Zagiri, her third child, had survived her husband, Lord High Ruler Jonah, although Jonah had managed to live into his eighties. Frail of body but astute of mind, he had ruled with an iron hand, bringing Hetar back to its former prosperity. And Zagiri had never stopped loving him or supporting him in all he did. Though almost thirty years younger than Jonah, Zagiri had not lived long after her husband had died. It had always surprised Lara that her beautiful golden child, Magnus Hauk’s daughter, had followed Jonah so quickly, so easily. But then Zagiri had never had an ounce of magic in her.
As for Marzina, Lara’s youngest child, she had grown into an incredibly beautiful girl. And having spent two years with the Daughters of the Great Creator to learn self-discipline, Marzina had gone to her grandmother, Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, again, to learn how to properly use her magic. Then Kaliq had spent two years tutoring her. She was incredibly talented, being the child of two magical creatures, although Marzina had always believed that Magnus Hauk, her mother’s second husband, was her father. And thanks to Ilona, no one had ever questioned that Taj’s twin sister was so unlike him, being dark-haired while Taj was blond.
Marzina now spent a good deal of time in the forests of Hetar or the mountains of Terah for she and her mother did not always get along. Lara saw in her youngest child what others did not. She saw a ribbon of darkness that frightened her. The black blood of Kol, the former Twilight Lord who had sired her, could not be denied. It ran hot in Marzina’s veins along with a streak of faerie cruelty she had inherited from her grandmother. When Marzina had attained sixteen mortal years she had even attempted to seduce Kaliq. He had put her off, but things were never again the same between mother and daughter. Marzina quickly knew she had overstepped herself, and she blamed Kaliq. But Lara knew her lover and life mate far better than Marzina did, and she was not certain she could ever forgive her daughter’s lapse, although Kaliq did.
Lara sighed again. Her world was on the edge of something, but she did not know what, nor could she gain any preglimpse of it yet. Rising from the chair where she had been seated, Lara walked out into her gardens. She now lived in the southwest tower of the castle. Praise the Great Creator that it faced the fjord, and she didn’t have to gaze down upon Dominum as her grandson had dictated the town be called. It was modeled on The City. But of course few Terahns had ever seen The City. The royal Terahn architect had relied on Ambassador Amren’s description of Hetar’s capitol. Lara had visited it once, but it was nothing like The City as she remembered it. Dominum was a monument to excess with large building fashioned from marble quarried in the Emerald Mountains.
Both the Ore and Jewel gnomes had objected to this incursion onto their lands. But they were now fewer in number than ever before and could only protest vocally. Lara had spoken to her grandson, the Dominus Amhar, reminding him that the precious metals and jewels the gnomes mined were the raw materials Terah’s artisans needed for their jewelry and metalwork. If the gnomes refused to go into their mines, Terah would have no work for export to Hetar. She convinced the Artisans and Metalworkers Guilds to support her endeavor. The Dominus Amhar was not pleased to be chastised by the beautiful woman who was his grandmother. But the guild chiefs were another matter entirely. Amhar sent to the gnomes apologizing for intruding upon their lands without first asking, and requesting their permission to quarry for another two months. With his messenger went a dozen barrels of fine wine and six casks of oysters packed in ice. The gnomes grudgingly agreed. The damage was already done to a portion of their mountains.
And so Dominum was raised up with three broad avenues running north to south and three broad avenues that crossed them running east to west. The buildings, however, were mostly empty for the only government was the Dominus and he ruled from his castle. The council formed by Magnus Hauk had been dissolved decades ago by Dominus Taj. How Lara had argued with her son over that, but as Taj had pointed out, there was no need for a council. It had been an experiment and nothing more.
Terahns were used to one form of rule. They wanted no changes made. Their Dominus was good enough for them. It was his duty to make the decisions, not the people. Lara realized that Taj’s grandmother, and his three uncles whom she had appointed to be his council had done their job well while she had been off saving their worlds. Her son had been turned into a proper Terahn Dominus from the old school, and she hadn’t seen it until it was far too late. And her grandson and great-grandson had followed Taj in maintaining the ancient traditions.
When her mother-in-law had lain dying, she had advised Taj on the sort of wife he should take. A well-brought-up Terahn girl who knew her place, which was in the background, and her duty, which was to give Taj children. And Taj, despite Lara’s best efforts, had followed the advice given by Lady Persis. Lara could only silently despair. She considered if Magnus Hauk had listened to his mother Terah would never have been free of the curse of Usi, and it would have probably been conquered by Hetar or the Twilight Lord. But from the moment Magnus had died the Terahns had subtly worked their influence on Lara’s son. Perhaps had she been with him more it would not have happened, but there were so many problems that needed to be solved in those days. And it was the magic inhabitants of the world of Hetar who fought to save it.
So Taj had grown up, and married a suitable Terahn wife. Vineeta was pretty enough to keep her son interested long enough to sire the required children. Amhar had been born ten months after the marriage. He was followed by his two sisters, Elvyne and Casperia. Amren, the younger son, had been the fourth, born eight years later, and was followed the next year by Taj’s youngest daughter, Mauhault.
But while offering her mother-in-law outward respect, the young Domina Vineeta found it disquieting that her husband’s mother looked as though she could be one of her own companions. The daughter of a wealthy widower, she had been chosen by Taj’s aunts Anselma and Narda to be Taj’s wife. Motherless, she looked to them for advice. As neither of Magnus Hauk’s two older sisters had liked Lara, their opinions drove Vineeta’s attitude toward her mother-in-law. Taj’s youngest aunt, the Lady Sirvat, Lara’s best friend, had attempted to heal the growing breach, but the damage was done.
Anselma and Narda whispered a stream of ignorance and prejudice into Vineeta’s small ear. Vineeta had believed it all. She kept her children from their grandmother, clutching them to her dramatically when Lara entered the nursery. The children sensed that something was wrong, and grew to fear the beautiful golden-haired woman who came to see them. Eventually they became so hysterical at the mere sight of Lara that after complaining to her son, Lara had stayed away.
“Children are like that, Mother,” the Dominus Taj told her. “They have their shy moments even with their parents.”
“I have birthed enough children to know what they are like,” Lara had replied sharply. “Those two harpies who are your father’s older sisters have taught Vineeta to fear me, and she in turn teaches my grandchildren. Amhar actually hissed at me and made a sign with his hands, which I imagine he has been told is something to ward off evil. I’m afraid I laughed at him, which sent him into a flood of tears and shrieking as he ran from me.”
“It is a phase,” Taj defended his oldest son.
“It is prejudice,” Lara said quietly. “You have no magic in you, Taj, but you are still the son of a faerie woman. Be glad you are an ordinary mortal for if you were not you would face what I now face. It was never so in your father’s time. Or perhaps it was, and your father protected me for he loved me. I am your mother, my lord Dominus, and that alone should command respect. But if your wife and aunts are allowed to treat me so shabbily, then your children will, too. Once you stood by my side against those who would mistreat me. You no longer do. It saddens me, but I will always love you even if I no longer like you,” Lara told her son, and by the shocked look upon his face she knew she had made her point.
But she could not, would not stand between Taj and Vineeta. She would not demand that he make a choice between his mother and his wife. That was a mortal