A Distant Tomorrow. Bertrice Small. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Bertrice Small
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
Жанр произведения: Эротическая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408980521
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would surely try to foster a relationship between the cousins. Lara was not certain what to do about that. It seemed sad to deny Cam his place among them, but had not her own mother warned that Cam would be a troublesome child, and a dangerous man?

      AT SUNRISE, Lara awoke surprised, for she had not remembered falling asleep the night before. Stretching she considered the day ahead. Rendor would want to leave today, and she must speak with him before he did. And she, Noss and Liam must decide the time for the new Lord of the Fiacre to move into the lord’s house. It should be soon, for until Liam had made the house his there would be those who would always consider it Vartan’s house—such was the nature of the Fiacre. She sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. First she wanted a bath. Slipping a house robe over her nakedness she slipped through a small door that led outside to a pergola thick with flowering vines that shaded the path to the bathhouse.

       In the hall the servants were already at their daily tasks. With the old lord buried and gone, they returned to their comfortable routine. As they worked they gossiped with one another for they had heard that the new lord would be moving into the house shortly. Was it really true? When? But no one knew, and then Rendor, the lord of the Felan, and new high council leader was coming to the high board, and needed to be fed. Lara joined him shortly afterwards, fresh from her ablutions.

       “You look tired,” Rendor noted as she sat down next to him.

       “I am,” Lara admitted. “I don’t think I have slept well since Vartan’s death.”

       “But now you have the summer ahead with your children,” he remarked.

       “I will come to you before the Gathering,” Lara told him. “Will you escort me to King Archeron’s palace?”

       “Of course,” he said, “but what of the Fiacre?”

       “When the day comes I will leave quietly. It is always best to leave quietly,” Lara said softly. “I will use my magic to come to you. But I would ride to King Archeron’s palace as we once did when Vartan first met him.”

       “You have entrusted me with a great responsibility, Lara,” he said changing the subject.

       “You were the perfect choice, Rendor. You have dignity and you have presence, which will be crucial in dealing with Hetar. First impressions are important with them. If you show them a strong leader they will respect you if for no other reason than the way you appear to them. But you are also wise, and will not be easily fooled by them. If they manage to get through the magic barriers that the Shadow Princes erect around the Outlands, be wary, and put off dealing with them as long as you can. Do not allow them to press you into any quick decisions, my friend. Hetarians are crafty folk,” she concluded with a small smile. “Do not allow their charm and exquisite manners to lull you in a false sense of security. They are not to be trusted.”

       “If the magic barrier is strong, will they be able to get through?” Rendor wondered.

       “The princes said those with no evil intent will pass between the two lands easily. Those who wish to treat with you first will be harmless. And it is better that Hetar not know of the magic that will protect the Outlands from them—at least not right away,” she chuckled. “What the princes have done is to protect the Outlands from a military attack, Rendor. But there are different kinds of invasion. You must beware of a more subtle incursion by Hetar.”

       “You have given me much to consider,” Rendor said.

       “You will have to tell each clan lord before they leave today of the prince’s gift to the Outlands so they will not be afraid. And so that Roan may not frighten them into a war that need not be fought at all,” Lara advised.

       Rendor chuckled. “Roan would be most distressed to learn how well you know him.”

       “Then perhaps it is better we not tell him,” Lara replied with a small smile.

       “If you had not this destiny of yours to follow I think you would have made the Fiacre an excellent clan leader, Lara,” Rendor told her. “You are truly an amazing woman, and it is the Fiacre’s loss that you must leave them.”

       “I have given the Fiacre my counsel for five years now, and I have given them Vartan’s son and daughter. I cannot imagine being here without Vartan. But one day I will return, for this is where I mean to live out my days, Rendor. Keep the Outlands safe for me.”

       “I will try,” he responded, and then he arose. “I must go now. The journey home will not be nearly as easy as it was coming here.” He grinned at her.

       “I suppose I could transport you all back to your lands,” Lara said thoughtfully.

       He laughed. “You would frighten those of my clan who came to pay Vartan homage, and are not used to your magic. No. We will ride home.” He took her hand in his, and putting it first to his heart, then kissed it, bowing to her as he did so. “Farewell, Lara. Rahil and I will look forward to your coming in early autumn.”

       “I will send word before I come,” she promised him as she walked outside to see him off. And then she went to each of the clan lords, bidding them and their clan people farewell, and thanking them for coming to honor Vartan’s life and last journey. Bowing to each group she said the same words. “I appreciate the homage you offered my husband as he departed for the realm of the Celestial Actuary.” She stood as each group departed. Finally, Camdene was as it should be on a midsummer morning. The streets were quiet. The men in the fields tended to the crops and the clan’s herds of cattle. The women went about the business of childcare, housework and gardening. Lara returned to the hall to find Bera awaiting her.

       “We must talk,” her mother-in-law said calmly. But the calm surrounding Bera was so fragile that Lara could almost see it.

       “Come, and sit,” Lara invited the older woman. “Have you eaten?” She brought Bera to the high board, and signaled to a servant to bring food.

       “Everything tastes like sawdust now,” Bera remarked.

       “I know,” Lara agreed as she poured a goblet of wine for Bera.

       Bera drank slowly, and then she set the goblet down. “What is to happen now, Lara?” she asked the young woman in a plaintive tone. “You were Vartan’s wife. These decisions are yours to make now.”

       “I think it best that Liam have this hall that has been for so many years the center of Camdene. I know his father did not rule from here, but both Vartan and his father did,” Lara began. “Now that our people must deal more with Hetar it is important that the clan lord have a fine dwelling. And frankly, Liam and Noss will need a larger house with four children to raise.”

       “Four?” Bera looked confused. “I thought there was but one, and another to come soon. Has my poor mind gone entirely?”

       “Liam and Noss will be raising Dillon and Anoush for me,” Lara said. “I cannot have them living in the same house as Adon’s son, Bera. I am sorry. That is why my children have not been here these past few days, but have remained with Noss. You will be moved to Liam’s house with Cam. You will continue to be respected as Vartan’s mother. You will lack for nothing. But my children will eschew Cam.”

       “But they are cousins,” Bera said.

       “Cam is Adon’s son. Adon killed my children’s father,” Lara replied.

       “And you killed both Adon and Elin,” Bera responded. “You slew Cam’s parents without mercy.” She looked directly into Lara’s green eyes.

       “Aye, I did, and I have not a single regret,” Lara answered, returning the look even as she remembered her mother’s words regarding Bera. “Cam is his parents’ child. Their tainted blood runs in his veins. He will never be free of their curse.”

       “You have a faerie’s cold heart,” Bera said cruelly.

       Lara smiled softly, and nodded. “I do,” she agreed, “but it is for my children. If I did not, I should not be able to do what I must do.