Crown of Destiny

“It sounds very complicated,” Amren noted. “But you must teach me so I know it all, and do not embarrass my father.”

“Must? How dare you speak to me so, Amren, grandson of Magnus Hauk. In Hetar how one appears is paramount, and good manners are all-important. If you are loud and rude, Hetar will believe that all who live in Terah are the same way. Your first impression will be the most important impression you make. You cannot allow Hetar to continue their foolish fantasy of being the only civilized kingdom in our world. Still I must consider if I will educate you in the ways of Hetar. Is it even possible to do so, considering how you have been raised?”

Amren was a very handsome young man. In many ways he reminded her of Magnus Hauk with his dark blond hair and his blue eyes. But his lips were thin, and his jaw weak. Yet he had a certain charm, Lara thought, and perhaps he could be taught to represent Terah with dignity and elegance. He smiled at Lara now. “Please teach me what I must know, Grandmother,” he said.

Lara laughed aloud. “Never since any of you were born have I heard the word Grandmother directed toward me,” she said. “Come back tomorrow in the second hour after midday. I will have decided by then if I will help you.”

“Could you really turn me into a toad?” he asked her half-seriously.

Lara nodded slowly. “If I choose to,” she told him.

“The old aunts say you are evil,” Amren said.

“Narda and Anselma are a pair of dried-up old biddies. And they were the same in their youth. They know far more of evil than I do. Your aunt Sirvat was the only one among Magnus Hauk’s family who befriended me, and she is now gone.”

“My mother loves them,” Amren said.

“I am glad for them that someone does,” Lara remarked tartly. “Now, go away, boy. When you return tomorrow we shall talk again.”

“If I return,” he replied.

Lara laughed again and waved him from her. Of course the next afternoon Amren came, and for the next two months he spent time with his grandmother each afternoon learning all about Hetar. When she thought he was near to being ready, she called in the royal tailor and personally oversaw the creation of his wardrobe. The royal tailor, being a clever man, smiled and nodded in agreement with the Domina Vineeta and the Ladies Narda and Anselma when they told him what to do in regard to Amren’s clothing. Then, following Lara’s careful instructions, the tailor created a magnificent wardrobe of silks, velvets and satins, trimmed in gold and bejeweled with semiprecious stones and crystals. Shoes and boots of the finest leather, some of the shoes burnished with gold or silver. There were capes and cloaks trimmed with fur, some lined in cloth of gold or silver. His sword and the several daggers among his ambassadorial possessions had handles and hilts studded with precious jewels.

When Dominus Taj saw all his mother had done for his younger son, he felt both pleased and sad. Briefly he recalled the childhood before his father had been killed, when she had loved him, and indulged him shamelessly. He remembered warm Autumn days when she would put him before her on her horse, Dasras, and gallop across the plains of Terah into the blue skies above, so he might see their world as others could not. When his father had died she had been his strength, gently but firmly guiding him, putting his interests, and those of Terah, first. Taj now knew by virtue of his years that only his magical faerie-woman mother could have been that bighearted. He realized now that she had saved Terah far more than once, and he was ashamed of his behavior. Looking at her, he said, “I have not the words.”

“You do, and I hear them with my heart,” Lara replied softly. Then she turned to look at Amren. “He is an intelligent young man, and will serve Terah well, my son.”

Domina Vineeta sat nervously nearby with the Ladies Narda and Anselma, watching her husband and his mother.

“Which vessel is to conduct our Amren to Hetar?” Narda asked Vineeta.

“No vessel,” was the reply. “He will be accompanied by a Shadow Prince.”

Narda and Anselma both hissed their strong disapproval.

“It is practical, and swift,” Vineeta dared to say. “And he has been given two personal faerie post creatures to carry his messages back and forth.”

“And you allowed the faerie woman to corrupt your son, Vineeta?” Anselma said.

“I am astounded that after all these years of protecting your children from her you would do such a thing. Amren’s wardrobe indicates that she has already begun to corrupt him. It is obvious she ensorcelled the tailor into doing her bidding, and not following our most careful instructions. Your younger son looks Hetarian now, not Terahn.”

