Читать книгу The Shadow Queen - Bertrice Small - Страница 12
ОглавлениеCHAPTER FOUR
“THEY HAVE REFUSED us!” Jonah, Lord High Ruler of Hetar, was not pleased. Angrily he held out the parchment to Vilia, almost shaking it in her pale face.
She took it from him, and read the contents, frowning. “The boy was eager for the match I am told,” she said slowly. “It is obvious now that he is not as much in charge as I believed. Nor is his council it would appear.”
“Then it is the faerie woman who rules!” Jonah said. “Has she managed to spread her seditious movement to Terah?”
“Terah would never accept a woman ruler,” Vilia replied. “She manipulates the boy from behind his throne. Any mother in her position would do so. Do you think Egon could rule Hetar by himself if you were gone, my love? I would certainly be behind my son’s throne instructing him, teaching him. That is what the Domina does.”
“Why does she refuse me? It was your first husband, Gaius Prospero, who was her enemy, not I. Her daughter would be wife to a great ruler. Does she think she can do better for the girl? Who, then? Surely she cannot believe the son of some wealthy Terahn a better match for her daughter than me?”
“Perhaps the Domina is uncomfortable with the fact I still live,” Vilia murmured. “Or perhaps she seeks a title for the girl. You are Lord High Ruler, my husband, but I am just your wife. A princess cannot go from being a princess to just a plain wife.” It had always annoyed Vilia that despite all the help she had given Jonah raising him to ultimate power, he had never seen fit to share that power with her. “Or mayhap she does believe the son of a wealthy man who would actually love her daughter would be a better husband to Princess Zagiri than you, Jonah.”
“Then the Domina is a fool, except we know she is not,” he replied irritably.
“Be patient, my husband,” Vilia advised him. “I will try again, and this time I will send a small miniature of your face for the girl to see.”
“They will hardly show her a miniature of me if they mean to refuse me again,” he snarled at her. “Do you enjoy my embarrassment, Vilia? Does it give you pleasure in your last days to see me humiliated by the faerie woman and her ilk?”
“Jonah, Jonah,” Vilia lamented. “Have you learned nothing from me? Offer to give the girl a title. One that will make it appear as if you are sharing your power with her, but that actually means nothing. Princess Zagiri will be known as the First Lady of Hetar. Is that so difficult for you to do? The girl is worth it I promise you. She is very beautiful. Would you like to see?”
His black eyes narrowed speculatively. “What is it you keep from me, Vilia? Of late you have been privy to much information of a sort not available to me. How is this so, my wife?” Reaching out, he took her thin hand in his, his fingers tightening about her fingers.
“Let me go, Jonah,” she said in a suddenly hard voice. She pulled her hand from his rough grasp. “You know of my secret heritage,” she reminded him. “That I descend from Ulla, and the great sorcerer, Usi.”
He nodded.
“When our son began to sicken I reached out to any who would aid me,” Vilia told her husband. “A Darkling—her name is Ciarda—answered my call. On my death Egon will grow strong again, and fulfill the destiny meant for him as a mighty conqueror. Ciarda has a sister among the faerie post who brings her information from Terah, which is how I know the things I do. She gave me a miniature of Princess Zagiri, to show you, Jonah.” Vilia reached beneath her coverlet and drew out the small oval, which she handed to her husband. “Isn’t she lovely?”
Jonah stared at the heart-shaped face with its fair skin and soft, rosy cheeks. The girl’s mouth was lush. Seeing it, he considered the many uses those lips could have. Her eyes were green edged in dark gold lashes. Her hair was a mass of luxuriant golden curls that tumbled over her shoulders. He stared, mesmerized by her beauty. And then before his eyes the small miniature began to change, darkening first, and then growing light once again to show him an entirely different view of the painting’s subject.
Jonah’s mouth fell open with surprise as the picture now revealed the completely naked form of the Terahn princess. Her breasts were small but full with dainty coral-pink nipples. The figure in the miniature frame lifted one of those breasts as if holding it out to him while her other hand moved down her torso to rest suggestively at the smooth junction mounding between her shapely thighs. He licked his lips anticipating what it would be like to have the girl beneath him moaning with her need.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Vilia remarked once again. “She would be worth a fight, wouldn’t she, Jonah? If Terah will not give her to you then you must take her.”
“If Egon grows strong again with your sacrifice, Vilia, then why do I need a young wife to give me more children?” he asked her.
“I have told you that your offspring will be bargaining chips not just to solidify your power, but their brother’s, as well. His best allies will be his kinsmen and -women.”
“Has the Darkling fixed the time of your death?” Jonah asked Vilia. His mind was filled with lustful thoughts of the girl in the miniature. He couldn’t keep his eyes from it, and now the golden beauty was spreading her nether lips open with her fingers to reveal to him her hidden treasures. Her love bud was swollen, and pearly with her juices. The picture was so real that he could almost sense the taste of her on his tongue. Jonah had to turn away, for his lust was close to boiling over. The manhood beneath his robes was swollen and throbbing. He wanted Zagiri as he had never wanted another woman. And he would have her! Nothing, not even the faerie woman, would stand in his way.
“I cannot let go of my tenuous hold on life until I am certain that you will take this Terahn princess for your wife, Jonah,” Vilia answered him. “Bring her to Hetar. Let me see her, and I will be satisfied, but you must not delay, for our son grows weaker with every passing day. We will send your miniature to Terah, and ask once again for Princess Zagiri. If they refuse us then you will take her by force. Who are these Terahns that they dare to deny the Lord High Ruler of Hetar?” Vilia held out her hand. “Give me back the princess’s miniature.”
