“You may,” Taj replied formally. “I thank you.” Then, remembering, he said, “See my words are published this day throughout the kingdom from the Sea of Sagitta to the Obscura in the New Outlands.”
“It will be as you wish, my lord Dominus.” And, bowing, the chief scribe backed out of the throne room.
“It was nicely done,” Lara said, stepping from behind the tall throne where she had been hidden listening. “And now Ampyx will gossip among the other scribes about the strength of the young Dominus. And they will gossip to their friends and families. It is a good start, Taj.” She held out her arms to him, and he immediately went into them.
“I am so afraid, Mother,” he admitted to her. “Dictating an announcement was easy. Ruling a land is not. Where do I even begin?”
“You begin where your father left off. Rebuilding our merchant fleet ship by ship. Your father wanted our ships to be able to defend themselves, especially now that the secret of our existence is well-known throughout Hetar. The Hetarians have not yet breached our shores. They tried once and failed, but sooner or later they will attempt it once more, my son. You are a boy ruler. Untried. There will be those even here in Terah who will seek to undermine you. You must be strong from this first day, and show no weakness. You are Magnus Hauk’s son.” Lara felt her voice quiver when she said his name. How long had he been dead now? Two hours? Three? She kissed her son’s cheek. His face was smooth, not yet roughened by adulthood. Then she released him from her embrace.
“Where is my father’s body?” Taj asked.
“It has been taken to the Farewell House to be processed for the ceremony,” Lara answered her son. She found it difficult to look at him now, for Taj Hauk was his father’s image. At thirteen he was already at least three inches taller than Lara. He had his father’s long nose, high cheekbones and thin lips. Like Magnus his short hair was dark gold with lighter gold highlights, and his eyes his sire’s turquoise-blue. Suddenly it hurt her heart to gaze upon him.
“I think we should use my uncle’s new vessel,” Taj said. “It will be considered unlucky now. Better to have it convey my father’s body to the sea.”
“I agree,” Lara answered, keeping to herself the fact that she had already decided upon that course of action. Taj would always recall when he thought of this day that first decision he had made without her. She was proud he was beginning to think like a Dominus. And Magnus would be proud, too.
“My aunts must be informed before the official notification is cried,” Taj remarked. “I would do it myself,” he told his mother.
“I will transport you. Which would you visit first?” Lara asked.
“The eldest of my grandmother’s children,” Taj said. “At this time of day Narda will be in her hall working upon her tapestry while her husband, Tostig, plays an endless game of Herder with his eldest son.”
Lara waved her hand. “So you are there,” she said as her son disappeared.
He reappeared in Lord Tostig’s hall, and the sight of the young boy stepping from a haze of green smoke caused his aunt Narda, the eldest of Lady Persis’s children, to shriek with surprise and drop the needle she had been plying.
“Nephew!” she scolded him. “Could you not come to visit in a more conventional manner? This magical transport you have effected is most disconcerting.”
“I come to bring you tragic news, Aunt,” Taj began.
Lady Narda shrieked again, but this time it was a sound of distress. “Mother,” she cried, a hand going to her heart.
“Nay, my grandmother is in good health,” Taj reassured her. “It is my father who was today killed on Captain Corrado’s new ship when the main mast they were raising snapped, and crushed both my uncle and my father. Corrado will live. My father did not. The Farewell Ceremony is in three days as custom demands. I have claimed the right of inheritance. I am now your new Dominus.”
His aunt stared at him both shocked and surprised. Then she burst into fulsome tears. “My poor, dear brother,” she sobbed, but her tears were only partly sorrowful. She had not been close with her younger, only brother. Then as suddenly as they had begun her tears ceased, and she said, “You are very young to rule Terah, Nephew. You will need the guidance of men like my husband.”
“My father’s Farewell Ceremony will be held at the castle in three days as custom requires,” Taj said, ignoring his aunt’s remark. “Now I must go and inform my aunt Aselma of this news. Mother!” And he was gone from Tostig and Narda’s hall in another burst of pale green smoke.
“He is too young to rule,” Narda said to her husband, who had heard all, but said nothing while Taj was with them. “You must make certain you are chosen to be the boy’s regent. My sister, Aselma, will certainly be encouraging her husband, Armen, to the position. And he dotes upon her. He will do anything to see she is happy. If worst comes to worst we can share the regency, but you must be first as I am the elder. I will not have Aselma and Armen lording it over us. You know how she is.” Narda’s deep blue eyes were concerned. She was an attractive woman who had been some years her brother’s elder. Her dark blond hair was beginning to show streaks of silver.
“It is possible that Magnus made other arrangements,” Tostig said in his quiet and pleasant voice. “We only know your brother is dead. We do not know if he lingered before he died, nor can we know if he had previously made arrangements in case of his early demise. I would not advise you and your sister get into a power struggle over the young Dominus. At least not before we know all the facts. And there is the Domina to consider, my love. You are not foolish enough to think that Lara would allow anyone to interfere with her son’s rule.” He was a gentleman of medium height and build, with fading brown hair, and mild blue-gray eyes that peered out on his world through a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles.
“Women have no place in governance,” Narda said primly.
Her husband smiled. “I am not certain that now is so, my love,” Tostig answered.
Narda gasped. “My lord! What a radical thing to say,” she exclaimed, shocked.
“Your brother valued his wife’s counsel,” he replied. “He told me countless times that there were decisions he could not have made without her. And often it was Lara who suggested the solutions to the various problems a Dominus faced, and needed to solve.”
“Certainly he was teasing when he said such things,” Narda responded.
“Now, my dear,” Tostig said with a smile, “there is no doubt that Magnus loved Lara, but he was not a man to misrepresent the facts. If he said his wife advised him, and gave him answers he could not find, then she did. I have often wondered why women are considered incapable of rule when they so obviously rule their homes, and do it well. Is not a kingdom just an extension of one’s home?” He patted her hand.
“Sometimes you absolutely confuse me, my lord,” Narda said. “But I love you nonetheless. Very well. We will wait to see what happens. But we must leave tomorrow for the castle if we are to be there in time for my brother’s Farewell.” Her blue eyes filled with tears. “We were not close,” she said with a sigh. “But he was my blood, and always kind to me, and to our children. Poor Mother! She will be heartbroken. I suppose Aselma knows by now.”
Aselma and her husband, Armen, had been eating their evening meal when Taj appeared in their hall. They blinked in surprise, but then Aselma waved her nephew forward inviting him to join them. “It’s roast boar, Nephew,” she said. “It has been marinated in apple cider and clove.” Aselma was a plump woman who had always had a penchant for good food. Younger than Narda, but older than her brother, she had rosy cheeks, a head of blond hair that time seemed not to have faded and the same bright blue eyes as her siblings.
“I