Читать книгу The Shadow Queen - Bertrice Small - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

MAGNUS HAUK’S TWO older sisters arrived at the castle of the Dominus within moments of each other. Their ships raced each other up the fjord, beneath the morning sunshine, Narda’s vessel reaching the stone dock but a moment before Aselma’s.

“It is as it should be,” Narda told Tostig. “I am, after all, the eldest of our mother’s children.” She walked regally down the gangway onto the pier. “Hurry! I want to get to the lift before my sister does.” Narda attempted to appear as if she were just strolling toward her destination. Tostig had to take large steps to keep up with her.

The Dominus’s castle was built into and above the great cliffs that bordered the fjord. Of dark stone, it was surprisingly graceful and beautiful for such a large structure. Its tower peaks of gray slate soared high into the bright blue sky. Greenery trailed over, and grew up along its terrace walls behind which were beautiful gardens. At the end of the quay was an entrance into the cliffs.

“Look at her! Pretending she isn’t practically running so she can reach our nephew before we do,” Aselma grumbled to Armen as their own ship was tied fast. “Can they not hurry with that damned gangway?”

Armen hid his smile, for it wouldn’t do to have his wife throw a temper tantrum now. She and her sister might scheme all they wanted. What was going to happen next had already been set into motion. He was as shocked as everyone was at the sudden and certainly unexpected death of his brother-in-law, but he instinctively knew that the reins of power in Terah were not meant to rest in either his or Tostig’s hands. Silently he followed his wife down onto the stone pier and walked toward the castle.

Aselma and Armen walked quickly through the entry but the wooden gate to the lift was closed. They could see the bare hairy legs of the Mountain Giant drawing the wooden platform up to the castle. They could see the bottom of the platform, and Aselma’s sharp ears could hear her sister’s voice as the lift rose higher.

“You could have waited for us!” she shouted, tilting her head up.

Narda’s head looked down over the platform’s rail. “Is that you, Aselma?” she called out in a deceptively sweet voice. “I didn’t realize you were that close behind us. It seemed to me your vessel was still in the middle of the fjord when we disembarked. I’ll meet you in the family hall, dear.”

“Old cow!” Aselma muttered.

Above them the lift came to a stop, and then it was quickly lowered again. Aselma and her husband stepped onto the platform, which was raised once again to the correct level of the castle. The couple exited into the brightly lit corridor, following it to the family hall. Entering, they found Narda sobbing in her mother’s arms. Not to be outdone in her grief Aselma screamed, and ran to her parent weeping. Tostig and Armen shook hands, and would have stepped into the background but that Lara, coming into the chamber, beckoned them from it.

In the corridor again she greeted them cordially. “Please come with me, my lords. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

They followed her down another hallway and into a beautiful library with tall arched windows looking out over the fjord. There they found their other brother-in-law, Corrado, Sirvat and the young Dominus awaiting. They greeted one another. Both Tostig and Armen noted that their sister-in-law looked drawn with her grief. Lara was, it seemed to them, as beautiful as ever. Her faerie green eyes, however, were swollen with her sorrow.

“My lords,” she said to them, “I have asked you here because you should know what my husband’s dying wishes were. Corrado, Sirvat, Lady Persis and my son can attest to the truth of my words.”

“We should never doubt your word, lady,” Tostig said.

Lara smiled. “Thank you, my brother, but Magnus has done something that will shock you. He named me regent for our son.”

To her surprise Armen chuckled. “Shocking by Terahn custom, I will agree, but knowing you both it is not so unexpected.” Tostig nodded in agreement.

Lara nodded, amused. Armen was a far cleverer fellow than he was given credit for by those who knew him. “Taj is certainly too young and inexperienced to rule Terah, my lords, as he will tell you himself. But Terah must believe that he is in full charge, counseled by wise advisors. While I will rule Terah from behind my son’s throne, I am asking the Dominus’s three uncles to serve as the Dominus’s Council. You understand that my word is the final word in all matters, but for the sake of continued tranquility in Terah this will not be public knowledge. I’m sure that both Narda and Aselma will be pleased at this honor you have been given,” she concluded, a small twinkle in her eyes.

“My lady Domina, you have saved both Armen and me from much distress with our wives,” Tostig said with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

Lara could not contain her laughter, but then she said, “I cannot blame them for being ambitious for their husbands, my lords. But Terah can only have one ruler. You understand fully what I have told you. I alone will rule Terah for my son. His best interests, and those of Terah, are my priorities. I will not allow this to degenerate into an internecine family war which would surely spill over into Terah itself. Our strength lies in our unity, for be certain, my lords, that when Hetar learns of what has happened they will be considering ways and means of conquering us. The Lord High Ruler Jonah is no fool. He has been to Terah. He knows of its riches. The fever for acquisition runs in Hetar’s blood. In their eyes Terah is a great prize.”

