The Sorceress of Belmair

by Bertrice Small

  Her hand caressed his nape slowly. She would have sworn she could sense his rising excitement through her fingertips. Pulling his head down, she kissed him.

  “I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “And I have not yet said thank-you for rescuing me. I thought there was no hope for me, and my heart had turned to stone within my chest, Dillon. But you came for me, and I am alive once more. Thank you.”

  “You are my life,” he told her. “From the moment I laid eyes upon you, Cinnia, you had my heart. I want no other wife, no other love. Together we are complete. Apart we are lost souls. I love you.” Now it was he who kissed her.

  It was a slow, hot kiss that left her feeling weak, and Cinnia sighed, closing her eyes. They were both delightfully naked, and the sensation of his skin upon hers was wonderful. She pulled him closer, shifting beneath him as she both felt and sensed his rising desire. This, Cinnia realized, was the tender passion she needed right now. When he entered her in a smooth glide of hard, throbbing flesh, she cried out softly with her happiness, wrapping herself about him. Together as they rocked back and forth in each other’s arms, they shared the deep love they realized was meant to be theirs.

  He loved her so much that Dillon found it difficult to control his own nature. He desperately wanted to give her a child, but the war between Belmair and Ahura Mazda had only just begun. And the Yafir lord was a dangerous man who would obviously stop at nothing to gain his goal of total domination of Belmair. If Cinnia had a child then that child was at risk. He willed the life from his juices as they burst forth. And afterward he cradled her within the shelter of his arms while she slept, and he continued to consider what lay ahead for them all, for Belmair.

  The war with Ahura Mazda, he realized he had thought. Not the war with the Yafir. He didn’t want to battle the Yafir. Dillon knew all too well the brutality and futility of war. He had lived through two wars in his youth, and he did not want to subject the peaceful Belmairans to such tragedy. But then he realized that the Yafir were no more warlike than the people of Belmair. The battle was to be fought within the magic realm, but it could still prove dangerous.

  Dillon smiled to himself. The Yafir lord had been so long removed from the reality of the world that he had no idea how powerful Belmair’s king really was. And he did not fight in a traditional manner. Rules were all important in the magic realm, but Ahura Mazda appeared to care little for such niceties. His attacks, so sudden and harassing, were always unexpected. It was difficult to anticipate what he would do, and where he would strike next. He voiced these concerns the next day to Kaliq, Lara and Nidhug, who gathered together in the king’s library.

  “He is erratic in his behavior,” Dillon said to them. “But I have come to realize it isn’t the Yafir we must contain. It is their wild lord.”

  “Is he the one who made the decision to remain hidden in Belmair?” Lara wanted to know. “Is he that ancient?”

  “It was he was lord then, Cinnia tells me. He had only been lord for fifty years,” Dillon replied to her query.

  “But he has grown up with a sense of persecution and isolation,” Kaliq mused. “And it would seem he has a great need to revenge himself upon Belmair for what he perceives as the wrongs done to his people. But Belmair is not totally at fault in this matter. For centuries the Yafir have been the outcasts of the magical realm, wandering from place to place to place until finally they disappeared. It has been believed that they became extinct. Why no one considered they might have gone into hiding is interesting.”

  “Why have they been so despised among the magical folk?” Dillon asked.

  “No one knows or can remember the reason,” Kaliq answered. “Throughout time there have been peoples in all the worlds shunned, scorned, reviled over the centuries. But when asked why such a thing should be, no one really knows. The answer from a Belmairan would be because they are Yafir.”

  “It makes little sense, Dillon,” Lara said to him. “But when I was growing up I was ofttimes shunned because I was believed to be half-faerie. My mortal grandmother worked very diligently to make a completely mortal girl of me. She was a loving woman, but she knew the peril of being different for she had eyes to see.”

  “I wonder what she would think of you now,” Dillon said with a smile.

  Lara laughed. “I am not so certain that she would be horrified at the life I have led, the heights I have attained and the magic I wield.”

  “What do you want to do with the Yafir?” Kaliq asked, bringing them back to the problem at hand.

  “The problem isn’t so much with them as it is with Ahura Mazda. Because he has been successful at snatching women away and building his little kingdom beneath the sea, he believes he is invincible, but he is not. We are aware that I could easily destroy him now that I know where he hides himself. Still I am no fool, and in the end I will probably have no other choice in the matter. But I would win over the Yafir before I must meet that challenge. I do not wish to alienate them and continue the cycle of distrust and hate. I wish to bring them back into our Belmairan society.”

  “They call themselves Yafir, but the truth is that many of them are of such mixed blood now that they are as much Belmairan as Yafir,” Lara noted. “Perhaps all citizens of Belmair, no matter their heritage, should be simply Belmairan. Although this world has four provinces, it is referred to as Belmair, and its people as Belmairans. Should this not also apply to those who are of Yafir descent?”

  “I am proud of my heritage, and of the world into which I was born,” Dillon said. “But I am now Belmair’s king, and consider myself Belmairan, not Hetarian or Terahn. If you live in a world, are part of that world, then you should call yourself by that world’s name no matter your heritage,” he concluded.

