Crown of Destiny

by Bertrice Small

  “That is exactly what was written,” Coilen said.

  For a brief moment there was silence in the hall, and then old Cronan said, “It is time for the Shadow Princes to leave Hetar, my brothers. You must seek a new home. King Dillon will welcome you to Belmair until you have time to find this new home. Your valley will slowly disappear, and your palaces crumble.”

  Lara was shocked. “Why must this be, my lord?” she asked Cronan.

  He turned his gaze to her and smiled. “There was always a chance that the darkness would finally come and swallow Hetar. This happens now and again when the light simply cannot prevail, though it tries its hardest to do so, my daughter.”

  “We have beaten back the darkness before,” Lara responded.

  He nodded. “Aye, you have.”

  “We can do it again!” she insisted.

  “Not this time, Lara,” Cronan said. “If Kolgrim weds this maiden, the child they spawn will be all-powerful. Even Kolgrim will not be able to withstand him.”

  “Then we must find the girl first, and prevent her marriage to Kolgrim,” Lara said.

  “We must try,” Kaliq agreed.

  Cronan smiled a sad smile at them. Then he sighed. “Sometimes,” he said, “even goodness and light such as yours cannot overcome evil, my brother. You know this to be truth, but it does not mean we will ever stop trying.” He turned back to Lara. “My daughter, we planned your existence carefully centuries ago. Your pedigree had to be exact with faerie blood outweighing mortal. You had to be so pure of heart that your faerie magic would be stronger than any before you. You were created for a dual purpose. To cause chaos in the Dark Lands by bearing Kol twin sons, and to create a new world that might be safe from the darkness for mortals. You have performed your task so far quite magnificently, but we creatures called Shadow Princes knew long ago that Hetar would eventually be overcome by the darkness. Your magic gave them the last opportunity they had to save themselves. They have not taken it.”

  “If you knew I would not succeed,” Lara cried, “then what has been the point of all of this?” She could not quite believe what he had just said. There were many good people yet in the world of Hetar, in Terah, in the New Outlands. Still… She sighed a deep reluctant sigh. Cronan was extraordinarily wise, and not given to braggadocio.

  “Do not despair, Lara, my daughter. You yet have a destiny to fulfill,” Cronan responded in kindly tones. “Be patient. All will be revealed in its time.” The old Shadow Prince looked to Kaliq. “You know what must be done, my brother. It is time. Within the next year the magic that is light must be gone from Hetar lest it be caught in the conflagration to come.” He looked out over the Shadow Princes assembled. “Are we in agreement, my brothers?”

  “We are!” they responded with a single voice.

  “Kaliq, I would speak with you privily,” Cronan said.

  Lothair came up to where they stood. “Come, Lara,” he said quietly. “Andraste is ready for you to try once again.” He led her off before she might protest.

  “She will attempt to prevent what is written,” Cronan said quietly. “Let her. She will fail, but she must try if she is to finally accept that Hetar has written its own fate.”

  “This has all been quite a shock to her,” Kaliq said.

  “Of course it is,” the elderly Shadow Prince said. “She has come to believe over the years that her destiny was to unite all of this world beneath one banner and live in peace.” He snorted with derision then continued, “You will need every ounce of patience you possess and more to contend with her disappointment, my brother. But Lara must fulfill her appointed destiny before you may have your eternity together.”

  Kaliq laughed softly. “Aye, she will not give up her dream easily, but while stubborn her intellect is sharp. Once she is convinced herself that your words, though disturbing, are truth, she will do what she has been fated to do.”

  “And you will be with her,” Cronan nodded. “Her destiny is your destiny, too, Kaliq, but then you always suspected it, didn’t you.” He smiled at his companion.

  Kaliq smiled back. “I fell in love with her at first sight,” he admitted, “and then I knew. She is making her home here in Shunnar now.”

  “She should,” Cronan said. “What is to come is too strong and will harm her powers if she remains in the mortal world. You must tell her that, Kaliq.”

  “I will,” Kaliq promised.

