Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar

by Bertrice Small

  “The summer is at an end. Autumn will soon come, and then winter. Winter is a bad time not to have a safe place, especially here on the plains,” Bera continued. “Say you will stay, and then come the spring you will see how you feel. Noss would like to remain, wouldn’t you, my child?”

  Noss nodded with a small smile. In the few days Lara had been away with Vartan, something had changed Noss. “I love it here,” Noss said. “I have never felt more at home anywhere in my life, Lara.”

  “Then I suppose it is settled,” Lara answered her young companion with a smile. “We will remain until I am called to take the road to my destiny once again.”

  Bera chuckled. “This is good,” she said. “I have always wanted daughters.”

  The autumn was a busy time for the Fiacre. The last of the grain was harvested, gleaned and stored in stone granaries. Food animals were slaughtered, butchered and hung in a stone building where once weekly a butcher would carve portions for each family in Camdene. The men hunted deer for venison, and geese and ducks, which were hung in each house’s larder. The last of the vegetables were taken from the gardens, and stored in a cold cellar. Repairs were made to homes, barns and other buildings. The plains turned shades of gold and brown. The leaves on the trees turned red, purple, orange and gold.

  They had been with the Fiacre all summer. The days were growing shorter with each passing sunrise. Twilight seemed to come sooner, and then the cool nights. Vartan’s hall was a place of warmth and friendliness, and Lara continued to see how respected and genuinely loved the leader of the Fiacre was. She was beginning to look at him with new eyes. He was not a sophisticated man, but neither was he a simple one. Unlike the Forest Lords, he accepted his responsibilities as an honorable duty and not a privilege. She quickly learned he enjoyed teasing those of whom he was particularly fond. And he was working very hard at drawing her into the society of the Fiacre, especially his own family. Each evening they would play a game called Herder, using a wooden board and beautifully carved figures, two herders and a group of cattle. The object of the game was to gather as many cattle as one could. When all the cattle on the board were herded into a player’s designated corner, the herder with the most beasts was declared the winner.

  At first Lara did not understand the strategy of the game and Vartan, while explaining how to play, also taunted her unmercifully. But she swiftly realized his purpose was to discommode her. Comprehending his design, she began to tease him back, even as she became quite skilled at the game itself. One evening Vartan realized his pupil had become a very good player indeed. She said, “I shall trounce you quite severely tonight, my cocky lord.” And she captured the bull in his herd.

  “You cheated!” he exclaimed, surprised.

  “I don’t have to cheat with you,” Lara mocked him. “Now that I have deciphered your game plan you are easy to beat. You always play the same way, Vartan. You have no skill at intrigue, I fear.” And she laughed as she took one of his cows. “There are half a dozen ways to play this game, but you practice only one.”

  “But one way is enough if you can win,” he said as he took the last cow on the board. And then he grinned at her.

  “You each have the same number of beasts,” Bera declared as she counted, “but I think Lara must be proclaimed the winner, for she possesses the bulls from both herds. What will you have for your forfeit, my clever girl?”

  “I had not thought of it,” Lara said slowly.

  “I should have had a kiss,” Vartan chuckled.

  “Then so shall I!” Lara decided boldly and, standing, she leaned across the game board to give him a brief kiss. But Vartan quickly captured the back of her head with his hand, holding the girl firmly in his embrace until Lara was able to pull free, sputtering with outrage.

  “It will soon be time for The Gathering,” Bera announced, attempting to defuse the situation.

  “What is that?” Lara responded, still glaring at her antagonist. She wanted to strike out at him for publicly discommoding her in such a fashion, but she knew that Bera was trying to keep the peace.

  “There is a holy place out on the plain, two days’ journey from Camdene. Each year after the harvest, as many as can come from each of the clan families gather together to celebrate the year’s end, and welcome in the new year. Each clan is always represented by someone. It is the only time we come together as a single entity,” Bera explained. “The rest of the year we keep to our own boundaries, and to our own families. There is a meeting held between clan leaders then as well, and a fair where we barter goods and livestock.