  “It would appear that removing Ahura Mazda from his lordship will be a necessity,” Kaliq said. “But if you would remove a leader you had best have another waiting or you create a vacuum, which usually provides an opportunity for troublemakers, and it is certain that there will be several of those among the Yafir.”

  “You should ask Cinnia what, if anything, she may have heard during her stay with the Yafir,” Lara suggested to them.

  The young queen was called, and came to join them. They told her of their discussion, and asked if she knew anything that might help them reach out to the Yafir.

  “Ahura Mazda’s first wife, Arlais, has several sons. I do not believe that they are embittered despite their father’s emotions. Arlais is a reasonable woman. If I wanted to reach out to the Yafir, I would speak with her before I spoke with anyone else. She will listen to you. She will be truthful. But she will never betray her lord husband. She loves him, you see,” Cinnia explained.

  “We can reach out to her on the Dream Plain,” Dillon said. “I can tell her that I genuinely seek peace, and offer her people a home above the waves once again.”

  “No, my lord, ’tis I who should go,” Cinnia said quietly. “She knows me, and will not be afraid of coming to my call.”

  “But then she will realize that Sapphira is not you,” Dillon said.

  “Arlais will not tell Ahura Mazda that you outmagicked him in order to retrieve me,” Cinnia responded. “And besides if such a thing became publicly known the Yafir lord would be a laughingstock. She would not do that to him. Besides there is the chance that Sapphira carries a female child.”

  “Would not a female child make Sapphira supreme to Arlais?” Lara asked.

  “He w
ould never put Sapphira or a daughter before Arlais’s devotion and loyalty,” Cinnia told them. “That is the paradox of this man. He loves his women despite his ambition and his bitterness.”

  “Then I think Cinnia should be the one to approach Arlais,” Kaliq said.

  “So be it,” Dillon said.

  “When shall I do it, my lord?” Cinnia asked them.

  “Will she be safe upon the Dream Plain?” Nidhug wanted to know. She had been silent for most of the meeting, listening, evaluating carefully all that was said.

  “She will be more than safe for she carries the protection of the king of Belmair, a Shadow Prince and a great faerie woman,” Dillon said with a smile. “Do not fret, Nidhug. I swore when I regained my wife that never again would I allow anyone or anything to harm her. I will keep that vow.”

  “We will wait until evening,” Kaliq said. “I think a first visit to the Dream Plain should begin in an ordinary manner, like any evening’s preparation for sleep.” He took Cinnia’s hand, and looked into her face. “You will not be afraid, my daughter, I promise you. About your neck you will wear a medallion of the tree of life. It will protect you in addition to all Dillon, Lara and I will do. Do you believe me, Cinnia?”

  “I do!” Cinnia replied, quite surprised by the effect his words and his beautiful penetrating eyes had upon her.

  The discussion regarding the problem of the Yafir lord was now over. Dillon and Cinnia went to bid their many guests farewell as they departed to return to the four corners of Belmair. Cinnia was very relieved to see Duke Tullio and his sister, Margisia, depart. She couldn’t help but harbor a small guilty feeling for the deception that had been played upon them, and she was frankly uncomfortable in their presence although she masked those emotions well.

  “You have made us, made Beldane proud,” Duke Tullio said as he bade farewell. He took her by her shoulders, and kissed both of her cheeks. “Be happy, my child,” he told her. Then he made a formal bow. “I salute you, queen of Belmair.”

  “Thank you, my lord uncle,” Cinnia replied. “I am content to have pleased you, and brought honor to Beldane.”

  Margisia enveloped Cinnia in a hug. “I am so proud of you, my darling,” she gushed. Then she lowered her voice. “I knew you could do it. Old Dreng is fit to be tied. He’s already gone,” she giggled. “Now, remember what I have taught you. Gather up as much wealth for yourself as possible. And when you want something special that your husband may not be of a mind to give you, withhold yourself from him while teasing him just enough so he believes you are not. But do not give him your body until you get your way, Sapphira. I hope you garnered a great deal when he forced you to change your name. I know you would have never done it otherwise,” she nattered on.

  “And do not ruin your figure by bearing him more than one child. Son or daughter, it makes no mind. I would not give your father more than one. A woman’s body is destroyed with childbearing, and when it is you will find your husband runs off to a younger woman whose body has not been ravaged and stretched with new life. Men can be so cruel, my darling Sapphira. Remember that you are the only one who will look after you. Trust no other.” Then Margisia began to weep. “Oh, my darling daughter! To think I shall never see you again! Oh, I cannot bear it! I cannot!”

  “Certainly you will come to visit, Sister,” the duke said impatiently. “Now let us take our leave. Our vessel awaits us.” Grasping Margisia’s upper arm he led her to her horse, and helped to boost her into the saddle.

  “Goodbye,” Cinnia said. “Travel in safety.” She was more than relieved to have Sapphira’s mother gone. What a wretched woman. No wonder her daughter had turned out the way she had. Cinnia waved, and tried to look sad.

