Lara (30 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Lara
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“No!” Lara cried. “You do not understand! My father is a great swordsman, but without the means to advance himself into the Crusader Knights he was doomed to remain in the Quarter. My baby brother would have had no future at all. Nor would I, for there was no coin for my dowry. He had nothing of value but for me. The monies Gaius Prospero paid for me allowed my father to dress himself properly, to obtain new weapons, and fine armor. We knew he would win his tournament matches if his application could just be accepted, but it would not have been unless he appeared worthy. My father is a good man, Master Bashkar, and I was proud to be able to aid him.”

“His great skills with his weapon should have made him more than worthy, Lara. Men should be judged by what they can do, and for no other reason,” Master Bashkar said. “A fine appearance will not aid him on the battlefield, my child. You were the treasure your faerie mother gave him in return for his love. Yet he used you badly.”

“My father did not desert me, Master Bashkar. If my mother had remained with us, could not her faerie magic have aided my father to gain his goal sooner? But she did not. I was but a few months old when she left us for another lover.”

“She loved you, my child. Did she not put that chain and star crystal about your neck to keep you safe from harm? A faerie woman who gives a mortal man a child does not leave them without great cause.”

Lara was more confused than she had ever been as she listened to Master Bashkar’s words. Her whole life she had been told of how thoughtless and cruel Ilona had been. How she had ensorcelled her father as a youth, given the love-struck boy a half faerie child, and then recklessly left him to satisfy her carnal faerie nature, thereby breaking his heart. Had not her grandmother, Ina, said it often enough? And her father had never disagreed. Indeed, he spoke of Ilona as little as possible, and when he did the look in his eyes was painful to see. When she had been naughty as a child, Ina had often warned her she must not allow her mother’s wicked faerie nature to overcome her. Now, however, she was being asked to embrace that nature, and unable to help herself, she was. And what’s more, she found she liked that part of her that was faerie. But still she could not reconcile herself to a faerie mother who cared so little for her that she deserted her. She would never forgive Ilona. And her father was a good man, no matter what Master Bashkar said. The Master was an old man, and he did not understand the complexities of life in the City.

The winter passed, and spring came to the Desert. For the first time Kaliq took Lara from the palace. The rains had come for a brief time to the sands, and the Desert was abloom with a carpet of flowers. Lara was amazed by them as they rode forth.

“How can this be?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “It is an aberration of nature,” he told her. “They will be gone in a few days, and then the sands will stretch golden again for as far as the eye can see. Each year at this time the flowers come into bloom. When they begin to die we will gather the fading blossoms to make potions and medicines from their seeds and petals.”

When they returned to the palace within the cliffs, Lara was suddenly aware of how stifling it was in comparison to the great Desert. The urge to leave the Shadow Princes was suddenly tugging at her. She forced it back. She must remain the year and a day to be truly free. And where else would she go that she could be as safe? Og was more than content working with the prince’s horses. He had friends among the other servants who were not intimidated by his size. She rarely saw him now but in passing. But she had her lessons with Master Bashkar, and she had Noss. And Kaliq instructed her each night in the arts of passion. Lara enjoyed his lessons best of all.

The months passed, and then one day when she had been within the Shadow realm for almost a year, the grandmother she had never known, Maeve, queen of the Forest Faeries, arrived in Kaliq’s dining hall one evening in her usual puff of lavender mist. She was barely visible, yet seeing her, the Shadow Princes came to their feet and bowed low. Kaliq came forward to lead her to a seat. He put a goblet of wine in her hand.

She drank from it, and her image strengthened. She was a beautiful creature even in her decline. Lara could but imagine what she had been like in her prime. Maeve was tall, and gracefully slender. She had silver hair like spun sugar that billowed gently about her now-thin face. Her pale green eyes were alert and sharp, sweeping about the room and taking in all. A once-full mouth was now thin with age, but there was a sweetness to it; her nose was straight and in perfect proportion to the rest of her face. She gave the impression of great fragility, but Lara sensed it was actually great strength. Maeve was garbed in elegant garments of forest-green and gold brocade, a golden torque about her slim neck. As Lara stared at her grandmother, her features faded slightly, but when the faerie queen drank again from the goblet in her beringed hand, the image was restored. It grew even stronger when she spoke to him. “Why have you summoned me, Kaliq of the Shadow realm?”

