“I must soon leave Shunnar,” Lara went on. “Will you come with me? You do not have to if you feel safer here among the Shadow Princes, but I should like your company.”
“Will the giant come?” Noss asked.
“I hope so, but like you, the choice will be his,” Lara responded.
“Will it be dangerous?” Noss wanted to know.
“Probably,” Lara answered her.
“Where are you going?” Noss queried.
“I don’t know,” Lara replied. “I just know it is time for me to leave Shunnar, and both my mother and the prince were in agreement.”
“But he loves you!” Noss cried.
“Aye, he does, but he also knows my destiny is not here. In fact, he knows it far more than I certainly do. They all tell me that when I reach my destination I will know it. It’s a bit exasperating to have people speaking in such deep riddles, and hardly reassuring to those I would choose as companions,” Lara concluded.
Noss laughed, to her surprise. “I will gladly come with you. Shunnar is a place of refuge as the Shadow Princes meant it to be, but I would go mad if I had to spend the rest of my life here without you. Surely I must have a destiny, too. And now that I am capable of defending myself, I am not so afraid, dear Lara.”
“First, however, I must face Durga and Enda. They must understand that the curse cannot be lifted as my grandmother is now dead. They must know that a faerie woman will not give a child to a man she doesn’t love. They must be made to face the reality of their situation, and cease the pretense of their blood purity.”
“I’ll just wait in the next chamber while you have that conversation,” Noss said.
“Good day, my young ladies.” Master Bashkar entered the chamber where they studied each day. He set several scrolls down on the table he used. “Today, we shall learn about the Coastal Kings. They are the true aristocrats of Hetar. They are richer than the Midland Merchants, for they sail our Hetarian seas in search of adventure and wealth. They are a great tall people with blond or red hair in various shades. Their eyes are all light colored. They keep much to themselves, but it is said they are well-spoken, well-educated and clever. A most unique society indeed.”
“Have you been to the sea?” Lara asked him.
“Never!” the old man said. “But I have heard that the waters of it spread farther than the eye can see, which I find amazing.”
“With whom do they trade?” she asked him.
“Everyone! The Taubyls who carry their luxury goods across our world, the Midland Merchants, the Outlanders whom they even welcome into their palaces and villages,” Master Bashkar said. “They are certainly brave men.”
“Perhaps the Outlanders are not as bad as we have been told,” Lara suggested.
Master Bashkar looked at her strangely, then said, “They can be fierce. I hope that you never have to meet up with them but if you do, you will be prepared.” He unrolled one of the scrolls. “Now this is the land of the Coastal Kings, the only one of the four provinces of Hetar to even have a coastline. Outlanders possess the remainder of it, alas.”
“Why is the coastland so valuable?” Lara asked him.
“Because it offers an outlet to the rest of our world. Hetar is growing, my child. The population increases daily. They need new lands to house the people. New natural resources that can surely be found in the Outlands. Gold! Precious gemstones! Some in Hetar have traveled the Outlands. It is a place of great beauty, with wide grasslands and great mountains. But alas! It is controlled by the clan families of Outlanders, and the Coastal Kings protect them, refusing access by either land or sea. But the Coastal Province is the smallest of our states. One day Hetar shall have to force the Kings aside and invade the Outlands if they are to gain its land and its resources,” Master Bashkar said.
“But you are an Outlander,” Lara noted. “You would advocate this against your own people? I do not think that is right, and I am surprised, for I have thought you a most wise man, Master Bashkar.”
“No Outlander believes in loyalty except perhaps to his own clan, Lara,” he explained. “Because I wished to travel I was driven from the Devyn by my own father, who had expected me to become a great bard as he was. It was many years ago, but had not one of the Coastal Kings taken me into his care and educated me, I do not know what would have happened to me. My only loyalty is to myself, and so should your loyalty be to yourself, first and always. Now, we have strayed from our subject. The coast is responsible for most of the luxury goods made available to Hetar. While they trade with the Outlands for some of it, they do harvest the sea around them for fish and pearls. And they mine salt from the sea for all of Hetar.”