“Nay,” Jonah replied. “I would keep it.”
She laughed. The Darkling Ciarda had told Vilia that the picture held an enchantment that would make Jonah lust after Zagiri of Terah. And the miniature they would send secretly to the innocent girl would also be enchanted. Zagiri would fall in love with Jonah in spite of herself. She would want him, too, and would become his loyal minion. And the faerie woman Lara would have no choice but to ally with Hetar then. Jonah would be safe against the Hierarch if indeed he actually existed. I will die happy, Vilia told herself. Jonah and Egon will be safe. And Terah will be ripe for the plucking when my son is old enough to take it. Did not my cousin Kol promise me that night on the Dream Plain that Egon would be a great conqueror? “Aye, keep your miniature,” she told her husband. “It will keep your appetite whetted for the girl, won’t it, Jonah?” And Vilia laughed weakly. Then she closed her eyes, listening as he retreated from her bedchamber and closed the door behind him.
He shoved the small magical painting into the pocket of his robes. A young serving wench was sweeping the carpet in the dimly lit corridor. Striding up to her he said in a harsh voice, “Lift your gown, wench, put your palms against the wall and bend over for me.” She did not argue or even speak but obeyed his rough commands instantly. Jonah was grateful that Vilia had taught their servants total obedience. Pulling up his robe, he directed his aching manhood, thrusting into the serving girl, pumping her hard as he imagined her to be Zagiri of Terah. He pushed deeper and deeper. The girl moaned as she shared pleasures with him. Finally satisfied he released his juices, withdrew from the servant and, pulling down his robes, hurried off down the hallway.
The encounter had taken the edge off of his lusts for now. Jonah was surprised by his reaction to the painting of the young princess. He had always been a careful man. A man who retained complete charge over himself, and those about him. But seeing the girl’s beautiful face, and then her even more beautiful body, a body that was obviously filled with passion, he had found himself helpless to his own lusts. He had to regain control of himself again. He would not be like his predecessor, Gaius Prospero, who had found himself ensorcelled by a young and beautiful wife, and lost all of his abilities to rule in his desire to be with her. Nay! This beautiful, royal young wife would bring him prestige among the magnates of Hetar, and the people. He would convince them all that his marriage to Princess Zagiri of Terah would be the beginning of a new and prosperous era for Hetar. He would miss Vilia. But her sacrifice would not be in vain.
Once again the Lord High Ruler of Hetar applied to the young Dominus of Terah for his sister Zagiri’s hand. Taking Vilia’s advice, he told the Dominus that his sister would be known as the First Lady of Hetar, a title created especially for her. She would have a home in The City, and a villa in the Outlands on the sea. She would have vineyards, horses and cattle that would be hers. And all the slaves and servants she desired. He would treat her with respect and honor.
“If this came from any other man,” Lara said, “I should seriously consider it, but not Jonah. The man is wickedness personified. His persistence disturbs me.”
“He has sent a miniature of himself,” Ampyx said, holding it out to his mistress.
She looked at it. “He does not flatter himself,” she noted. “I will give him that. Dispose of it, and send the Lord High Ruler a final refusal. Be less diplomatic this time, Ampyx,” Lara instructed him. “Polite, but firm.”
“I will attend to it, Domina,” Ampyx replied, taking the miniature and bowing himself from her library. In his own small chamber the First Secretary set the miniature down on his writing table and wrote the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. Then, calling an undersecretary to him, he dispatched the missive not noticing that the miniature had disappeared from his large writing table.
* * *
ZAGIRI AWOKE THE following morning to find the miniature upon her pillow. Picking it up, she gazed into the dark eyes of the man pictured, and an odd feeling she could not put a name to overcame her. He could not be called handsome. His long face was perhaps a bit too severe, but there was a distinguished air about him. “Who are you?” she wondered aloud, and turned the miniature over. Jonah, Lord High Ruler of Hetar were the words inscribed upon the reverse of the little painting.
Surprised, Zagiri turned the oval in her hand back again to look upon his face. His dark eyes compelled her and when his thin lips twitched with a small amused smile Zagiri gasped with surprise, dropping the miniature in her hand. It fell toward the floor of the chamber, and then jumped back up directly into her palm again. Her fingers closed about it as if to protect it from further misadventure.
Suddenly the picture went dark, and when it grew light once more it pictured the dark-eyed man upon a large bed making love to a golden-haired girl Zagiri recognized as herself. She could not turn away from the tableau playing out before her eyes. The man was slender, but well muscled. His male member was quite large. He reached out to caress the breast of the naked girl and Zagiri could feel that hand caressing her breast. His mouth closed over a nipple, and Zagiri felt the tug of his lips, the swipe of his tongue as he licked the warm flesh of her bosom. She sighed with pleasure as those lips touched hers. She felt the pressure of them, the heat of them. Oh, it was wonderful! She had been kissed before, but never quite like this. A little moan escaped her, and, startled, she turned away from the miniature. When she looked back again it was his face she saw.
Had she imagined that erotic scene? Of course she had! Pictures of people didn’t become alive. Zagiri laughed weakly. How had the miniature gotten into her bedchamber, and upon her pillow? She somehow knew her mother would not approve. Why did Lara dislike the Lord High Ruler of Hetar so much? Oh, she said he was wicked, and indeed the man in the painting did look a bit wicked. But he fascinated her, too. She was seventeen, and not a baby like Marzina who was four years younger. Shouldn’t she be allowed a say in her future?
