Lara (45 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Lara
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“Even one’s allies are open to the right bribe,” Kaliq said.

“Then why should we trust you?” Vartan demanded. “We do not know you.”

Kaliq laughed. “You do not, Vartan of the Fiacre, but Lara does, and she trusts my brothers and me. Do you not, Lara?”

Suddenly she was swept back to that night when Kaliq had shared his passion for her with the other Shadow Princes. She almost blushed with the memory of the delights they had all enjoyed, for she had eventually remembered. Then in a burst of clarity she realized the lesson they had taught her that night. Trust! She had trusted them not to harm her, and they had not. They had instead offered her pleasures such as she had never before imagined. “Yes,” she answered him in a strong voice, and their eyes met briefly. Then she turned to her husband. “I do trust the princes, Vartan, and so should you.”

He had not missed the silent byplay between his wife and Prince Kaliq, and he swallowed down his jealousy. Had she not warned him he would be jealous, and had he not strongly insisted that he would not? He could not fail her, and shame her before this prince. “If you trust the Shadow Princes, Lara, my love and my life, then I shall trust them, too.”

The faintest of smiles brushed Kaliq’s lips, and he nodded with respect to the clan chieftain of the Fiacre. He was worthy of Lara, the prince thought. Then he said, “I will learn immediately what it is you need to know. If you will wait for me here I will return before sunset.” He waved his hand, and the table with its chairs and dishes disappeared. In its place was a reclining couch large enough for two, a small table by its side bearing a decanter and two small goblets.

“That is not subtle at all, Kaliq,” Lara scolded him with a giggle.

“We cannot wait, my lord,” Vartan said. “If we do not begin our return journey now we will not be back in time for the evening feasting. It is when we all come together, and speak.”

“Take your pleasure while I seek out the answers you need,” the prince said. “I will see you are returned to the Gathering place in time.” Then, stepping back, he seemed to disappear into the bark of the huge tree.

“We cannot wait,” Vartan repeated.

“His magic will put us back where we should be at the proper time,” Lara said. “Please trust him, Vartan. I know you said you do, but I also know you said it for my sake, and Kaliq knows it as well. Both of us realize your hesitation stems from your jealousy.” She took his hand, and led him to the reclining couch. “Will you deny us the pleasure of this moment when we are alone, and have a bit of privacy?” She undid her gown, and let it fall to the grass beneath her sandals. Her beautiful naked body glowed in the sunlight of the midautumn afternoon. “After last night, I long to be between your strong thighs, my husband. I ache to be filled again with your manroot. Come into my arms, my lord.” She began to undress him, and a slow smile lit up his face.

Damn the handsome Shadow Prince who had once known the pleasure of his wife’s passion! Lara was his alone. Her soft words, and gentle hands were arousing him. He gladly gave in to her blandishments and helped her so that shortly they stood nude, arms about each other. Her hands slipped down his long back, to cup and caress his tight buttocks. Her fingers brushed over his hot length, running beneath it to fondle the sac holding his seed. He growled deep in his throat, and his mouth found hers in a searing kiss.

Lara sighed at the touch of his lips on hers. Sighed again as those lips traveled first over her face, then blazed a fiery trail down the slender column of her neck. His big hands enclosed her waist, lifting her up to kiss the shadowed valley between her breasts. He licked at her nipples, and her eyes closed in anticipation. His mouth closed over first one breast and then the other, suckling at them hungrily. She clung to him, eager for what was to come as he lay her upon the large reclining couch, but today he surprised her.

She lay spread open to him, but he did not immediately fit himself between her legs. Instead he sat upon the couch next to her, and drizzled a bit of Frine onto her torso. Then lowering his head he began to lick it up, his tongue moving frantically to keep up with the individual droplets running across her body. Soon the liquid was all gone and Vartan moved to kneel between her limbs. His busy tongue moved lower until it was pushing between her nether lips, until he found that delicate nub of flesh that gave such delight when properly encouraged. He touched it lightly with just the tip of his tongue. Then he began flicking at that fleshy kernel until Lara was whimpering, and her slender body trembled with excitement and she cried out. It was a sound of satisfaction that caused him to smile. He was as hard as rock, and without further ado he covered her body with his and entered her.