“Lady Domina,” Armen said quietly, “Tostig and I are content being landowners. Corrada we all know loves his ships, and being captain of all captains. Let all of Terah believe we rule for our nephew. We gladly leave that onerous task to you. You are far wiser and more sophisticated than we are. You will know how to hold Hetar at bay.”

“What will you tell your wives?” Lara asked Tostig and Armen.

“Nothing but that we three are the Dominus’s Council,” Tostig said emphatically. “If either of us says more than that Aselma and Narda will quarrel over which of us should have precedence so they may have precedence over each other. Nay, Armen, Corrado and I are equals by the Dominus’s command. But what if the Lady Persis should tell her older daughters of Magnus Hauk’s dying wishes?”

“She will not,” Lara said. “The Dominus Taj Hauk has personally commanded that she keep the secret of his father’s request that there be peace among us. Persis is no fool. She knows the dangers involved in such an indiscretion.”

“And she is used to obeying a male’s orders,” Sirvat said mischievously. “My nephew’s age matters little to her. He is a male, and he is the Dominus.”

Lara smiled at her sister-in-law’s observation. “Then it is settled, my lords. The first day of each month I will bring you by means of my magic to the castle, and we will meet. That will allay any suspicions that your wives may have in this matter. Now, let us join the Lady Persis.”

They rejoined Magnus Hauk’s mother, and her two older daughters. Sirvat went to her elder sisters, kissing each one and greeting them. Lara waited for Aselma and Narda to acknowledge her, but only when Taj spoke sternly to his aunts did they do so.

“You have not greeted my mother, my father’s widow,” the young Dominus said.

“Our brother is gone. What importance can this faerie woman have in Terah now?” Aselma said rudely. “Will she not go from us soon?”

Lara was astounded by the woman’s words. She had never been particularly friendly with her husband’s two older sisters, but the antipathy in Aselma’s words surprised her.

“Where would I go?” she asked Aselma in an icy voice. “Terah is my home. My son is its ruler. Until he weds I am yet the Domina.”

“Aye! Still you have no real importance here now. My brother is dead. But the boy is too young to rule!” Aselma quickly replied. “He needs the guidance of an older man. He must not be corrupted by you as Magnus was. Women are not meant to rule.”

“My son has already in his young wisdom chosen his three uncles to be the Dominus’s Council,” Lara responded. “I will bring them here to the castle at least once monthly to meet with my son and conduct the business of government.”

“Once a month?” Aselma screeched. “One of us should at least live here at the castle to guide the boy each day.”

“And I suppose you think you should be the one chosen,” Narda cried angrily.

“Cease your arguments, Aunts,” Taj Hauk said. “I do not choose to have either of you moving into my mother’s house, and this castle is indeed my mother’s home. Look to my uncle’s injuries. My mother’s magic has managed to heal his bones, but his bruises will take weeks to heal. She left them so that Terahns might see that he, too, was injured. His broken heart may never heal. Two days ago my father was killed. Tomorrow we will bid him farewell. If you cannot keep from your petty quarreling in these sorrowful times then I will send you home today.” The boy had drawn himself up to his full height. His turquoise-blue eyes were fierce with his determination.

Narda and Aselma were suddenly properly cowed into obedience. The two sisters bowed their heads. Like their mother they accepted male dominance.

“Greet my mother properly now,” Taj Hauk said, and they did. “You are all dismissed now but for the Domina. I will see you at the evening meal.” He waved them off with a firm hand.

When the chamber was empty Lara turned to her son. “I can see you have already learned from your father,” she said.

The boy grinned. “Father would have been harder on them for their rudeness to you, but I understand they are grieving, too. Still, I know that had I not shown a firm hand with them at once their behavior would have escalated. They are old-fashioned, but the truth is they are both as ambitious as any for power. They shall not, however, have mine.”

“Nor should anyone, my son,” Lara told him. “I know there are many who think that I ruled over your father. I did not. But your father was willing to listen to what I had to say, Taj. And he was not ashamed to take my advice when it was good. I hope one day you will give your wife that same courtesy.”

“In many cases,” her son answered, “you made him believe your advice was his.”

Lara smiled. “You are clever to have seen that,” she replied. “He never did.”

Taj chuckled. “Of course he didn’t, Mother. He loved you beyond all else.”

The tears came swiftly and unbidden at the boy’s words. Lara turned away quickly, wiping the evidence of her grief with her two hands.

“Mother! I am sorry,” her son cried. “I shall not speak of my father again.”