  “Then I must return to my tower on Belmair. Your brothers will rest there before seeking out their new home,” Cronan said.

  “Where is that place?” Kaliq asked the ancient Shadow Prince.

  Cronan shook his head. “Even I do not know that, my brother, but I do know I will never see it. I was the third of us to come from the ether, and it will soon be time for me to move on into that other world to be reborn once again. I will not return as a creature of the Shadows. Your son, Dillon, is the last of us. His son has magic, but not our magic. Our kind is fated to disappear. But you and your brothers have centuries ahead of you before that happens. And you will spend those centuries with Lara. That I do know, Kaliq.” He arose slowly from his chair, and with a wave of his gnarled hand he opened a Golden tunnel. “We may meet again before the end of Hetar’s time, my brother,” he said. Then leaning on his staff he hobbled into the bright shimmering opening and down the tunnel until he was out of sight.

  When the glimmering vortex finally closed, Kaliq knew that Cronan had reached his destination. He sighed. Lara still had her destiny ahead of her, but bringing her to that destiny was going to prove difficult. She loved this world, and she had done so much good for it. Yet despite her bravery and sacrifices Hetar had relegated her to legend. They had not learned their lessons, and had now infected Terah and the New Outlands. Aye, there were good people among them, but even good people made bad choices. Kaliq sighed again, and then went to seek out Lara.

  She was not with Lothair now. She had left Andraste, her singing sword with him and gone down into the valley of the horses, where their herds grazed. Looking down from the balustrade of his palace’s main corridor, he saw her walking toward her old friend and companion, Og, the giant, who cared for the horses of the Shadow Princes. He might have listened to their conversation from where he stood so high above them. But Kaliq did not. Much of what was to come Lara would have to work out in her own mind, and in her own time. But he knew how very disturbed she was by Cronan’s bleak pronouncements of what was to come.

  Lara felt him watching her. Turning, she gazed up, but he was gone. She looked to the giant, calling his name. “Og!”

  Og turned with a smile. Though small for a Forest Giant, due to an unfortunate childhood of near starvation, he was still a giant. His bright red hair was fading now, but his blue eyes were as sharp as ever. “Lara!” he greeted her with a smile, and then leaning down, he offered her his hand. Lara stepped into it, and Og raised it to his shoulder, setting her down gently where she might sit comfortably and speak with him. “I hear you have finally come to live with us here in Shunnar,” Og said, sounding very pleased.

  “It was time,” Lara admitted, “and do not say past time, as so many have.”

  Og chuckled, for that was exactly what he had been about to say. “I would never even think such a thing,” he prevaricated mischievously.

  “I have come to bring you the news we have just received,” Lara said, and then she went on to explain about Kolgrim, and what Cronan had said. “Of course he is the oldest, and the wisest of the princes,” Lara admitted, “but I know we can overcome the darkness once again. And perhaps this time we must drive it from Hetar forever, even as Usi the Sorcerer was driven from Terah.”

  “I don’t know, Lara,” Og said thoughtfully. “If Cronan says Hetar is lost, then it is surely lost. The old fellow isn’t one to make mistakes.”

  “The history of Hetar is not completely written, Og,” Lara insisted. “With Kaliq’s aid I can prevent the darkness from overcoming Hetar. Have we not done it before?”<
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  “I wonder if the horses are to go,” Og considered. “Would they take me with them? I shouldn’t like to leave my horses, and what of my new helper, Lara?”

  Lara shook her head. Og was a simple man with simple needs. “If they go, you will go with them, and Leof, too. What of your family?” she asked him.

  “My wife and children are long dead, Lara. The few descendants remaining to me prefer living among my wife’s desert folk. I do not know them anymore. The princes and my horses, they are my family,” Og said. “And now I have the lad, too.” He smiled.