Lara had heard them. It had been years since she had spoken to either of her sisters-in-law, and she was surprised to find they still irritated her. “Amren is most handsome in his new garments. The richness of them gives him more value with the Hetarians with whom he must deal than if he had dressed himself in plain clothing. With Hetar it is always the first impression that is the lasting one. After all these years have you no concept of what Hetar is like?”

They had had no answer for her. Recalling it now, Lara remembered that day as if it were yesterday. Narda and Anselma were long gone of course. Magnus’s youngest sister, the Lady Sirvat, Lara’s dearest friend, was dead, too. And since her passing Lara had had no friend among the Terahns. Her mother had, some fifty years ago, sent her a serving woman, Cadi, as Lara’s longtime serving woman, Mila, had grown old, too.

Cadi was the daughter of a casual encounter between a faerie man and the strong spirit that inhabited an Aspen tree in the domain of the Hetarian Forest Lords. She had been found cradled in the aboveground roots of the tree one May morning by her father, who had been summoned by his former lover. The Aspen told the faerie man that the child was his, and he must take it as she could not raise it. He agreed, bringing the infant to his queen and begging for her aid.

Though he was a faerie of the lower castes, Ilona agreed to raise his daughter, educate her and one day put her in service with Lara. The queen of the Forest Faeries knew her daughter would need one of their own kind by her side eventually. Mortals died off much too soon. And their bodies became infirm, as well. So Cadi had come to serve her mistress when she reached the age of fourteen.

She was a delicate and slender creature with faerie green eyes that she had inherited from her father. But it was her hair that was her most interesting feature. It appeared leaflike. In summer Cadi’s head was a bright green that seemed to quiver and quake when the winds blew. In autumn her hair turned bright red and gold. By winter her head seemed nothing more than short brownish twigs that, once the spring came, began to sprout green buds that grew again into odd, flat, round pointed shapes that so resembled the leaves of the Aspen tree.

Ilona had trained the girl well. Sweet-natured, but intelligent, she served her mistress with loving kindness. And Lara was relieved to have a serving woman who understood her mistress and her magical ways, someone who could be trusted to keep Lara’s secrets. Cadi had traveled with Lara to the New Outlands to bid the friend of her youth a final farewell. It had been a poignant and difficult moment for Lara.

Word had come via faerie post that Noss was in her final days. She would not live, her daughter Mildri wrote, to see this year’s Gathering. No longer having any official duties in Terah, Lara had called to Cadi, newly come to her then, to join her. Going to the stables, they had mounted Lara’s great horse, Dasras, and together they had traveled to the New Outlands.

Seeing Lara again, Noss, now silver-haired and wrinkled, had laughed knowingly. “This journey I will take without you, Lara,” she said. “But Liam is waiting for me.”

“Do not go just yet,” Lara begged her friend. “We are only newly come.”

“Who is the girl with the odd hair who accompanies you?” Noss wanted to know.

“Her name is Cadi, and she is my new serving woman,” Lara answered.

“Come here, child.” Noss beckoned to Cadi, and when the girl knelt next to the old woman Noss chuckled. Her hand reached up to ruffle the faerie girl’s head. “She is magic,” Noss said. “’Twas past time your mother sent you someone. How difficult it must be to have us all dying about you, dearest Lara. I remember your mother saying ’twas the curse of being a faerie who loved mortals.” Noss lay back upon her pillows, and closed her eyes briefly. Then she sighed. “I know my time has come, Lara, and though I am now ancient and crippled I am still loath to leave this world. What lies beyond for us? Do you know?”

Lara shook her head. “I know no more than you, dearest Noss. They say for those good mortals, and you are surely one of them, there is another, but different world of joy, where you will be united with those you love who have gone before you. And for those wicked mortals an entirely different place of punishment exists. ’Tis all I know.”

“Will you live forever?” Noss asked.

“I don’t know,” Lara said. “My grandmother Maeve died after many hundreds of years in this world, but where she went, or if her essence disappeared entirely forever I do not know, Noss.”

“Does Ethne?” Noss wondered, referring to Lara’s spirit guardian, who lived in a crystal Lara wore about her neck.

“I never asked her,” Lara replied. “And I am not certain I am ready to, or to know the answer she might give me.” The crystal at the end of the chain about her neck glowed briefly, and Lara was certain that she heard Ethne’s tinkling laughter.