“Nay!” Lara said. “Nay! You must always speak of him, for as long as people speak of Magnus Hauk he is yet with us. His memory must remain, Taj. He was a great Dominus. Only a great man would have listened to me when I realized the men of Terah had been cursed by Usi. Only a great man would have had the courage to fly in the face of Terahn tradition and trust a woman to correct a bad situation, but your father did. His loss is so new, my son. And I will weep for him easily now. In time I will grow stronger, and my cold faerie heart will be hard once more. I have encased it in ice already, but the ice seems to melt at the mere mention of Magnus Hauk.” She brushed the tears that continued to flow away again. “I suppose it is that small bit of me that is mortal.” She sighed, and gave a watery little chuckle.

The boy put an arm about her shoulders. “It pleases me to see you grieve so for my father,” he said.

Lara almost laughed aloud at Taj’s pronouncement. It was just the sort of thing Magnus Hauk would have said to her. “You are truly your father’s son,” she told him as he hugged her close.

“You must rest now, Mother, for tomorrow will be a big day for all of Terah,” Taj said to her, but she shook her head.

“Nay. I will go and don the finest robes I have. Then I will sit at the foot of your father’s bier in the Great Hall of the castle until the morrow. The people have been coming all day to pay their respects. We must open the doors to them soon,” Lara told him. “It is tradition that a Domina sit at the foot of her husband’s coffin and greet his people as they come to mourn him. I will not neglect that tradition.” She kissed Taj’s cheek. “Come into the hall while I am there, and greet the people.”

“I will,” he promised her.

She left him, and went to her own chamber where Mila, her serving woman, was waiting for her. Lara was surprised to see that Mila had laid out a simple white silk robe, its round neckline and long full sleeves edged in shining gold threads. “You think this appropriate?” she asked the servant.

Mila nodded. “He has been dressed in his finest and richest robes, Domina. You in a simple gown will show all of Terah your respect for Magnus Hauk by your lack of ostentation. It is the Terahn way, Domina, but as you have never attended to the death of a family member before you would not know that. All of them, even the young Dominus, will dress plainly so as not to take anything away from Magnus Hauk, for this is his time.”

Lara felt the tears coming again. She collapsed briefly into a chair and wept softly. Finally drawing a long, deep breath she arose. “I will bathe first, Mila.”

“Of course, Domina,” the serving woman replied.

The women in the bath were ready for their mistress. Lara was too weary and sad for conversation, and they understood. When she had finished her ablutions she returned to her bedchamber, where Mila helped her dress and brushed out her long golden hair. The servant fit a narrow gold band about her mistress’s head. The band had a small bloodred ruby in its center. Mila lastly fit a pair of golden kidskin slippers on Lara’s dainty feet. “Stand up, Domina, and let me see if all is right,” she said.

Lara stood. The silk in the loose gown felt cool against her legs. It would be a comfortable gown in which to sit, she thought. Turning, she looked at herself in the tall mirror. It was indeed a modest gown, and if Terahn custom demanded it then she was content to wear it. “Tell the majordomo that the doors to the hall are to be opened to the people at the noon hour.”

“I’ll go immediately, and you eat something from that tray.” Mila pointed to the sideboard where the tray sat. Then she hurried out.

Lara lifted the napkin covering the tray. Then she let it fall back again. Her appetite was practically nonexistent at this moment. She knew in time that she would eat again, but right now she could not entertain the thought. She did sip a cup of Frine. Then, leaving her apartments, Lara went to the Great Hall, where Magnus Hauk’s body now lay in state. The hall was empty, to her relief, for the coffin and its bier were newly arrived. A single small plain wooden throne had been placed at her husband’s feet.

Lara walked to where her husband lay. They had indeed dressed him in robes of incredible richness such as she had never seen. She did not recognize them at all. From where had they come? Lara looked upon the body. It looked like Magnus Hauk, and yet it didn’t. That spark that had given her mortal husband life was no longer there. His body was but a shell, and Lara sensed if she touched it it might shatter. Reaching out, she straightened one of his short golden curls. His eyes were closed, veiling forever the bright turquoise-blue of his wonderful eyes.

“Ah, my love,” she murmured softly. “It was a cruel and unfair end. What shall I do without you?” Then she bent and kissed his cold lips before taking her place in the throne at his feet. She could hear the bells in the castle’s clock tower tolling the noon hour, and as the last strike sounded the great wooden doors to the hall opened. Lara sat straight up in her chair.

Slowly, hesitantly, the first of the mourners entered respectfully. Their eyes noted the Domina who sat quietly on her throne at her husband’s feet. Looks of approval passed between the people as they noted her simple garb, her swollen eyes. Many of them had never seen Magnus Hauk’s faerie wife before this day, for Terah was a great land of plains, mountains and seven fjords all opening onto the Sea of Sagitta, but they had heard much good of her.

