Roan of the Aghy spoke up. “My horses are healthier than they have ever been,” he told her. “And thanks to your Dasras I will have at least a dozen fine new foals next spring. I hope you do not mind that he came visiting my mares,” Roan chuckled.
Lara laughed. “I have yet to see Dasras, but nay, I do not mind,” she said. “I am pleased that this new Outlands suits you all. Rendor’s flocks have the best wool they have grown in years. I need only hear from the Piaras and the Tormod now. Have you been able to make arrangements with the Mountain gnomes to open mines of your own?” she asked turning to the two clan lords involved.
“The Tormod have,” Imre said coming forward. “And I have brought two of the Mountain gnomes with us as guests. Fulcrum is the chieftain of the Jewel Mountain gnomes. They have the magic to open a hillside without doing any damage to the landscape. They have exposed the entrances to three mines for us, and we have spent these past months digging out some of the finest gemstones we have ever seen. We will, with the gnomes’ aid, sell our gems to the Terahns.”
“Will you not be taking their livelihood from them if you do?” Lara asked.
“Nay. It is the gnomes who will deal with the Terahns as they always have, and they will keep a percentage of our profit for doing so,” Imre explained.
“But will you not drive down the price of the gems if you flood the market with what you have mined, and what they have mined?” she inquired.
Imre chuckled. “There speaks the Hetarian in you, Lara. Fulcrum and his gnomes are old. There are fewer of them now than there have ever been, and none has been born in several hundred years. Many are not so eager to work now. But we are, and so they sell to the Terahns, and we share the profits. You will speak with Fulcrum yourself and see. It is a fine partnership.”
Lara nodded, and turned to Vanko of the Piaras. “And how have your people fared?” she asked him.
“We have made an agreement with the Ore gnomes that has us mining gold in their new mines, for the old ones were worn out, while they mine the silver and copper. They continue to sell the product of our combined labors, and take a percentage of the profits for their trouble. They, too, are few in number now, and mining gold is difficult work. We are all comfortable with this arrangement.”
“I am pleased to hear it, Vanko. How is your father?” Lara asked.
“Eager to see you,” Vanko said with a smile. “You will come and take a cup of frine with us later, I hope.”
“I will,” she said returning his smile.
Lara turned to meet the gaze of Accius, lord of the Devyn. “And how have your people fared?” she asked him.
Accius smiled. “We will be writing and singing of our exodus from the old Outlands, and our welcome to these new Outlands for years,” he told her.
Content that the clan families had settled into what was now known as the new Outlands, Lara returned to the Fiacre encampment to meet with Liam. There she found her former mother-in-law with the boy, Cam. Bera, once her friend, now glared as she caught sight of Lara. She bent and whispered to the lad at her side.
“I greet you, Bera,” Lara said.
“Why have you returned to the Outlands?” Bera wanted to know. “You will bring the Hetarian hordes upon us, faerie woman. You are evil!”
“There is no longer a danger from Hetar,” Lara said quietly. “You are in the new Outlands, and Hetar is across a wide sea, Bera.”
“Faerie lies!” the older woman snarled.
“You killed my parents,” Cam suddenly said looking directly at Lara.
“Your parents killed my husband,” Lara responded. “Revenge was my right according to the laws of the Fiacre.”
“You are not Fiacre,” the boy quickly replied. “You are faerie.”
“When I married Vartan of the Fiacre I took his clan family to myself, to my heart. I was Fiacre when I slew Vartan’s murderers. My children are Fiacre.”
“Your spawn are half-breeds!” Bera screeched.
“They are your grandchildren, old woman, but since you disparage them I will arrange for you to no longer be bothered by them. I will not have you whispering your poisonous drivel into their ears. The treachery of your spineless younger son against your noble eldest son has disordered your wits. You are mad, Bera, and I am sorry for you, but you will not harm my children in your dementia,” Lara told her.
“It is my right to be here,” Bera said stubbornly. “My son is clan lord here. He will tell you when he comes, faerie witch.”
Lara shook her head. “Vartan is dead,” she said quietly.
“Did you kill him?” Bera demanded to know.
“No, Adon and Elin slew him in his hall,” Lara replied.
Bera looked suddenly confused, and by her side the boy, Cam, smiled at Lara.
Then Sholeh, headwoman of the Fiacre village of Rivalen, and blood kin to Vartan’s family, was there. She nodded sympathetically at Lara, and putting an arm about Bera led her off. Cam followed. He had taken but a few steps when he turned, and smiled once again at Lara. It was a malevolent smile for so young a lad. Lara’s eyes locked onto Cam’s and held his gaze until the boy was forced to turn away, the look upon his face one of awakening fear.
“He is evil, isn’t he?” Dillon was by her side.
“Yes,” Lara said, and put a protective arm about her son. “Come. Let us walk together, and you will tell me of your summer here in the new Outlands.” Together they strolled from the tent, and away from the great encampment out into the fields beyond.
“Have you taken a new husband?” Dillon asked.
“Aye, the Dominus of Terah. I am now called the Domina,” Lara said.
“Will you give him children?” Dillon wanted to know.
“In time,” his mother answered.
“Then you love him?” Vartan’s eyes looked up at her.
“Yes, I do,” Lara replied quietly. “You will meet him soon. He will come to accept the yearly tribute from the clan families before the Gathering comes to an end.”
“Could we live with you, Mother?” Dillon wanted to know.
“If you wished it, aye, but I have always thought to leave you with the Fiacre, for you are Vartan’s only son, Dillon. One day you will be Lord of the Fiacre,” Lara told him.
“Nay, I will not,” Dillon responded. “And I do not want to be, Mother. Tearlach will follow his father, and it will be many years hence for Liam will live to be a very old man. I believe I have your gifts, Mother, and I am not afraid.”
Lara sighed. “If that is so, Dillon, then one day you must study with the Shadow Princes, for your blood is more mortal than faerie. They can help you achieve what you need to accomplish better than any.” Perhaps it is better that Vartan is gone, she thought, for he would have wanted his eldest son to follow in his footprints and not mine.
“I must protect the Fiacre against Cam,” Dillon said softly.
“Cam is young yet as you are,” Lara remarked. “Now, tell me of your summer, my son. We will have several days in which to discuss that which concerns you. Noss says you have learned to ride Dasras properly now. I shall ask him to choose another mount for you as I must take him back to the castle when I go.”
“It was a summer as any other,” Dillon said. “Dasras and I explored this land almost every day. There are wonderful wild creatures here, Mother.”
“And your sister? Did you take her with you at all?” Lara wanted to know.
“Anoush is too young to ride before me,” the boy replied. “Besides all she wants to do is follow Noss about. She calls Noss, Mama.”
“I am grateful for Noss,” Lara said.
“She is not our mother,” Dillon said loyally. “You are!”
“When Anoush is older she will understand,” Lara counseled him. “For now let Noss who loves her be Mama. You know who I am, and for that I am glad. Always make certain your sister knows who you are, Dillon.”
“I miss you,” the boy said.
