Crown of Destiny

by Bertrice Small

  “Did you hear her?” Lara said to Kaliq as she drew on her well-worn boots.

  “I did,” he answered.

  “Protect Marzina at all costs,” Lara said to him. She strapped her singing sword, Andraste, onto her back. “I can protect myself.”

  I am Andraste, and I sense the blood of the wicked, the sword sang softly.

  “It is time to go,” Kaliq said. “Say your farewell to Shunnar, my love, for we shall not see it again.” His bright blue eyes swept about his garden, and then he led her out to the wide corridor with its open balustrade. Looking down into the valley below, they saw the grassy meadow that had always been there but then, before their eyes, it disappeared, turning to bloodred sand. “Kolgrim’s warning to us that he is now in charge,” Kaliq said grimly. “The darkness has begun, but the light will come again one day.”

  Lara looked up into his face. She touched his sensuous lips with hers. “The light will always overcome the darkness, my lord. I will see you in Terah.” And then she was gone in a puff of violet smoke that he noticed was suddenly tinged darker.

  Wrapping his cloak about him, Kaliq transported himself to the beautiful rotunda of Grugyn Ahasferus’s house, where the Hetarian wedding ceremony was just beginning. The auburn-haired bride garbed in cream-and-gold silk was weighed down with jewels. The groom was equally resplendent, and the guests were suitably impressed by the ceremony joining the heir to Terah with Grugyn Ahasferus’s last granddaughter.

  As it came to an end, Kaliq discreetly opened a Golden tunnel in a rear wall of the rotunda. To the mortal eye it appeared to be a grand corridor with a floor of gold and white marble squares down the center of which had been laid a dark red carpet. The walls of the corridor were lined with gold and crystal sconces burning scented candles that perfumed the air with the fragrance of late-summer lilies. The lights flickered and gleamed, but amazingly did not burn down. The ceiling of this grand passageway was glass that went from sunset to night and finally predawn. Terahns were wed at sunrise. Vaclar and his bride would reach the great gardens of his father’s castle just in time.

  Lara had already arrived. At first she was not recognized as the warrior she was. Lara smiled wickedly. “What, Cadarn? You do not know your own great-grandmother?”

  He gaped at her.

  “This is what you wear to a wedding?” Domina Paulina cried angrily. “Your garb was finer for your son’s wedding. Is Terah to be less respected than Hetar, but then you are Hetarian,” she sneered.

  “I am faerie, Domina. Neither Hetarian nor Terahn. This is my natural garb, and I honor you by reminding you of the faerie woman who, not once, but twice, saved Terah. By making a fresh blood tie between the children of Grugyn Ahasferus’s granddaughters I may have given you some respite from what is about to befall you.” Reaching back, Lara drew her sword from its sheath.

  Both Dominus Cadarn and his wife stepped back nervously.

  Andraste opened her jeweled eyes, fixing them in her stern gaze. I am Andraste, the sword of Justice. I greet you in peace great-grandson of Magnus Hauk, she sang in her deep beautiful voice.

  The Dominus and Domina stared openmouthed in surprise.

  “How did you make the sword talk,” Cadarn finally asked.

  Lara laughed. “Andraste speaks for herself, my lord. I have nothing to do with it. She was forged for me by the great Shadow sword master, Prince Lothair.”

  “Magic is not welcome here,” Cadarn said, and his wife nodded vigorously.

  “Shall I depart then?” Lara taunted him. “Shall I close the Golden passageway that has just opened into your gardens so the bridal couple may easily emerge from Hetar in order that both you and the family Ahasferus may each have your day of boasting and celebration? Oh! I see your guests have already gathered.” She smiled at the couple.

  “Could you not at least dress as the widow of a Dominus should?” Cadarn said.

  Lara fixed him with a hard look. “I am dressed as the faerie widow of Magnus Hauk would be dressed. You never knew that female. You only knew the quiet creature who tried so hard not to distress her son’s wife, and her son’s successors by being what she was not. Mortal. I am not mortal, Cadarn. I am Faerie! Be glad I have honored you on this day for after it I will be gone, and with me, all of the magic that once blessed this world. The only hope I can leave with you is that one day the light will come again, for the darkness cannot ever hope to prevail entirely. Now, Domina, go and greet the bridal couple for they are here, and must be properly prepared. It is almost dawn.” Then Lara turned from them and went to greet Kaliq and her daughter, Marzina, who had come through the Golden tunnel together.

