The Shadow Queen (3 page)

“Kaliq said that everything has happened as it should,” Taj told his mother. “He said my father’s fate and mine were decided upon the day we were born.”

“Did he?” Lara sighed. “I suppose he is right. He is always right, damn him!”

“Will he help us, Mother?” Taj wanted to know.

“If we need him,” she replied.

“Does my grandmother Ilona know of my father’s death?” the boy asked.

“Aye. While you were gone I went to her,” Lara responded. She did not tell her son that her mother, the Queen of the Forest Faeries, had been less than sympathetic.

“Sooner or later your mortal would have died,” Ilona said sanguinely. “Better it happen now than you be forced to see him become old, and as white-haired and grizzled as his own mother is. You have had your children by the men you have loved, Lara. Now for goodness’ sake embrace your faerie heritage fully, and take no more husbands. Lovers are far more satisfactory, and so easily discarded. A husband is generally nothing more than an encumbrance.”

“Is that what you think of Thanos?” Lara asked of her stepfather.

Ilona’s laughter tinkled gaily as she tossed her pale golden hair, and her green eyes twinkled. “Gracious no! Thanos is the perfect husband. He sired a son and heir upon me, and then found an interest that keeps him away from me most of the time. And bless him, he takes lovers to feed his appetite for passion. But unless you wed a man of the magical realm you would not have such latitude. So better you just take lovers from now on, my daughter.”

“Try to be respectful when you come to the Farewell Ceremony, Mother,” Lara had said dryly. “If not for my sake, for Taj’s.”

“Oh never fear, I shall be properly mournful. Magnus Hauk was, after all, a good mortal, and he loved you completely even overlooking your time with Kol, the Twilight Lord,” Ilona said.

Lara had departed her mother’s home at that. Now she looked at her young son. “Your grandmother Ilona was shocked by the accident, and she will be here for the Farewell Ceremony, Taj,” Lara told her son.

The boy nodded. “I am weary,” he told her.

“Go and eat, and then sleep,” Lara said to him. “I will see you in the morning, my darling. While it is my duty to make all the preparations for the Farewell Ceremony, I should appreciate you being by my side, and approving my actions.” Lara put an arm about her son and kissed him softly on his cheek. “Good night, my dearest Taj.”

The boy hugged her hard. “Good night, Mother,” he said and then left her.

Alone. She was alone. How long had Magnus Hauk been dead now? Ten hours? Eleven? Lara felt the tears come again. She had been wed almost twenty years to Magnus Hauk. Her life had become a comfortable round of seasons that had blended into one year, and then another, and another. She had never been bored, and while she waited for the destiny foretold for her to unfold she had been happy. She had been content in his arms, and in this life. Oh, there had been an occasional adventure. But Magnus Hauk was always there waiting when the adventure was over. But now she was alone. Lara sank down upon their bed, and wept bitterly once more.

* * *

K
ALIQ
WATCHED
HER
from the shadows, and fought back his urge to go to her. To take her into his arms and comfort her. But now was not the time. She needed to vent her grief in this lonely privacy, and then reach deep down into the well of strength he knew she possessed. She would need to be strong for her son. She would need to be strong to convince Magnus Hauk’s family and the religious community of Terah that her late husband’s wishes must be followed at all costs. She was the only one who could aid the young Dominus so that when the danger came he would be strong enough to withstand it.

Still her weeping clawed at his heart. It was rare that a Shadow Prince fell deeply in love, but Kaliq of the Shadows did love the faerie woman, Lara, with every fiber of his being. He had for years. She was his single vulnerability. He wished he might transport them immediately to his desert palace of Shunnar to console her, but, cloaked in his invisibility, he instead stepped near to the bed where she now lay sobbing with her grief. Moving his hand gently above her body from her head to her toes, he set her into a deep and dreamless sleep. Her sadness would not abate, but at least come the morning she would awaken rested, able to face the responsibilities that were now hers.

Her body relaxed. The pitiful sounds of her mourning suddenly ceased. Her breathing grew regular and even. Kaliq smiled to himself as he stood next to Lara’s bed watching her sleep. He considered what would happen next. Hetar, of course, would be involved somehow once word of Magnus Hauk’s death reached them, but how quickly he was not certain. He had already set a watch to see if any among the tiny faerie post folk was a spy, for he was certain there would be one or two subverted by Hetar’s rulers.