  By late afternoon all the wedding guests were gone. Cinnia spent some time with Dillon’s three younger sisters, the oldest of whom was close to her own age. Anoush, daughter of Lara and Vartan of the Fiacre, was a beautiful girl with brown hair and blue eyes. There was a fragility about her partly due to her faerie blood. She was a quiet girl given only to speaking when she had something to say. She was looking forward to returning to Hetar, for she spent her summers in the New Outlands region of Terah with her foster mother, Noss.

  “I need to be with my father’s people for at least part of the year,” she explained to Cinnia. “It renews my spirit, and I do not as often see my visions there as I do in other places. I do not like my gift, but I accept it. Sometimes I wish my blood ran only mortal.”

  “Yet I owe you a great debt for directing Dillon in the right path so he was able to find me,” Cinnia said to the girl.

  Anoush smiled sweetly. “That is the best part of my gift. When I am able to help. I am most grateful for my ability to heal, and do not regret that gift at all.”

  Zagiri, Dillon’s middle sister, was a delightful girl with her father’s golden looks. She was pure mortal with not an ounce of magic about her. She looked forward to the day when she would find her true love, and marry. “I love my mother,” she told Cinnia, “but she has a destiny that has only been partly fulfilled. One day she is certain to go away again as she has done before. It’s a good thing I’m nothing like her, and can be here to look after my father and little sister. My father says mother is an amazing and great woman. I suppose she is, but I am glad my faerie blood is dormant. I don’t want to be like Anoush, who is so fragile, or Marzina, who already seems to know too much. I just want a husband to love and children to raise. My grandmother, the lady Persis, is teaching me how to cook. She says a husband will appreciate that I can feed him well if our cook falls ill. She says every girl should know how to cook. Anoush can only cook her potions. And Marzina doesn’t want to learn,” Zagiri concluded.

  It was her littlest sister-in-law who delighted Cinnia, however. Marzina was a true faerie child. Dark haired with large violet eyes, she was quick of mind and foot. She was also friendly, impatient and imperious, sometimes all at once. And from the moment she had successfully pronounced her first spell at the wedding feast the previous day, she had become her faerie grandmother’s pet, which pleased her well.

  “You are a little sorceress,” she told Cinnia. “But one day I shall be a great sorceress. My grandmother says it will be.”

  “Well, your brother has promised he will teach me more,” Cinnia said.

  “What can you do now?” Marzina asked.

  “I do potions, and I can shape-shift,” Cinnia said.

  “Shape-shifting is easy,” Marzina said scornfully. Anizram, change! And suddenly a small green-and-violet bird was fluttering before Cinnia’s face.

  Ainnic, change! A tiger cub leaped up to catch the bird between its soft paws.

  The bird turned into a bright yellow-and-green butterfly escaping the tiger cub’s gentle grip. The tiger then turned into a net that trapped the butterfly. At once the butterfly became a pair of scissors and the net quickly shifted into a beautiful jewel.

  Marzina change!

  Cinnia change!

  And both the young woman and the girl returned to their own natural forms. Both were laughing.

  “You are very good!” Marzina said admiringly. “You shifted quickly enough to counter me. Can we play this game again sometime?” she asked, smiling.

  “You are amazing for one so young,” Cinnia told her. “I couldn’t shape-shift properly until I was twelve.”

  “We shall become great sorceresses together,” Marzina declared.

  She had gained a family, Cinnia though
t happily. She had never known her mother, who had died shortly after her birth. Her father while kind was still a distant man whose sole concern was for Belmair. Nidhug had been her only family, and the dragon had raised the girl as tenderly as if she had been her own child. Now suddenly Cinnia had three sisters, each of whom was different, yet interesting. She had a mother-in-law, a faerie grandmother, an uncle who was a faerie prince and a Shadow Prince for a father-in-law. And she had still to meet Lara’s husband, and Dillon’s little brother.

  Cinnia realized how truly happy she was. She knew now that had Dillon not been brought to Belmair to be its king, to be her husband, her world would be a very different place. Had she gained her heart’s desire and been selected as Belmair’s reigning queen she would have never been able to stop Ahura Mazda. But now she had a strong husband, a family, who would stand by her side in the battle ahead.

  “Will you all stay with me when I enter the Dream Plain?” she asked them that evening after the meal. “All of you, Anoush, Zagiri, Marzina, too, unless you will not allow it, Lara. I would find it comforting to know I was surrounded by loved ones.”

  “I do not know if Marzina is old enough for such an experience,” Lara mused.

  “Oh, please, let her,” Cinnia begged. “Her magic, while untutored, is already strong. Unless it would frighten her.”

  “Please, Mama!”

  “I think it would be an excellent experience for her,” Ilona, who had not departed the previous night after all, said.

  Lara pretended to consider, and then she said, “Yes!” She turned to her two other daughters. “Girls?” she asked.

  “I would rather not,” Zagiri responded. “Magic makes me uncomfortable, Mama. And Belmair seems to reek of magic, or perhaps it is just because you, Kaliq, Dillon and Grandma are all here at once. Please do not be offended, Cinnia,” she said, turning to the older girl with a small smile of apology.