The Twilight Lord (28 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical

BOOK: The Twilight Lord
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He stood, taking her hand. “When will you give me a son, Lara? When will you give me an heir for Terah?” His turquoise eyes searched her face for the answer. “But months ago you said you would.”

“The time is not right now,” Lara told him. “We must settle this matter with Hetar first. Remember, my lord, that while my faerie powers have grown stronger over the years, I am still half-mortal. I cannot do all my mother can do. Carrying a child will drain me, and I need all of my strength for what lies ahead. Besides, women can rule, Magnus. Do not discount little Zagiri just yet.”

He took her in his arms, and kissed the top of her golden-gilt head. “After what you did to repel the curse of Usi and banish his shade from Terah, I really have no right to ask anything of you.”

“But Terah will have an heir,” Lara said. “I know it. I promise you, Magnus, that when we have finally settled this matter I will give you your son.” Reaching up she caressed his handsome face. “He must have your features and your turquoise eyes.” She smiled into those eyes she so loved.

“Come,” he said and he led her out into their favorite of the gardens that hung over the Dominus’s fjord. The air was almost cold and the night sky above was black.

“Look,” Lara said, pointing up. “’Tis Belmair. After what my mother told us tonight I shall never again look at it in the same way.”

“Nor will I,” Magnus Hauk admitted. “I am still not certain I believe it. Another civilization, other people. It is very far away, isn’t it? Do you think we will ever know more?” he asked her.

“I cannot say,” she answered him. “Tonight I learned for the first time in a great while how little I actually know, Magnus. There always seem to be more questions than there are answers.” She laughed. “It is humbling.”

“Do not grow too humble,” he advised her. “I like your arrogance, wife.”

“Arrogant? I am not arrogant!” Lara exclaimed, and she hit him a little blow upon his arm. “Why would you say such a thing? You are the arrogant one!”

“I am the Dominus of Terah,” he responded reasonably.

“And the Dominus is arrogant!” Lara told him. “He always has been.”

“I am Lara, Domina of Terah, daughter of Swiftsword and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries,”
he teased her wickedly in a falsetto voice, his eyes dancing with amusement, but his amusement turned quickly to surprise as Lara reached out and yanked on his dark-blond hair. “Ouch, you faerie witch!” he yelped.

“Serves you right,” she told him, and then turning she scampered off.

Grinning, Magnus Hauk chased her across the garden. “You’ll pay for your disrespect, wife,” he told her, but when he reached out to grab her arm Lara disappeared and he was left grasping at air. Then he heard her tinkling laughter.

“Come and find me, my lord,” Lara called mischievously.

The castle door opened and closed quickly, and he knew she was gone from the garden. He followed in haste. As he hurried down the corridor the fire bugs in the globes lining the hallway dimmed ahead of him. The door to their apartments flew open of themselves and closed before he could reach them. Gaining the entrance at last he pulled the doors open, walked across the spacious dayroom and entered their bedroom, where he found Lara sprawled upon their bed.

“What kept you?” she asked him teasingly.

He flung himself down next to her and pulled her head to his. “You do not always play fair,” he said softly.

“I am Lara, Domina of—”

He stopped her mouth with a hard kiss. “Of Terah, daughter of Swiftsword and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries,” he finished for her. “But first you are my love and my life, Lara, Domina of Terah,” Magnus Hauk said and kissed her again.

Lara wound her arms about his neck. “And you are my only love and my life, my beloved husband,” she told him.

Their lips met again, this time in a long sweet kiss, lips tasting, tongues dancing. Their bodies molded themselves against one another as they stretched themselves upon the bed. His big hand caressed her small heart-shaped face tenderly. Her fingers kneaded the back of his neck, her body quivering as she anticipated what was to come.

Lara pulled her mouth from his but briefly.
“Robes, evaporate!”
she said and they were naked.

His big hand immediately went to one of her breasts, fondling it, pulling the nipple out, gently pinching it. Shifting positions he raised himself just slightly, and then lowered his head as his mouth closed over her breast. He suckled on her and Lara was suddenly awash in sensation. She sighed deeply with the beginnings of pleasure. When he left her first nipple wet and puckered he moved to the second one, but this time one of his hands held the breast while the other began to play between her thighs.