The search was on for a suitable prospective husband for her. Her mother and her grandmother were both involved in it. They would undoubtedly be parading a group of handsome, wealthy young men before her sooner than later. Suddenly Zagiri didn’t know if she wanted to be married to a handsome, wealthy young man. She glanced down at the miniature again. The Lord High Ruler of Hetar had a seductive face that hinted at a very sensual nature, and while Zagiri was the most mortal of Lara’s daughters she had her mother’s passionate and fierce sexual nature. Jonah of Hetar looked like a far more interesting bed partner than the respectable scion of any wealthy Terahn family.
I want a man for a husband, not a boy, Zagiri thought to herself. Then she wondered again from where the miniature had come. She would ask Marzina about it. Her younger sister was good at keeping secrets, and usually knew everything that went on in the castle.
“Mother got another offer from Hetar for your hand yesterday,” Marzina was pleased to tell her elder sibling. She very much enjoyed knowing what Zagiri did not.
“Why wasn’t I told?” Zagiri said, annoyed. “I am not a child. Why does Mother insist upon treating me like one?”
“There was a miniature with the missive, but Mother told Ampyx to dispose of it,” Marzina cheerfully volunteered.
“This miniature?” Zagiri said, holding it out for Marzina to see.
“Where did you get that?” the younger girl asked.
“It was on my pillow when I awoke this morning,” Zagiri replied.
Marzina looked at the portrait. “He is not young,” she noted. “And I feel the wickedness about him even just looking at his picture.”
“I think he is very attractive. He looks like a man who knows how to rule,” Zagiri said. “I would not mind if they made me his wife.”
“You would have to leave Terah, and go to live in Hetar,” Marzina responded.
“Terah is quiet and dull,” Zagiri answered her younger sister. “Hetar, I think, would be exciting.” She took the little portrait back from Marzina. “Don’t tell anyone I have this. It is probably the closest I will ever get to Hetar,” she said with a sigh.
“You need to take a lover,” Marzina remarked wisely.
“I do not want a lover. I just want a husband,” Zagiri said.
“But if you don’t take a lover or two before you must wed then you will never know what other men are like,” Marzina said. “It is not forbidden to take lovers once we reach the age of fourteen. Don’t tell me you would go to your husband a virgin, Zagiri? If you have no experience, and do not know how to give and share pleasures you will disappoint him greatly. A woman should know how to offer pleasures, sister.”
“There are none who have attracted me,” Zagiri replied. Until now, she thought. “I should like to take pleasures with the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. I think he is probably the only man I should ever want.”
“Oh, you just think that because Mother says you can’t have him.” Marzina chuckled. Then she grew serious. “If our mother says this man is wicked, and not suitable, sister, then she is right. Remember Mother comes from Hetar. She knows these people, and we do not. If she believed this man was the right man for you, Zagiri, she would let you have him.”
“If I married this man I should be on an equal footing with Mother,” Zagiri said. “I should be the wife of a powerful ruler of a great kingdom. Indeed, Mother is merely the widow of a ruler, and parent to a Dominus. I should hold a higher position now.”
“Well, since you aren’t going to marry the Lord High Ruler of Hetar there is no need for us to have this discussion, is there?” Marzina said. She wasn’t sure she liked the attitude that her sister was suddenly taking.
“You will not tell anyone I have this miniature, will you?” Zagiri said.
“Nay, it is harmless enough, and if it amuses you…” Marzina answered.
During the nights that followed Zagiri began to dream of Jonah, the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. To Zagiri’s surprise she found herself upon the Dream Plain each night, and he was always there. The first night it happened she asked him, “How has this come to be, my lord Jonah?”
“Do you think your mother is the only one with magic at her command, my golden girl?” Jonah answered Zagiri.
“Do you have magic?” she asked him.
“I have it at my beck and call,” he told her, “but I am but mortal as you are.”
“But you brought me here tonight,” she reminded him.
“Aye, I did. I want to know you, Zagiri, and they will not allow it. But they do not know, shall not know, that we will meet upon the Dream Plain in the nights to come. And then you shall become my bride, my golden girl.”
“My mother says you are old,” she told him.
Jonah laughed. “I am not a youth,” he admitted. “But I am yet young enough to give you pleasures such as no other man can, and I can give you children.”
“She says you are wicked,” Zagiri continued.
“I prefer to believe that I have done what I must for Hetar,” he said. “I am a man who has never shirked from his duty to himself or his kingdom.”
“Why do you want me?” she asked softly.
“It was my dying wife, Vilia, who has chosen you for me. Vilia has always put my best interests first and foremost. She has been an excellent wife. She says you will take up where she leaves off. That you will put my interests first because you will love me as she has loved me. Is she right, Zagiri? Will you love me?” His coal-black eyes scanned her small face. Then he bent and gently kissed her lips. “Love me, my little golden girl,” he pleaded with her. “Love me!” His arms went around her.
“Oh, yes!” Zagiri whispered breathlessly. “Oh, yes, Jonah!” Her heart was hammering wildly. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. She looked up into his stern face and was lost to him. This was a man! A real man. She sensed the danger about him, but was not afraid. He needed her, and she was going to be there for him. But then she remembered his wife, Lady Vilia. “Your wife?” she said, low.
“Will release her hold upon life as soon as she knows you will come to me,” he told her softly, and his hand caressed her face.
In the nights that followed Zagiri met Jonah upon the Dream Plain. He would kiss her, and he would caress her, but he would not take pleasures with her because she was a virgin.
“We shall have a wedding night like no other,” he promised her. “I shall have from you what no other man has ever had. And you will belong to me alone, my golden girl. You are mine. Mine!”
“But how can we wed?” Zagiri asked him. “My mother has forbidden it. Both my brother, the Dominus, and his council are in agreement that you shall not have me.”
