The Shadow Queen

“Kaliq said that everything has happened as it should,” Taj told his mother. “He said my father’s fate and mine were decided upon the day we were born.”

“Did he?” Lara sighed. “I suppose he is right. He is always right, damn him!”

“Will he help us, Mother?” Taj wanted to know.

“If we need him,” she replied.

“Does my grandmother Ilona know of my father’s death?” the boy asked.

“Aye. While you were gone I went to her,” Lara responded. She did not tell her son that her mother, the Queen of the Forest Faeries, had been less than sympathetic.

“Sooner or later your mortal would have died,” Ilona said sanguinely. “Better it happen now than you be forced to see him become old, and as white-haired and grizzled as his own mother is. You have had your children by the men you have loved, Lara. Now for goodness’ sake embrace your faerie heritage fully, and take no more husbands. Lovers are far more satisfactory, and so easily discarded. A husband is generally nothing more than an encumbrance.”

“Is that what you think of Thanos?” Lara asked of her stepfather.

Ilona’s laughter tinkled gaily as she tossed her pale golden hair, and her green eyes twinkled. “Gracious no! Thanos is the perfect husband. He sired a son and heir upon me, and then found an interest that keeps him away from me most of the time. And bless him, he takes lovers to feed his appetite for passion. But unless you wed a man of the magical realm you would not have such latitude. So better you just take lovers from now on, my daughter.”

“Try to be respectful when you come to the Farewell Ceremony, Mother,” Lara had said dryly. “If not for my sake, for Taj’s.”

“Oh never fear, I shall be properly mournful. Magnus Hauk was, after all, a good mortal, and he loved you completely even overlooking your time with Kol, the Twilight Lord,” Ilona said.

Lara had departed her mother’s home at that. Now she looked at her young son. “Your grandmother Ilona was shocked by the accident, and she will be here for the Farewell Ceremony, Taj,” Lara told her son.

The boy nodded. “I am weary,” he told her.

“Go and eat, and then sleep,” Lara said to him. “I will see you in the morning, my darling. While it is my duty to make all the preparations for the Farewell Ceremony, I should appreciate you being by my side, and approving my actions.” Lara put an arm about her son and kissed him softly on his cheek. “Good night, my dearest Taj.”

The boy hugged her hard. “Good night, Mother,” he said and then left her.

Alone. She was alone. How long had Magnus Hauk been dead now? Ten hours? Eleven? Lara felt the tears come again. She had been wed almost twenty years to Magnus Hauk. Her life had become a comfortable round of seasons that had blended into one year, and then another, and another. She had never been bored, and while she waited for the destiny foretold for her to unfold she had been happy. She had been content in his arms, and in this life. Oh, there had been an occasional adventure. But Magnus Hauk was always there waiting when the adventure was over. But now she was alone. Lara sank down upon their bed, and wept bitterly once more.

* * *

KALIQ WATCHED HER from the shadows, and fought back his urge to go to her. To take her into his arms and comfort her. But now was not the time. She needed to vent her grief in this lonely privacy, and then reach deep down into the well of strength he knew she possessed. She would need to be strong for her son. She would need to be strong to convince Magnus Hauk’s family and the religious community of Terah that her late husband’s wishes must be followed at all costs. She was the only one who could aid the young Dominus so that when the danger came he would be strong enough to withstand it.

Still her weeping clawed at his heart. It was rare that a Shadow Prince fell deeply in love, but Kaliq of the Shadows did love the faerie woman, Lara, with every fiber of his being. He had for years. She was his single vulnerability. He wished he might transport them immediately to his desert palace of Shunnar to console her, but, cloaked in his invisibility, he instead stepped near to the bed where she now lay sobbing with her grief. Moving his hand gently above her body from her head to her toes, he set her into a deep and dreamless sleep. Her sadness would not abate, but at least come the morning she would awaken rested, able to face the responsibilities that were now hers.

Her body relaxed. The pitiful sounds of her mourning suddenly ceased. Her breathing grew regular and even. Kaliq smiled to himself as he stood next to Lara’s bed watching her sleep. He considered what would happen next. Hetar, of course, would be involved somehow once word of Magnus Hauk’s death reached them, but how quickly he was not certain. He had already set a watch to see if any among the tiny faerie post folk was a spy, for he was certain there would be one or two subverted by Hetar’s rulers.

Kaliq frowned thinking of Hetar. They had been making great strides toward the equality of its citizenry until recently. The two Shadow Princes currently serving on the High Council had reported that something was disturbing the rhythm of Hetar’s being of late. They had not yet been able to pinpoint it, but they were listening. Still, even unsubstantiated rumors had been scarce. A sure sign that something wicked was being brewed, Kaliq thought. He would speak with Lara soon about this latest development. Neither Terah nor the young Dominus needed to be dragged into Hetar’s problems whatever they turned out to be. The great Shadow Prince bent and kissed Lara’s cheek as she lay on her side, her pale golden hair tousled and spread across the pillows. Sleep well, my love, he told her in the silent language of magical folk. Then he was quickly gone from the chamber.

When the morning came Lara awoke. Her heart ached. With a sigh she encased it in ice. She could show no weakness now. She was faerie, and yet magic had little to do with what she was about to undertake. She arose from her bed feeling well rested, to her surprise. She had dreamed no dreams in the night. Indeed nothing had disturbed her slumbers despite her great grief. How had that happened? And then she smiled to herself. Kaliq, bless him! She had sensed him as she wept for Magnus Hauk, but had not wanted his company. He had understood, of course, and had not intruded upon her physically. But he had, she was certain, given her the gift of restful sleep and Lara was grateful to him for it.

“Mila,” Lara called to her serving woman. “I am ready to bathe.”