  “The princes would never leave their horses behind, and so it would seem they will not leave you behind, Og,” Lara told him. “But I still believe such thoughts are premature, dear friend. We will save Hetar once again, and this time forever. The darkness may come, but the light will not be driven away. Remember there must always be a balance, Og. Balance is the key. We will leave the darkness a tiny corner.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” he replied, encouraged by her assurance. “Now come and walk with me. Dasras has been awaiting your arrival. He is going to sire several more foals, Lara. He has taken at least five mares into his keeping. The other two stallions in the herd are not happy, but as he sired them they cannot complain.” Og chuckled. He walked slowly although his strides were long, and they had covered half of the valley before he finished his thoughts. “Ah, there he is.”

  “Dasras!” Lara called, having seen her horse even before Og spoke.

  The great white stallion with the creamy mane and tail raised his head, and seeing Lara perched upon Og’s shoulder, trotted over to her. “Mistress! You have come at last.” His dark eyes looked up at her. They were filled with love.

  “You do not seem to have suffered much in my absence,” Lara teased her horse.

  “As usual you have chosen a harem of beautiful mares for yourself, you old rascal.”

  Dasras whinnied and tossed his head. “If I must return to the valley of my youth, and be put out to pasture, my lady Lara, I should be comfortable, and have congenial companions,” he said.

  “Just because we have returned to Shunnar,” Lara responded, “does not mean we have retired from the world, Dasras. The darkness is on the move again, and my son, Kolgrim, threatens the peace. We will have much to do, I promise you.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Dasras replied. “When do we leave?”

  “Not quite yet, old friend,” Lara said. “You have time in which to enjoy your new wives. Where is Sakira?”

  Sakira was Dasras’s favorite mare and had borne several of his foals.

  “There, among the new ones,” Dasras said. “I have not been to the valley in so long, and she knows all the mares. She helped me choose the new ones.”

  “She loves you greatly, Dasras, that she would do so,” Lara told him. “Where is Feroz?”

  “My son is one of the two stallions remaining here in the valley,” Dasras replied with a chuckle. “He is not pleased to see me for his appetite for mares is every bit as large as mine. The other stallion I sired, Tekli, is an amiable, lazy fellow who should have really been gelded, but he is so beautiful and perfect in form that the princes kept him as he was created. His dam was a magnificent creature, and his foals are truly fine.”

  “I am pleased to see you so well acclimated again to the valley. I will leave you now. Remember that I will need you. Og will tell you when.”

  “Let me take you for a ride, mistress,” the stallion suggested.

  Lara laughed. “Very well,” she replied, leaping from Og’s sturdy shoulder onto Dasras’s broad back. As her knees clamped his sides and her hand wrapped itself about a hank of his mane, the stallion whinnied and then began to trot away from the giant.

  The trot gave way to a slow, easy canter, which then moved into a gallop. The stallion raced down the long broad valley, his hooves barely disturbing the grass beneath them. He did not unfold his wings to fly. He wanted to gallop, and he knew the woman upon his back did, too. He had heard the tension in her voice, and seen the concern upon her beautiful face when she had spoken to him. She had not told him everything, but she would eventually. For now it was just the two of them, as it had once been, galloping across a swath of green for the pure joy of it. He had heard her laugh happily as he had increased his speed from the canter to the gallop.

  KALIQ WATCHED THEM from the covered balustrade of the palace. He knew the stallion’s thoughts, and smiled. Dasras knew his mistress well and served her with skillful devotion. They were well suited, even as he and Lara were well suited.

  A year. Cronan had said. Within a year the good magic must be gone from Hetar or it would be overtaken by the darkness. Faerie posts would have to be sent out to every corner of their world warning of the chaos to come. There would be meetings to be called, decisions to be made regarding destinations. Faeries, giants, elves, gnomes and Shadow Princes all would need a new home. The magic population of this world hadn’t been disturbed in centuries. And it would be difficult, Kaliq knew, for them all to leave.

  It would be a great undertaking, and they had just enough time in which to complete it. But there could be some who sided with his beloved, and would waste time trying to save that which could not be saved. Kaliq sighed. He had hoped for a little time in which he and Lara might enjoy a peaceful existence together. Coilen would not be returning to the Dark Lands. It was too dangerous now, for Kolgrim would allow nothing to deter him from his purpose, which was to take a bride from the House of Ahasferus. A virgin with Ulla’s magic at her command. But the poor girl would have no knowledge of her power, and Kolgrim would take it from her unknowing. The girl’s single purpose, poor creature, was to give Kolgrim his only son and his heir.

