of Terah your respect for Magnus Hauk by your lack of ostentation. It is the Terahn way, Domina, but as you have never attended to the death of a family member before you would not know that. All of them, even the young Dominus, will dress plainly so as not to take anything away from Magnus Hauk, for this is his time.”
Lara felt the tears coming again. She collapsed briefly into a chair and wept softly. Finally drawing a long, deep breath she arose. “I will bathe first, Mila.”
“Of course, Domina,” the serving woman replied.
The women in the bath were ready for their mistress. Lara was too weary and sad for conversation, and they understood. When she had finished her ablutions she returned to her bedchamber, where Mila helped her dress and brushed out her long golden hair. The servant fit a narrow gold band about her mistress’s head. The band had a small bloodred ruby in its center. Mila lastly fit a pair of golden kidskin slippers on Lara’s dainty feet. “Stand up, Domina, and let me see if all is right,” she said.
Lara stood. The silk in the loose gown felt cool against her legs. It would be a comfortable gown in which to sit, she thought. Turning, she looked at herself in the tall mirror. It was indeed a modest gown, and if Terahn custom demanded it then she was content to wear it. “Tell the majordomo that the doors to the hall are to be opened to the people at the noon hour.”
“I’ll go immediately, and you eat something from that tray.” Mila pointed to the sideboard where the tray sat. Then she hurried out.
Lara lifted the napkin covering the tray. Then she let it fall back again. Her appetite was practically nonexistent at this moment. She knew in time that she would eat again, but right now she could not entertain the thought. She did sip a cup of Frine. Then, leaving her apartments, Lara went to the Great Hall, where Magnus Hauk’s body now lay in state. The hall was empty, to her relief, for the coffin and its bier were newly arrived. A single small plain wooden throne had been placed at her husband’s feet.
Lara walked to where her husband lay. They had indeed dressed him in robes of incredible richness such as she had never seen. She did not recognize them at all. From where had they come? Lara looked upon the body. It looked like Magnus Hauk, and yet it didn’t. That spark that had given her mortal husband life was no longer there. His body was but a shell, and Lara sensed if she touched it it might shatter. Reaching out, she straightend one of his short golden curls. His eyes were closed, veiling forever the bright turquoise-blue of his wonderful eyes.
“Ah, my love,” she murmured softly. “It was a cruel and unfair end. What shall I do without you?” Then she bent and kissed his cold lips before taking her place in the throne at his feet. She could hear the bells in the castle’s clock tower tolling the noon hour, and as the last strike sounded the great wooden doors to the hall opened. Lara sat straight up in her chair.
Slowly, hesitantly, the first of the mourners entered respectfully. Their eyes noted the Domina who sat quietly on her throne at her husband’s feet. Looks of approval passed between the people as they noted her simple garb, her swollen eyes. Many of them had never seen Magnus Hauk’s faerie wife before this day, for Terah was a great land of plains, mountains and seven fjords all opening onto the Sea of Sagitta, but they had heard much good of her.
They had traveled from their scattered farms and villages when the word had reached them of Magnus Hauk’s death. Many of them for two days, coming in from the countryside by foot and in carts. Sailing up the Dominus’s Fjord in their small boats. They had waited outside the castle for their opportunity to mourn their ruler. They did not know the Dominus personally, but they did know that in his reign there had been peace, and prosperity, that in the reign of Magnus Hauk the curse of Usi had been lifted from them. It was public opinion that Magnus Hauk had been a good ruler.
Lara sat for the next several hours in silence as the mourners filed by her husband’s bier. Afternoon slipped into evening and evening into night. There was a small stir as Lady Persis entered the Great Hall. The crowd parted for her as she made her way to where Lara sat. Embracing her daughter-in-law she said softly, “You are a Domina to be proud of, Lara. I am glad that my son was so fortunate in his wife.”
“Sit by me for a time,” Lara invited Lady Persis. “You are his mother, and you once wore the Domina’s crown.” She moved from the center of her throne to make a place for the old woman.
