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Authors: Bertrice Small

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“I am not a slave who must do your bidding no matter,” Lara said quietly. “When we share pleasures it is because we both desire it. Do not my honest cries of delight please you? Would you have me feign my passion, Magnus? I think not. You are too proud a man for games like that, and I would not offend you by playing them. The day has been long, and I must gather my strength for what lies ahead.” Then she reached up and stroked his face with a gentle hand. “And did we not enjoy each other earlier?”

He caught the hand on his face, and kissed first the palm with burning lips, and then the soft tender spot on her wrist. “I can never gain all I want of you, Lara,” he said low. “There is always a little piece of you that escapes me.”

“It is my faerie nature,” she told him with a mysterious little smile.

“Will I ever have all of you?” he asked her.

“No man ever has everything a woman can offer,” Lara replied. Then she kissed his lips. “Good night, my lord Dominus. May I assume you wish to depart just before the dawn? I shall be ready then.”

He nodded, and watched in silence as she left his apartments. For the first time in his life Magnus Hauk was both fascinated and intrigued by a woman. She had dismissed him, and had any other woman done that he would have punished her severely. Yet Lara’s refusal had not offended him, only surprised him. What was it about the Hetarian woman that attracted him so greatly? He sighed, wondering if he would ever really know. Then because he had no other choice, and desired no other woman in his arms, the Dominus of Terah sought his lonely bed.

Chapter 7

G
AIUS
P
ROSPERO
stood looking down on the City from his vantage point in the Tower of the Celestial. It was the highest man-made structure in all of Hetar, and located in the center of the Golden District. A great flight of stairs that twisted and wound up the inner core of the structure led to a single chamber at its top. A single glass window set between the stones encircled the tower giving Gaius Prospero a perfect view of the city and beyond in any direction he chose to look. There was no record or history of who had built the tower, and if there had once been it had been lost long ago.

Five years ago, following the Winter War, the tower had been crumbling into a ruin when the Master of the Merchants had purchased it, and rebuilt it. He had replaced the pointed slate roof of the building with a copper one overlaid in sheets of beaten gold. Glass blowers had been brought with their equipment to replace the great window. Two new heavy oak doors bound in iron were bought to replace the door at the bottom of the tower, and the one at the top. A single key locked each door, and only Gaius Prospero had that key. No one came into the tower who had not been invited, and so far Jonah was the only one other than Gaius Prospero to gain entry to his master’s private domain.

Now, as the sun sank away for the day, Gaius Prospero sat in a comfortable chair watching for the moon rise. It soothed him to see the pale blue moon of the Midlands slipping into the sky, the twinkle of the stars as they popped into being, one by one. He had been told that in the Outlands all of Hetar’s moons were visible. Now that would be a sight to see! And see it he would eventually.

The Outlands. He needed them. The soil of the Midlands was overworked, and the population of Hetar was growing. It seemed the poor had little else to do but drink Razi and futter their women. And there were too many poor now. Not enough of them died in the winters of late. Gaius Prospero was not an unreasonable man. He knew the poverty assailing Hetar was brought on by many factors. The people were not lazy. Given the opportunity they would work, and work hard. But there was no more work for them in Hetar. They needed the Outlands.

New farms large and small could be opened up, the smaller farms to appease the Squire of the Midlands. But large farms and vineyards would employ the poor, and put more profit into his hands, and those of his allies. The Coastal Kings were filling the markets with their usual supply of consumer goods, but there was not enough coin among the people to buy. The Kings were complaining, and with just cause, although he would not admit that to them. They were too insular, and more often than not behaved as if they were not even part of Hetar. That was going to change, he decided. For one thing the factories that produced those consumer goods had to be made to run more efficiently so the cost to the people be more reasonable so more could be sold. Sooner than later he would strip the Coastal Kings, and the Midlands of their autonomy. He would solidify the power into his hands alone.

He paused in his thoughts to consider the Shadow Princes. They were even more isolated than the Kings. And given their magic, extremely dangerous. It was unlikely he could co-op them into his imperial dreams. No, better to leave them alone, keep them as allies. They would not care as long as Hetar remained at peace, and there was a market for their horses. As for the rough Forest Lords, he had already begun taking some of their lands. Now that he knew their secret—that they could not produce sons on Forest women, but had to use slave women from elsewhere—he had them in the palm of his hand. The proud Forest Lords wanted no one knowing that their vaunted racial purity no longer existed. Gaius Prospero laughed. The fools!