Mila appeared looking properly somber. “They are ready for you, Domina. Shall I lay out your garments?”

“Aye. Does everyone in the castle have purple mourning bands for their arms?” Lara wanted to know.

“Aye, Domina, and there are enough for any who come,” Mila informed her lady.

Lara nodded, and then went to her private bath. The serving women were silent, and she was glad. She was not quite ready to deal with anyone else’s sorrow but her own. But the moment she left her own apartments it would be a different matter. When she had completed her ablutions, she returned to her bedchamber and got dressed. Mila had laid out a pale lilac-colored gown trimmed at its round neck, and the cuffs of its round sleeves with an embroidered band of gold threads and tiny violet crystals. The serving woman fastened the deep purple mourning band about her mistress’s upper right arm as Lara slipped her feet into her flat-soled lilac kidskin slippers. Sitting, she let Mila brush her long hair, and then weave it into a thick single plait. Then, standing again, she left her apartment, hurrying to the small family dining chamber where she discovered her five children and her daughter-in-law awaiting her.

“Dillon! Cinnia!” she exclaimed with genuine delight.

Dillon immediately enfolded his mother into his embrace and kissed her cheek. “Are you all right?” he asked tenderly. “This has to have been a terrible shock for you, Mother. I am so sorry. Magnus was a good stepfather to me. We came as soon as Kaliq came to tell us. He says that Grandmother and Cirillo will be here later today.”

Lara felt a brief moment of weakness, but then she returned her son’s kiss. “My faerie heart has turned to ice, Dillon,” she told him. “I cannot believe any of this although I know it is true. Yes, it has been an awful shock.”

“Tell me what happened?” he said gently.

And she told him quietly, dispassionately, of how Magnus Hauk had died.

Dillon said nothing. He just nodded.

“Magnus made them all swear as he lay dying that they would honor my rule,” Lara told her firstborn. “It shall, of course, appear as if Taj is ruling for you know how the Terahns are about women. I do not wish to change their customs, but Magnus knew what would happen if he ordered a regency.”

Dillon laughed briefly. “Aye,” he agreed. “But how will you placate those who see themselves grasping the reins of Terahn power?”

“I intend forming a special group of advisors for the new Dominus,” Lara said. “It is possible some of them may have good ideas, but of course the last word, the final decision, is that of the Dominus.”

“Clever,” Dillon agreed, “but how will they take to having a woman overruling them, Mother?”

“I will remain as much in the background as possible. Marzina says I will be a Shadow Queen. It must appear publicly as if Taj is in firm control of Terah at all times,” Lara explained. “And eventually the council of advisors will actually forget I am even there which is what I want. Magnus’s elder sisters will, of course, want their husbands involved. And I want Corrado. I think it is better to keep this group small and manageable, don’t you? No one but the Dominus’s three uncles.”

“Agreed!” her eldest said. “Will you tell Tostig and Armen the truth?”

“Aye, I will. Whether they tell their wives is, of course, up to them,” Lara said with a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes. “Now if you are through questioning me let us sit down and eat. We have a busy day ahead of us. I must have everything done by the morrow, for it will be my duty to sit at the foot of Magnus’s bier and accept the condolences of all who come until the burning vessel upon which he will take his final voyage is sent off to the sea.” She turned to her daughter-in-law. “Thank you for coming, Cinnia.” Then she looked to her own daughters, and gave them a small smile. “We are together, my daughters, and that is all that is important for now. Taj, take your place at the head of the family table. You are not just the Dominus of Terah now. You are also the master of this household. I will sit in my usual place opposite the Dominus until the day he takes a bride. You, Dillon, will be at your half brother’s right hand.”

“And I will sit at my twin’s left hand,” Marzina spoke up before her mother might say another word.

“You are the youngest of us all,” Zagiri noted, but she did not complain.

“We all share blood,” Marzina replied, “but I share with Taj what none of you shared with him. I shared our mother’s womb.”

“Sit in your place, Marzina,” Lara instructed her daughter quietly. “Anoush and Zagiri, sit on either side of me, and Cinnia will sit next to her husband. Now let us thank the Great Creator for Magnus Hauk, and the time we had with him, and the wonderful memories we share. Let us thank him that we are all together,” Lara said, and everyone in the chamber including the servants bowed their heads.

CHAPTER TWO

MAGNUS HAUK’S TWO older sisters arrived at the castle of the Dominus within moments of each other. Their ships raced each other up the fjord, beneath the morning sunshine, Narda’s vessel reaching the stone dock but a moment before Aselma’s.

“It is as it should be,” Narda told Tostig. “I am, after all, the eldest of our mother’s children.” She walked regally down the gangway onto the pier. “Hurry! I want to get to the lift before my sister does.” Narda attempted to appear as if she were just strolling toward her destination. Tostig had to take large steps to keep up with her.

The Dominus’s castle was built into and above the great cliffs that bordered the fjord. Of dark stone, it was surprisingly graceful and beautiful for such a large structure. Its tower peaks of gray slate soared high into the bright blue sky. Greenery trailed over, and grew up along its terrace walls behind which were beautiful gardens. At the end of the quay was an entrance into the cliffs.

“Look at her! Pretending she isn’t practically running so she can reach our nephew before we do,” Aselma grumbled to Armen as their own ship was tied fast. “Can they not hurry with that damned gangway?”

Armen hid his smile, for it wouldn’t do to have his wife throw a temper tantrum now. She and her sister might scheme all they wanted. What was going to happen next had already been set into motion. He was as shocked as everyone was at the sudden and certainly unexpected death of his brother-in-law, but he instinctively knew that the reins of power in Terah were not meant to rest in either his or Tostig’s hands. Silently he followed his wife down onto the stone pier and walked toward the castle.