“I have that which you have longed for most, great Maeve,” he said. “I have your granddaughter, Lara, only child of your daughter, Ilona.”

Maeve’s glance swept the hall at his words, and when they reached Lara a strangely sweet smile lit her aristocratic features. “Lara!” She breathed the word, and stood. Then unable to remain upon her feet she sat down heavily upon the bench, holding out her hand to the girl.

Unable to resist the soft call, Lara arose and came to kneel by the faerie queen’s side. “I am here, grandmother,” she said. A wave of tenderness swept over her.

Maeve reached out, and caressed Lara’s face. Her touch was like being brushed by butterfly wings, the girl thought. The delicate hand fingered Lara’s gilt hair. Then her fingers tilted the girl’s face upward, and Maeve stared into Lara’s green eyes. Lara felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck her. She immediately felt the bond of kinship with the faerie. “Ilona’s child,” Maeve said. Then looking away from her granddaughter, she turned her gaze again on Kaliq. “How?” she demanded.

The Shadow Prince recited Lara’s tale, and Maeve nodded again and again as he spoke. He concluded by saying, “I have sheltered her, and taught her since she came, great Maeve. I know she will not remain with me for much longer, but I know how much you have longed to know her. I am glad you have come.”

“I must summon my daughter,” Maeve responded. “She must see her child.”

“No!” Lara cried. “I do not want to see her! How can I ever forgive her for leaving us, grandmother? Forgive me if I hurt you, for I hold no ill will toward you, but I cannot see she who broke my father’s heart when she deserted him for another lover.”

The faerie queen’s image flickered, and dimmed slightly. She quickly downed the contents of her cup, and was restored to their sight. “Your mother did not leave your father for another man, Lara. That is but what she told him so he should not attempt to dissuade her from her fate again. Your mother has always been my chosen. She will become queen of the Forest Faeries when I am finally faded away. My time grows short now. I needed her back in my own kingdom that she might learn her duties. She could no longer live in both your father’s world and ours. It was her duty to return, and your mother has always known how to do her duty, no matter how painful. Several times she came to see you, but neither your father, nor your father’s mother would permit her access to you. They said it was better for you. That seeing you, and then departing again would but confuse a child. Ilona finally accepted their wishes, though it pained her greatly. Were you not told this when you were grown, Lara?”

The girl shook her head slowly. “My father rarely spoke of my mother,” she said. “It was my grandmother, Ina, who told me of my heritage.”

“And slandered your mother in the process, I have not a doubt,” Maeve said in dark tones.

“I’m sure she never meant to,” Lara attempted to protect her father’s dead mother, who had raised her so lovingly.

Maeve sniffed in disbelief, but said nothing further. Her granddaughter had been deliberately misled into believing that her faerie kin did not love her. It was intolerable! And so very human. “You look exactly like your mother,” she remarked. “And your mother must see you. I shall summon her now. You will treat her with kindness, Lara, for she has suffered, too. She loved your father. Still loves him, if the truth be known.”

“He took another wife two years ago,” Lara said. “I have a half brother.”

“His love of her then was not as constant as hers for him,” Maeve murmured scornfully. “But then I warned her that humans are a feckless lot.”

“If you dislike humans so then why bother to remain here, or summon my mother? If she is used to the idea that I am gone from her life, why wound her if you love her?” Lara said angrily. She stared defiantly at the beautiful old faerie queen.