Noss gasped, for she had heard the light laughter, too. “I heard her!” she said excitedly. “I heard Ethne laugh! I did!” Noss sat up.

That and the words I now speak to you, Noss of the Fiacre, are my parting gift to you. You have loved my mistress well for lo these many years. Your friendship has been a faithful and true friendship. When you are ready, go into the light unafraid, Noss of the Fiacre, for your mate is eagerly awaiting your arrival. Have no fear of the door now opening for you. Step bravely across it, knowing you have done well in this life, and you go forth carrying many faerie blessings with you.

And Noss felt just the lightest of kisses upon her cheek. Her faded brown eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Ethne,” she managed to say. Then she turned her head to look at Lara. “My time has come,” she told her oldest and dearest friend with a sigh. “Will you remain by my side until I am gone, dearest Lara?” The old woman closed her eyes and lay back again upon her pillows.

“I will, dearest Noss,” Lara responded, taking Noss’s hand in hers. “I will not leave until you have.” And the faerie woman sat by the side of the only mortal friend remaining to her as the day waned. Finally, as the sun sank away in a blaze of reds, oranges and golds edged in pale green, a deepening blue sky above it filled with small gilt-edged purple clouds, Noss of the Fiacre, widow of Liam, lord of the clan family, stepped bravely through the open door to leave this life for the next. And as she did, Lara heard the joyous cries of welcome for Noss from those beyond that door. She smiled, and looking to Noss’s daughter, Mildri, said softly, “Your mother has left us.”

Mildri wept quietly for some minutes, and then, her mother’s daughter, she arose, saying to Lara, “You will remain for the Farewell Ceremony, of course.”

And Lara had. She and Noss had been friends since they were mere girls. They had shared slavery together. Had been reunited by the Shadow Princes. Had traveled across the plains of the old Outlands together encountering adventures Lara would never forget. She had protected Noss, who had been three years younger than Lara. And when Lara’s first husband’s cousin had fallen in love with Noss, and Noss with him, it had been Lara who had arranged their marriage. And it had been a happy marriage, producing several sons and a daughter. Noss’s destiny had been to be a wife, a mother, a Fiacre clanswoman. And while Lara’s fate had been a far different one, their friendship had never wavered. But now Noss was gone.

Remembering that day so many years ago, Lara wept again briefly. How many mortals had she lost? And now she found herself in a world that did not remember who she was, or her many accomplishments that had helped the mortals inhabiting the world of Hetar to survive and stay within the light. But something was about to happen. Something was going to change. The uneasiness she felt did not bode well. She needed to go to the oasis of Zeroun to think. To escape all the mortal emotions that surrounded her and could divert her thoughts.

“Cadi!” she called to her servant.

“We are going to Zeroun,” Cadi said as she came forward to join her mistress.

Lara laughed. “Is it that you read my thoughts now?” she said.

“Nay, I should not presume, my lady. But I know that when you get that certain look upon your face, we are going to Zeroun,” Cadi answered with a smile.

“I would ride Dasras,” Lara said. “But I will send you now to prepare my dwelling ahead of time.” With a wave of her hand Lara opened the magical golden passage saying but one word, “Zeroun!” And without another word Cadi stepped into the tunnel and hurried down the shimmering passage. The tunnel closed. Taking a white silk cape lined in soft natural-colored wool from her wardrobe, Lara draped it about her and with another wave of her hand transported herself to the stable where Dasras was housed.

The great white stallion looked up, nodding a greeting to her as Lara magicked his blanket, his saddle and bridle on. “In a hurry, are we?” Dasras asked drily as the cinch magically tightened itself about his belly. “Where are we going?”

“Zeroun,” Lara told the horse. “Your stall is dirty. Has it not been cleaned?”

“The grooms are careless now,” Dasras said. “Ever since Jason’s grandson died I have not had a personal servant.” He stamped a hoof and shook his head. “My mane has not been combed recently,” he said. “The time draws near, mistress, for us to leave this place. Terah is no longer a home to us.”

“I know,” Lara half whispered, and felt the tears springing to her eyes. Taking up a currycomb she ran it through the stallion’s thick mane, tears now falling softly. “That is why we go to Zeroun. I must think on what to do.”

“We should go to Shunnar,” Dasras responded. “You know the prince has wanted you there. He was even willing to raise up a palace for you so you might maintain your cherished independence.”

