The Twilight Lord (52 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

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

BOOK: The Twilight Lord
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Jonah took the baby, still covered with blood and birthing fluids, into his hands, and holding him up again declared, “I accept this child as my son. He shall be called Egon, the formidable one. None shall stand successfully against him.”

The audience again clapped wildly.

The infant was taken back by the midwife, cleaned and then put with his mother.

The guests to his birth then departed the chamber, leaving Jonah alone with his wife. When the infant cried, Vilia put him to her breast, and when he tugged upon it a great rush of maternal love overwhelmed her and tears filled her eyes.

“You may nurse him for one month until you have regained your strength again,” Jonah told his wife. “I have already chosen a wet nurse, my dear one.” Seeing the protest in her eyes he continued, “I need you to return to your work with the women of Hetar. Remember that in three months we shall hold our first elections. I want at least half of those elected to be of the fair sex.”


You
chose a wet nurse? I think you mean your mother chose one,” Vilia said sharply. “I will choose my own wet nurse for Egon. One I can trust not to poison our child through her milk.” She gazed down adoringly at the infant. “Is he not beautiful, Jonah? And look at that midnight-black hair of his. It is like silk to the touch.”

“He is very pale,” Jonah noted. “You are certain he is healthy?”

“He suckles strongly, my dear lord,” Vilia assured her husband.

“I like watching you nurse him,” Jonah said. “I am jealous, however. One month, Vilia, and no more. I mean it.”

“You want to suck upon my nipples yourself,” she taunted him.

“And stuff you with my manhood,” he replied bluntly.

“You have my permission to visit the Pleasure Houses,” Vilia said sweetly.

“Nay! I have not these last months and I will not. I will lust for you until we couple again, my wife. There is no weakness in me as there is in other men,” he told her.

Vilia smiled archly at him. “Nay, there is not. Nor was there ever. That is why I fell in love with you all those years ago, Jonah. You are strong. You do not give in to your baser nature as Gaius Prospero did. You know what you want and you take it and you hold it. In one month I shall turn Egon over to a wet nurse of my own choosing. And I will give you pleasures beyond measure as we work together to rebuild Hetar.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles at her. “You are indeed the most perfect woman for me, my love,” he told her. Then kissing her brow, he arose, saying, “You will want to take your rest now. I will send the child’s nursemaid to take him. Sleep well, my lovely Vilia. I am well pleased with you.”

She watched him go, and then handed over her new son to his nursemaid with the instruction, “Bring him to me when he hungers again.”

“Yes, my lady,” the woman said and hurried out with the now sleeping infant.

From his place in the shadows Prince Kaliq had seen and heard all that he needed to, so he slipped silently away back to Shunnar.

Vilia lay back in her bed and considered the road that lay ahead of her. The creature who had called himself her cousin had not lied to her. She had birthed a son, an heir for Hetar. She wondered if she would ever see Kol again. She had never known that her ancestress, Ulla, had shared the sorcerer’s affections with another. Another who had given a son. That part of Ulla’s history had never come down to her female descendants but then Ulla would not have wanted it known that she shared a husband with another woman. Was Kol’s line a male one as her line had been a female one?

Vilia remembered the time just before her marriage to Gaius Prospero. She had always known the history of Ulla as handed down to all the females in her family. What she had not known and was then told was that in each generation a single female was said to carry the sorcerer’s blood more strongly than her female siblings and cousins. That female was identified by a small black birthmark in the shape of a star on her left shoulder. Vilia had that mark. And her mother had whispered to her, it had been foretold that the twelfth generation would rule Hetar. Of course her mother, being a properly raised Hetarian woman, believed that Vilia would rule through her husband and so had Vilia. Only the women in her family knew these secrets. Not even her uncle Cubert, the current patriarch, was aware of it.

For now, however, Vilia mused as she lay in her comfortable bed, she would allow Jonah to rule for her. She sensed that her time had not quite come. She wondered if the Domina of Terah had birthed her son yet. Tomorrow she would advise Jonah to send a message to Lara and Magnus Hauk that Hetar had a strong young heir. They should cultivate closer ties with Terah. By the time Egon was grown Hetar would be restored to its glory, and if he and the Dominus’s heir were friends, might it not be easier to betray and conquer? With those happy thoughts in her head Vilia fell into a deep sleep.