His facile mind slipped back to the Outlands. He had spies there already. He knew from the Taubyl Traders that the lands were rich for growing, and for grazing. He imagined the flocks and herds that would come into Hetar’s hands sooner than later. And the mines in the Purple Mountains would again be his. And the slaves they would gather! Many of the men would die, of course, in the war to come. But there would be women and children to be gathered up. They would have to be careful that the slave markets were not too full lest their prices be driven down.

And among those slaves would be the faerie woman, Lara. He hated her for defeating him. Yet he desired her with a lust such as he had never known. And he would have her! Oh, yes! He would! She would be brought to him naked. And he would have her spread upon his bed, her arms and legs tied to prevent her escape. Her luscious mouth would be gagged at first to prevent her speaking any spells against him. And he would touch her with his hands, his lips, his tongue, his cock. He would rub passion lotion on her until she was afire with her own lust, and unable to help herself. Then he would remove the gag, and she would beg him for pleasures. And eventually he would concede. But not before he had kissed her lips until they were purple and bruised. Not before he had filled her mouth with his cock, and made her suck him dry. But it wouldn’t be enough for her. Faerie women were known for their very, very passionate natures.

And he would make her beg again while he enjoyed a restorative. Then he would call in Vilia and Anora, and he would amuse himself watching the three women make love. Anora would be jealous. She would want to punish Lara. And they would. Together. And finally he would fuck the faerie woman until she was screaming with the greatest pleasures she had ever known, would ever know. He would make her his personal love slave. And she would use her magic for him alone. Gaius Prospero sighed deeply with his daydreams of victory, acquisition and lust. Was not such conquest all of one piece? He wondered if Lara believed herself and the Outlands now safe from him. Did she ever think of him, he wondered vainly?

At that moment he would have been disappointed to know that Gaius Prospero was furthest from her thoughts.

E
ARLY
IN
THE
MORNING
,
before the dawn, Lara went to the stables in the company of Sirvat, who was very curious to meet Dasras. The great golden horse did not disappoint. He greeted his mistress warmly and with respect. “And this is the Dominus’s sister, who I am pleased to call friend,” Lara introduced the young woman. Dasras made his bow, and greeted Sirvat politely.

“Greetings, great lady,” he said to her.

“He really does talk!” Sirvat squealed.

“Of course I speak, lady. Did not my mistress say I did? She never prevaricates,” Dasras assured Sirvat. “You are quite a pretty young woman,” he noted.

Sirvat blushed at the compliment, replying, “And you are most gallant, Dasras. I hope we will have the opportunity to speak again, but I know my brother is anxious to depart. Farewell, and a safe journey.” Hugging Lara, she hurried from the stables.

Lara had not left the Dominus’s home since the day she arrived, and she had seen little of Terah other than what she could view from the castle windows. They rode out together with only a small escort of armed men. The road they traveled hung high above the fjord, curling slowly up as they went. The castle, she realized, was totally impregnable. Who had built it? she wondered. The longer she was in Terah the more questions she seemed to have, and the fewer answers were available to her.

They began to move inland away from the fjord. Everywhere Lara looked, the land was green. It was a rich and lush land, yet she saw no sign of habitation, mortal or domesticated creatures. Magnus had said their villages created the goods that were traded with the Coastal Kings, but where were those villages? Was this beauty an illusion? Was there something dangerous in this land?

“Where are your villages?” she finally asked the Dominus.

“They are scattered along the fjords,” he answered her.

“Why are there no villages here?” she questioned him. “This is fertile land. Is there something wrong with it not visible to the naked eye?”

“Our living comes from the goods we manufacture,” he explained. “Terah is a vast expanse, as you can see. By remaining near the fjords we are able to travel back and forth more easily with our wares. Ships sailing to meet with the Hetarians sail only from the fjord below my castle. All the goods are carefully catalogued, the registers kept within the castle. I pay the villages for the commodities they make and bring me, and they receive a share of the profits when the ships return.”

“But what of their livestock? Have you no cattle, sheep or horses?” she queried.

