Lara (44 page)

“We have not yet decided upon a course of action,” Rendor of the Felan said quietly. “Sit down now, Roan. And take your hand from your belt, Floren. Let us discuss this reasonably as we have always discussed matters of importance between us.”

Vartan now stood up. “The times are changing, my brothers, my friends. And we must change with the times, else we be left behind. But if we are to control our own destiny we cannot wait for Hetar to come further into the Outlands. We must form a central government, something we have never before done. And we need to speak with one voice. In the past we didn’t care that the Hetarians considered our Outlands a barbaric place. We had little if any contact with them. But as the years have passed they have grown to believe what were once merely words. They truly believe that we are savages, and therefore of little account. They will wrest this land from us if we do not stop them.” He turned to Floren. “I wish negotiation were possible, but it is not. We must strike these invaders hard. We must strike them now! Much blood will be spilled. The lives of those we know and love will be lost. But many more lives will be sacrificed unless we stop Hetar now. Look on the bright side, Floren. If we can crush the invaders before spring comes you’ll be home in time to plow your fertile fields.”

A ripple of laughter echoed around the stone edifice at Vartan’s words, and a small smile even crossed Floren’s plump face.

“We must put it to a vote,” Gitta of the Torin said, and the other chieftains nodded.

“May I consider it unanimous?” Vartan asked gazing about the council.

They all looked to Floren, who nodded slowly, saying, “I will hold you to your timeline, Vartan. I have seeds from two plants I crossed, and I want them planted next year so I may see if the flower is as beautiful as I suspect it will be.”

There was more laughter.

“What of a permanent council?” Rendor of the Felan asked.

Lara stood now. “With your permission, my lords, I will tell you of the High Council of Hetar,” she began. “The High Council consists of eight members, two from each province. They are rotated regularly that no member from any province can be bribed for his vote. The man from each province considered the most important takes his turn as head of the council. Again that honor is rotated, but in this case, every third moon cycle. The council head votes only when a tie must be broken. That is how Hetar is governed, my lords.”

“It is a simple form of government,” Rendor of the Felan noted.

“And still open to corruption, as all governments are,” Roan of the Aghy said.

“All of us are open to corruption, Roan. We need to speak with one voice to Hetar,” Vartan replied. “If we do not, they could divide and conquer us.”

“Perhaps,” Accius of the Devyn suggested, “we would do better to drive the Hetarians from the Piaras and the Tormod regions first, and then revisit this matter of a more formal government for our peoples. I would put Vartan of the Fiacre forth as our warlord, and Roan of the Aghy as his second in command.”

“I will agree,” Rendor of the Felan said.

“And I,” Imre, Torin and Accius said.

“Petruso?” they asked the now mute leader of the Piaras, and he nodded in agreement, drawing his sword and waving it in the air.

“Petruso says that while he can no longer speak, he can still fight,” Imre told them.

Petruso nodded enthusiastically, and made several stabbing motions with his weapon to the cheers of his companions.

“Such a shame,” Sholeh murmured to Lara. “He had the most beautiful singing voice. As good as a Devyn, and he always entertained us at the Gathering.”

“I never knew Hetarians could be so cruel,” Lara replied. “I was sold into slavery so that my father could have his chance to become a Crusader Knight. He was a renowned warrior, but had not the means to join the tournament until I was sold.”

“Were not his skills enough?” Sholeh asked surprised.

“Nay,” Lara said, “they were not. A man who becomes a Crusader Knight must look as if he belongs among them. I hope my father is not among those who have invaded the Outlands. I do not know what I would do if I found myself face-to-face with him in a battle.”

“Then you mean to go with Vartan?” Sholeh asked.

“Aye, I do,” Lara told her. “I could not sit home at Camdene waiting for word. I am skilled with sword and staff. I must go with him. I am meant to fight this battle.”

“Do you love my cousin?” Sholeh said.

“I do not believe in love,” Lara told her. “I respect Vartan, and I admire him. I gladly share my body with him. Is that not enough for a man?”

“I do not think it is,” Sholeh answered Lara.

“It is the best I have to give,” Lara replied.

“You will love him one day,” Sholeh told her with a smile. “Come, let us leave the council now. They will discuss how many warriors each of them should give, some saying because they have less land, they should send fewer men. It is the kind of argument that would drive a sensible woman mad.”

“They must send a large army,” Lara said. “The larger the force, the more impressed Hetar will be. And we must win the first battle, Sholeh. That means we must have the advantage over them to begin with, and I know just how to gain it.”

“How?” Sholeh asked her.

Lara shook her head. “I will tell you after it is done, but not before. Vartan and I have already talked about it. Tomorrow you must see that Adon and his wife are kept busy, so busy that they do not wonder where my husband and I have gotten to. Can you do that? Include Noss and Bera as well.”

“You will need an excuse for your absence,” Sholeh said.

“We will be planning for the war with the other chieftains, and my husband wishes my advice as I have been raised in Hetar, and know them best.”

“You do not call yourself Hetarian,” Sholeh noted.

“Hetar is all of our world, but if it must remain divided,” Lara replied, “then I am of the Outlands, for that is where my heart is. I realized it the moment Noss and I exited the cave in the cliff into the plain. It stretched before me, and I knew immediately that I had come home.”

Sholeh smiled at the answer, well pleased. Vartan had taken a good wife. That night she came with several of her children, and grandchildren. She invited Bera, Noss, Adon and Elin to join her the following day in preparing a special feast for the next night. “No one can ready a hot pit like you, Adon,” she praised her younger cousin. “And Elin’s sauces for the roasted meats and poultry are without equal.” She turned to Noss. “You could learn from Elin, my child,” she said.

“You have not asked Lara,” Elin noted.