Jonah smiled at her, and it was the first full smile she had ever seen him smile. His teeth were very white, she noted. “How brave are you, my Zagiri?”
“I do not know,” she answered him candidly. “I do not believe I have ever really had to be brave. What is it you are proposing?”
“Tomorrow night you will go to sleep in your own bed. You will join me upon the Dream Plain, but we shall not part. You will awaken in Hetar, my golden girl. I have the magic at my command to make it happen. Would you like that?” he asked her, and he dipped his head to kiss the nipple of her breast.
“Will we marry quickly?” she asked him. “My mother will swiftly realize what we have done. And if she does not her mentor Prince Kaliq surely will.”
“Vilia would speak with you before she dies, Zagiri. She would be certain that you will take her place in my life, and in our son’s life. Then she will die. I will mourn her publicly for nine days. And after that I will be free to wed you, and we shall marry. You will be titled the First Lady of Hetar, my golden girl. Will that please you?”
“How can you be certain that your wife will die after meeting me and satisfying herself that I am suitable?” Zagiri asked cleverly.
“You have told me yourself that your father clung to life with your mother’s help so he was able to dictate his final wishes,” Jonah said. “So Vilia, with the aid of magic, clings to life. She has told me herself that once she sees and speaks with you that her death is imminent. I believe her.” Leaning forward, Jonah kissed Zagiri’s lush mouth. “Will you come to me tomorrow night, my golden girl?”
“I will come,” Zagiri promised him. “And then I will be your wife, and we shall take pleasures together. I hope you are good at giving pleasures, for you shall be the only man I know. My appetites are great, for I am my mother’s daughter in that respect.”
“I will see you are well satisfied, Zagiri,” Jonah promised her. She would come to him tomorrow! The Darkling Ciarda would make it possible as she had made these visits to the Dream Plain possible. “Until tomorrow,” he told Zagiri and then she awoke.
Was it possible? Was it really possible that she could be transported to Hetar from the Dream Plain? Was it really possible that tomorrow night she would go to sleep in her own bed in her parents’ castle, and awaken in a bed in Hetar next to the man she had come to love? Zagiri knew her mother would be frantic, but it was to be hoped that by the time she discovered the whereabouts of her daughter Zagiri would be Jonah’s wife. Lara would be angry, of course, that Zagiri had flouted her wishes, but she would forgive Magnus Hauk’s eldest child. She would forgive her daughter. And Hetar would be bound to Terah by this marriage. She was really doing a great service for her kingdom, Zagiri decided. She was making a peace that would last between the two kingdoms.
The summer was upon them. It was the day Anoush would leave for the New Outlands. Lara had decided to go with her eldest daughter for a few days. They would take Lara’s great winged white stallion, Dasras. Dasras was eager to visit the many mares belonging to the Aghy Horse Lord, Roan. He had sired many a foal on Roan’s mares, and the Horse Lord was always happy to see him visiting although Roan’s breeding stallion was not.
Anoush was eager to leave the castle. Her heart had always been with her father’s people. This time she knew she would have to ask her mother to let her remain with the Fiacre clan family. No Terahn male had taken her fancy. Indeed most of the Terahn men were wary of the girl. Her gifts of healing and especially of sight frightened them. While they found her fair to look at, and gently spoken, she was not the sort of woman a Terahn man wanted for his wife despite her lofty connections.
And Lara knew she would lose this eldest daughter of hers to the Fiacre this summer. But she would not forbid it. She could not. She would see Anoush had her own fine stone house with a garden, and a herd of cattle to call her own. There were serving women eager to serve in the house of the daughter of the great Fiacre hero, Vartan. Anoush had family in the New Outlands. Her foster parents and their children, who were her blood kin, among others. And perhaps there would be a husband for Anoush among the Fiacre. A man who would dare to make this special girl his own.
“I will miss you very much,” Zagiri said to her eldest sister.
“You will come and visit in late summer with our siblings like you always do,” Anoush replied.
“Perhaps not this year,” Zagiri replied.
“And why not?” her mother wanted to know.
“Mayhap I shall have something else to do,” Zagiri answered.
Lara laughed. “I can see your sister is looking ahead to perhaps some young man to come courting her.”
Anoush said nothing, but she was suddenly troubled. Zagiri was hiding something, and that was not at all like her sister. Zagiri was usually an open book.
Lara’s children walked to the stables with her where Dasras was already saddled, and waiting for the two women. The Domina hugged her children, cautioning Taj not to make any decisions in the next few days without her. He grinned and agreed. “Now both of you, do not quarrel with each other, I beg you,” Lara said to Zagiri and Marzina.
“Would it be all right if I went and visited Grandmother?” Zagiri asked in innocent tones. “I have not seen her in several weeks, and I know she gets lonely.”
“That is most thoughtful of you, Zagiri,” Lara said. “Aye, go and visit Lady Persis if it would please you. It will please her, I know.”
Zagiri smiled sweetly, and secretly congratulated herself on being particularly clever. If everyone thought she was at her grandmother’s she would not be missed until her mother returned. By the time they sent for her and the word was returned that she had never been at her grandmother’s it would be too late. Vilia would be dead and mourned her nine days, and she would be Jonah’s new wife. Zagiri almost hugged herself with her delight.
Anoush looked at her sister strangely as she was helped up onto Dasras’s broad back. There was something wrong. She sensed it, but whatever it was her sister’s mind was such a jumble of thoughts Anoush could not get a grasp of it. Should she say something or was it just Zagiri’s usual racing thoughts? Finding herself seated upon the great horse, Anoush suddenly thought of the New Outlands, and how eager she was to get there. Putting her arms about her mother’s waist, she put everything from her mind but the happiness she felt at leaving the castle.