They had traveled from their scattered farms and villages when the word had reached them of Magnus Hauk’s death. Many of them for two days, coming in from the countryside by foot and in carts. Sailing up the Dominus’s Fjord in their small boats. They had waited outside the castle for their opportunity to mourn their ruler. They did not know the Dominus personally, but they did know that in his reign there had been peace, and prosperity, that in the reign of Magnus Hauk the curse of Usi had been lifted from them. It was public opinion that Magnus Hauk had been a good ruler.

Lara sat for the next several hours in silence as the mourners filed by her husband’s bier. Afternoon slipped into evening and evening into night. There was a small stir as Lady Persis entered the Great Hall. The crowd parted for her as she made her way to where Lara sat. Embracing her daughter-in-law she said softly, “You are a Domina to be proud of, Lara. I am glad that my son was so fortunate in his wife.”

“Sit by me for a time,” Lara invited Lady Persis. “You are his mother, and you once wore the Domina’s crown.” She moved from the center of her throne to make a place for the old woman.

Lady Persis’s eyes filled with quick tears. Nodding, she accepted the invitation so graciously tendered and sat beside Lara for the next two hours. An audible murmur of approval had arisen from the mourners at the sight of the two women seated on the single throne at the foot of the coffin. Finally the young Dominus entered the hall, and escorted his grandmother out.

The night deepened. And then among the mourners there appeared familiar faces as the clan chiefs of the New Outlanders came into the hall. Liam of the Fiacre, Vanko of the Piaras, Imre of the Tormod, Roan of the Aghy, Floren of the Blathma, Rendor of the Felan, Torin of the Gitta and Accius of the Devyn. Floren had brought with him a magnificent display of flowers from his own fields, which he now set about the bier. Lara wept at the tribute, unable to help herself. With Magnus’s permission she had brought these clans from Hetar where they had been preyed upon by the government there. They had been resettled on the far side of the Emerald Mountains where there had been no inhabitants. The clans of the New Outlands had made the land their own, and had been ever grateful and loyal to Magnus Hauk for his generosity. Now they came to mourn him.The native-born Terahns again nodded at one another favorably.

The night began to wane, and during a brief lull Mila came bringing a cup of Frine Anoush had mixed with strengthening herbs for her mother. Lara was numb with her weariness and sorrow. She went to wave Mila away but then the voice of her guardian spirit, Ethne, chided her gently in the silent language from the crystal star she inhabited that hung around Lara’s slender neck.

You are far from death yourself, my child. You must keep your courage high at this time. You have done well so far but a new day is dawning, and at its end you will bid a final farewell to Magnus Hauk. But with every ending comes a new beginning. You know this to be so. Now drink the Frine that your daughter has prepared for you.

Lara took the carved silver goblet from Mila. “Thank you, and tell Anoush I thank her, as well,” she said. Then, putting the cup to her lips, Lara slowly drank its contents. Almost immediately she felt her spirit lighten, and the strength pouring back into her. She almost smiled. Anoush did not have her magic, but she certainly had her own where herbs were concerned. That and the special sight she possessed made the girl very special. But Anoush had a fragile spirit that concerned her mother.

The sun rose. It would be a beautiful day. The crowds of mourners began to thicken once again. And then as the bell tower struck the midday hour sixteen men came to carry the open coffin of the Dominus down to the ship that would carry him on his final journey. The men chosen as coffin bearers were the eight clan chiefs of the New Outlands; Magnus Hauk’s four brothers-in-law Corrado, Tostig, Armen and his wife’s brother, Prince Cirillo of the Forest Faeries; the great Shadow Prince Kaliq; Master Ing, Corrado’s older brother; Fulcrum, Chief of the Jewel Gnomes; and Gultopp, Chief of the Ore gnomes. Each was dressed in deep blue and sky-blue striped breeches topped with tunics of grass-green and short capes fashioned from cloth of gold and cloth of silver. The colors represented the sea that surrounded Terah, the sky above it and the green of its mountains and plains. The cape colors depicted the sun and the moon that shone on Terah. Beside each of the coffin bearers walked a representative from the villages on the seven fjords.

The bearers hoisted the coffin onto their shoulders. Then, led by Lara and the young Dominus, Taj Hauk, they walked with measured cadence to the lift. The wooden boards of it creaked as they all stepped on it. Then the Mountain Giant who operated the lift began to slowly lower the platform. It was so heavy they could hear him grunting with his effort, but finally the platform came to a smooth halt. The coffin bearers stepped from the lift and, led by Lara and Taj Hauk, moved with a dignified rhythm down the long stone quay to the vessel that was tethered at its end.