Lara half listened as the old man droned on. She did not agree with him about loyalties. Yes, she must be loyal to herself, but what of those around her whom she loved? What of Noss and Og? Poor old fellow, Lara thought. He has probably never had a peaceful moment in all his life for fear of letting his guard down. Then suddenly she felt a hand slip into hers and, looking up, her eyes met Noss’s in total understanding.
That afternoon they attended their class with Lothair. They worked with him in a large open chamber just off the valley floor. Noss practiced with her bow on an open terrace just beyond the columns, for since she was so good at it, it had been decided that it would be her only weapon except the dagger. But Noss had proved herself with the small blade, too, being agile and quick. She ceased her practice briefly to watch Lara and Lothair as they fought with blunted broadswords. Lothair was a good swordsman, but Lara had obviously inherited her father’s knack with the weapon. She blocked her opponent’s moves swiftly and easily, anticipating his every move. Lothair was grinning, obviously well pleased.
“Why do you grin like some loon?” Lara demanded, her blade slamming against his to prevent him bruising her.
“Because you have become so good at this,” he chuckled.
“I am my father’s daughter,” Lara said.
“I agree. John Swiftsword would be proud of you,” Lothair said, attempting to block, but being hindered by her faster blade. “You are, it seems, good at everything.” And he leered wickedly at her. “How sweet you were in my arms last night.”
“How could you notice? Was it not for a brief time?” she teased him.
He laughed aloud. “Aye,” he admitted. “I cannot, I fear, resist your charms.” Then he put down his sword. “It is enough for today, Lara. Practice is all I can do for you now. I have nothing more to teach you.”
“Nothing at all?” she grinned. “I am disappointed, my lord.”
He laughed again. “Put your sword down, wench, and come see what your mother has left you.” He set his own weapon aside now, and walked across the large chamber.
Curious, Lara lay her own weapon down, and joined him. The Shadow Prince reached into the corner and drew forth a beautifully carved staff of ashwood. He handed it to Lara.
“Your mother promised you this, I believe,” he said.
Lara took the staff in her two hands. She ran her hand down the smooth polished wood. She turned the rod in her hands until she was looking into the carved face on the staff. It was a long face with a long nose, a narrow mouth, and beneath that mouth a long curl of beard. The eyes in the face were closed. “Greetings, Verica,” Lara said softly.
The eyes opened, changing the face from peaceful to fierce. “Greetings, Lara!” Verica answered her back. “Your mother, Queen Ilona, has asked me to serve you. She says you now have the proper skills to use me. Therefore, I pledge you my loyalty.”
“I am grateful for it, and I thank you,” Lara replied.
Verica closed his eyes again. Lara knew the staff spirits usually slept, or at least pretended to sleep when they were not needed. She was dying to try her new staff, but she realized now was not the time.
“I have a gift for you, too,” Lothair said. Then he brought forth a beautiful scabbard containing a broadsword. “This is now yours. I had it made for you when I saw ho
w good you were becoming with the weapon.” He handed Lara the scabbard.
Taking it from him, she slowly drew the sword from the scabbard, and almost immediately heard a beautiful female voice declare in song.
“I am Andraste, and I sing of victory!”
Lothair laughed at the startled look on Lara’s face, but to her credit she did not drop the sword. “I had a victory spirit forged into the weapon,” he said. “Do you like her? She was made especially for you, to fit your hand, to be the correct weight.”
Lara examined the blade. “It’s a beautiful weapon, Lothair, but I would prefer to win based on my own skills, and not through magic.”
“Andraste cannot be carried by someone lacking in the ability to be victorious,” he explained. “Her desire for victory enhances your skills. In the hands of someone less talented she could not function, Lara.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Lara said softly. “Do all the Shadow Princes have such kind hearts?”
“It is our weakness, which is why we live as we do, isolated from the rest of Hetar,” he replied. “You will keep our secret, Lara?”
“Always!” she responded with a small smile.