The great stallion unfolded his beautiful wings. He trotted from the stable yard beneath a stone arch, and then began to gallop across a long green meadow until finally his wings began to gracefully flap, lifting him and his passengers into the air. He turned, soaring over the castle and the fjord. Then, crossing the fjord, he set his direction toward the Emerald Mountains, and the New Outlands beyond.
Magnus Hauk’s three children watched them go.
“Anoush won’t come back except for a visit now and again,” Taj said.
“She’s happier with the Fiacre,” Zagiri remarked.
“We have to get back to our studies,” Marzina reminded them, and together the trio walked from the stable yard back into the castle.
That evening as they sat finishing their meal Taj noted, “It is odd without both Father and Mother, isn’t it?”
“They’ve both been away before,” Marzina said.
“But now Father isn’t coming back,” Taj said softly. “I miss him.”
“So do I,” Marzina admitted.
“It is the nature of things to change,” Zagiri told them. “Remember Dillon is gone, then Father, and now Anoush. I will leave you next. Then Marzina. Only Taj will remain here at the castle, for he is the Dominus.”
“You aren’t going anywhere for a long time,” Marzina said.
“She’s going to Grandmother’s tomorrow,” Taj noted.
“But only for a few days,” his twin quickly responded.
“And you and I shall be left alone,” Taj said.
“We shared our mother’s womb. I think we can share a castle without getting into too much trouble,” Marzina said mischievously. “My behavior must remain above reproach for Mother has promised me that if I don’t get into any trouble I shall go to the Forest Kingdom to our queenly grandmother for training in magic soon.”
“I have noticed,” her brother teased, “that you haven’t turned any of the servants into frogs, butterflies and birds of late.”
“I always turned them back,” Marzina said defensively.
“You and your magic are so childish,” Zagiri said. “When are you going to grow up, little sister? Men do not like women who are too clever.”
“Father liked our mother well enough,” Marzina said pertly. “I doubt I shall ever wed a mortal man. I will need a man who understands my great talents.”
“You will need a miracle, then,” Zagiri said and Taj laughed aloud.
Marzina’s face darkened briefly but then she laughed, too. “I’m too young to wed, anyway. But you aren’t, Zagiri. I wonder what kind of husband they will find for you.”
“I will find my own husband,” Zagiri replied.
“Hah!” Her younger sister snorted derisively. “You know as well as I do that our mother must approve any match we make.”
“It is bad enough to be treated like a child by Mother,” Zagiri said irritably, “but to be spoken to like one by my little sister is not to be tolerated!” She stood up from the table. “I am going to bathe, and then go to bed.”
“It is early yet,” Taj noted.
“I am leaving early for Grandmother Persis’s house. As it is not far I shall walk,” Zagiri told her siblings. “When I return I hope you two younglings will have remembered that unlike you I am grown.” Then with a toss of her golden curls she left them.
“What is the matter with her of late?” Taj wondered. “All this talk of being a grown woman while we are but children. I am the Dominus, and she has no respect for my position,” he grumbled. “When she returns we shall have to have a little talk about that.” Then he smiled at his twin. “At least you understand me, but then of course you would even if we are different in so many ways.”
Marzina leaned over and kissed her brother’s cheek. “It would have been wonderful if we had both been given the gift of magic, Taj. Just think what we could have accomplished together.”
“You have the magic of two, sister,” he said. “You will work it for both of us. It is better that I am more mortal, for magic is difficult for many Terahns to accept.”
Marzina nodded, more than well aware of the truth he spoke. “It is early yet,” she remarked. “Will you play a game of Herder with me?”
“Only if you promise not to move the pieces by magic,” he told her. “I prefer to at least attempt to use my own skills to beat you.”
“Oh, very well,” Marzina agreed, and then she giggled. “Remember the first time I moved my pieces by magic. The look on your face, Taj, was priceless.”
The young Dominus laughed at the memory. She had indeed startled him, for they had just been nine at the time. “I wasn’t certain I could believe the evidence of my own eyes,” he said, still chuckling.
“Mother couldn’t believe what I had done, but Father thought it quite amusing,” Marzina recalled. Then her beautiful little face crumpled, and she began to cry. “Oh, brother, I miss our father so much!”
Taj put comforting arms about his twin. “I miss him, too, Marzi. I am too young for this responsibility that has been thrust upon me, and I do not think I shall ever be the Dominus that our father was. And poor Mother walks such a fine line so that Terah may remain safe from all predators. Yet I cannot help but wonder if her natural prejudice against Hetar’s rulers hasn’t blinded her judgment.”
“Nay, Taj, you must believe in Mother completely. She is right not to trust Hetar. Their own recent history does not speak well of their intentions,” Marzina said. She could not tell him of the miniature of the Lord High Ruler that had appeared so mysteriously upon Zagiri’s pillow. She had promised to keep her sister’s secret, but now she worried if she should have made that promise. Her older sister had suddenly changed. She had become defiant, moody and even distracted. Marzina had never seen Zagiri behave in such a manner. She wondered if anyone else had noticed the change, or if she was even imagining it. What had happened to Zagiri? Well, perhaps a few days in the company of their Terahn grandmother would calm Zagiri. The sorrow that had so suddenly overcome her vanished. With a leftover sniffle she said, “You get the game table, Taj, and I will fetch the board and the pieces.”
The twin siblings played several games of Herder, and the evening deepened into darkest night. There were no moons, for the skies had become dense and overcast. Finally Taj and Marzina admitted to one another that they were weary, each going to their bedchamber. Marzina could not help but look in on her elder sister. Zagiri was already abed and sleeping, a smile upon her beautiful face. Relieved to see her so Marzina went to her own bed.