Lara hardly recognized the ship as the one that had killed her husband. The cracked main mast had been replaced by a straight new spar that was hung with fresh sails. They were not the lavender-colored sails that Terah’s Captain of all Captains, Corrado, favored. These sails were deep purple with starbursts of silver and gold. It was a beautiful boat, and Corrado had personally overseen its construction. Its color was a sparkling white. The glass in its bow cabin window sparkled in the sunlight reflecting the water below it. Its brass railings were polished to a high sheen. And on the prow of the ship had been affixed the figure of a winged faerie in a lavender gown, the fabric of the garment carved to appear as if it were blowing in the wind.

The bearers solemnly marched up the gangway and set the coffin down on the deck midship. The stone quay had been lined with mourners. There were many others crowding the hillsides on both sides of the fjord. Waiting at the gangway had been Lady Persis and her three daughters, along with Lara’s mother, Ilona, Queen of the Forest Faeries, and her consort, Thanos, Arik, High Priest from the Temple of the Great Creator, and his female counterpart, Kemina. Each reached out to touch the body in a final farewell as it passed them. Once the open casket bearing Magnus Hauk’s body had been delivered to the vessel, those accompanying it left the ship. Lara and Taj came to escort Lady Persis back up into the castle. They would be hosting a feast in the Great Hall for all who had come to bid their Dominus goodbye.

In the Great Hall they celebrated the life of Magnus Hauk. Accius of the Devyn, whose people were bards, had written a saga of the Dominus’s life. Now the New Outlander entertained everyone gathered by singing his creation. He sang of the Terahns who believed their women mute, and had never heard a woman’s voice until Lara arrived. He sang of how she had captured the heart of Magnus Hauk, and lifted the curse of Usi, which had really been on its men, and not the women. He sang of the Dominus’s generosity in saving the clan families from enslavement in Hetar; of how Magnus Hauk’s heart and mind had come to be open to change; of how he had become a strong leader for his people. He had been a good son to his mother; a good brother to his sisters; a sire to all the children who called him Father; and a great lover and husband to his faerie woman wife. Now the era of Magnus Hauk was ended. Accius of the Devyn sang of how Magnus Hauk’s son, the Dominus Taj, was a young man of great promise. A true tribute to his noble father.

“May he rule in peace and prosperity as did his sire before him,” Accius ended his tribute, bowing first to the young Dominus, then his mother and the rest of the guests.

There was much appreciative clapping as the Devyn bard took his seat again.

“There is something I must do before we conclude this,” Lara said softly to her young son. “I will leave my image behind so that no one knows I am gone.” She touched his cheek gently, and then was gone. Materializing first in her own chambers, she took down her sword, Andraste, which hung above the hearth. Then she reached for her staff, Verica. Verica had been away from her for a few years while he accompanied Lara’s eldest son to the desert kingdom of the Shadow Princes. Kaliq had returned him to her when Dillon had gone to Belmair. Her two companions in her firm grasp, Lara magicked them into the stables, where she hurried to the stall of her great white stallion, Dasras. Browsing in his oat bucket, he looked up, recognizing her footsteps.

“Mistress, my condolences,” he said, and bowed to her.

“Thank you,” Lara said. “Now you three must go and pay your farewells to Magnus Hauk. He has sheltered you all these many years.”

“Indeed,” Dasras replied. “It is only right, Mistress.”

“We must hurry, for his vessel will set sail at sunset,” Lara told them. Then, grasping a handful of the stallion’s thick, silvery-white mane, she vaulted onto his back, reaching for her sword and staff, which she had leaned against the stall wall.

There was no one in the stables as all were at the feast, but had there been no one would have been startled by the stable doors which opened before them. Lara rode out onto the stone quay, and up the gangway onto the deck of the ship. It bobbed gently in the flat sea about it. Lara slid off Dasras’s back.

The stallion bent his head, and touched the forehead of the dead man with his velvety muzzle. “May your journey be a safe one, Magnus Hauk. May your destination be all that you could imagine. I thank you for your kindness and your generosity to me.”

The wood staff, Verica, opened his eyes, staring down at the Dominus. “Be at peace, mortal,” he said.

Lara’s sword, Andraste, began to sing softly, her ruby eyes glowing. Usually when Andraste sang it was in a deep voice, and her song was one of threatening terror and imminent doom to all who heard it. Now, however, the voice she sang with was sweeter than honey, her words reassuring. “You have earned your place among those few especial mortals, Magnus Hauk, Dominus of Terah. Your progeny will honor your name forever. Walk in the light you have made yourself by your good deeds and your good heart. I bid you farewell!”