“Perhaps I should go to the Forest Kingdom of my mother,” Lara suggested.

The big stallion snorted derisively. “Nonsense,” he told her. “Besides I cannot run free in the forest with all those trees. Climb upon my back now, mistress, and let us be off to Zeroun. I am eager to take to the sky today.”

Lara did as Dasras bid her, pointing at the stable doors, which flew open allowing them to exit. The stallion burst forth from the stables into the open courtyard, gaining a certain satisfaction as the stablemen and grooms scattered, making a path for him. They were afraid of him, he knew, feeding and watering him grudgingly because they were more afraid of Lara. But his stall was not cleaned as often as it once had been, nor was he curried and combed. His great wing extended, and Dasras took to the skies.

“Do you think he’ll come back this time?” one of the stablemen asked another.

“Who knows with that wicked lot,” his companion said. “I hope they’re gone for good. But we had best clean the beast’s stall while we have the opportunity.”

Above them Dasras turned in the blue sky, setting his direction toward the Emerald Mountains.

* * *

IN HIS LIBRARY the Dominus Cadarn happened to gaze out the large window in his library and saw Dasras as he gained altitude. He squinted, then grabbed for his peering tube, setting it to his eye. As he guessed, Cadarn thought with a frown. The faerie woman who was his great-grandmother was upon the stallion’s back leaning low over the beast’s neck urging him onward. Where did she go when she disappeared from the castle? He was actually afraid to ask her, but each time she went he half hoped she would not return.

Cadarn turned away from the disquieting sight. He was expecting his uncle Amren, who had just returned from Hetar. There was a new trade agreement to be discussed. He had already seen the paperwork, and was not pleased with it. Hetar could no longer continue to take advantage of Terah as they had been doing. And it was going to be up to Amren to tell that to Hetar. The young Dominus considered it might be time to retire his uncle. Amren was elderly now. He had lived most of his life in Hetar. Of late Cadarn had begun to consider his uncle’s loyalties lay more with Hetar than with Terah. The Dominus had placed a spy in his uncle’s household. His spy believed that Terah’s ambassador was taking large bribes from the Merchants Guild and possibly from the Coastal Kings. And his uncle’s wife was a Hetarian woman from the important noble house of Ahasferus. Oddly, he could understand Amren’s duplicity, but if he could gain confirmation of it, his uncle would be replaced. He would not embarrass Terah or their family by exposing Amren’s sins, of course. As Dominus, he would simply say that his uncle was entitled to a comfortable retirement, and thank him publicly for his long and faithful service. But of course the difficulty would lie in finding another to serve who would not be corrupted too soon. He considered his own younger brother, Cadoc. Cadoc already had a wife, and his loyalties would not be torn, although eventually, Cadarn thought cynically, he could be bribed.

A knock sounded upon the library door.

“Come!” the Dominus barked, and the door opened to reveal Amren. “Ahh, uncle, come in, come in,” Cadarn invited the older man. “We have a great deal to discuss today. I do not like the new trade agreement, and so it must be renegotiated.” He smiled toothily at Amren’s obvious distress even as he waved him to a chair. “We must do better for Terah, uncle. For Terah is our first priority, isn’t it?”

Ambassador Amren smiled weakly. “Of course, of course!” he agreed.

Dominus Cadarn restrained his laughter. Aye! It was past time to replace the old fool. With or without further proof of his dishonesty, it was time for a change.

CHAPTER TWO

DASRAS FLEW OVER the Emerald Mountains, and as Lara looked down, she could see that the marble quarries gouged from the steep land were beginning to fill in again with new green growth. That was something to the good, she thought, and her spirits lifted. Clearing the mountains where the Jewel and Ore gnomes still worked their mines, they crossed the great plains of the New Outlands. Nothing had changed here. The clan families lived as they had always lived, tending their herds, their flocks and their fields. Each Autumn the clan families would all attend the Gathering, reuniting with one another briefly before returning to their own lands. There were a few more villages than before, but little else had changed. They lived by the same laws as ever.