  The Hetarian guests now coming through from what they believed was a Grand Corridor into the gardens of the Dominus’s castle were both amazed and awed. Stepping into the broad passageway from the great rotunda of Grugyn Ahasferus’s mansion, they had been unable to help looking up at the glass ceiling where the sky was ripe with the setting sun. As they strolled through the corridor’s exquisitely decorated broad hall, admiring its elegance, their eyes kept gazing up. The skies above them grew darker until it was a night filled with myriad twinkling stars that faded into a false dawn and then the predawn sky. As they exited liveried servants hurried to escort them to their places. About them an autumn garden was in full bloom.

  Certain of the guests were requested to follow the senior servants. The Ahasferus family, Palben, his wives, the Twilight Lord, Marzina, Kaliq and Lara were brought, not to their seats, but to the royal baths where they joined with the Terahn guests. Through an open portico they could see fingers of color-palest pinks, peaches, lavender and green, followed by potent reds, golds, oranges and purples-reaching forth to stain the sky. Then over the dark rimmed horizon the scarlet sun burst forth.

  Vaclar and Yamka were divested of their bridal garments. They were displayed by the bath attendants to the gathered guests to show their bodies were healthy and fit to wed. Although they had been told of this custom the Hetarians present looked somewhat askance on the proceedings. But they stood silent with the Terahns as the young couple were thoroughly bathed before them. Then traditional Terahn wedding garments were brought forth. The Hetarians thought them rather plain and simple.

  Yamka was garbed in a long sleeveless gown of white silk. The long skirt was pleated in rows of narrow pleats. The neckline was draped to rest upon her collarbone, and about her waist was a narrow gold chain. The bride’s long dark auburn hair was braided with golden ribbons into a single thick plait, and she wore gold-bejeweled sandals upon her feet. Vaclar’s garb matched his bride’s. He wore a knee-length white silk tunic whose skirt fell in graceful folds rather than pleats. About his waist was a gold chain, and on his feet golden sandals. Around his neck was a heavy gold chain with a ruby pendant carved with the seal of Terah’s heir.

  Led back into the gardens that overlooked the fjord, the Domina Paulina placed a wreath of multicolored autumn flowers on the head of her son, the groom, and then on the head of his bride. She joined their hands, and the High Priest from the Temple of the Great Creator began the simple ceremony.

  “Do you, Vaclar, son of Dominus Cadarn and Domina Paulina, grandson of Dominus Amhar, great-grandson of Dominus Taj, great-great-grandson of Dominus Magnus and great-great-great-grandson of Dominus Ejnar, of the Clan Hauk, and you, Yamka, daughter of Kavah and his wife, Ahana, granddaughter of Lord Grugyn Ahasferus and his wife, Camilla, pledge yourselves to each other as husband and wife?”

  “Yes!” Vaclar said loudly.

  “Yes!” Yamka echoed him.

  “Then let it be so in the eyes of the Great Creator of us all. You are now wed, Prince Vaclar and Lady Yamka,” the High Priest said. “The Great Creator blesses your union, and gives you many children and much happiness in the years to come. It is done. Now greet your guests!”

  The bridal couple turned, and a great cheer went up from the assembled guests.

  “So now you have united the world of Hetar as publicly as y
ou did secretly once before,” Kolgrim murmured in Lara’s ear. “You have made it easier for me, dearest mother. Thank you for that.”

  “I have done what I could to save these mortals whom you will now drag into the darkness. Just remember, Kolgrim, the darkness will not prevail forever.”

  “So say you, but you cannot be certain this time that your words are not hollow,” the Twilight Lord told his mother. “I will overcome the light. And when that day comes I will reach out to Belmair, and then I shall move out into the Cosmos, seeking new worlds to bring under my control.”

  “And will the son you have bred on Nyura wait patiently for his chance to rule while you play the conqueror, Kolgrim?” Lara taunted him. “Remember, this child’s veins run doubly with Usi’s blood. He will be stronger than you one day, especially if your beautiful Hetarian mate retains Ulla’s gift,” Lara said wickedly. “She has not given you her power yet, has she? Like all Hetarians, Nyura is acquisitive, my son.”