Kaliq frowned thinking of Hetar. They had been making great strides toward the equality of its citizenry until recently. The two Shadow Princes currently serving on the High Council had reported that something was disturbing the rhythm of Hetar’s being of late. They had not yet been able to pinpoint it, but they were listening. Still, even unsubstantiated rumors had been scarce. A sure sign that something wicked was being brewed, Kaliq thought. He would speak with Lara soon about this latest development. Neither Terah nor the young Dominus needed to be dragged into Hetar’s problems whatever they turned out to be. The great Shadow Prince bent and kissed Lara’s cheek as she lay on her side, her pale golden hair tousled and spread across the pillows.
Sleep well, my love,
he told her in the silent language of magical folk. Then he was quickly gone from the chamber.

When the morning came Lara awoke. Her heart ached. With a sigh she encased it in ice. She could show no weakness now. She was faerie, and yet magic had little to do with what she was about to undertake. She arose from her bed feeling well rested, to her surprise. She had dreamed no dreams in the night. Indeed nothing had disturbed her slumbers despite her great grief. How had that happened? And then she smiled to herself. Kaliq, bless him! She had sensed him as she wept for Magnus Hauk, but had not wanted his company. He had understood, of course, and had not intruded upon her physically. But he had, she was certain, given her the gift of restful sleep and Lara was grateful to him for it.

“Mila,” Lara called to her serving woman. “I am ready to bathe.”

Mila appeared looking properly somber. “They are ready for you, Domina. Shall I lay out your garments?”

“Aye. Does everyone in the castle have purple mourning bands for their arms?” Lara wanted to know.

“Aye, Domina, and there are enough for any who come,” Mila informed her lady.

Lara nodded, and then went to her private bath. The serving women were silent, and she was glad. She was not quite ready to deal with anyone else’s sorrow but her own. But the moment she left her own apartments it would be a different matter. When she had completed her ablutions, she returned to her bedchamber and got dressed. Mila had laid out a pale lilac-colored gown trimmed at its round neck, and the cuffs of its round sleeves with an embroidered band of gold threads and tiny violet crystals. The serving woman fastened the deep purple mourning band about her mistress’s upper right arm as Lara slipped her feet into her flat-soled lilac kidskin slippers. Sitting, she let Mila brush her long hair, and then weave it into a thick single plait. Then, standing again, she left her apartment, hurrying to the small family dining chamber where she discovered her five children and her daughter-in-law awaiting her.

“Dillon! Cinnia!” she exclaimed with genuine delight.

Dillon immediately enfolded his mother into his embrace and kissed her cheek. “Are you all right?” he asked tenderly. “This has to have been a terrible shock for you, Mother. I am so sorry. Magnus was a good stepfather to me. We came as soon as Kaliq came to tell us. He says that Grandmother and Cirillo will be here later today.”

Lara felt a brief moment of weakness, but then she returned her son’s kiss. “My faerie heart has turned to ice, Dillon,” she told him. “I cannot believe any of this although I know it is true. Yes, it has been an awful shock.”

“Tell me what happened?” he said gently.

And she told him quietly, dispassionately, of how Magnus Hauk had died.

Dillon said nothing. He just nodded.

“Magnus made them all swear as he lay dying that they would honor my rule,” Lara told her firstborn. “It shall, of course, appear as if Taj is ruling for you know how the Terahns are about women. I do not wish to change their customs, but Magnus knew what would happen if he ordered a regency.”

Dillon laughed briefly. “Aye,” he agreed. “But how will you placate those who see themselves grasping the reins of Terahn power?”

“I intend forming a special group of advisors for the new Dominus,” Lara said. “It is possible some of them may have good ideas, but of course the last word, the final decision, is that of the Dominus.”

“Clever,” Dillon agreed, “but how will they take to having a woman overruling them, Mother?”

“I will remain as much in the background as possible. Marzina says I will be a Shadow Queen. It must appear publicly as if Taj is in firm control of Terah at all times,” Lara explained. “And eventually the council of advisors will actually forget I am even there which is what I want. Magnus’s elder sisters will, of course, want their husbands involved. And I want Corrado. I think it is better to keep this group small and manageable, don’t you? No one but the Dominus’s three uncles.”

“Agreed!” her eldest said. “Will you tell Tostig and Armen the truth?”

“Aye, I will. Whether they tell their wives is, of course, up to them,” Lara said with a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes. “Now if you are through questioning me let us sit down and eat. We have a busy day ahead of us. I must have everything done by the morrow, for it will be my duty to sit at the foot of Magnus’s bier and accept the condolences of all who come until the burning vessel upon which he will take his final voyage is sent off to the sea.” She turned to her daughter-in-law. “Thank you for coming, Cinnia.” Then she looked to her own daughters, and gave them a small smile. “We are together, my daughters, and that is all that is important for now. Taj, take your place at the head of the family table. You are not just the Dominus of Terah now. You are also the master of this household. I will sit in my usual place opposite the Dominus until the day he takes a bride. You, Dillon, will be at your half brother’s right hand.”