“Ahhh!” Lara half sobbed as his manroot filled her. “Oh, my lord, yes! And yes again, and yet again!” She wrapped her legs about his hips. Her arms clung tightly to him. Her entire body was atingle with their joining. Her fingers kneaded his broad shoulders. She tried not to scratch him, but he laughed softly in her ear.

“Mark me with your claws, my love!” he encouraged her. He could feel himself swelling inside of her, feel the muscles of her love sheath embracing him. He groaned as her nails raked down his back enjoying the slight stinging pain which but added to his excitement. He began to move on her.

Lara sobbed with the pleasure they were sharing. Her head began to spin, and starbursts in a thousand rainbow hues burst behind her closed eyes. Every part of her felt alive with his love. She could feel her nipples pressing against him as he crushed her breasts against his chest. She savored the great length of him as he thrust again and again into her molten core. And then she sensed the coming storm of passion that would leave them both weak and satisfied. It exploded within them simultaneously and they cried out together with one voice.

Afterward they lay quietly in each other’s arms, the soft late afternoon breeze brushing over their damp bodies. Finally Vartan spoke.

“You know that I love you, Lara.”

“Yes,” she answered. Nothing more.

“Can you not say it, my wife?”

“I do not believe in love,” she replied. “I have said it before. Why does it now come as a surprise to you? I have a faerie woman’s cold heart, Vartan. But I will tell you that I have never before experienced the kind of pleasure that we share. Never! Not with any man. And I respect you as lord of the Fiacre, and as my husband. It must be enough, for it is all that I can give.” Lara slipped from his arms and, standing up, began to dress. “You had best put your clothing back on, my husband. Kaliq said he would be back in late afternoon.”

“Is it that you don’t want to embarrass him with my magnificence?” he teased her.

“Precisely,” she agreed with a little smile.

He chuckled, and then rising proceeded to dress.

They sat back down on the reclining couch, and sipped Frine from the goblets Kaliq had left. The sun was beginning to slip down the smooth silken sheet of the blue sky when the Shadow Prince stepped from the great tree to rejoin them.

“I have word for you,” he told them, seating himself between Lara and Vartan.

“Tell us,” Lara said.

“I was correct when I said that it was not Crusader Knights. The invaders are mercenaries in the pay of Gaius Prospero, who convinced a majority of the High Council to pursue this small encroachment into the Outlands. The Mercenary Guild needed work. They were becoming restless being so idle, and beginning to cause trouble in the City. Nor did they enjoy paying bribes to their leaders for the small assignments that were coming their way. The Midlands and the Forest Lords voted for the breach in the treaty. My fellow princes and the Coastal Kings voted against it, but as we suspected, the greedy Master of Merchants was council head at that time, and he voted for the incursion. They have taken much ore from the Piaras and the Tormod so far. There is talk in the council of annexing these territories because of the lack of resistance from the Outlanders. Hetar does not understand your ways, and so it believes that you are weak. You will have to strike these invaders hard, and cause them much harm in order to discourage them from moving further into the Outlands.”

“A winter war will be cruel for all involved,” Vartan noted, “but it must be done. We have no other choice.”

“We can help you,” Kaliq said quietly, “if you will allow it.”

“How?” Lara asked.

“We have the ability to control the weather if necessary. Usually we allow nature to have its way for that is best. But it will be more difficult for your army to fight in the snows and bitter cold. Such winter weather will not touch the Tormod and the Piaras this year. We will keep the worst of winter from the territories involved in this dispute. And the Coastal Kings have agreed to close their lands to the rest of Hetar that you may not be attacked from another direction, and can be certain your women and children are safe in your villages,” Kaliq told them.

“And in return?” Vartan asked the prince.