  “She does not know how to use her gift,” Kolgrim shot back.

  “But it makes no difference if you do not have it,” Lara retorted. “Oh, dear.”

  Kolgrim laughed. “You may be faerie, Mother, but you have a tiny ribbon of cruelty in your heart that quite appeals to me.”

  “All faeries do, Kolgrim, and some faeries are quite naughty by nature,” Lara told him as she took his arm, guiding him into a crowd of guests and away from Marzina.

  “Then I hope the seeds I have planted in Divsha and Yamka that will one day bloom into two daughters will have that same cruelty,” Kolgrim said to her.

  “You seeded your wife’s cousins?” Lara didn’t know if she should be shocked or angry with him at this revelation.

  “Do not fear, Mother. They will each bear their husbands a son first. Divsha is already with child. Do you not notice how cool the Lady Laureen is to her today, or how Palben is doting upon her, or how coyly Divsha is behaving. And tonight Vaclar will vigorously seed his bride, and it will be a son. Only then will I permit these females to bloom with my daughters. One day, Yamka’s daughter will wed Divsha’s son. And Divsha’s daughter will wed Yamka’s son. In this manner I will retain my hold on Hetar. Now am I not as clever as you, Mother? Have I not learned well from you?”

  “Aye, you have learned from me,” Lara agreed in pleasant tones. “But when will you accomplish something original, Kolgrim? So far all you have done is in imitation of your sire or me.”

  His face darkened with the insult, but he smiled, saying in a deadly soft voice, “I will soon have my sister’s magic, Mother dear. Perhaps then we might discuss something unique and original.”

  Around them the wedding guests chattered as they moved into the Great Hall of the castle where a magnificent feast had been arranged. A battalion of servants dashed about with great bowls of shellfish boiled in wine or served raw, and enormous platters of roasted game and meats. There were large platters of poultry, and smaller ones of fish, broiled and lying upon beds of seaweed. There were huge bowls of salads, bread fresh from the ovens served upon polished cutting boards, big wheels of hard yellow cheese and smaller rounds of soft cheese. The guests hurried to take their seats as the silver goblets studded in green malachite were filled with rich wines. Each guest would be invited to take their goblet home as a souvenir, indicating to the Hetarians present that Terahns knew how to properly entertain on a great occasion.

  You will never have my daughter or her powers! Lara hissed angrily at Kolgrim.

  He laughed mockingly.

  Lara fought back her rage, which was threatening to boil over. Unreasonable anger weakened one. Her ear caught the soft humming now coming from Andraste. She drew a deep breath to calm herself. Beside her Kolgrim sat eating enthusiastically as if he had not a care in the world. A servant bent to fill her cup. Lara stopped him with her hand. “Spring water,” she said, and the servant nodded, snapping his fingers at an underling who, given the instruction, hurried to fill the silver goblet. Wine would fog her wits at a time when she needed them about her.

  Kaliq, seated on the other side of her, reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Marzina is safe,” he whispered in her ear. “It is but her image seated at this table. I spoke with her as we traversed the corridor between Hetar and Terah. Kolgrim was too busy speaking with the Lord High Ruler Palben to notice. She understood the danger today, and let me transport her to your mother in Belmair.”

  “The queen is there now?” They murmured softly to one another so Kolgrim could not hear them, as he would have heard had they spoken in the silent language.

  “All the good magic has gone from Hetar now but for you and me,” Kaliq said.

  “Thank you for convincing Marzina to go,” Lara said, relieved.

  THE FEASTING HAD GONE ON the day long. There had been many entertainers to amuse the guests. Oiled wrestlers both male and female had battled before them. Lithe dancers in translucent silks had woven their way about the trestle tables in the Great Hall. A troupe of gaily costumed dwarfs had danced and turned somersaults atop six black-and-white ponies, half of whom had black manes, and half who had white. And then an ancient bard had come into the hall, which grew silent.

  His name was Knud, and he was famous throughout Terah. He sang songs of Terah’s past history. Then he concluded his entertainment by coming to stand before Lara while he sang of the beautiful faerie woman who had freed Terah from the curse of Usi the Sorcerer. Lara’s eyes were filled with tears when he had finished, for this same lay had been sung at her wedding to Magnus Hauk in this very hall well over a hundred years ago. The last notes of his lyre dying, Knud took Lara’s hand up in his and kissed it.