Lara’s eyes misted briefly. Andraste’s tribute to Magnus Hauk had come from the very core of the magic weapon. Andraste did not suffer fools, or give praise lightly. “Thank you all,” she told her closest companions. Then, using her magic, she sent them back to their places. Alone on the ship Lara sank to the deck next to the open coffin. “I have done everything that was expected of me, and more, my lord,” she told him. “I am not Terahn born, but I have kept Terahn customs better than any Terahn. No one will question our son’s blood, my love. And in these few days I have certainly seen how much like you he really is. Did you see how he put Narda and Aselma in their places?” She laughed softly. “He is pure mortal Terahn, Magnus. He will be a good Dominus, but I would have preferred it if he were older.” She sighed. “I have prevented any challenge to Taj’s rights by appointing our brothers-in-law as the Dominus’s Council. They say they will leave me in peace to do what I must, but I wonder, Magnus. I wonder.”

Lara reached out and touched her husband’s lifeless face. “I do not think I can bear it without you, but I have to, don’t I?” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Taj needs me, and so do Anoush, Zagiri and Marzina.” She sighed again. “My mother warned me that giving my faerie heart to a mortal would bring me eventual sorrow. At least now you do not have to grow old while I remain as I am. Oh, Magnus! There wasn’t enough time. There just wasn’t enough time!” And Lara wept.

“You cannot stay here any longer.” The voice of the Shadow Prince, Kaliq, pierced through her grief. “Your image is beginning to waver, and you will cause a panic if it disappears entirely. Your hall is full of mortal beings who are not used to your faerie magic, Lara, my love. Have mercy upon them, I beg you.”

She looked up to see him standing by her side. “Nay, I don’t want them remembering Magnus Hauk’s Farewell as the time his faerie wife disappeared before their eyes.” She stood up. “Return!” she said and found herself back in the hall in her seat. Reaching out, she touched her son’s cheek with her fingertips to let him know she was returned. “The sun is close to setting, my lord Dominus,” she told him.

Taj Hauk stood up, and immediately the Great Hall grew silent. “It is time,” he told them all. Then he stepped from the dais and led his mother from the High Board through the crowds in the large chamber.

“Give us a blessing, faerie woman,” some dared to beg as they passed by, and when they did Lara would smile sweetly and say that they now had it.

“They love her,” Lady Persis said to her daughters.

“I don’t know why they should,” Narda muttered.

“Nor I,” Aselma agreed.

“It is because you do not know her,” Sirvat told them. “If you did you would not be so spiteful, sisters.”

“She bewitched our brother, and held him in her thrall, yet she could not save him from death,” Aselma said bitterly.

“It is not within a faerie’s powers to keep death away for long,” Sirvat responded. “She did what she could so Magnus might make his last wishes known. And she healed my husband of grievous wounds.”

“Well,” Narda said, “at least our husbands will be in charge of directing our nephew’s path. Terah will be as it has always been.”

“Aye!” Aselma echoed.

“How ignorant you both are,” Sirvat answered. “Terah will never be as it was. Not now that Hetar knows us. Magnus knew that, and was wise enough to raise a defense force to keep us strong and safe.”

“And that would have never had to happen if she hadn’t come here,” Narda replied. “She has brought the misfortune of strangers upon us.”

“If Lara hadn’t come our men would still be deaf to our voices, although I imagine there are times Tostig would be happy not to hear your discontented carping,” Sirvat said sharply. “Terah is the better for Lara. Our brother is gone, but she gave him a fine son who has taken his place as our Dominus. Now see if you can both cease your bitterness long enough to honor our brother as he leaves us.”

“Your sister is correct in all she says,” Lady Persis said quietly.

“What, Mother? Do you take Lara’s side now?” Aselma wanted to know.

“When Lara came I will admit I was not happy, for I expected my son to wed a Terahn girl, but the truth is none suited him. Lara, however, did suit him. She has been a good wife to your brother, giving him children, and while she is bolder than Terahn women, it pleased your brother that she was. Look at all that has happened since his death three days ago. Could any Terahn-born Domina have acted more suitably, my daughters? She has honored the customs of this land scrupulously. I know now more than ever how fortunate my son was in his choice of a wife. Now cease your meanness.”

Narda and Aselma were surprised by their mother’s words. They grew silent, and now, joined by their husbands, came down from the castle and walked in procession to the great vessel whose sails had all been raised now. Arik, High Priest of the Temple of the Great Creator, came forward joined by the High Priestess from the Temple of the Daughters of the Great Creator, Kemina. They held their hands up to the evening sky.

“As death follows life, and night the day, we give thanks, Great Creator, for the life of Magnus Hauk,” Arik said in a strong voice that carried throughout the entire crowd, and even across the fjord.

“For three days his essence has hovered near the body that housed it. It is now time for Magnus Hauk to begin his journey into the next life, Oh Great Creator,” Kemina said, her own voice carrying well.