“Lara, come quick!” Noss called.
Putting the broadsword back in its scabbard, Lara laid it aside and, with Lothair, went out on the terrace. Noss was pointing upwards. Looking up they saw a Desert hawk, but the bird was flying erratically. Without even a single word between them both Lothair and Lara shifted their shapes before Noss’s startled eyes. The two eagles, one slightly smaller than the other, rose up from the terrace, flying directly to the obviously injured hawk. Settling themselves on either side of the hawk, one wing each supporting the injured creature, their other wings catching the air currents in order to glide, they descended toward the terrace while Noss watched openmouthed. Touching down upon the warm tiles, the three birds immediately resumed their human shape. Prince Kaliq was bleeding from a wound to his left arm.
“What happened?” Lothair said.
“Damned Foresters!” Kaliq swore. “One of them could not resist shooting at me. They enter the Desert without our permission, and then they hunt when they know none but the Shadow Princes is allowed to hunt here. For men who adhere to their own customs so religiously, they have no difficulty in ignoring the customs of others.”
“Noss, get a basin, and some rags,” Lara said. Then she carefully examined Kaliq’s wound, and pronounced, “It is not serious, my lord. Nor is it deep. You were but grazed as the arrow passed by you.”
Noss came quickly with the water-filled basin, rags and the herbs needed to poultice the wound. She held the ewer as Lara quickly cleaned Kaliq’s injured arm. The arrow had, as she had suspected, pierced the skin but slightly as it passed its target. The hawk had obviously swerved, avoiding serious damage or death. The wound was neither deep nor dangerous, but it would be painful for a few days. She bandaged him, enclosing a packet of herbs within the cloth, and then announced, “You will live.”
“Small comfort,” he grumbled. “I saw who did it, and when he stands before me he will suffer my wrath. Now do you understand why I did not allow you to accompany me, Lara? I have much practice as the Desert hawk. You do not.”
“As I agreed with you this morning, my lord,” Lara told him gently, and then took his other arm. “Come. You must rest. The day alone has surely been tiring. You will tell us about it when you have slept and allowed the healing to begin.” She led him away.
“You and Lara turned into birds,” Noss said to Prince Lothair.
He nodded, smiling faintly.
“I did not realize she possessed faerie magic. I would expect it of you princes, but not of Lara,” Noss said.
“Did it frighten you?” he asked.
Noss thought a moment, and then she said, “Nay, but I was surprised.”
He nodded. “Will you still accompany her knowing this?” he asked.
“Of course!” Noss never hesitated in her reply. “She is my friend.”
Lothair nodded again, and then he said, “You should know that both the staff left for her by her mother and the sword I have had made for her possess spirits of great strength. The staff is Verica. The broadsword, Andraste. Will you be afraid?”
Noss thought again a long moment. “No,” she told him. “But tell me, my lord, does my bow or my dagger have a spirit?”
Lothair laughed. “Nay, little one. They are but a bow and a dagger.”
“Thank the Celestial Actuary!” Noss breathed. “Lara is used to such things, for she is partly faerie, but I am just an ordinary girl.”
Lothair laughed again, and then he said. “Not really so ordinary any longer, Noss. Now run along, and see if Lara needs your help putting my brother to bed so he may heal. He will be very difficult, for he does not like to be sick.”
“I will go at once, my lord,” Noss replied, and she set her bow and quiver aside before hurrying off.
Kaliq was surprised to find himself in a weakened condition, but Lara and Noss remained with him for two days as he healed. He was both furious and vengeful by turns. Much of his anger stemmed from the treatment Lara had received at the hands of the Forest Lords, she knew. But the insolence exhibited by the Foresters in entering the Desert realm without permission, and then attacking a Desert creature knowing it was forbidden, burned deep within the Shadow Prince. But on the third day he seemed stronger, and more himself again.
“Did you speak with Og?” he asked her.
“There was no time,” she answered him.
“Nor time to be a rock?” he said with a small smile.
“Only time to be an eagle,” she told him.