A
CROSS THE SEA
in Terah, Lara began to recover from the shock of the births she had just experienced. For several months she nursed both of her children before turning them over to wet nurses. By the time Taj and Marzina were six months of age each had distinctly different personalities. Marzina constantly wanted her mother’s love and attention. She could be a charming child but she had a decided temper when crossed. Taj, like his father, was quiet and determined. And he was the only one who could cajole his twin from her anger, or her doldrums when Marzina became depressed. Lara considered it an amazing connection, considering the only blood the twins shared was hers. She was not unhappy to release both children into the care of others for if she were honest with herself she had to admit that while she loved all of her children, she preferred her husband’s company and the governing of Terah to all else.

It was late summer, and the royal family had been paying a brief visit to the New Outlands. In late autumn she would return for the Gathering with her husband so he might accept his yearly tribute from the clan families. In midautumn Dillon would go to Kaliq to begin his training. Lara could not believe that her son was old enough. But his powers were obviously growing; she had no choice. Without a complete understanding of the responsibility his powers carried, Dillon could easily allow his mortal nature to abuse them.

Her oldest son came to her side now as she sat upon the hillside staring out over the land before her. “I will miss you, too,” he said sitting down next to her.

Lara smiled. “I should find it disconcerting that you can so easily read my thoughts,” she said and took his hand up and kissed it.

“I know all that happened to you, Mother,” he answered.

“What on earth do you mean?” Lara replied.

“The Dark Lands.
All of it.
Kolbein and Kolgrim, my half brothers. Marzina. All,” Dillon responded. “When Prince Kaliq erased everyone’s memories, mine did not disappear. I remember that year you were gone from us. When you walked upon the Dream Plain that night, Mother, I was there. I saw what the Twilight Lord did. It was then I spoke to the prince. He said it was obviously meant that I know, but for what reason he could not yet divine.”

“Why did you wait until now to tell me?” Lara asked her son. She was very shaken by his revelation. And like Kaliq she was curious to know why he had been made privy to this part of her life she wanted to keep hidden.

“I do not want to have secrets from you, Mother, and soon I will go to Shunnar. I wanted you to know that I share your pain and your sorrow.” Dillon moved now to sit facing his mother. He took her hands in his. “I am young, I know, but the love that you shared with my father, Vartan of the Fiacre, has made me stronger than most boys my age. And I seem to have inherited your talent for magic.” He gave her a small smile. “I am proud of what you did, Mother. You walked into the darkness, created chaos to protect both the magic and the mortal worlds, and then returned filled with more light than ever before. But I know all of it weighs upon you. And I know it is not easy to carry both mortal and faerie blood in your veins. I wanted to tell you that I am here for you to lean on, Mother. No matter my youth, I am here for you.”

Lara pressed her lips together hard to stifle the cry that wanted to erupt. That this beautiful son of Vartan’s should offer to bear some of her sorrow upon his own shoulders almost broke her heart. He should not have known.
He should not have!
It was a hard burden for her, but he was still a child. And yet sitting there looking at Dillon, Lara could see he was not quite that child she thought him. She could see the man he was one day going to be. “I am not easy that you should know of Kol and what happened, my son, but there must be a reason that you of them all retained that knowledge. Because Kol was taunting me, I had Kaliq restore your stepfather’s memories of that time and told him of Kol’s sons. I could not keep secrets from him.” She reached out and ruffled her son’s dark hair. “You have not shared your knowledge with anyone, of course.”

“Nay,” he said.

She nodded. “I am glad you are here for me, Dillon.” She would not offend him by suggesting he was too young to help share her burdens.

“I will miss you when I am gone,” he said. “Yet I am eager to go to Shunnar. The prince says Amir is trained and ready for me to ride. He says we will ride out into the desert and he will take me to the Oasis of Zeroun where he first saw you.” Dillon’s young voice was filled with excitement. “And I will finally come to know Og better.”

Lara smiled at her son’s enthusiasm. “You understand that for your own sake it will be many months before we see one another again,” she told him.