“My wife will be with me in the war council,” Vartan replied smoothly. “As she has lived much of her life in Hetar her advice is invaluable. Sholeh knew that beforehand, Elin.”

“Mayhap she has been sent by Hetar to mislead us,” Adon said softly.

“You are a fool, Adon,” Lara said, and then she turned to Bera. “They had the same father?”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Bera replied dryly.

“Why is it that my words are never considered seriously?” Adon demanded.

“Because,” his mother said, “you do not consider your words first, my son.”

Later as they lay amid the furs that made up their bed Vartan made plans with his wife, “We must leave just before the dawn, when we are least likely to be seen. How long do you think we will be gone? A day? Two days?”

Lara shook her head. “The magic of the Shadow Princes brought Noss and me through the cliff tunnel to the Outlands. When we looked back those same cliffs were gone, or at least so distant that we could not possibly have traveled that far from them in a single day. Tonight I will put my mind to reaching out to Kaliq. We will leave before dawn as you suggest, and see what happens, my husband.” Then her hand went to the crystal.

“Does Ethne agree?” he teased her.

“Ethne has been silent of late,” Lara admitted.

He reached out for her, but she pushed him away, and he looked at her surprised.

“We must conserve our strength for the journey ahead, Vartan,” she counseled him wisely, and with a sigh he nodded, giving her a chaste kiss. Then turning away from her he fell quickly asleep.
Say something,
she whispered to Ethne.

Rely on your instincts.
The flame flickered and banked low. Lara then called out to Kaliq and hoped that he heard her.
I need your counsel, Kaliq. Come to me.
Finally, she slept.

In the dim light before the dawn two eagles rose up from the encampment of the Gathering, and flew toward the Desert. The birds soared in silence throughout the morning, but as the sun reached the midway point in the heavens Lara saw a great tree ahead of them. It stood alone amid the plain, and was covered with golden leaves.

“Vartan,” she called to her husband as he flew by her side. “We must descend to the ground beneath that tree.”

The two eagles dropped down until their clawed feet touched the ground below, and they uttered the words that restored them to human shape. Under the tree a table had been set for three. There was a joint of meat, bread, cheese, fruit and a jug of wine.

Lara laughed, delighted. “Kaliq! Where are you, dear friend?”

And immediately the Shadow Prince stepped seemingly from inside the great tree. “Lara,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her forehead, “it is good to see you again.” Releasing her he turned immediately to her companion, “And you will be Vartan of the Fiacre. I am Kaliq of the Shadow Princes. Why have you sought me?”

“May we sit down, and refresh ourselves?” Lara said gently.

“I am sorry,” the prince apologized. “You have traveled a long way this morning, and you must return to your Gathering by nightfall. Eat, drink and we will talk.”

The two men stared at one another. Kaliq, tall, dark-haired and bronzed from the sun of his Desert, his light-colored eyes in vivid contrast. Vartan, tall, dark-haired and bronzed from the winds of the plains, his blue eyes suspicious as he frankly examined the man who had been his wife’s lover, and was yet her friend.

“Thank you for coming to meet us,” Lara told Kaliq. “And in such elegant fashion! Does the tree belong here, or is it one of your delicious illusions?”

“You see how well she knows me, Vartan,” the prince said with a smile. “You were right to make her your wife, but be warned, this small difficulty you now face is but the beginning of her destiny.”

Vartan’s jaw tightened, but before he might respond the prince spoke again.

“Do not be angry with me for knowing what you cannot. Even Lara does not know. She must follow her instincts,” Kaliq said. “And do not be jealous of me, Vartan. I had to let her go. Now, how may I help you?”

They sat down at the table beneath the tree, and while Vartan spoke, Lara served them food, and poured Frine from the jug.

“The Devyn brought word to me that our mountain clan families had been invaded, but only at our Gathering did we learn the seriousness of what is happening, my lord prince,” Vartan began. “The leaders of both families managed to escape that they might reach us, but it took them months to effect this escape. The Crusader Knights have killed innocents and are pillaging the land. Hetar has violated a centuries-old treaty between us. We must drive them out of the Purple Mountains before winter, and we have little time to do so. Each day we wait, they entrench themselves deeper into the Piaras and Tormod territories, and their people suffer greatly.”

“What do you want of me?” Kaliq asked.

“We need to learn—” Lara broke into the conversation “—if the High Council has approved this incursion, my lord prince, and if so, why? Two of your like sit on that council. They would know, and we must know. Even now my lord Vartan is assembling a mighty army to go to our clan families’ aid, but the Crusader Knights are a fierce foe, and many will be killed before this is settled.”

“I do not know if the High Council approved this incursion into the Outlands, Lara,” the prince told her. “I will seek the answer to that question. But I do know the men who invaded the territories of the Piaras and the Tormod are not Crusader Knights. The Crusader Knights are noble in their thoughts, hearts and deeds. They fight only to keep Hetar safe from harm. There is no danger from your clan families to Hetar, and they know this. And Crusader Knights would not enslave a people, and carry on a commercial enterprise. This smells to me of the Merchants Guild, and your old friend, Gaius Prospero,” Kaliq said. “It could very well be that the council is in ignorance of what is happening in the Purple Mountains. Or it might be that some of them have been bribed to look the other way. But our representatives would know that.”

“I would learn who the head of the High Council was late last autumn, or in early winter,” Lara told him.

Kaliq chortled. “It is not a wager I should put money on, Lara, for again I will bet that it was Gaius Prospero. He would have been able to bribe everyone but our princes, and perhaps the Coastal Kings depending on who sat on the council then.”

“The Felan have land along the sea,” Vartan said. “The gentle hills along the coast are perfect for their sheep. They have always lived in harmony with the Coastal Kings. They allow them to put in for water, and fish in the seas off their shoreline. I believe that Rendor has friends among the Coastal Kings.”