The tips of his fingers began to stroke the soft sensitive flesh, making her shiver with anticipation. He pushed through the delicate folds, finding her jewel, playing with it until she was squirming beneath him and moaning low as the heat began to permeate her body. He watched the play of emotions across her face. Her eyelashes fluttered upon her fair cheek as he pushed first one, then two and finally three fingers into her body. His fingers swirled about her love sheath, mimicking the rhythm of his manhood, faster and faster until she was sobbing with a mixture of both pleasure and desire. His voice whispered hotly in her ear. “Tell me what you want, Lara.”

“You!” she cried. “Oh, hurry, Magnus!
Hurry!

Covering her writhing body he entered her slowly as Lara gasped and clung to him. She was so delicate, yet she was strength itself as she wrapped herself around him and caught the rhythm of his passion. He thrust hard. She rose up to meet him. Their mouths met and tasted. They sucked and licked at each other as he drove himself in and out of her love sheath. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her nails raked down his back. Lara cried out softly and Magnus groaned as they met perfect harmony in the pleasure dome. And then their bodies fell away from each other, though their limbs remained intertwined.

“If I accepted your offering tonight and gave you a son,” Lara finally said, “then we should not enjoy pleasures until he was born.”

“Why not?” he demanded to know. “We enjoyed occasional pleasures while you carried Zagiri.” He leaned over and kissed her breast. “And I am not yet satisfied, wife.”

Why had she said that?
Lara wondered to herself. She had never denied either of her husbands her body when she was with child. Oh, yes, they had to be careful but she had indulged her lusts right until the last moment. It was the weeks afterwards when she had been healing that she had not wanted to take pleasures.
Why had she said it?
She shrugged to herself, then pulling his head down kissed him again. “You are a greedy man, Magnus Hauk, but when you have sufficiently recovered your strength I will feed your appetites once again,” Lara told him.

She dreamed later that night. Dreamed of a dark place and heard a voice calling her name. She awoke with a start, drenched in her own sweat, while Magnus snored by her side. She could actually feel her mind grasping at something that didn’t seem to be there. Lara arose and went into her private bath to sponge herself with cool perfumed water. When she went back to sleep, it seemed a dreamless one, yet in the morning she remembered that odd little scrap of dream.

In the days that followed Lara began to devise a spell that would allow her to summon certain women of Hetar to the Dream Plain, where she might speak with them freely and convince them that Terah and she were no threat to Hetar. That Gaius Prospero sought only more wealth and power, at the expense of the people and even Hetar’s survival. She gathered together the dried leaves and blooms of strong yet gentle herbs and flowers. Clover. Lavender. Camomile. Mint. She ground them into a fine powder in a bowl carved from dark-green agate. Removing most of the powder and storing it in a crystal flacon, she lit a small leaf of sage and dropped it into the mortar. The mixture flamed quickly with a small puff of smoke as Lara spoke.

“Lady Gillian, headmistress of the Pleasure Guild,

Through the magic of this spell

I summon thee to come to me.

Do not take fright, for all is well,

And we two shall like sisters be.”

Lara then quickly lay upon the simple cot in her apothecary and closed here yes. Almost immediately sleep claimed her. When she opened her eyes she stood in the mists of the Dream Plain and through the beclouded haze she saw a figure approaching.

“Who summons me?” Lady Gillian said. She was a tall woman of regal bearing with dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes.

“Lara, Domina of Terah,” Lara replied quietly to the woman now facing her.

A look of not quite distress, but concern, passed quickly over Gillian’s beautiful face. “What do you want of me, Domina of Terah?”

“I mean you no harm,” Lara quickly responded. “I merely wish to speak with you. The choice to remain here on the Dream Plain with me is yours, my lady. I cannot, nor would I, force your will to mine.”

“They say you would use your magic to harm Hetar,” Gillian said.