“Each village has its herds and flocks,” he replied. “They are kept in the meadows around and above the villages.”

“How many Terahns are there, my lord Dominus?” Lara wanted to know.

“I have never counted,” he told her with a laugh.

“How many villages?” she pressed him.

Magnus Hauk though a moment. “I am not certain,” he admitted. “Why are you so curious?”

“My lord Dominus, you are the possessor of miles and miles of fertile land, yet there is no one making use of the land,” Lara said. “You are the ruler of this place, and yet you have no idea of how many people you rule, or how many villages exist. I find this most strange. Do you not care?”

He considered his words before he spoke and then he replied to her. “We are a peaceful land, Lara. There is no want of any kind here. All of my people have homes in which to shelter from the elements. All of them are well fed. We have a purpose to keep our hands and our minds busy. We take and enjoy pleasures with one another. What more is there to life that that?”

“In Hetar—” she began, but he raised a hand to stop her.

“We are not Hetar,” he said softly.

“You are more like the Outlands,” she told him. “I was happier there than in Hetar. Yet, I see this land that if cultivated could feed Hetar, and stop the want in that land.”

“You have a good heart, faerie woman,” he said.

“There are changes coming,” Lara said to him. “Soon you will not be able to retain your isolation, my lord Dominus.”

“An ocean separates us from the world of Hetar, and only the Coastal Kings know of our existence,” he said. “I do not like change.”

“No one is fond of change, especially great change,” Lara agreed, “but change will come, my lord Dominus, whether we want it or not. The advantage is in seeing the coming changes first, and controlling them so they do not run rampant and control
you,
” she explained with a smile.

“Can you help me to control these changes you say are coming?” he asked.

Lara nodded. “I can,” she told him. “But first we must see if we can undo the curse of the sorcerer, Usi.”

“The temple we are visiting was once his home,” the Dominus explained. “He was one of the priests, but he was seduced by an evil spirit, and turned from the light to the darkness. Ever since, the forces of the Great Creator have eschewed magic.”

“Yet you would bring a half-faerie woman into their midst?” she asked surprised. “And one whose voice they will be able to hear and understand?”

“My uncle, who has already been elected to succeed the High Priest, is forward in his thoughts, Lara. I will speak with him first. There is a guest house on the temple grounds, and you will remain there until I have spoken with Arik.”

“Does the temple receive women guests as a rule?” she wanted to know.

“Aye,” he nodded. “They do. Women are not denied the opportunity to worship.”

“But they rarely come to this temple, do they?” There was a small smile playing at her lips. She had learned a great deal from Sirvat in the early morning.

“You know we keep our women protected because of what we have viewed as their weakness,” the Dominus said. “But now and again women are brought to the temple to worship. And there is a woman’s order associated with this temple.”

“I know. Sirvat told me,” Lara said, and then she changed the subject completely. “I cannot get over how beautiful this land is, my lord. The shades of green are infinite.”

“Are not the Outlands green?” he asked.

“Aye, but not like this,” she told him. “The plain of the Outlands is a great grassy expanse that seems to go on forever. Now and again there are trees in small groves, or singly. And the purple mountains bordering three sides of it.” She gazed ahead. “Ah, I see you have mountains, too. Are they as deserted as your plains?”

“Nay. There are a few mines in the mountains, quarried by mountain gnomes. They are solitary folk. Twice yearly they come to the castle bringing with them their gold, silver and gemstones, some of which is tribute to the Dominus, and the majority of which I distribute to certain villages who have smiths in gold, silver and gems. I pay the gnomes in the goods they need, or simply desire. We respect the mountains, and the gnomes in turn respect the Dominus.”

“So, that is where you obtain the materials for the fine goods that are sold in Hetar,” Lara noted. “Where do the beautiful fabrics you trade come from, my lord?”

“Other villages. Some cultivate the worm who spins the threads for the silken fabrics. Others raise sheep for fine wool. Several villages are devoted entirely to only the design and weaving of these fabrics. Others are in charge of the dyeing. Every one of my villages has a specialty so that no hands are idle, and all have a trade.”

“Do your people never leave their villages?” Lara wondered. “The Outlands clan families meet each autumn at the Gathering to celebrate, and visit back and forth.”

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