  “The Blathma bring apples and pears. The Felan, sheep. The Aghy, horses, and of course we bring cattle to trade or sell. The Gitta grow vegetables we do not, but that we enjoy. And of course the Piaras and the Tormod come with their beautiful jewelry. The Devyn will be there to entertain us all, and some bargain for homes for the winter. It’s a lovely time, and then we all return home to await the winter months,” Bera concluded.

  “And matches are arranged at that time,” Noss interjected excitedly.

  “You are too young to be married,” Lara said.

  “I am not!” Noss cried. “I am almost fourteen, and Liam wants me for his wife.”

  Lara was silent for a long moment, and then sighing she said, “This is what you really want? You realize if you wed him you will have his mother in the house.”

  “Aye, it is!” Noss replied. “I am grateful to you that your sacrifice saved me from the Forest Lords. And I was content to leave Shunnar with you, and travel into the Outlands. But my destiny is here, and with Liam. I will be fourteen in spring, and I want to marry then. I am a simple girl. There is no greatness in me as there is in you, Lara.”

  “Then you shall marry, Noss,” Lara replied to her friend. “It is a very good match for a poor mercenary’s daughter from the City.”

  “I love him!” Noss declared passionately.

  Lara shrugged. She still believed there was no such thing as love but let Noss have her sweet dreams. “I am glad,” she said with a smile. “He will get a good wife in you, Noss.”

  Bera reached out to take Lara’s hand in hers. Their eyes met, and the older woman nodded. “You are doing the right thing,” she said softly.

  “I hope so,” Lara replied. “She seems so young to me.”

  “That is because your life since leaving the City has been the more difficult one. You had little choice but to leave your girlhood behind. The Forest Lords’ refusal to have Noss saved her. The Shadow Princes freed her, and protected her. Your kindness and friendship have been her salvation. Now she is where she belongs at last. My nephew is besotted with her, and will be a good husband.”

  “It seems so simple for her,” Lara said, almost sadly.

  “There is love for you if you would but have it,” Bera said pointedly.

  Lara smiled a small rueful smile. “What of my destiny?” she replied.

  “None of us can escape our destiny,” Bera said wisely. “It will find you when the time is right, Lara. Would you not be happy until then?” She arose from her place. “I am going to bed now. My bones long for the comfort of my featherbed. Good night.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Noss spoke up. She stood and, bending, kissed Lara’s cheek. “I know you love me, and want me safe,” the girl said. “I am safe with Liam. Thank you for your permission to wed him. You are the sister I never had, and I am glad for it.”

  “Go along,” Lara said almost impatiently. “And yes, we are now sisters, aren’t we? I am glad for it, too.” Thinking herself alone now, Lara stared into the flames. She had lost Og, who preferred to remain in the Desert tending to the horses belonging to the Shadow Princes. She would soon lose Noss, who was in love and wanted to be a wife. Was she meant to continue her journey alone? It was a frightening thought. But for now, at least, she would remain at Camdene. When the spring came the urge to move on would certainly rise in her again, but now the days grew shorter. The nights longer. The air colder.
It was only natural that she wanted to bide awhile with the Fiacre. She smiled to herself. She was like a beast seeking a warm nest, and going to ground for the winter.

  “I have never before seen that particular smile,” Vartan said as he came to sit by her side. “What are you thinking?” He put an arm about her waist, drawing her closer.

  “I was thinking how like a rabbit or a fox I am, looking for a winter refuge,” she told him, and he laughed.

  “So you consider my hall a winter refuge, do you?” he teased her.

  “Well, it is,” Lara replied. “I can think of none better.”

  “I can,” he said quietly.

  “Where?” she asked him.

  “My bed,” he responded.

  She stiffened briefly, but then she relaxed against him. “You want to take pleasure with me,” she said.

  “I want you for my wife,” he answered her.