“May he be at peace, and leave us contented in the knowledge that in his time here he did well, and that the fruit of his loins will follow in his footsteps,” Arik said. The High Priest presented the young Dominus with a flaming torch.

A small cry of surprise arose from the crowd when Taj Hauk handed the burning brand to his mother. A murmur of approval followed as Lara reached out to take her son’s hand and place it on the hand that held the torch. Together they stepped forward setting the coffin of Magnus Hauk afire. Priests from the temple quickly came aboard to see that the entire ship was torched. Taj Hauk sliced through the ropes holding the boat to the stone quay. A light wind sprang up, and the flames began to leap higher as the vessel slipped out into the fjord and began to move downstream.

The young Dominus in the company of Corrado, the men of the family and specially chosen male guests would follow the ship out to sea, escorting it until it was burned to the waterline and sank. Lara invited the women of the family to return to the castle and watch the burning boat until it was no longer visible. They came, of course, but only Lara stood watching from a garden terrace until the flames were no longer visible. She struggled to sense his presence, but Magnus Hauk had truly gone for good. He had not lingered. Once more she wept softly, alone, for she wanted no comfort now. She needed to release her grief entirely so that she might be clearheaded, and better able to aid her son as he began his rule.

Corrado’s ship did not return that night. The mourners began to return to their own homes. Aselma and Narda would have remained waiting for Armen and Tostig, but their mother told them no. She promised them that Lara would return their husbands to them by means of her magic, but they must go. “I am going, too. And Sirvat, as well.”

As she saw her mother-in-law off Lara thanked her.

Lady Persis smiled the first kind smile she had ever smiled at Lara. “You need time to gather your strength, my daughter. Remember I know the truth of my son’s last wishes, and will keep your secrets. I will return when Taj is formally crowned.” Then she kissed Lara upon both cheeks with her cold, dry lips.

“She puts me to shame by her example,” Lara’s mother, Ilona, said sourly. “Come back to the forest with me. The old witch is right. You do need to gather your strength.”

“Your realm has never given me strength,” Lara replied. “I need to be here. Terah is from where I take my strength.”

“Let me have Marzina, then, for a brief time,” Ilona said.

“Not yet, Mother. Marzina needs to be with her brother and sisters now. I will send her to you in time,” Lara promised.

“You are so protective of that child,” Ilona complained. “I am her grandmother, after all. She is pure magic, and I have much to teach her, Lara.”

Lara felt a stab of irritation. “I wish you had been as thoughtful of me when I was her age,” she said. Then she relented. “Marzina is fortunate to have you, Mother.”

“Of course she is,” Ilona said calmly. “Do you think Persis can teach her anything of value? Persis would teach her to be obedient to male domination, and how to make conserves, and sugared violets. Bah! Marzina is magic, and I will teach her how to use it. With her bloodline she will be a great sorceress when she is grown.”

“She is Magnus’s daughter, a Terahn princess,” Lara replied in an even voice.

Ilona laughed. We know better, you and I, she said in the silent language.

Lara grew pale. You are cruel to remind me, Mother. Marzina must never know that the Twilight Lord violated me upon the Dream Plain when I was carrying Taj, and set his seed to bloom in me so that she was born when Taj was. You told everyone who would listen when I birthed her that she favored a Nix ancestress. No one has ever questioned her birth. Aye, magic courses through her veins, but the Twilight Lord was an evil being. I will not deny Marzina her talent, but I want it used only for good. Once you begin to teach her serious magic who knows what will be unleashed in her, Lara said.

And only you or I can educate her to control any wickedness that may arise in her, the Queen of the Forest Faeries replied.

“She is still too young,” Lara answered.

“She is thirteen,” Ilona responded.

“Let our lives settle themselves back into a normal pattern. I will send her to you before the next Icy Season,” Lara promised her mother.

“It is agreed, then,” Ilona said. “Farewell, Daughter.” And she was gone in a burst of purple smoke.

Lara sighed with relief. But for her daughters the castle was now empty of all guests. Everyone had returned home but for those with Corrado. She sought for her daughters, finding them in her private garden. It was a small, pretty space on a promontory that overlooked the Dominus’s Fjord. On three sides of the garden high, vine-covered walls offered a view of the water. On the fourth side a castle tower soared into the skies above. Lara slipped off her shoes before walking out onto the fresh green grass where Anoush, Zagiri and Marzina were now seated near a bed of bright yellow and white spring flowers. A small nearby miniature almond tree was in bloom, its pink blossoms delicately scenting the air. Lara came and sat with them.

“It seems strange without Father here,” Zagiri said softly.

“I cannot sense him at all,” Marzina agreed.

“He has gone,” Lara told them. “Sometimes spirits will linger, but his did not. I do not know why that is, but it is.”

