Crown of Destiny

They fell asleep together upon the reclining couch in the gardens, and when they awoke Lara sought out a balcony in Kaliq’s palace that faced the rising sun. Pulling her loose gown from her, she stood, arms outstretched by her sides, her palms up, and allowed the great golden orb to bathe her. Its rays shot forth to fill her with strength, and she radiated light. It seeped into her flesh, and could be called upon later to protect her. When the sun had finally risen above the horizon, Lara left the balcony and went to bathe. Then Cadi dressed her in a beautiful white gown with long full sleeves and a rounded neckline. The serving woman fastened a gold rope belt about Lara’s waist and slipped gold sandals upon her dainty feet. Brushing her mistress’s long gilt-colored hair, she plaited it neatly, weaving delicate ropes of gold amid it so that the hair glittered even more than it naturally did.

When she was ready, she joined Kaliq. Together they broke their fast. He had bathed and was dressed all in white, too. His bright blue eyes sparkled in his tanned face as he fed Lara bits of melon, and she laughed at him, licking his fingers teasingly. He stopped, shaking his head at her in mock disapproval. “We have business to attend to first, my love,” he said. “Do not distract me.”

“Then do not treat me as if I were your special pet,” Lara shot back as she buttered a piece of fresh warm bread and began to eat it.

“Your point is taken, faerie woman,” he responded. “But I cannot resist you.”

“I know,” Lara answered him, grinning mischievously.

“Remind me to take a lover one day soon,” he said wickedly.

“If you insist,” she chortled. “Would you like me to choose her for you?”

Kaliq burst out laughing. “I do not know how your mortal husbands survived that sharp tongue of yours, my love.”

“I thought you liked my tongue,” Lara teased back.

“Stop! Stop!” he pleaded, laughing harder, and she laughed with him.

The meal finally concluded, they went to Kaliq’s library, where he took a black onyx bowl from a cabinet and, taking up an earthenware pitcher, poured water from it into the bowl. The water lay crystal clear and still within the wide almost flat dish.

Lara waved her left hand above the water, saying as she did, “Show me Kolgrim.”

The water darkened, and then clarified to reveal the Twilight Lord in his Throne Room consulting the Book of Rule while old Alfrigg stood by his side. The chancellor looked tired, Lara thought.

“Remember, my lord, you are to remain unseen,” Lara said to Kaliq.

He nodded and then, wrapping his cloak about them, transported them to the Throne Room of the young Twilight Lord. Lifting the edge of the cape to allow Lara to be seen, it appeared as if she had simply stepped from the air itself.

“Kolgrim,” she said by way of greeting.

The Twilight Lord looked up, surprised by the sound of her voice. Then he smiled broadly. “Mother dear! How nice of you to visit. How long has it been? A century?” Reaching out to catch her hand, he kissed it.

Lara felt an icy chill race down her spine, but she showed no distaste. “You have left your hair golden,” she said. “I would have thought it better if you darkened it.”

“My golden locks remind everyone who my mother is,” he said with a smile. “I believe that to be a good thing, coupled with my father’s features. Why have you come?”

Lara turned her eyes on the very elderly chancellor. “Greetings, Alfrigg. I would have thought you retired by now.”

The old dwarf bowed low. “Greetings, Domina. Regretfully I can find no one who suits my lord, though, by Krell, I have tried hard.”

Lara looked at Kolgrim. “If he dies, what will you do?” she asked.

“He will not die,” Kolgrim replied. “I have put a spell upon him. I need him.”

“You are truly a monster like your father,” Lara said, feeling sorry for Alfrigg.

“Why have you come to visit me?” he repeated. “I doubt not there is a purpose in your sudden appearance.” He smiled at her, and briefly Lara was reminded of his father, who now lay imprisoned beneath his own castle. Kolgrim was a handsome man. Tall with lightly tanned skin, his cheekbones were high, his nose long and straight and his mouth wide and sensuous. His had thick bushy black eyebrows above his dark gray eyes, which had long dark eyelashes tipped in gold. Like his predecessor, his eyes turned black with his deep thoughts. While his father’s handsome face was more beautiful and his twin, Kolbein, looked just like Kol, Kolgrim’s visage was stronger, more masculine. He favored the dark robes his father had once worn.

“I am told,” Lara said, “that you seek to take a bride and sire your heir. I thought that Ciarda, your half sister, had been given that privilege.”

The Twilight Lord’s eyes grew black with his displeasure. “The bitch failed me. She was filled with a sense of her own importance but her womb was barren. And she never stopped nagging me. Her bones lie bleached and white below the ravine bridge. I can point them out to you if you wish to see them.”

“It was too soon for you to sire an heir,” Lara told him, controlling her urge to shudder at his dispassionate explanation.

“You are right, Mother! If only you had said so to me then,” Kolgrim exclaimed.

“You would not have listened,” Lara told him. “Children seldom listen when they set their minds to something.”

Alfrigg smiled a small grim smile. Kolgrim was a great Twilight Lord, but had his mother taken any interest in him at all he would have been a greater one.

“Are you planning to marry?” Lara said again.

Kolgrim smiled slyly at her. “Perhaps,” he said.

“What does the Book of Rule say?” she asked bluntly.

The Twilight Lord shrugged. “I would show you, but you couldn’t read the words for they are in our ancient language,” he told her.

“I do not need your book. All I require from you is an answer. Do you plan to wed, Kolgrim?” Lara demanded for a third time.

“I have already answered you, Mother. Perhaps,” Kolgrim said.

“Perhaps is not an answer. Eventually you must wed in order to sire an heir. The rumor currently making its way about our worlds is that you intend to take a bride soon. Where will this unfortunate bride come from, Kolgrim?” Lara’s gaze met his and did not waver. She was stronger than he was, and she wanted to remind him of this salient point.

Kolgrim finally looked away from his mother, irritated. The faerie-woman mother was more powerful than ever, he thought. If he could but have that power! “The Book of Rule has not revealed the chosen maiden to me yet,” he answered her honestly. Then his eyes danced devilishly. “Will you come to the wedding, Mother, and give us your faerie blessing? I promise you the grandchild I sire on this unknown will honor you as your Terahn and Hetarian grandchildren and great-grandchildren have not.”

The barb stung but Lara struck back. “’Tis true they do not honor me, but my Belmairian descendants do. My son’s wife has borne him beautiful children.”

“I am your son, too!” Kolgrim cried out.

“You are your father’s son,” Lara said cruelly. “Farewell, my lord!”

She quickly stepped back, feeling Kaliq next to her. He knew what she wanted, and his cloak immediately made her invisible. She did not speak in even their silent language for if she had, Kolgrim would have known that someone else was there, as he was capable of hearing and speaking that tongue himself. The Shadow Prince simply transported them back home to Shunnar.

“He is every bit as devious as his damnable father,” Lara said angrily.

“But he speaks the truth,” Kaliq said. “If the book had already instructed him to the unfortunate who is to be chosen, he would have told you. He wants you to know that he is capable of being every bit the Twilight Lord his father was.”

“He never really knew Kol, and he did not know me until he was grown, but other than his golden hair, he is all Kol. His instincts for evil are all there, Kaliq. But we must learn who the bride is before he has a chance to wed her.”

“Until the Book of Rule reveals her to Kolgrim, we have no chance of knowing,” the Shadow Prince replied.