  “And when my destiny calls to me again, Vartan, then what? Will you let me go? Or will you exercise your rights as my lord and master, keeping me forcibly by your side?” She turned to look up into his attractive face. Her hand caressed his cheek. “If you desire my body, my lord, then have it. I am ready to share it with you. But ask no more of me for I cannot give it to you. I must follow my destiny wherever it may lead me. Please try to understand that.”

  “I do,” he replied. “I understand far better than you think, Lara, for you are my destiny. You are she for whom I have waited my entire life, the woman I would have ride by my side in the hard days that are coming.”

  “Hard days?” Lara asked. “What do you mean?”

  “The Devyn are more than poets and minstrels. They carry news and messages between the clan territories. While the Fiacre have been involved in the harvest and planning for the Gathering, there have been Devyn in our hall. They tell me that Hetar has begun to encroach upon the lands belonging to the Piaras and the Tormod. Those lands are rich in precious metals and gems, and the Hetarians have grown greedy. They have enslaved many to toil in the mines, and open new ones. They have sent their Crusader Knights to steal these lands, and to keep order over the oppressed. When my fellow chieftains meet at the Gathering we must decide how to respond to this subtle act of war. Hetar cannot be allowed to steal what is not theirs.”

  “There has been no war between Hetar and the Outlanders for centuries,” Lara said slowly. “What can have made them do this?”

  He shrugged. “Hetar has always considered itself a perfect world, far superior to those of us in the Outlands. Their society is carefully set, and while advancement is possible, it is only so by following certain rules, as your own father did. Hetar has laws that are legal, but not necessarily just. Hetar is ruled by pride, and by the desire for profit and more profit. For the first time in the history of the Outlands we will have to band together to stop this invasion, or none of us will be safe, and our clans, our ways, will not survive. And the magical beings who share our world will have to become involved. They will not be able to help themselves, for there is power involved here as well as wealth.”

  Lara felt a shiver run down her spine. Then she said, “Come, my lord, and let me soothe you, for I can see that your concerns are very great. Let me come into your bed, and give you pleasure that you may forget these difficulties, if for only a short while.”

  “You will share your body with me because I have told you of the threat to our very way of being?” He laughed. “There is still much sweetness in you, Lara, for all you have endured.” He bent and kissed her mouth slowly, feeling her lips soften beneath his.

  “Before we taste pleasure together I must tell you that I have entrapped you, my beautiful Lara. You say you will not be my wife for you fear I will not allow you to follow your destiny. But when your destiny calls I will not prevent you from heeding that call, and I will probably ride by your side if I can, for I love you. But you are already my wife under the few laws that the Fiacre have, for you have lain with me two nights. And there are witnesses to it. My cousin Sholeh, and the headman Evin and his wife.”

  “That is not fair!” she cried. “I will not be bound to any man but one of my own choosing! I refuse to accept such a thing, my lord. It is not worthy of you. Besides, all we did was sleep next to one another. There was no pleasure taken nor given.”

  “My mother said you would be angry, but what else was I to do? You are the most difficult woman I have ever encountered, Lara. Men have used you cruelly, used you as they would have used a breeding animal, and you have accepted it. Yet I would honor you as my mate, and you scorn me.” His blue eyes were troubled.

  Lara stood abruptly. “When I escaped the Forest Lords I swore I would never again be used by any man. At Shunnar, Prince Kaliq educated me to make my own decisions. One night in his hall I willingly shared myself with all of his fellow princes, and it was glorious, for I wanted it. I belong to no one but to me, Vartan. If you would be my husband, my mate, then you must acknowledge that not just with words but by your deeds. I do not know if you can do that. For all your scorn of Hetarians, you are much like them in your need for order and discipline.”

  “I am in love with you, Lara. Whatever I must do I will do, but say you will accept your place by my side as my wife,” he said.

  She shrugged. “I wish I could feel love for you, my lord,” she told him sadly.

  “You will one day,” he told her. “I promise you that.”