Zagiri had just been about to enter the Dream Plain when she had heard the door to her chamber open. The faint noise had drawn her back briefly, and through slitted eyelids she had seen the anxious face of her little sister. It had caused her to smile. Then Marzina had retreated, and Zagiri had heard her footsteps as they faded down the hall. She concentrated upon gaining the Dream Plain once more.
“Zagiri, my golden girl, where are you?” Jonah’s voice called to her.
“Here I am, my lord!” Zagiri called back to him. Then the mists of the Dream Plain parted, and she saw him waiting for her. Zagiri hurried into his arms.
“Are you ready to be brave, and to come with me, my golden girl?” Jonah asked.
“I am ready!” Zagiri said eagerly. This was so exciting, she thought. She would awaken in Hetar, and she could hardly wait. Her heart was beating wildly with her anticipation. Soon she would be this powerful man’s wife.
“Are you certain, Zagiri?” he asked her. “You must be certain that you are ready to come with me. This must be of your own free will, my golden girl.”
“I am sure, my lord. I love you!” she told him. “I must be where you are!”
“Then come, Zagiri of Terah. Come with me to Hetar. Come and be my bride,” he said to her. His arms enfolded her strongly now. “Awaken now, my golden one! Awaken in Hetar!” And his lips came down on hers, crushing her mouth in a hard, fierce kiss. His body pressed against hers.
Zagiri reveled in the touch of his mouth, the feel of his body against her, but then her head began to swim. She struggled to hold on. She could hear an unfamiliar voice whispering in her ear, bidding her to let go of her reality, and join theirs. The voice was dark and sweet, but at the same time it frightened her. Briefly she drew back, and when she did she felt his lips again on hers. Feeling secure once more, she slipped into the warm darkness beckoning her. Then suddenly she saw light ahead of her. She willed herself toward it, opening her eyes to discover herself in a strange room.
“Ah, my dear, you are with us at last,” an unfamiliar female voice said to her.
Zagiri’s green eyes focused themselves. Turning her head in the direction of the voice, she saw an older woman with ebony-black hair, skin like a gardenia and black eyes rising up from a chair next to the bed where she now lay.
“I am Lady Farah, the mother of the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. You are in my house for your protection.”
“Where is my lord Jonah?” Zagiri asked the woman, attempting to sit up, but falling back when a wave of dizziness overcame her.
“Oh, my child, do not attempt to arise quite yet. You have made a great journey, and will be weakened by it,” Lady Farah advised. “My son is safe in his own bed in his own home. When you are rested I will take you to Lady Vilia so she may see you are safely with us. It is time for her to release her hold upon life. She has lingered overlong.”
“Do you not like her, lady?” Zagiri asked, having recognized a disapproving tone in Lady Farah’s voice.
“I do not dislike her,” Lady Farah replied. “But the truth is she was never good enough for my son. She was the cast-off wife of the late emperor. She seduced him when she saw he was coming into power. She held on to him by giving him a son. Now you, my child, the daughter of a great ruler, will make my son a perfect wife. You have beauty, and you have breeding. And I will be your friend. Did you know that you have blood kin in Hetar?”
“I never thought of it,” Zagiri responded, “but my mother does have half brothers, doesn’t she?”
Lady Farah smiled toothily. “I am delighted that your mother has not forgotten from whence she sprung. Aye, my dear, you have several uncles and a grandmother in Hetar. Your eldest uncle, Mikhail, sits on the High Council as representative from The Quarter. He is a most educated and respected man who represents the finest that Hetar has to offer. You will meet him soon.”
Zagiri attempted to sit up again, and this time her head swam but briefly, and then quickly cleared. “When can I see Jonah?” she asked.
Lady Farah smiled again. “How eager you are for my son,” she purred approvingly. “You will give him many children. There is where Vilia and I always agreed. Children are most valuable commodities. Here in Hetar trade and wealth are most important. When you are wed to my son your mother will, of course, want to turn over your dower portion to him. As a princess you will surely have a great value. But gracious, I am rattling on like some old woman. Let me have the servants bring you some food and Frine. Then I will take you to meet Lady Vilia.” Lady Farah stood up and hurried from the room.
Wealth was important, Jonah’s mother had said. But would her mother turn over a dower portion to a daughter who had run away, and married a man in defiance of her mother’s wishes? Zagiri was suddenly uncomfortable with the idea that her mother would disown her. What had she done in disobeying? And even if she wanted to return home to Terah how could she? What would happen to her? Would Jonah continue to love her if Lara would not provide a dower? They had never discussed a dower.
Servants came bringing her food, and sweet Frine. Zagiri found her appetite had disappeared. Lady Farah returned, and, seeing the girl picking at the food, chided her gently, and asked if she was well.
“I am excited yet weary,” Zagiri answered her not knowing what else to say. She suspected this woman who was to be her mother-in-law would be more than disappointed if there was no dower portion for a princess of Terah forthcoming.
“Of course you are,” Lady Farah said. “I can but imagine how thrilled you must be to be marrying the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. It is a great honor.”
“He should be equally honored to have a princess of Terah for his wife,” Zagiri said, deciding that she had best be firm with this woman as her mother was firm with Lady Persis. After all, she was no longer a child. She would soon be the First Lady of Hetar, and her rank was certainly higher than this woman’s in any case.
“My son tells me you are a virgin,” Lady Farah said, stung and needing to change the subject so she might regain the upper hand over this girl. “That simply will not do, my child. How can you give him pleasures when you have no idea what pleasures are all about? I shall speak to Jonah, and have you properly broken in before your wedding night. You are seventeen, are you not? I was told Terahn girls were allowed to accept lovers once they turned fourteen.”