“And I will sit at my twin’s left hand,” Marzina spoke up before her mother might say another word.

“You are the youngest of us all,” Zagiri noted, but she did not complain.

“We all share blood,” Marzina replied, “but I share with Taj what none of you shared with him. I shared our mother’s womb.”

“Sit in your place, Marzina,” Lara instructed her daughter quietly. “Anoush and Zagiri, sit on either side of me, and Cinnia will sit next to her husband. Now let us thank the Great Creator for Magnus Hauk, and the time we had with him, and the wonderful memories we share. Let us thank him that we are all together,” Lara said, and everyone in the chamber including the servants bowed their heads.

CHAPTER TWO

M
AGNUS
H
AUK
’
S
TWO
older sisters arrived at the castle of the Dominus within moments of each other. Their ships raced each other up the fjord, beneath the morning sunshine, Narda’s vessel reaching the stone dock but a moment before Aselma’s.

“It is as it should be,” Narda told Tostig. “I am, after all, the eldest of our mother’s children.” She walked regally down the gangway onto the pier. “Hurry! I want to get to the lift before my sister does.” Narda attempted to appear as if she were just strolling toward her destination. Tostig had to take large steps to keep up with her.

The Dominus’s castle was built into and above the great cliffs that bordered the fjord. Of dark stone, it was surprisingly graceful and beautiful for such a large structure. Its tower peaks of gray slate soared high into the bright blue sky. Greenery trailed over, and grew up along its terrace walls behind which were beautiful gardens. At the end of the quay was an entrance into the cliffs.

“Look at her! Pretending she isn’t practically running so she can reach our nephew before we do,” Aselma grumbled to Armen as their own ship was tied fast. “Can they not hurry with that damned gangway?”

Armen hid his smile, for it wouldn’t do to have his wife throw a temper tantrum now. She and her sister might scheme all they wanted. What was going to happen next had already been set into motion. He was as shocked as everyone was at the sudden and certainly unexpected death of his brother-in-law, but he instinctively knew that the reins of power in Terah were not meant to rest in either his or Tostig’s hands. Silently he followed his wife down onto the stone pier and walked toward the castle.

Aselma and Armen walked quickly through the entry but the wooden gate to the lift was closed. They could see the bare hairy legs of the Mountain Giant drawing the wooden platform up to the castle. They could see the bottom of the platform, and Aselma’s sharp ears could hear her sister’s voice as the lift rose higher.

“You could have waited for us!” she shouted, tilting her head up.

Narda’s head looked down over the platform’s rail. “Is that you, Aselma?” she called out in a deceptively sweet voice. “I didn’t realize you were that close behind us. It seemed to me your vessel was still in the middle of the fjord when we disembarked. I’ll meet you in the family hall, dear.”

“Old cow!” Aselma muttered.

Above them the lift came to a stop, and then it was quickly lowered again. Aselma and her husband stepped onto the platform, which was raised once again to the correct level of the castle. The couple exited into the brightly lit corridor, following it to the family hall. Entering, they found Narda sobbing in her mother’s arms. Not to be outdone in her grief Aselma screamed, and ran to her parent weeping. Tostig and Armen shook hands, and would have stepped into the background but that Lara, coming into the chamber, beckoned them from it.

In the corridor again she greeted them cordially. “Please come with me, my lords. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

They followed her down another hallway and into a beautiful library with tall arched windows looking out over the fjord. There they found their other brother-in-law, Corrado, Sirvat and the young Dominus awaiting. They greeted one another. Both Tostig and Armen noted that their sister-in-law looked drawn with her grief. Lara was, it seemed to them, as beautiful as ever. Her faerie green eyes, however, were swollen with her sorrow.

“My lords,” she said to them, “I have asked you here because you should know what my husband’s dying wishes were. Corrado, Sirvat, Lady Persis and my son can attest to the truth of my words.”

“We should never doubt your word, lady,” Tostig said.

Lara smiled. “Thank you, my brother, but Magnus has done something that will shock you. He named me regent for our son.”

To her surprise Armen chuckled. “Shocking by Terahn custom, I will agree, but knowing you both it is not so unexpected.” Tostig nodded in agreement.