  “Thank you,” she told him, nodding. “That was as beautiful as the first time I heard it. Thank you!”

  The bard nodded his head in return. “My father taught it to me, Domina. It was he who sang it at your wedding. After today I shall not sing it or any other song again for the darkness is even now falling, and I shall die tonight. I am one hundred years old.” Then turning, Knud bowed to the Dominus and, walking slowly, left the hall, which was now wrapped in stunned silence.

  The tension was broken with the entry of a magnificent cake of twelve tiers. It was covered in a purple sugar icing and gold leaf. This was a new innovation in Terah. Lara remembered her winter wedding to Magnus Hauk had concluded with baskets of winter fruits. Atop the cake were two naked sugar figures representing Vaclar and Yamka who stood facing one another. The male figure held a long rigid manhood in his hand that stuck straight out. The female stood, her hands pulling apart her nether lips, a coy smile upon her face. The cake was cut, and slices apportioned out to the guests, who devoured them eagerly. One fortunate among the guests would find a ruby in their slice. A shriek of delight erupted as a magnate’s wife from Hetar was the lucky one.

  Dominus Cadarn now arose from his place at the center of the High Board. “It is now time, having watched the sun come up together on this auspicious day of Vaclar and Yamka’s wedding, to adjourn to the gardens to watch the sun set on the first day of their marriage. Please join us, my friends!” Then he and Domina Paulina led the guests from their Great Hall back outside.

  The air was cooler now. The setting sun was every bit as beautiful as the rising sun had been. How many more days would it be? Lara wondered. And as the guests stood admiring the sunset sky Lara saw from the corner of her eye Vaclar and Yamka slipping off to their bridal chamber. Oddly they seemed well suited to each other, and were not unhappy with the dynastic match that had been made for them. Lara remembered how she and Magnus had remained with their guests for they were master and mistress of Terah then. And the entertainments had gone on long into the night. Finally Magnus had stood with Lara by his side. Together they had thanked their guests for coming, wishing them a safe journey home on the morrow.

  How long ago had it been? One hundred and twenty or thirty years? Lara sighed with the memory. So much had happened since then. And yet little had changed. The su
n still rose and set as it always had. She hoped that those Hetarians and Terahns who had come for this wedding would remember this day. Already some of them were beginning to return to The City through the corridor the magic had made for them. She felt Kaliq’s hand taking hers and, looking up at him, smiled, her faerie green eyes lighting with the deep and passionate love she felt for him.

  “It is time to go,” he said to her, and she nodded.

  Hearing them, Kolgrim turned. “But Marzina remains with me,” he said in a cold hard voice. His dark gray eyes danced with his triumph.

  “Marzina is long gone, my lord,” Kaliq said softly. “Did you think I would let you use her to break your mother’s heart, to steal her magic?”

  “Marzina stands there,” Kolgrim said, pointing to the figure of the beautiful young faerie woman who stood looking at the last bit of color as the sun disappeared beneath the purple horizon.

  “’Tis but a shade of your sister,” Lara said, unable to keep the exultation from her voice. “Marzina is safe from you, Kolgrim. You will not have her magic or mine!” As she spoke the words she heard Andraste humming loudly within her scabbard.

  “Curse you!” Kolgrim shouted angrily, and the remaining guests turned to look. Suddenly in the Twilight Lord’s hand was a large broadsword. Its pommel was shaped in the head of an ugly male with onyx eyes that glowed red as it spoke in a dark voice.

  I am Jasha, the Supplanter, the sword shouted.

  Andraste was shrieking to be freed from her scabbard, and Lara obliged her weapon, who answered, I am Andraste, and I will drink the blood of the supplanter! She almost leaped from Lara’s hand in her fury to do battle with Jasha. Lara’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Sheathe your sword, Kolgrim,” she told him, holding tight to her own weapon. “You do not want to do battle with me, boy.”

  “Do you think I am afraid of you, Mother?” he drawled. “You cannot kill me. My fate is to rule this world, to grind it beneath my heel, to bring it into the darkness.”