“Nothing,” Kaliq replied. “One day we may need a favor from you, and when that day comes I am certain that you will render it to us in kind, Lord Vartan.” He held out his hand to Vartan, who gripped it in return. Lara placed her own dainty hand upon the locked hands of the two men. “We are agreed then,” the Shadow Prince said, “and now I must return you to the Gathering before you are missed. Lara knows how to contact me. Fight well, my friend, and drive Hetar back within its own borders.” Then he made a fluid motion with his free hand, and seemed to dissolve before their very eyes. Blinking in surprise, they found themselves back in Vartan’s pavilion.

“There you are,” Bera said. “I wondered where you had gotten to! It is almost time for the feasting. I have never known a longer day than this one, with Elin droning on about how important the freshness of ingredients for her sauces is. If they did not taste so good I vow I would strangle the wench, no matter she is Adon’s wife. And he was no better as he explained the intricacies of choosing just the right wood for his fire pit. Where were you?”

“We met with Kaliq of the Shadow Princes, and learned much of what is behind this invasion,” Vartan replied. “I will tell you after I have met with the other leaders, and set a time to speak on it,” he said to his mother. Then turning he left the pavilion.

“How is this possible?” Bera gasped.

“There has been much magic this day and there is more of it to come,” Lara told her softly. “But it has been good magic, Bera. The Outland is not alone in this fight.”

“What would we have done without you, my child?” Bera said. “You are truly a blessing to us, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword, wife of Vartan.”

“It is my destiny,” Lara returned with a small smile, and Bera chuckled.

“Come, help me bring food to the feasting table,” she said.

And together the two women carried the bowls, the platters and the assorted dishes adding them to what was already there from the other clan families. The great array of food and drink was quickly consumed as early evening turned into night, and the stars twinkled above them. And then the four moons of Hetar rose, each in its quarter phase. This night the copper Desert moon shone full and bright. A good omen, Lara thought.

It was the last night of the Gathering. The bonfires that had sprung up at sunset to usher out the old year and welcome in the new blazed high. As it grew later and later, more of the clan families departed for their own tents, but Vartan kept his wife by his side until they and the other clan leaders were alone.

“It is time to speak,” Vartan said.

“Why is your wife here in a war council?” Torin of the Gitta demanded.

“Because without her we would have no hope,” Vartan said. “She will be the savior of the Outlands, and her voice is my voice. You will obey it always, Torin. Now hear me. Today Lara and I met with Kaliq of the Shadow Princes. We have learned that the incursion into the Piaras and Tormod territories is an expedition to test our strength and determination. The Midland Merchants, led by the master of their guild, are behind it along with the Mercenary Guild. Those who invaded you are not Crusader Knights but mercenaries. This scheme was concocted by Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants. The ores and gems stolen from the Piaras and the Tormod have been added to his own treasury. His wealth makes him a powerful man and he heads the Hetarian High Council. The Merchants and the Forest Lords voted to test our determination, while the Shadow Princes and the Coastal Kings voted to maintain our ancient treaty. The tie was broken by Gaius Prospero himself, as he, of course, meant it to be. If only Imre and Petruso had reached us sooner—but they did not. Now we must drive the mercenaries from their lands.”

“With the winter coming,” Floren of the Blathma reminded them dourly.

“We have allies among Hetar,” Vartan said. “The Shadow Princes will hold back the winter from the mountain territories. This will allow us to invade without fear of cold and snow. The Coastal Kings will not allow any from the other provinces into their bailiwick until this matter has been settled. Rendor has made good friends, which will work to our advantage now. We will not have to worry about being attacked from another direction. But most important we shall have the element of surprise, for over half a year has passed since Hetar pushed into Tormod and Piaras. At this point I am sure Hetar believes we will do nothing. But if we do not take back these territories then Gaius Prospero is planning to annex them. Who will they come after next?” He looked about. “The Devyn are the easiest target, and then Blathma will fall, and so on.”

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