“It hurt too much to stay,” Anoush told her companions. “He told me that before he went. He did not want any of us to stand still as if waiting for his return. He wanted us all to move forward with our lives.”

“Can you sense him at all?” Lara asked her eldest daughter.

Anoush shook her head. “He is gone, Mother.”

“His vessel must have gone far that those accompanying it are not yet back,” Zagiri noted. “It was a magnificent Farewell. I wonder that more Terahns do not do it.”

“Not all Terahns have access to the sea, or have vessels to burn,” Lara replied. “Usually such Farewells are reserved for a Dominus and his family.”

“What will we do now?” Marzina wondered.

“Our lives will continue as they always have,” Lara told her daughters.

“How can they without Father?” Marzina responded anxiously. “Nothing will ever be the same again, Mother! Nothing!”

“You are correct,” Lara said. “Nothing will ever be the same as it has been with Magnus Hauk in our midst. It will be totally different, and yet it will also be familiar. Although your father has left us, it does not mean we will change the pattern of our days. Tomorrow you and Zagiri will begin your lessons once again, and Anoush will prepare for her annual trek to the New Outlands to visit her father’s family. If Taj is back then he will resume his studies once more. Your father would not want us to stop living because he is no longer living.”

“Taj is the Dominus now,” Marzina replied. “Why should he need to continue studying? He is his own man.”

“Taj is still a boy, and his capacity for knowledge will never be satisfied, for he is like his father,” Lara said. “Besides, no man, or woman for that matter, should rule from a position of ignorance, Marzina. And none of us should ever stop learning.”

“You don’t know half of what you will need to know to be a good Terahn wife,” Zagiri remarked. “Even I still have much to learn, and I am four years your senior.”

“I do not need to know any more about cooking and soap making,” Marzina said scornfully. “I want to learn more magic. Grandmother Ilona has promised to teach me.”

“And provided your behavior is exemplary over these next few months I shall allow you to go to her just before the Icy Season,” Lara said quietly.

Marzina’s eyes widened with surprise and delight. “Oh, Mother!” she gasped. “Really? Truly? I can go to Grandmother soon?”

“If you show me that you are mature enough to be taught by your grandmother, Marzina, then just before the Icy Season begins you may go to the Forest Kingdom. But not a moment before. If, however, you act the spoiled princess as you sometimes do, if you play wicked magic tricks on the servants, then I shall decide that you are not yet old enough to be away from home. Your grandmother will not be an easy taskmistress.”

“I will be good,” Marzina promised.

“Hah!” Zagiri said scornfully. “I shall be amazed if you are.” She mischievously stuck her tongue out at her younger sister. “Want to turn me into a toadstool, brat?”

Marzina’s purple eyes narrowed dangerously. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, “but I might make your careless tongue sprout with toadstools, sister dear.”

Zagiri shrieked, horrified, for she knew Marzina could do exactly what she threatened to do.

“This is not the kind of behavior that will gain you the privilege of going to your grandmother’s, Marzina,” her mother said quietly.

“I didn’t say I would, Mother. I just said I might,” Marzina answered pertly.

Lara had to laugh. “Well, threatening is as bad as doing it, so control your anger in the future. You must learn that or else your magic will control you, and not the other way around.” She turned to Zagiri. “You are happy being what you are, my golden daughter. Please let Marzina be what she is meant to be. You should help one another. Now I would be alone in my garden. Leave me, my darlings.”

They all arose from the soft lawn, and the three sisters hurried back into the castle. Lara walked to the end of her garden, and, reaching a wall, looked down the Dominus’s Fjord and out to the sea. Suddenly she could just make out a faint smudge of lavender upon the horizon. It would be the sails of Corrado’s vessel, and it was headed home. A wave of sadness overwhelmed her briefly. It was finished. Magnus was gone. She felt the ice about her cold faerie heart harden with her admission of fact. The small bit of mortal within her retreated, cowed by the magic thundering through her veins now. There was no time for mortal weakness anymore.

But her brief mourning had weakened her. She needed to go where she might regain her strength again, and she knew just the place. But first she must set her household in order. Taj would return by nightfall. She could not escape until everything was as it should be. She would ask Corrado to stay at the castle while she was gone, for she could not leave her children without proper supervision. But she needed a few days to herself. She needed to draw deep from her well of strength. Even a faerie woman had her limits though few would consider that.

Lara felt a soft breeze touch her face. It smelled of both the sea and the spring flowers that grew on the cliffs around them. She breathed deep, and felt a wave of peace flow over her. A smile touched her lips. She would have a small respite before she would be needed. Her instincts told her that, and Lara was both glad and relieved. Looking out toward the sea, she could see the lavender smudge taking on the shape of sails. The return of Corrado’s ship meant a whole new era was beginning. And once again Lara’s destiny was moving closer.