“Thank you, Lara,” he said. “Your instincts were perfect in the situation.”
She shook her head. “Looking back I am astounded at what I did, my lord. As Lothair and I rose up to help you, I thought only of one thing-bringing you safe home. He did not speak a word to me. We just acted in concert. You were in danger, and needed our help. We gave it as best we could.”
“You did well, my love,” he praised her.
“My mother left me a staff. It is called Verica. And Lothair had a broadsword made for me with a strong spirit called Andraste,” she told him. “Did you know he was making the weapon for me, Kaliq?”
“Aye, he asked my permission first, for you are my lover, Lara, and he would never offend either of us. I thought you would be pleased, and you are, I can see.”
“Do the Forest Lords know how to enter Shunnar?” Lara asked him.
“No. They must wait below in the village until we acknowledge them and have them brought to us.” And Prince Kaliq smiled a wicked smile. “How short are their tempers?”
“Very,” Lara said smiling back.
“Two days?” he inquired of her.
“Three,” she responded with a grin. “They will suffer with the heat as they wait. And if they are rude to the villagers they will suffer more. Zaki will allow no disrespect of his people, as you well know. How long before they are here?”
“Two days if they continue at the pace they were traveling. They were riding lemaxes, not horses, however. Lemaxes are used to the Desert, and travel it well, but they are not swift. Still, horses would not have survived,” he said.
“Too bad they did not travel by horse, then,” Lara muttered darkly.
“Go and find Og,” Kaliq said. “You must settle your travel arrangements soon, Lara. You will leave when this matter with the Forest Lords is settled between you.”
“So soon?” she said surprised.
He nodded. “Go, my love, and speak with the giant now.”
She left him, and finding her way through the corridors and down the staircases of the palace, arrived at Kaliq’s stables, which were located at the bottom of the cliffs opening out onto the green valley. She found Og, whom she had not seen but in passing since she had come to Shunnar over a year ago. There had never been any time, and now she felt guilty. He was brushing a small golden co
lt in a wide stall.
“Lara!” He smiled warmly at her. “You will be going soon, then. Come and sit with me here on the hay and we will visit for a while.” He pushed the colt away.
“Does everyone know this but me?” she asked him, hugging him as he bent down to greet her. “Will you come with me?”
“No,” Og said. “I am happy here at Shunnar. The prince has put me in charge of his stables now, and when I desire it, a wife will be found for me among the Desert peoples. Zaki has promised it. I am a small giant, and there are some large girls among Zaki’s people. I am respected, and earn my own living now. He says I am quite a good catch,” Og chuckled.
“I am so glad for you!” Lara told him honestly. “You go to the village then?”
“As often as I can,” Og told her. “I enjoy the company of Zaki’s people. The prince has promised when I take a wife I will have my own quarters within the palace, where I may bring a wife and raise children. For now I have been content to sleep in the loft above,” he explained. “Where will you go?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Where the wind takes me, I suppose.”
“Alone?”
“Nay, Noss is coming with me. She has become quite a good archer. I seem to have my father’s talents, and I have become fairly proficient with the staff. My mother gave me one called Verica. Prince Lothair has given me a sword, Andraste. I am not afraid as I was when we escaped the Forest, though Durga and Enda come this way even as I speak. They think to reclaim me, but we are free now, dear Og. A year and a day have passed. The law of Hetar is on our side now, not theirs,” Lara said triumphantly.
“When they learn your bloodline they will want you even more, granddaughter of Maeve,” Og answered her.
“Did you know?” Lara asked him.
“I suspected it when I learned your mother’s name,” he said, “but what good was the knowledge to either of us then? It could only have made your life worse. I learned long ago how to keep secrets, Lara. I will stand by your side when the Foresters arrive. They are dense men, but they have surely realized when I went missing, too, that we had effected our escape together. They will not want me back, for even if I do not tell them I know their secret, I know enough to shame them should I speak. They must say aloud before witnesses that I am now free, that I may live the rest of my life without fear for myself, my wife, or my children.”
Lara Page 28