Maeve laughed. “That temper you possess, girl, is both human and faerie. I do not dislike humans, Lara. Indeed, some of my favorite lovers were humans, and I spawned seven half faerie children in my day. Your mother, however, was born of my union with a faerie lord called Tiburon, who was my chosen mate. He has long faded away into the next life, but you should know who your grandfather was.” She turned to Kaliq. “I am not strong enough to reach out to Ilona. Will you do it for me?”

He nodded, and then he poured more wine into her goblet. “Drink, Queen Maeve, and I will bring your daughter to you. I suspect you will need a certain amount of strength for the meeting shortly to take place between Ilona and your granddaughter. Listen, but do not involve yourself in their affairs lest you shorten what time you have remaining here.”

Maeve reached out again to Lara, taking the girl’s face between her hands. “I have not lied to you, Lara. What I have said is the truth. Be kind to your mother. If you have any care for your faerie heritage, remember that Ilona gave you life, and while she could not be with you she gave you Ethne to watch over you. I am sorry the crystal guardian could not prevent your time with the Forest Lords, my granddaughter.”

“I had heard you had no other grandchildren but me,” Lara responded. “Yet you have had other children. Have they not wed, and taken mates?”

“My other children, five sons and two daughters, were killed in the war that ensued between the Forest Faeries and the Forest Lords following the murder of the unfortunate Nixa. They fired the portion of the woodland where we had our halls because they were angry at the curse I placed upon them. Your mother was born in the time after we had retreated deep into the Forest, where we could not be found by those violent men.”

“If I had given them a child,” Lara said, “could it have reversed the curse?”

Maeve laughed scornfully. “Not even I could reverse that curse. I was very angry. The curse was strong and irrevocable. What madness possessed them to believe that they might reverse it by getting offspring on half faerie girls I do not know. Yet you had to pass through their world, and treat with them for it is your fate.”

“Everyone keeps saying it is my fate to do this, and to do that, but I do not understand at all,” Lara grumbled. “What is this fate you all prate about?”

“I cannot tell you, Lara, for your fate is yours to unravel as you go through life,” Maeve said. “You may change that fate, or not, but it must proceed in an orderly manner. That is the will of the Celestial Actuary.”

Lara shook her head. “I do not understand at all,” she replied.

“It is not the hour for you to understand,” Maeve answered her, “but in time you will. I charted your stars the night you were born, for I was present at your birth, and even then much was hidden from me. You have a destiny, Lara, and it is for greatness. That much I know. That much I can share with you.”

Another clap of thunder sounded in the banqueting hall, and Ilona appeared in a mist of royal purple. Not looking at anyone else, she hurried to her mother’s side. Everyone was astounded at how much she resembled her daughter. “What is it, Mother, that you have had me summoned?” she asked.

Maeve raised a slender hand, and pointed at Lara with a thin finger.

Ilona turned and stared. Surprise and shock suffused her features. She could not speak at first. She was hard-pressed to even believe the evidence of her own eyes. This was her daughter! This was Lara! But how?

“Greetings, Mother.” Lara finally broke the spell. “It has been some time since we last met.” There was an edge of irony in the girl’s voice.

Ilona heard it, and bit her lip. What could she possibly say to the daughter she had left behind sixteen years ago? “You are beautiful.”

“They claim I am your image, and I will admit that seeing you is like peering into a looking glass,” Lara replied. “It has been both a blessing and a curse to bear this beauty, and yet be half human, Mother. It would have been easier had you been there.”

“I could not be!” Ilona cried. Then, reaching out for Lara’s hand, she transported them into a private place away from the hall. “I will not speak with you of these things amid a crowd of strangers, Lara. I did not leave you willingly.”

“Grandmother says it was because you could not live in both worlds any longer,” Lara replied. “Then why did you not take me with you?”

“Your father begged me to leave you with him, Lara. I could not refuse him. I loved John. I always have loved him,” Ilona said. “And I came back several times to see how you grew, but Ina would not allow it. She said you must be raised to live in the world in which they inhabited and not dwell upon things faerie. Finally she asked me not to return at all, and your father agreed. I was defeated.”

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