“I know, but if I grow lonely for you, Mother, I shall view your beautiful face in my reflecting bowl.”

“You do not have a reflecting bowl,” Lara replied.

“The prince says I am to have one,” Dillon answered excitedly. “I have tried to bring images up in the garden birdbaths, but I cannot hold them long enough to enjoy.”

“Of course you can’t,” Lara remarked. “Birdbaths are not magical.” She was amazed that he had tried and impressed that he had managed to gain any image at all, even if it had dissolved. Yes, as much as she regretted losing him, it was definitely time that Dillon went to Prince Kaliq.

Before the Domina’s return to the castle the Fiacre held an end-of-summer feast for Lara and her family. A field of flowers outside of New Camdene was the setting, with trestles and benches set up, the tables groaning with food. Representatives from the other Fiacre villages had come to join them. Lara delightedly greeted Vartan’s favorite cousin, Sholeh. “Before we speak on pleasantries, tell me of Cam?”

“Though he does all he is asked and studies hard, I see the darkness growing in him,” Sholeh answered. “I do not know what we can do for him.”

Lara nodded. “I should have strangled him when I slew his parents. But now time and the Celestial Actuary protect him, for no one else will.”

Sholeh shrugged. “I suppose you are right,” she said. Then, “So you have twins! Did you bring them?”

“We left them at the castle with their nurses. They are yet too young to travel,” Lara said. “But the others are with us. Dillon goes to Prince Kaliq in a few weeks for training. His magic is growing of itself.”

“You were wise to take Dillon and Anoush to Terah when you did,” Sholeh said. “Our folk are not used to magic, and find it difficult to accept.”

Lara knew that Sholeh was right. After all she had done for the clan families she had hoped they would be less suspicious of her. But many, despite their kind words, were not. It was their nature, she supposed, and it could not be helped.

Dillon and Liam’s sons were playing with a ball in the meadow. Anoush was helping Noss add more food to the feast tables and Zagiri was helping with little Mildri, who was now walking and chattering away. Zagiri seemed to love the New Outlands even as her older siblings did. It was the freedom to run and play in the sunlight, Lara realized. At the castle the children were mostly confined to a small garden except when they rode.

The whole day long the Fiacre ate, drank and played games in the meadow. There was music and dancing as the day began to come to a close. Shy at first of the Dominus, the women grew less so as he insisted on dancing with as many of them as he could. Lara laughed watching him, but then joined the circle herself to dance with the men of the clan family. Soon the children were emulating their elders in their own dance. Then as the darkness fell the sky was filled with flying stars and everyone stopped to watch the beautiful display as the fires grew dim. And then it was over and they gratefully found their beds.

In the morning, Lara and the Dominus returned to the castle. The children were still tired and Lara was anxious to see her twins. Since their birth she had come to honestly love them both. Taj was a sturdy infant with a serious demeanor. He was, Lady Persis insisted, very much like his father at that age.

“As I cannot remember,” Magnus said with a wry grin, “I cannot dispute it.”

Marzina for all her hot temper adored her mother with an almost slavish devotion. Taj was the only other person with whom she would willingly share Lara. When any of her three older siblings came into proximity with their mother Marzina would begin to whine softly, sometimes so low that it could almost not be heard. But the look on her baby face was one of jealousy, plain and simple.

When Lara saw it she would scold the little one. “Mama has other children, too, Marzina,” she would say. Having gained her mother’s attention Marzina would break into a smile and then laugh.

As for the Dominus, Magnus Hauk loved all his daughters devotedly, Anoush among them, which pleased Lara.

The time was drawing near for Dillon’s departure. Lara had thought to take her son to Shunnar herself, but Prince Kaliq himself arrived on the appointed day to escort his new pupil.

“I thought it better that Dillon bid you all farewell here,” he told them.

“Will Cirillo be there when we arrive, my lord?” Dillon asked excitedly.

“Your uncle will not come for several months,” Kaliq explained. “He has magic, and has lived with it his whole life, Dillon. You will need to get use to living with magic. When you have then Prince Cirillo will join us. But you will have Og as a friend and Amir is waiting for you. And we will have many adventures as I teach you all about the world of magic, my son.”

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