On the edge of their lands an ocean stretched. It was called the Obscura. Until a hundred or more years ago, few had known of its existence. Now the Taubyl Traders crossed this sea to trade with the clan families. On the far side of the Obscura, the desert realm of the Shadow Princes lay. Only from the skies above were their palaces and great green valley visible. Beyond them lay Lara’s destination, the oasis of Zeroun, with its graceful palms, beautiful waterfall and crystal clear pool. Dasras’s delicate hooves touched down upon the warm golden sands, and he slowly came to a halt, his wings folding themselves away as he danced to a stop. Lara slid easily from his back.

“Send Cadi to lift the saddle from my back, mistress,” Dasras said. “I see my shelter is already waiting for me.” A striped awning was set near the water, a stall and feed boxes beneath it. The stall had fresh sweet hay within it. One of the boxes was filled with oats, the other with the mixture of green vegetables, carrots and apples that Dasras favored.

“I brought the combs and brushes,” Lara told him, pulling them from her pocket. “I will ask her to groom you, as I saw you had not been attended to in many days before we departed the castle. I will speak with the head groom about that when we return.”

“Then we are returning,” Dasras said. He did not sound pleased.

“This time, aye. Something of import is about to happen, my old friend, and instinct tells me that I need to be in Terah when it does.”

The stallion nodded his head, and then turning, trotted off to his shelter.

Cadi came forth from Lara’s beautiful turquoise-blue silk tent, standing beneath the blue-and-coral-striped awning. “You did not dally, mistress,” she said with a smile.

“Nay, I did not.” She sighed. “I needed to come to Zeroun quickly.” Turning so she might see the entire oasis, she cast a protective spell about it, making her refuge invisible to the human eye. Few ever came this way, but it was foolish to take chances. “I will swim before the prince comes,” she told Cadi, shedding her cloak and her robe. Then, walking to the clear pool, she stepped into it, smiling as the cool water rose up about her. There was something cleansing about this particular pool. Swimming to the little waterfall, she let the flowing waters pour over her head. Swimming back into the pool itself, she was amused to find Kaliq was suddenly there.

He was grinning, obviously pleased with himself, and swam to her.

Lara laughed, filled with happiness. “You always know,” she said.

“I always do,” he agreed, and taking her into his arms, kissed her a long deep kiss.

“Ahh, Kaliq, my love,” Lara said as she broke off their embrace, “the very sight of you makes me joyful, my lord.” She brushed a lock of his dark hair from his forehead.

Catching the hand she used, he brought it to his lips, and kissed the palm softly. “If I make you so happy, Lara, my love, then come and live with me in Shunnar.”

“Soon,” she promised. “I will soon, Kaliq,” Lara told him.

He was surprised by her answer, for she had always insisted her place was in Terah. “What has happened?” he asked, and taking her hand, led her from the water across the soft sand into the tent.

Cadi immediately came forward with soft white robes. She tossed the first one in Lara’s direction, and it immediately enfolded itself about her beautiful mistress. She did the same with the garment she held for Kaliq. “There are refreshments on the table, mistress, master,” she said to them. “Dasras needs my attention if you do not require my services any further.” Then with a smile she hurried from their presence.

Lara flung herself among the multicolored pillows surrounding the low ebony table. Reaching for the decanter of frine she poured them each a goblet, handing her companion one. The brass bowl that always sat upon the table was filled with fresh fruits, and Cadi had added a small plate of tiny, crisp honey cakes. Lara reached for one.

“What is the matter?” Kaliq repeated the question.

“I don’t know,” Lara told him. “But I am filled with a sudden awareness that something of great portent is about to happen. I have not felt like this at all in the last century. I suppose I have grown complacent like an ordinary mortal.”

“Have you sought for an answer?” he asked her. He, too, had been afflicted the same way as she had. Something was changing, and not necessarily for the better.

Lara shook her golden head. “Nay, my thoughts have been too confused, Kaliq. I very much needed to come here to Zeroun to clear my head and contemplate what I must do. Even Ethne has been strangely silent, my lord.” She touched the crystal star pendant that hung about her neck, and it glowed but briefly as her fingers caressed it.

“Your thoughts, I suspect, have been deliberately confounded, and until you realized it, you remained in Terah. Fortunately, you are a strong being, and came to understand that something was not right. Lara, you must not dwell among the mortals any longer. I say this not just for my sake, for our sake, but for yours,” Kaliq said. “You must be clearheaded and strong for what is coming.”