Lara nodded, amused. Armen was a far cleverer fellow than he was given credit for by those who knew him. “Taj is certainly too young and inexperienced to rule Terah, my lords, as he will tell you himself. But Terah must believe that he is in full charge, counseled by wise advisors. While I will rule Terah from behind my son’s throne, I am asking the Dominus’s three uncles to serve as the Dominus’s Council. You understand that my word is the final word in all matters, but for the sake of continued tranquility in Terah this will not be public knowledge. I’m sure that both Narda and Aselma will be pleased at this honor you have been given,” she concluded, a small twinkle in her eyes.

“My lady Domina, you have saved both Armen and me from much distress with our wives,” Tostig said with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

Lara could not contain her laughter, but then she said, “I cannot blame them for being ambitious for their husbands, my lords. But Terah can only have one ruler. You understand fully what I have told you. I alone will rule Terah for my son. His best interests, and those of Terah, are my priorities. I will not allow this to degenerate into an internecine family war which would surely spill over into Terah itself. Our strength lies in our unity, for be certain, my lords, that when Hetar learns of what has happened they will be considering ways and means of conquering us. The Lord High Ruler Jonah is no fool. He has been to Terah. He knows of its riches. The fever for acquisition runs in Hetar’s blood. In their eyes Terah is a great prize.”

“Lady Domina,” Armen said quietly, “Tostig and I are content being landowners. Corrada we all know loves his ships, and being captain of all captains. Let all of Terah believe we rule for our nephew. We gladly leave that onerous task to you. You are far wiser and more sophisticated than we are. You will know how to hold Hetar at bay.”

“What will you tell your wives?” Lara asked Tostig and Armen.

“Nothing but that we three are the Dominus’s Council,” Tostig said emphatically. “If either of us says more than that Aselma and Narda will quarrel over which of us should have precedence so they may have precedence over each other. Nay, Armen, Corrado and I are equals by the Dominus’s command. But what if the Lady Persis should tell her older daughters of Magnus Hauk’s dying wishes?”

“She will not,” Lara said. “The Dominus Taj Hauk has personally commanded that she keep the secret of his father’s request that there be peace among us. Persis is no fool. She knows the dangers involved in such an indiscretion.”

“And she is used to obeying a male’s orders,” Sirvat said mischievously. “My nephew’s age matters little to her. He is a male, and he is the Dominus.”

Lara smiled at her sister-in-law’s observation. “Then it is settled, my lords. The first day of each month I will bring you by means of my magic to the castle, and we will meet. That will allay any suspicions that your wives may have in this matter. Now, let us join the Lady Persis.”

They rejoined Magnus Hauk’s mother, and her two older daughters. Sirvat went to her elder sisters, kissing each one and greeting them. Lara waited for Aselma and Narda to acknowledge her, but only when Taj spoke sternly to his aunts did they do so.

“You have not greeted my mother, my father’s widow,” the young Dominus said.

“Our brother is gone. What importance can this faerie woman have in Terah now?” Aselma said rudely. “Will she not go from us soon?”

Lara was astounded by the woman’s words. She had never been particularly friendly with her husband’s two older sisters, but the antipathy in Aselma’s words surprised her.

“Where would I go?” she asked Aselma in an icy voice. “Terah is my home. My son is its ruler. Until he weds I am yet the Domina.”

“Aye! Still you have no real importance here now. My brother is dead. But the boy is too young to rule!” Aselma quickly replied. “He needs the guidance of an older man. He must not be corrupted by you as Magnus was. Women are not meant to rule.”

“My son has already in his young wisdom chosen his three uncles to be the Dominus’s Council,” Lara responded. “I will bring them here to the castle at least once monthly to meet with my son and conduct the business of government.”

“Once a month?” Aselma screeched. “One of us should at least live here at the castle to guide the boy each day.”

“And I suppose you think you should be the one chosen,” Narda cried angrily.

“Cease your arguments, Aunts,” Taj Hauk said. “I do not choose to have either of you moving into my mother’s house, and this castle is indeed my mother’s home. Look to my uncle’s injuries. My mother’s magic has managed to heal his bones, but his bruises will take weeks to heal. She left them so that Terahns might see that he, too, was injured. His broken heart may never heal. Two days ago my father was killed. Tomorrow we will bid him farewell. If you cannot keep from your petty quarreling in these sorrowful times then I will send you home today.” The boy had drawn himself up to his full height. His turquoise-blue eyes were fierce with his determination.

