“Will you remain at Shunnar?” he asked as he reclothed them with a snap of his fingers.
“No. I must return to the New Outlands else they worry. Ever since that summer the Twilight Lord kidnapped me they fret if I am gone more than a day or two,” Lara explained to him. “Put me back in my chamber in Liam’s house in New Camdene.”
“With the Horse Lord?” Kaliq said dryly.
Lara laughed. “Stop being jealous, but if it will satisfy you I am through with Roan. He was beginning to become possessive of me. If he is still in Liam’s hall I will send him back to his own hall and his eight wives.”
“I will admit that that would please me, my love,” Kaliq said.
Lara laughed softly. “Oh, Kaliq, you must not let me be your weakness,” she told him. “Remember I have a cold faerie heart, my lord.”
“Then I appeal to that bit of mortal within you,” he teased her. “Now I must send you back, my love, before I give in to my desire to take pleasures with you again.”
“You must return to your own hall, and meet up with your brothers,” she reminded him. Then she quickly kissed his lips. “Until later, my lord,” she said, and disappeared in a puff of green haze.
He laughed. She had taken herself off before he might send her back. Sometimes her beauty caused him to forget that she had powerful magic, too. Not as powerful as his, but her powers were great. With a swirl of his cloak he returned himself to his own privy chamber. The sun was rising over the Desert Kingdom, and it was time to go into the Dark Lands to find Kolbein, son of Kol, before the Darkling Ciarda could cause any serious damage to their worlds.
9
THE DARKLING KNOWN AS Ciarda had made her home in a stone castle her father had erected long ago in the Valley of the Penumbras. It was small, for those for whom he had brought this castle into existence didn’t need a great deal of space. It was cold, but that suited Ciarda’s icy nature although her two servants were always whining about it. She had finally given them permission to keep a hot fire in the kitchen where they slept. The fires that burned above the stairs in her hall and elsewhere were cold fire, and gave off no heat and but dim light.
The Darkling sat at her High Board staring out into her hall and considering her next move. She must set her twin half brothers against one another. Whichever of them survived she would take as a mate. She would force him to give her his male heir, for, having been raised with no knowledge of his heritage, he would know no better. Then she would encourage him to a thoroughly debauched life that would soon kill him.
And when he was dead she would take power in the name of her son. As for that son, she would see he was encouraged from the moment of his birth to indulge himself in every way. Nothing would ever be denied him, and, used to having his own way, he would find ruling a tedious bore, and leave it to his dear mother, who would do whatever necessary to keep her boy happy. Ciarda laughed at the picture she was painting. She would complete her father’s dream to conquer Hetar and even Terah when the power was all hers. Patience, however, had never been her strong suit.
Irritatable now, she called to her Wolfyn lover, who lay by the fire in his animal form. Springing up, he took on a more human appearance, and walked over to the High Board where she now sat. “Pleasure me,” she said in a cold, hard voice.
From the shadows where he stood Kaliq watched, amused for a brief moment, and then he returned to his privy chamber where he found Gaszi and Eskil already awaiting him. “No luck?” he said to them.
“None,” Eskil replied. “Their manner of living is disgusting, by the way.”
Gaszi nodded in agreement. “To put a child with creatures like that,” he said, shaking his head. “The Wolfyn clan you visited?”
“The boy was not there, either. I did check on Ciarda, and listened to her thoughts. She is quite devious and clever. She means to set her brothers against one another for starters, marry the survivor, mother his heir and kill her mate off. Kol would be very proud of her,” Kaliq remarked dryly. “She is ruthless, dangerous and completely without mercy. But she is also extraordinarily beautiful and has a vast appetite for pleasures. Her Wolfyn lover was doing his best to sate her when I left. His youth and his endurance are his only advantages. I actually felt sorry for him.”
Lothair, Terriss and Nasim suddenly materialized within the privy chamber.
“I believe I have found him, brothers,” Terriss said excitedly.
“Did you see him?” Kaliq demanded to know.
“Nay. He was with his foster father and brothers in the forest. But the women of the household spoke of Chancellor Alfrigg’s impending visit,” Terriss responded. “I could only surmise that meant the boy was a member of the household.”
“That would seem a reasonable assumption,” Kaliq said. “Did they say when the chancellor was expected?”
“Nay, but it seemed as if it would be very soon as the women in the household were busy cleaning and scouring,” Terriss replied.
“Their hundred-year cleaning undoubtedly,” Eskil murmured. “There were bones all over the floor of the house I visited.” He shuddered.
“We will set a watch on Alfrigg, and on the Darkling Ciarda,” Kaliq said. “And Lara must now begin to observe the sons she bore Kol.” He looked to Terriss. “Did you leave the crystal where it would not be found as you were instructed?”
“I did,” his brother replied. “You will be able to observe Kolbein wherever he is now. Shall we see if the token is working?”
Kaliq nodded, and, going to a cabinet, opened it to take out a beautiful crystal bowl, oblong in shape. Setting it upon a table, Kaliq raised his upturned palm slowly over the bowl, and it filled with a clear liquid. “Show me Kolbein,” he said. Immediately the liquid darkened then cleared. The Shadow Princes gathered around the bowl saw the Wolfyn’s hall. Uproarious laughter came to their ears and they saw the males of the Wolfyn pack gathered about a table where a female was bent over, her bare buttocks being whipped by a tall boy. They could hear the woman’s cries of distress.
Finally the boy threw aside the dog whip he had been plying. From his baggy trousers he pulled forth a manhood larger than any mortal his age would possess. Grasping the woman’s hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, the boy thrust himself into her, and then began to pump her hard. The woman screamed, which sent the men surrounding her into further bursts of hilarity.
“That’s it, Kolbein lad,” an older man encouraged the boy. “Stuff her full. Make the wench give you her pleasures. Go deeper, lad, and harder!”
“She isn’t a virgin,” the boy complained. “You promised me a virgin, Father Thorolf. The wench has a sheath that is wide as the open road and slack, too.” He pulled out of the female and pushed her away. “Go back to the kitchens,” he ordered her.
“But, my lord,” the woman said, clutching at his arm, “I did not give you pleasures.” She looked up anxiously at him.
“A creature like you could not give me pleasures,” the boy said sulkily. “Be gone!” His gray eyes were darkening with his irritation.
“Go!” Thorolf told the woman, and thrust her away. “Before he loses his temper and throttles you.”
“I want a virgin,” Kolbein said. “I want a virgin whose sheath is tight, and who will weep and beg me not to take her precious virtue away from her. I want a virgin I can thoroughly despoil, Father Thorolf. You found virgins for Wulfgar and Wulfram. Why will you not find one for me?”
“Your foster brothers found their own virgins, Kolbein. They hunted them down in their wolf forms. A Wolfyn can scent a virgin, but you are not Wolfyn, Kolbein. You were given to us to foster.”
“Who gave me to you?” the boy demanded to know.
Thorolf shook his head. “I am forbidden from telling you that until he comes himself to tell you. And that will be soon, I promise you.”
