the conversation.

  “There is a great saga that was once told of how the Shadow Princes of the Desert came into being eons ago,” Master Bashkar said.

  “Prince Kaliq once told me he had a Peri ancestor, but he also said his kind had come from the shadows at the beginning of time,” Lara said. “How can that be?”

  “Before time as we now know it began,” Master Bashkar said, “Hetar was a world of clouds and fog. The Shadow Princes came first from those mists. They were male spirits, and for several generations they mated with the faerie races they found here. Then the clouds cleared away, and the beauty of the planet was visible to all. At that time it was discovered there were others on Hetar as well. The Forest Lords descended from tree spirits and banded with the Midland folk who came from the earth spirits. The people from the Coastal Region had their origins in the sea. They built the City at the center of it all, and became civilized.”

  “But what of the Shadow Princes?” Lara asked.

  “The faerie women they had mated with bore only sons. Discovering this hidden valley, they chose the Desert as their realm,” Master Bashkar continued. “But soon it was feared there would not be room for all the offspring they were producing, for they were a fertile race. It was then the princes decided if the faeries would grant them long life and the same ability to reproduce only when they chose, they would remain in the Desert, joining the High Council as a part of Hetar, keeping clear of all dissension, yet trading with the others and welcoming them when they came. Women were no longer necessary to their society, nor were children. The Shadow Princes are a selfish race. Kind, but selfish. And so it has been for many centuries. Now and again new members are chosen for the council that the others are not made uncomfortable by their longevity and never-changing appearance. They take women they admire for their pleasure, but they always return them to their families with enough wealth to satisfy those families.”

  “But what if the women fall in love with their princes?” Lara asked.

  “Then they are returned with broken hearts. It is not wise to love a Shadow Prince, Lara, and they try to be careful in their choices,” he said.

  “How came you here?” she wondered.

  “I am an Outlander, a member of the Devyn clan,” he explained. “Our society is very different from that of Hetar. The clan families keep mostly to themselves.”

  “I have never met an Outlander,” Lara told him.

  “You would not have,” he told her with a smile. “We are despised by those who call themselves Hetarians. They are repulsed by our ways for we refused to allow ourselves to conform to their way of thinking, or their social order. They wear a cloak of civilization proudly, but beneath their veneer they are more savage than the Outlanders. Did the prince not tell me your father sold you into carnal bondage that he might advance himself and his new family? It is barbaric, and would not happen in the Outlands!”

  “No!” Lara cried. “You do not understand! My father is a great swordsman, but without the means to advance himself into the Crusader Knights he was doomed to remain in the Quarter. My baby brother would have had no future at all. Nor would I, for there was no coin for my dowry. He had nothing of value but for me. The monies Gaius Prospero paid for me allowed my father to dress himself properly, to obtain new weapons, and fine armor. We knew he would win his tournament matches if his application could just be accepted, but it would not have been unless he appeared worthy. My father is a good man, Master Bashkar, and I was proud to be able to aid him.”

  “His great skills with his weapon should have made him more than worthy, Lara. Men should be judged by what they can do, and for no other reason,” Master Bashkar said. “A fine appearance will not aid him on the battlefield, my child. You were the treasure your faerie mother gave him in return for his love. Yet he used you badly.”

  “My father did not desert me, Master Bashkar. If my mother had remained with us, could not her faerie magic have aided my father to gain his goal sooner? But she did not. I was but a few months old w
hen she left us for another lover.”

  “She loved you, my child. Did she not put that chain and star crystal about your neck to keep you safe from harm? A faerie woman who gives a mortal man a child does not leave them without great cause.”

  Lara was more confused than she had ever been as she listened to Master Bashkar’s words. Her whole life she had been told of how thoughtless and cruel Ilona had been. How she had ensorcelled her father as a youth, given the love-struck boy a half faerie child, and then recklessly left him to satisfy her carnal faerie nature, thereby breaking his heart. Had not her grandmother, Ina, said it often enough? And her father had never disagreed. Indeed, he spoke of Ilona as little as possible, and when he did the look in his eyes was painful to see. When she had been naughty as a child, Ina had often warned her she must not allow her mother’s wicked faerie nature to overcome her. Now, however, she was being asked to embrace that nature, and unable to help herself, she was. And what’s more, she found she liked that part of her that was faerie. But still she could not reconcile herself to a faerie mother who cared so little for her that she deserted her. She would never forgive Ilona. And her father was a good man, no matter what Master Bashkar said. The Master was an old man, and he did not understand the complexities of life in the City.

  The winter passed, and spring came to the Desert. For the first time Kaliq took Lara from the palace. The rains had come for a brief time to the sands, and the Desert was abloom with a carpet of flowers. Lara was amazed by them as they rode forth.

  “How can this be?” she asked him.

  He shrugged. “It is an aberration of nature,” he told her. “They will be gone in a few days, and then the sands will stretch golden again for as far as the eye can see. Each year at this time the flowers come into bloom. When they begin to die we will gather the fading blossoms to make potions and medicines from their seeds and petals.”

  When they returned to the palace within the cliffs, Lara was suddenly aware of how stifling it was in comparison to the great Desert. The urge to leave the Shadow Princes was suddenly tugging at her. She forced it back. She must remain the year and a day to be truly free. And where else would she go that she could be as safe? Og was more than content working with the prince’s horses. He had friends among the other servants who were not intimidated by his size. She rarely saw him now but in passing. But she had her lessons with Master Bashkar, and she had Noss. And Kaliq instructed her each night in the arts of passion. Lara enjoyed his lessons best of all.