with her father, seated before him on his saddle. It was two days’ travel to the site, and when they arrived the Fiacre found two of the clan families just arrived, the Felan and the Aghy. Roan of the Aghy came forward to help Lara from her saddle, his hands lingering about her waist just a moment longer than they should have. She laughed down at him and shook her finger in remonstrance. He grinned back. Magnus Hauk glared at the Horse Lord but as always Roan of the Aghy wasn’t in the least intimidated. He stepped forward, shook the Dominus’s hand and bid him welcome to the Gathering.
Eventually all the clan families arrived, and for the next few days they feasted and socialized with one another. The annual meeting of the New Outlands High Council was held but there was virtually nothing to report. After several years the clan families had put down deep roots and were content to be freed from the threat of Hetar. In a short ceremony each of the clan families paid their annual tribute to the Dominus, who accepted it graciously.
Afterwards, Magnus asked his wife, “Should we tell them of Hetar’s planned aggression against Terah?”
“Nay, not yet,” Lara said. “If we need to confer later with the clan lords we can bring them to our castle, but the Icy Season is coming. It is unlikely that Hetar will cross the Sagitta until spring. We have the watchtowers on the heights to warn us of any approaching vessels. We have an army now that is well trained. The Emerald Mountain Range separates us from the New Outlands. There is no need to fret the clan families, but I would tell one of the lords. Rendor should know.”
“Not Roan? He is the warlord of the clan families.”
“That is true,” Lara agreed, “but if you tell Roan, it will not remain a secret, for he will immediately begin planning for a battle that may never come. To plan a battle he needs to recruit more troops and then the secret is out. Nay, Roan need not know, but Rendor must, for he is the High Lord of the High Council. If we need to call upon the clan families he should be aware in advance of that possibility.” She sighed. “I regret having to place this burden upon him but it would seem we have no choice, my lord.”
The Dominus nodded. “Speak with him then, Lara,” he said.
“Will you not be by my side when I do?” she asked softly.
“If you wish it,” he replied, “but it is you that the clan families revere, my love. They have accepted me as their overlord only because I am your husband.”
“You are the Dominus of Terah, Magnus Hauk. Who and what I am or what I have done for the clan families would not matter were it not for your generosity in allowing them to be relocated here. They do not forget that you are lord of this all. Nor do I,” Lara said quietly. She well knew her husband’s dignity and pride in his position. She would not damage it or allow anyone else to. “You are a good ruler, my lord.”
He smiled down at her. She was clever and generous of heart, his faerie wife.
“Thank you,” was all he said.
They sought out Rendor of the Felan, and together told him that Hetar was considering a war against Terah.
“Why?” was the first thing Rendor wanted to know. He had ever been a practical man. “Is not the Outlands enough territory for him that he must cross a sea to war with a peaceful people?” Rendor shook his grizzled head. “Gaius Prospero was ever a fool.”
“But a dangerous fool,” Lara said. “He is like a child standing before a large sweet who wants every bit of it for himself. He knows he cannot devour it all, yet his eyes are too big for his stomach and he must attempt it nonetheless. This emperor knows naught of Terah, but he has convinced Hetar that we pose a threat because I am the Domina. He bleats that my magic threatens them all, and preaches war.”
“Can he take Terah?” Rendor wanted to know. He was a shrewd man who knew that if Hetar took Terah they would be unlikely for many years, if ever, to come over the mountains. Hetarians were not adventurous folk by nature. Greedy. Overproud. Tradition bound. Aye. But they were not by nature explorers.
“He cannot take Terah,” the Dominus said firmly. “But unless he can be dissuaded from his path he will cause great misery, mostly in Hetar.”
“He has converted many of the Coastal Kings’ trading vessels into ships of war,” Lara said. “But his naval force of men, but for the officers, is conscripted and not well trained. I can put up a fog bank to keep him at bay if he actually has the nerve to set sail.
“And the fjords can all be blocked to prevent his sailing up them. The cliffs descend directly to the beach below, and the beaches are only narrow strips of sand covered by water in high tide. Without a way up he will be caught.”
“And we may shoot them easily from the heights with our bows and arrows,” Rendor replied with a grin. “It will be like wolf-hunting season,” he chuckled.
The Dominus laughed. “Aye, just like wolf-hunting season,” he agreed. “I am relieved that you are not distressed by this news, Rendor, but I do apologize for burdening you with this information.”
Rendor shook his head. “Nay, it is better I am kept fully informed in this matter. I will keep it secret from the others, for there is no need for them to know about something that might not come to pass. Roan would want to prepare for a war that at this moment does not exist. And Floren of the Gitta would start to dither about some new species of plant or tuber he didn’t want destroyed by an invading army.”
Lara laughed. “Yes, Floren would indeed dither,” she agreed.
“In that case we will return to Terah on the morrow,” the Dominus said. “I am, I fear, a man who enjoys his comforts and I long for my own bed.”
“No more than I do,” Rendor said with a grin. Then he embraced Lara, kissing her on both cheeks. “I will look forward to seeing you at the next Gathering,” he told her.
“You could see me before then,” she reminded him. “Next year we will stay in your hall with you and your wife, Rahil.”
“We shall be honored,” Rendor replied. Then he bowed to Magnus and Lara. “Farewell, my lord, my lady Lara. The Celestial Actuary keep you safe.”
“And the Great Creator keep you safe, Rendor,” Magnus Hauk responded.
Rendor left them.
“I will go and gather up the children,” Lara said. “Tomorrow they will return home and their schooling must begin anew.”
They found Dillon watching over his little sister, Zagiri, but Anoush was not with them. When Lara asked where her eldest daughter might be, Dillon frowned.
“Cam sought her out,” he said.
Lara swore softly beneath her breath. “Do you know where they are?” she asked her son. “Could you not stop her from going off with him?”
“Nay, I could not,” Dillon answered quietly. “It is time that Anoush learned to control her own actions. She knows you do not approve of Cam.”
Lara grimaced. Dillon was right, of course, but there was something about being lectured by one’s young son that grated on her nerves. “At least save me the trouble of stamping about the encampment,” she said.
The boy grinned at her. “There is a stream on the edge of the camp, Mother. You will find them there,” he said.
Lara hurried off. Her first instinct was to turn Cam into a snake but if she did he would probably bite someone and poison them. She had won Anoush back last year and she was not going to let Adon and Elin’s son spoil that. She would not confront the boy, for that was precisely what he wanted of her. He was not capable of driving a wedge between Lara and Anoush. Only she could do that if she acted foolishly. Spying her older daughter, she called to her.
Anoush turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, looking guilty that she had been caught. But to the little girl’s surprise Lara did not scold her. Instead her mother put a loving arm about her and smiled.
“’Tis time for us to leave, my darling,” she said in a sweet voice. “Good morrow, Cam. Sholeh tells me you are becoming a fine cattle herder.” Lara looked down at her daughter. “Magnus, your brother and sister are waiting for us, Anoush. The Learning Season begins in a few days and you need to be ready. Say goodbye to your cousin now, and let us go.” Her arm remained about her daughter’s thin shoulders.
“I don’t know why you have to live in Terah,” Cam said, his tone sulky. “Isn’t the New Outlands good enough for you and your brother anymore? You are Fiacre, not Terahn, after all.”
“Oh, but Cam, Dillon and I are half-Terahn. We love the castle of the Dominus. We are happy to be living again with our mother and our stepfather is good to us. And we are learning so much. I actually love the Learning Season.