  “You cannot know that,” Lara replied. “You wish it, but you cannot be certain that what you say will come into being, Vartan. I do not want to hurt you.”

  “Would you shame me before my people?” he asked quietly. “I have only resorted to trickery out of my desperation.”

  “You could have had my body if you had but asked,” Lara responded. “I am not averse to sharing pleasure with you, but I must be free. A wife cannot be free, Vartan.” She put her hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort.

  “Your body tempts me, Lara—I would be a liar if I denied it. But it is your heart I want. You say faerie women have no hearts, yet you are but half faerie. And as you have told me yourself, your mother cared so much for your human father that she would not wed again until your grandmother faded away, and as queen she needed to sire a faerie heir. I think you do have a heart, but you are fearful of giving it because you do not want to be hurt. I will never hurt you, my love. Never! And if the time comes that you feel compelled to leave me, I will release you, though it breaks my own very human heart to do so. Accept me as your mate, Lara, and know that I truly love you.”

  Something within her softened. It was a feeling such as she had never before experienced. Was it possible she could actually care for this man? And could she trust him to keep his word? She realized her hand still rested on his arm. She could feel the muscle beneath his shirt. They were strong arms. In a moment of very human weakness, she realized they were arms in which she could hide. And sometimes even she needed a safe place. With a sigh she looked up into his anxious blue eyes.

  “Very well, then. I will accept my place by your side as long as you understand that if I say I must go, then I must,” Lara replied.

  He picked her up and swung her about, his big hands meeting as they spanned her tiny waist. “I adore you!” he told her, grinning happily.

  “Put me down, you great fool. It has been months since I have known the pleasure of a manroot inside me, and I long for it, Vartan, my lord!”

  He set her upon her feet again, and taking her face between his hands, began to kiss her. His mouth was hot and eager. His kisses touched her mouth, her eyelids, her face. And Lara stood quietly enjoying them. He sat down in his big chair by the fire, loosening his garments to reveal his manroot. She looked at it admiringly, easing her gown off to stand naked before him. His eyes devoured her, and she smiled at him. Her hand reached out to touch him. He was hard, and his skin warm.

  “I have never seen a manroot so large,” Lara said, stroking the pillar of flesh. “The Forest Lords were big men, bu
t not like this.”

  “And your Shadow Princes?” He was reaching out for her.

  “Skilled, and well-made, but not like you,” Lara admitted. She bent and kissed the ruby head of it, then climbed onto his lap.

  Reaching out, he began to fondle her breasts while she caressed his manhood. He groaned as her delicate hands reached beneath him to fondle his seed sac. She gasped when he pinched her nipples, leaning forward to lick at the soft twin mounds. He unplaited her thick gilt hair and spread it about them like a curtain. Then lifting her he slowly, slowly impaled her upon his manroot until he was fully sheathed. Lara sighed deeply as their two bodies were joined so neatly and easily.

  She wrapped her slender arms about his neck whispering to him, “You fit me perfectly, my lord. More perfectly than any other.”

  “Because our bodies were created for each other,” he told her. Then he said, “You must ride me now, Lara, like the great horsewoman I know you to be. Ride me, and give us both the joy we know awaits us.”

  She began slowly, rising and falling until he was moaning with delight. Then she moved faster and faster until finally he cried out, and she felt his love juices flooding her. To her surprise, however, he remained hard and when he had recovered slightly he stood, still buried deep inside her. Lara clung to him as he walked across the hall to the high board. Laying her upon the great rectangle of the table, he took the dominant position, and she trembled with excitement. He moved as she had, slowly and deliberately at first, and then more quickly until they were both lost in a white-hot passion that when it peaked left them both weak and exhausted as his juices flooded her a second time.

  There were no words to be said. He gathered her up in his arms, and carried her to his chamber behind the hall. It was there Lara awoke several hours later to find herself in his embrace. When she attempted to slip from his arms he growled a sleepy “No!” and his arms tightened about her.