Lady Persis’s eyes filled with quick tears. Nodding, she accepted the invitation so graciously tendered and sat beside Lara for the next two hours. An audible murmur of approval had arisen from the mourners at the sight of the two women seated on the single throne at the foot of the coffin. Finally the young Dominus entered the hall, and escorted his grandmother out.
The night deepened. And then among the mourners there appeared familiar faces as the clan chiefs of the New Outlanders came into the hall. Liam of the Fiacre, Vanko of the Piaras, Imre of the Tormod, Roan of the Aghy, Floren of the Blathma, Rendor of the Felan, Torin of the Gitta and Accius of the Devyn. Floren had brought with him a magnificent display of flowers from his own fields, which he now set about the bier. Lara wept at the tribute, unable to help herself. With Magnus’s permission she had brought these clans from Hetar where they had been preyed upon by the government there. They had been resettled on the far side of the Emerald Mountains where there had been no inhabitants. The clans of the New Outlands had made the land their own, and had been ever grateful and loyal to Magnus Hauk for his generosity. Now they came to mourn him. The native-born Terahns again nodded at one another favorably.
The night began to wane, and during a brief lull Mila came bringing a cup of Frine Anoush had mixed with strengthening herbs for her mother. Lara was numb with her weariness and sorrow. She went to wave Mila away but then the voice of her guardian spirit, Ethne, chided her gently in the silent language from the crystal star she inhabited that hung around Lara’s slender neck.
Lara took the carved silver goblet from Mila. “Thank you, and tell Anoush I thank her, as well,” she said. Then, putting the cup to her lips, Lara slowly drank its contents. Almost immediately she felt her spirit lighten, and the strength pouring back into her. She almost smiled. Anoush did not have her magic, but she certainly had her own where herbs were concerned. That and the special sight she possessed made the girl very special. But Anoush had a fragile spirit that concerned her mother.
The sun rose. It would be a beautiful day. The crowds of mourners began to thicken once again. And then as the bell tower struck the midday hour sixteen men came to carry the open coffin of the Dominus down to the ship that would carry him on his final journey. The men chosen as coffin bearers were the eight clan chiefs of the New Outlands; Magnus Hauk’s four brothers-in-law Corrado, Tostig, Armen and his wife’s brother, Prince Cirillo of the Forest Faeries; the great Shadow Prince Kaliq; Master Ing, Corrado’s older brother; Fulcrum, Chief of the Jewel Gnomes; and Gultopp, Chief of the Ore gnomes. Each was dressed in deep blue and sky-blue striped breeches topped with tunics of grass-green and short capes fashioned from cloth of gold and cloth of silver. The colors represented the sea that surrounded Terah, the sky above it and the green of its mountains and plains. The cape colors depicted the sun and the moon that shone on Terah. Beside each of the coffin bearers walked a representative from the villages on the seven fjords.
The bearers hoisted the coffin onto their shoulders. Then, led by Lara and the young Dominus, Taj Hauk, they walked with measured cadence to the lift. The wooden boards of it creaked as they all stepped on it. Then the Mountain Giant who operated the lift began to slowly lower the platform. It was so heavy they could hear him grunting with his effort, but finally the platform came to a smooth halt. The coffin bearers stepped from the lift, and led by Lara and Taj Hauk, moved with a dignified rhythm down the long stone quay to the vessel that was tethered at its end.
Lara hardly recognized the ship as the one that had killed her husband. The cracked main mast had been replaced by a straight new spar that was hung with fresh sails. They were not the lavender-colored sails that Terah’s Captain of all Captains, Corrado, favored. These sails were deep purple with starbursts of silver and gold. It was a beautiful boat, and Corrado had personally overseen its construction. Its color was a sparkling white. The glass in its bow cabin window sparkled in the sunlight reflecting the water below it. Its brass railings were polished to a high sheen. And on the prow of the ship had been affixed the figure of a winged faerie in a lavender gown, the fabric of the garment carved to appear as if it were blowing in the wind.
The bearers solemnly marched up the gangway and set the coffin down on the deck midship. The stone quay had been lined with mourners. There were many others crowding the hillsides on both sides of the fjord. Waiting at
