A Distant Tomorrow

“Nay, Uncle. The marriage of the Dominus must be a great occasion,” Magnus said. “And my sister is not of a mind to wait,” he chuckled, skillfully avoiding answering his uncle’s question. He had made a very great promise to Lara, and he would not marry her until he had fulfilled his obligations.

The High Priestess departed, escorted by several young priests, back to her own temple compound.

Arik ate the evening meal with them, and then bid them good-night. “Come and see me, Magnus, before you depart on the morrow,” he said.

“I will, Uncle,” the Dominus promised.

“He will want the answer to the question he asked you earlier,” Lara said.

“I know,” Magnus answered her.

“Perhaps it would be best if you told him,” Lara advised. “I know it will surprise him, but it may be better that someone else knows what we are doing. There may come a time when we need his help. ’Tis better your uncle feel we have kept nothing from him, that we trusted him enough to share our plans with him.”

“Perhaps I should go to him now. This is not something quickly told, and we do want to get back to the castle tomorrow,” the Dominus said thoughtfully.

“Go and find him,” Lara told him. “I am tired, and will seek my bed.”

He pulled her into his arms, and kissed her a slow sweet kiss. “Then good night, my faerie love. Sleep well,” he told her.

An unfamiliar feeling overcame her briefly. Reaching up she caressed his face. “Good night, Magnus,” she responded. When he had left her, Lara considered what had just happened. What had she sensed? Was it some type of emotion? Affection? Caring?

Love? Ethne’s voice was very clear.

“I do not know how to really love,” Lara said aloud.

Perhaps you are finally learning, Ethne replied. You had great fondness for Vartan, but you did not really love him, though he thought you did when you gave him the children he desired.

He was good to me, Lara said silently.

This man may well be your equal, Ethne said. We will see if he keeps his promise to you to help the Outland peoples.

He has never really faced the duplicitous behavior of which Gaius Prospero and the High Council of Hetar are capable. He is strong, and he is wise, but he lacks the sophistication necessary to deal successfully with Hetar. Terah is totally different from Hetar, Ethne. They have lived the same sort of life for centuries, never changing, never looking forward. What if Arik convinces Magnus not to help the Outland family clans?

He won’t, Ethne said with great assurance, but it would not be unwise for you and Magnus to visit Hetar. If he saw what was happening there perhaps he would better understand your concerns. We all see different situations in different lights, my child. You clearly see the danger for the Outlands, but Magnus is a stranger. He cannot see unless you show him.

I had thought never to return to Hetar again, Lara admitted.

Just enough of a visit to introduce Magnus to the Outland clan lords and to show him the decay and corruption of the City, of those who now rule Hetar, Ethne said.

It must be done secretly, Lara told her crystal guardian. Will you contact Kaliq for me, and see if he can help?

I will, Ethne promised. Now go to sleep, my child.

Sirvat must be wed first, Lara insisted.

Of course. Now sleep!

And while Lara spoke with Ethne, Magnus had gone to his uncle. He found Arik in his private quarters. The older man did not seem surprised to see his nephew, even just having bid him good-night. He dismissed his servants and motioned the Dominus to a seat by his fire. “I thought you might come and speak with me before you retired,” Arik said quietly. “This must be a most important undertaking. Tell me what it is, Nephew.”

“First I would tell you that it is Lara who feels you should be made aware of what we mean to do, Uncle,” Magnus began.

The High Priest chuckled. “She is a clever and intelligent woman, for which you may thank the Great Creator.”

“Several days ago when she finished lifting Usi’s curse from all but those here,” the Dominus began, “we flew over the mountains to the lands beyond. There is another sea as well, Uncle. Lara says it is called the Obscura.”

“You flew?” Arik’s eyebrow quirked.

“Her horse can sprout wings, Uncle. It is magic. And he talks as well,” Magnus admitted with a small grin.

Arik shook his head amazed. “Go on,” he managed to say.

“The lands beyond our mountains are great, Uncle. And they are uninhabited. A huge fertile plain with nary a village or cultivated field.”

“And what do you intend doing with it, Nephew?” Arik asked him.

Then the Dominus explained to his uncle what he had promised to Lara, and why.

The High Priest nodded thoughtfully. Then he said, “Better to have vassals paying you a yearly tribute and making the land useful than to have it uninhabited, for an enemy or stranger to take. What is on the other side of this sea called Obscura?”

“Hetar, even as it is with Sagitta,” Magnus answered him. “The difference is that Obscura’s opposite shore meets the desert of the Shadow Princes.”

“Then we are endangered from both sides,” Arik said.

“No one knows of Obscura but the princes, for it is at the far end of their desert where no one goes, even the nomadic desert dwellers,” Magnus told his uncle.

“For now,” Arik replied thoughtfully. “Still it would indeed be better to have enemies of Hetar on those plains. If Hetar ever sails across that sea they will not receive a warm welcome, and we will be warned. Are these Outlanders good soldiers?”

“When it is necessary,” Magnus answered. “They prefer to farm, mine and tend their herds and flocks, Lara said, but when threatened they become a strong fighting force. She has fought with them in a war she called the Winter War.”

Arik smiled briefly. “A most versatile faerie woman.” He paused in thought for several long moments. “You love her enough to do this for her, Magnus?”

The Dominus nodded. “I do, Uncle. She believes, and I believe, too, that it is her destiny to save these peoples.”

“This is not an endeavor that should soon become public knowledge,” Arik said.

“We are all agreed upon that point, Uncle,” the Dominus replied.

“I am glad you have shared this with me, Nephew,” the High Priest remarked. “Now, tell me. Have you spoken with my sister Persis about her daughter’s wedding yet? She will be most pleased, I am certain.”

“Our mother has had little to do with the upbringing of my youngest sister,” Magnus said stiffly. “She will be invited to the festivities, but no earlier than the other guests. From the moment she left the castle she has shown no interest in Sirvat. She has not seen her in five or more years. Narda and Aselma were always her especial pets, Uncle. She was proud to birth me for she had then given my father an heir, but Sirvat’s conception was an error, she told me when my sister was born. She said she had taken comfort in the fact that this unexpected confinement would give our father a second son. When it did not she virtually washed her hands of the infant. Sirvat cannot remember Persis even addressing her but for half a dozen occasions before she departed to live with Narda,” the Dominus explained.

“I had not realized she was so distant with Sirvat,” Arik replied. “Persis was always a bit cold. I was surprised when your father took her to be his wife. I always wondered what it was he saw in her.”

“She fascinated him,” Magnus answered his uncle. “He could never get enough of her company, her beauty, the pleasures she offered him. She knew her duty, I will say that for my mother. As Domina she was without peer, and she deferred to my father in all the things she did. My father adored her, and she was the perfect wife for him. But she was also selfish and self-involved, Uncle. Surely you understood that? You grew up in the same house