“We are allowed to accept lovers if we want them. I never did. I wanted no man until my lord Jonah came into my life,” Zagiri said earnestly.
“Shocking!” Lady Farah said. “And your own mother did not encourage you to take pleasures? I cannot imagine what the Domina was thinking.” She tsked.
“Jonah says he wants to be the only man who knows me,” Zagiri said.
Lady Farah looked aghast but then she laughed. “You have turned my son into a romantic. How quaint. It shall pass, however, with familiarity. Still, I shall suggest to him that you be properly trained in the amatory arts sooner than later. After all, as head of the Pleasure Guild I have a reputation to uphold. I cannot have you boring my son too quickly. Well, let us get you properly dressed. Vilia is waiting.”
Silent serving women brought a selection of gowns, and Lady Farah chose a gown of soft peach color for Zagiri. The girl was dressed. Little matching slippers with gold buckles were fitted on her feet. Her golden curls were brushed out, falling over her shoulders and tumbling down her back. Lady Farah nodded her approval. A peach-colored brocade cloak lined in ivory silk was settled over her shoulders, and Jonah’s mother led the way from the bedchamber down the stairs and into the cobbled courtyard where a large gold litter awaited the women.
Zagiri’s eyes widened at the sight of the bearers. They were the tallest men she had ever seen, and they were all perfectly matched blonds. Their totally naked bodies were bronzed and oiled. The muscles of their arms and backs rippled. Their buttocks were tight. Their groins were shaved smooth, and their manhoods were neatly encased in bejeweled golden tubes of considerable length. Around their thick necks they wore collars fashioned from both gold and silver, and studded with pearls. They were barefoot.
“Get in, my child,” Lady Farah said, gently pushing Zagiri into the litter, which was padded in silk, and filled with cushions. When they were both comfortably ensconced she drew the green silk gauze curtains. “I see you like my bearers. If you like I shall arrange for you to have a similar set. They were frightfully expensive, of course, but then you are to be the First Lady of Hetar. You should have nothing but the best. My lads have other talents, as well. Would you like to try one of them?”
“For what?” Zagiri asked.
“Why, for pleasures, you silly girl!” Lady Farah exclaimed, laughing lightly.
“No, thank you,” Zagiri responded, feeling like a fool. Did everyone on Hetar behave in this fashion? “Tell me about Lady Vilia, please.”
“I don’t know why you want to know about her,” Lady Farah said. “She is my son’s past while you are his future.”
“I was taught kindness, and this woman will die shortly,” Zagiri said. “What harm is there in my knowing about my predecessor?”
Lady Farah shrugged. “She was the second wife of Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants, who afterward became Hetar’s emperor. He shed his first wife to marry her. She is of the family Ahasferus, a very prominent clan here in Hetar. She gave Gaius Prospero three children, two daughters and a son. My son was her husband’s slave, and served as his confidential secretary.”
“Slave? My Jonah was a slave? Why was that?” Zagiri demanded to know. What else were they keeping from her? She was a princess of Terah, and she could not wed a man of low birth no matter how exciting and powerful he was.
“My son is of noble birth. His father, Sir Rupert Bloodaxe, was a great Crusader Knight as was your own grandfather, John Swiftsword. But I was not Sir Rupert’s wife. His wife had given him daughters, and he wanted a son of me. I gave him that son, and he treated Jonah with love, and devotion. But he neglected to free him before he died for children born to a man’s Pleasure Woman are considered the property of their male parent. His father’s wife, in a puerile effort to revenge herself upon me for giving her husband the son she could not, took advantage of the law, and sold my son into slavery. Fortunately Gaius Prospero purchased him, and Jonah, being clever, made himself indispensable. As for Vilia, she seduced him, and made him her lover. Later when Gaius Prospero fell in love with a beautiful woman he wanted to rid himself of Vilia, but was afraid of offending the family Ahasferus. Jonah offered to wed Vilia, and revealed at that point his heritage, making him a more than suitable match for her. Of course she was delighted. Why wouldn’t she be? She could see that Jonah was meant for greatness. She has been a devoted and faithful wife to him, always putting his interests before hers. I will give her that,” Lady Farah said. “And she did manage to birth my grandson, Egon, but he is frail. You must give my son strong sons, Zagiri.”
“Of course I will give him strong sons!” Zagiri said. Now that she knew a little more about this man she was so eager to wed she would ask him about his past, and about the poor lady who would soon die. It was obvious Lady Farah didn’t like Lady Vilia, but Jonah seemed devoted to her.
The litter came to a stop, and the curtains were drawn back by a servant. The two women exited their transport, following the servant into the house.
“You are now in the Golden District where the Lord High Ruler lives,” Lady Farah told Zagiri. “This is the house where Lady Vilia has lived in her last days. She did not want to die in the palace lest it be tainted. Come along, Zagiri.” And Lady Farah hurried briskly up a flight of marble stairs to an upper hallway.
A plump young man hurried forward. “Is this she?” he asked.
“Aubin Prospero, I present to you Princess Zagiri of Terah. This is Lady Vilia’s elder son, my dear,” Lady Farah said.
“I am so sorry about your mother,” Zagiri said to Aubin Prospero.
“It isn’t your fault,” he told her. “My half brother will get her life force shortly, and be strong again. She gives her life for him. That is the kind of mother she has been. She has chosen you to be her successor. Know that I hold no ill will toward you, Princess. And you will have the loyalty of the Merchants Guild. We honor your grandfather John Swiftsword of famed memory.”