“Terah has no quarrel with Hetar,” Lara answered her. “Nor would I use my magic for a dark purpose, lady. The problem lies, as I think you know, with those who govern Hetar. Hetar is not meant to be an empire. It has always been a benevolent republic. The High Council ruled fairly by majority agreement, not through the will of one man alone. But now self-interest rules Hetar and he who calls himself your emperor is about to lead you into another war, lady. Does no one in Hetar remember the Winter War? The toll it took on Hetar was small compared to what will happen if Hetar attempts to wage war on Terah.”

“Do you threaten me?” Gillian demanded to know. Her look was severe.

“Nay, lady, I do not threaten you. I simply ask you why the women of Hetar choose to remain silent in the face of looming tragedy.”

Lady Gillian looked startled at the question, so Lara continued.

“Why is it that women have no voice in the governance of Hetar, lady? Women have certainly shown that they are capable of rule. Women manage the Pleasure Houses in Hetar. There are women who keep shops and several who qualify as merchants and do successful business despite the fact that the Merchants’ Guild will not allow them to become members. Women are healers and teachers of our young, and even the simplest women in the quarter keep their hovels and families in good order. Yet there is not one woman on the High Council from any of the provinces.

“You stand silent while the emperor and the magnates drive up the price of bare necessities. As headmistress of the Pleasure Guild I know you are aware that the Pleasure Houses are proving less and less profitable, because the cubits needed for an evening’s entertainment these days must be used to feed a family. You have seen the quality offered in the shops and markets of late. These goods are not nearly as fine as they once were, lady. But you remain silent.”

“The shoddy goods in the markets now are
your
fault,” Lady Gillian said. “Ever since we learned that the Coastal Kings were merchant traders, not the craftsmen we believed them to be, you have sent us items of poor quality.”

“Nay,” Lara told her. “The trade between our nations has grown smaller. Gaius Prospero has confiscated much of the open lands belonging to the Coastal Kings. He and the magnates have set up factories in an attempt to reproduce what Terah has been sending to Hetar for centuries. But you have no craftsmen nor artisans to do this work, lady, and the goods they manage to finish are awful. As for the little trade between our lands now, those goods are retained for only a few in favor with Gaius Prospero.”

Lady Gillian’s look was one of outrage at Lara’s words. “But the Pleasure Houses should be given the best of everything,” she said. “And in return we offer the men who come to us the best of everything. We sing and we dance, and we hold intelligent discourse with our patrons. We have always been treated well, but if the truth be known, Domina of Terah, we have not been treated as well in the last few years.”

“And you have said nothing,” Lara remarked quietly. “Why?”

“Why?”
Lady Gillian looked puzzled and then she answered, “I don’t know why. The life of a Pleasure Woman, a Pleasure Mistress, has always been circumscribed by its rules. You certainly know that, Domina.”

“Rules can be broken, lady. Especially when the enforcer of those rules is not keeping up his end of the bargain. It is up to the owners of the Pleasure Houses to see that the women who manage the houses and the women who inhabit them are kept comfortable. But I will wager that you have of late had many complaints from the Pleasure Mistresses in that regard,” Lara said.

“How can you know that?” Gillian demanded.

But the look on her face told Lara that she had guessed correctly. The hard times in Hetar were hitting at higher levels.

“I know,” Lara said quietly, “because if the cubits are finding their way into fewer hands, lady, then everyone will suffer. And now your emperor proposes a war. To what purpose? He promised Hetar’s citizens land and slaves when the Outlands were taken. But there was naught in the Outlands but emptiness, and now the choicest parcels of that territory belong not to the people, but to the emperor, his friends and the magnates.

“Now Gaius Prospero once more promises the citizens of Hetar great wealth if he can gain Terah. How truthful are his words, lady? You know he lies again, and but seeks profit for himself. Hetar cannot survive under such conditions. But the women of Hetar say naught. They sit while their world is crumbling about them, while their men are either worked to death or sent off to war to die, while their children cry from hunger.

“Are the carefully circumscribed rules of Hetarian society so ingrained into the women of Hetar that they will remain silent and die rather than speak up?
They must demand change!

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