  Lara was suddenly by his side again. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She smelled of sunshine, fresh air and horse.

  Kaliq wrapped his arm about her. “I watched you ride. You were happy again.”

  “Aye, ’twas like old times before this all began,” Lara replied. “It was nice to go back, my lord, if only briefly. Now we have work to do.”

  “We will not send Coilen back for it is too dangerous,” Kaliq told her. “We will simply have to wait for Kolgrim to make his first move. He must have the girl to wife, but how he obtains her is another matter.”

  “Do you think he will go to war?” Lara wondered. “He might simply kidnap her.”

  “Nay, I doubt he will go to war. It is a waste of his resources,” Kaliq replied.

  “We must know who this girl is. There are three of them, almost exactly alike. The one who is the chosen still retains her virginity. What if we tempted her with an irresistible lover, Kaliq. Most Hetarian girls take lovers once they have passed their fourteenth year. Why, I wonder, has this girl waited?”

  “It doesn’t matter why she waited,” Kaliq said, “but she has.”

  “One of mother’s faerie men could tempt her perhaps,” Lara said slowly.

  “But first we must learn which of these three girls it is,” Kaliq reminded her.

  “That is simple enough. Mother can choose three young faerie men to seduce the trio of cousins. The two who either have lovers or can be easily seduced will prove themselves not the girl in question. Once we know which of them it is, we can act,” Lara told him. “But we must move quickly, for my son will not dally now that he knows what he must do in order to assure the darkness comes.”

  BUT KOLGRIM HAD already decided how he would gain his fated bride. His army was small, for the benefit of soldiering for the Twilight Lord was more often death than anything else. He had a small standing force just large enough to prevent anyone attempting to invade his lands. He would not go to The City, an army at his back. He might steal the girl, but he did not know who she was. He needed time to ascertain that. Nay. There was another, a more skillful way, and he would employ it.

  He chuckled as he considered it. His imprisoned father would appreciate what Kolgrim was about to do, but Kol’s companion, who
was the young Twilight Lord’s twin brother, would not. Now and again Kolgrim would take his reflecting bowl to observe his sire and his sibling. Kol was a sad figure, weakened by the loss of his magic, and the decades he had spent in the windowless dank stone cell. Kolbein, however, alternated between stamping about his prison swearing as he sought a means of escape, and sitting in a corner whimpering with his frustration. Kolgrim always enjoyed seeing him thus. But when the Twilight Lord finally triumphed and brought the darkness to the world of Hetar, he would transmit that knowledge to his father via his thoughts. Kol had never done him any harm, and indeed had favored him over his twin. He deserved that small bit of happiness in his declining years.

  6

  IN THE CITY THE LORD HIGH RULER PALBEN II was enjoying the Springtime. The Icy Season had concluded, and the early flowers, all shades of yellow from the palest to the deepest, were at their most vibrant. The flowering trees in the Golden District and the Garden District were in full and glorious bloom, their shades of pink, peach and white perfuming the air. The skies were a clear bright blue each day, and the sun warm upon his back. The breeze from the south was soothing.

  Lord High Ruler Palben was a tall, slender man in his middle fifties with dark eyes and hair. He knew from the portrait that hung in the royal palace that he very much resembled his grandfather, Jonah, who had been Lord High Ruler some eighty years ago.

  By rights Palben should not have been Hetar’s Lord High Ruler. His grandfather, Jonah, had a son, Egon, from a first marriage. Egon, it had been predicted, would be a great soldier, but in the last war he had been too young to either fight or lead. And there had been no more wars. Egon turned to the pursuit of knowledge. It consumed him to the point of neglecting everything else. While he was a frequent visitor to the Pleasure Houses, he did not marry, nor did he produce any progeny. Hence, it was Egon’s half brother, Palben I, who had inherited the throne of the Lord High Ruler when Jonah died.