Narda and Aselma were suddenly properly cowed into obedience. The two sisters bowed their heads. Like their mother they accepted male dominance.

“Greet my mother properly now,” Taj Hauk said, and they did. “You are all dismissed now but for the Domina. I will see you at the evening meal.” He waved them off with a firm hand.

When the chamber was empty Lara turned to her son. “I can see you have already learned from your father,” she said.

The boy grinned. “Father would have been harder on them for their rudeness to you, but I understand they are grieving, too. Still, I know that had I not shown a firm hand with them at once their behavior would have escalated. They are old-fashioned, but the truth is they are both as ambitious as any for power. They shall not, however, have mine.”

“Nor should anyone, my son,” Lara told him. “I know there are many who think that I ruled over your father. I did not. But your father was willing to listen to what I had to say, Taj. And he was not ashamed to take my advice when it was good. I hope one day you will give your wife that same courtesy.”

“In many cases,” her son answered, “you made him believe your advice was his.”

Lara smiled. “You are clever to have seen that,” she replied. “He never did.”

Taj chuckled. “Of course he didn’t, Mother. He loved you beyond all else.”

The tears came swiftly and unbidden at the boy’s words. Lara turned away quickly, wiping the evidence of her grief with her two hands.

“Mother! I am sorry,” her son cried. “I shall not speak of my father again.”

“Nay!” Lara said. “Nay! You must always speak of him, for as long as people speak of Magnus Hauk he is yet with us. His memory must remain, Taj. He was a great Dominus. Only a great man would have listened to me when I realized the men of Terah had been cursed by Usi. Only a great man would have had the courage to fly in the face of Terahn tradition and trust a woman to correct a bad situation, but your father did. His loss is so new, my son. And I will weep for him easily now. In time I will grow stronger, and my cold faerie heart will be hard once more. I have encased it in ice already, but the ice seems to melt at the mere mention of Magnus Hauk.” She brushed the tears that continued to flow away again. “I suppose it is that small bit of me that is mortal.” She sighed, and gave a watery little chuckle.

The boy put an arm about her shoulders. “It pleases me to see you grieve so for my father,” he said.

Lara almost laughed aloud at Taj’s pronouncement. It was just the sort of thing Magnus Hauk would have said to her. “You are truly your father’s son,” she told him as he hugged her close.

“You must rest now, Mother, for tomorrow will be a big day for all of Terah,” Taj said to her, but she shook her head.

“Nay. I will go and don the finest robes I have. Then I will sit at the foot of your father’s bier in the Great Hall of the castle until the morrow. The people have been coming all day to pay their respects. We must open the doors to them soon,” Lara told him. “It is tradition that a Domina sit at the foot of her husband’s coffin and greet his people as they come to mourn him. I will not neglect that tradition.” She kissed Taj’s cheek. “Come into the hall while I am there, and greet the people.”

“I will,” he promised her.

She left him, and went to her own chamber where Mila, her serving woman, was waiting for her. Lara was surprised to see that Mila had laid out a simple white silk robe, its round neckline and long full sleeves edged in shining gold threads. “You think this appropriate?” she asked the servant.

Mila nodded. “He has been dressed in his finest and richest robes, Domina. You in a simple gown will show all of Terah your respect for Magnus Hauk by your lack of ostentation. It is the Terahn way, Domina, but as you have never attended to the death of a family member before you would not know that. All of them, even the young Dominus, will dress plainly so as not to take anything away from Magnus Hauk, for this is his time.”

Lara felt the tears coming again. She collapsed briefly into a chair and wept softly. Finally drawing a long, deep breath she arose. “I will bathe first, Mila.”

“Of course, Domina,” the serving woman replied.

The women in the bath were ready for their mistress. Lara was too weary and sad for conversation, and they understood. When she had finished her ablutions she returned to her bedchamber, where Mila helped her dress and brushed out her long golden hair. The servant fit a narrow gold band about her mistress’s head. The band had a small bloodred ruby in its center. Mila lastly fit a pair of golden kidskin slippers on Lara’s dainty feet. “Stand up, Domina, and let me see if all is right,” she said.

Lara stood. The silk in the loose gown felt cool against her legs. It would be a comfortable gown in which to sit, she thought. Turning, she looked at herself in the tall mirror. It was indeed a modest gown, and if Terahn custom demanded it then she was content to wear it. “Tell the majordomo that the doors to the hall are to be opened to the people at the noon hour.”

“I’ll go immediately, and you eat something from that tray.” Mila pointed to the sideboard where the tray sat. Then she hurried out.