“Thank you,” Zagiri replied. She knew little of her mother’s father but that he had sold her mother in order to further his career, and he had won his place in Hetarian society with his skills.
They had reached the door of a chamber at the end of the hallway.
“Go in,” Aubin Prospero said. “She is waiting for you. Nay, not you, Lady Farah. My mother specifically asked that the princess come alone.” He opened the door to the room and ushered her through, closing the door behind her.
Zagiri walked slowly to the curtained bed where Lady Vilia lay pale and gasping. “I have come, my lady, as requested,” she said.
“Come closer, and let me see you.” Vilia beckoned with a clawlike hand. “Aah, you are even more beautiful than I imagined. You will make Jonah very happy. Now, Zagiri of Terah, you must promise me that you will take the finest care of my husband and my son, who will shortly belong to you.”
“I promise, Lady Vilia,” Zagiri said earnestly.
“Why, you love him already,” Vilia said, surprised. “That is your innocence, and loving upbringing. Tell your mother that I thank her for that.”
“Why me?” Zagiri asked softly.
“Harder times are coming to Hetar, little princess. My Jonah will need a good woman by his side advising him, supporting him, if he is to survive, if Hetar is to survive. No ordinary woman will do, and we may need Terah’s aid. With you the First Lady of Hetar, your mother and brother are more apt to help. He already cares for you, Zagiri of Terah. He has given you a title. I have never had one despite all the years I have looked after his interests.” Vilia grew very pale, and slumped deeper against her pillows. “Watch over my son, Egon. It was foretold that he would be a great conqueror one day.”
“I will!” Zagiri said.
“I will die shortly, little princess. Take that small lavender crystal bottle from the table. Catch my life’s essence quickly, and see that my little son, Egon, drinks it. Aah! My time is finished,” Vilia cried suddenly.
Zagiri gasped as the light faded slowly from the older woman’s eyes. She quickly took up the container, blinking as a thin wisp of fog seemed to stream slowly from between Vilia’s blue lips. Zagiri captured whatever it was in the bottle as she had been instructed. When no more of the substance came forth she stoppered the vessel, tucking it into the pocket of her gown. Then she ran to the door. “Someone! Quickly!”
Lady Farah hurried forward, putting an arm about Zagiri. “Quickly. You must leave this house.”
“Wait! I have something from his mother for your grandson. He must have it now. Is the boy here?” Zagiri asked anxiously.
“Aye. Very well, we shall find him.” Taking Zagiri’s hand, Lady Farah led her through the house until finally they came to a pleasant apartment where a young boy sat quietly reading.
He was very pale and slender. Looking up, he smiled as they entered the chamber. “Grandmother, how nice. Have you come to visit me?”
“Your mother has departed,” Lady Farah said without preamble. “This is Princess Zagiri. She brings you something from your mother.”
“What is it?” the boy asked. His dark eyes had grown large with the news of his mother’s death, but he did not cry.
Zagiri withdrew the crystal bottle from her pocket. “Open your mouth, little one,” she told him, and when he obeyed without question she poured the foglike substance from the vessel into his open mouth.
The boy swallowed it eagerly. “It tastes like berries,” he told them when he had finished it all up. “Leave the crystal, Zagiri, for I shall retain it as a keepsake from my mother. Thank you.”
“Now we must go!” Lady Farah said. “You cannot be seen here. Your half brother is here, Egon. Go and find him. You must send to your father now.” She practically dragged Zagiri from the chamber, through the house and to her litter. “Quickly, quickly!” she told her bearers. “We must not be here when word gets out,” she said to Zagiri. “The simple people are so superstitious. When they learn that the Lord High Ruler has taken the Domina of Terah’s daughter to wife, and she was with his dead wife when Vilia died…” She paused. “Well, you know the rumors that will arise. Especially since the common folk are not privy to certain information.”
Zagiri was surprised by what Lady Farah said. Hadn’t she been told that poor Vilia could not die until she had met the Terahn princess? Did the people of Hetar not realize that Vilia had done a noble thing in order to preserve her son’s life? That she had personally chosen Zagiri of Terah for Jonah’s new wife? Why would anyone suspect her of…of disposing of Jonah’s old wife so she might be his new one? Her mother had not wanted any marriage between Terah and Hetar.
And then Zagiri began to recall little things that her mother had said when, curious, they would ask her to tell them about her girlhood in Hetar. Lara would tell them of the riches and magnificence of the Hetar of her youth. But she would also warn them that often the most beautiful things covered up the ugliest. Hetarians are manipulative, she’d said, and Zagiri was certainly seeing it in Lady Farah. For whatever reason Vilia could not die until she had met and spoken with Zagiri. And the longer she lingered the weaker her little son became. Why was that? What dark force was at work here? It had been powerful enough to bring her from the Dream Plain to Hetar. Suddenly Zagiri was afraid.
“I want to see Jonah,” she said.
Lady Farah did not notice that the girl had become pale with fright. “He will probably come to see you tonight,” she said. “And when he does we must sit together and discuss what to do with this foolish virginity of yours, my child. Vilia has a marvelous sex slave, Doran, who will be without a mistress now. He might be of help unless, of course, Jonah wants to sell him off. We have several Pleasure Houses that now cater to women here in The City. My son could make quite a fine profit on Doran. But we shall see what he wants to do. Gracious, you have become very pale, Zagiri. I imagine being transported via the Dream Plain from Terah to Hetar must have been quite exhausting. We’re almost back to my house. You must have a nice rest when we get there. You will want to be at your best when you see Jonah tonight.” And she smiled at her young companion, but the smile, Zagiri noticed, did not quite reach to her dark eyes.
