When the sky was finally dark she walked back into her chamber to find the lamps had been lit, and a small fire was burning in the little hearth opposite her bed. Drying herself with the large drying cloth she found warming on a rack by the fire she slipped on a loose night robe. Her pack had been brought to her chamber, and opening it she drew out the beautiful gold brush that Kaliq, the Shadow Prince, had once given her as a lover’s token. Seating herself on a small velvet hassock by the fire she brushed her hair dry. She was finally beginning to feel sleepy. Lara climbed into the large comfortable bed draped in coral and gold silk curtains. What would tomorrow bring, she wondered? And how long would she remain here in Archeron’s palace? Her eyes closed slowly of their own volition.
She awakened with the dawn, and rose to see the sunrise from her terrace. She had slept a sound and dreamless sleep. For the next few weeks Lara’s days were relatively the same. She awoke, ate her morning meal upon the marble terrace and then walked about the town belonging to King Archeron’s palace. The lords of the coastlands had long ago decided that each of their leaders would be a king with his own palace and village. It saved a great deal of debate, and the oldest of the kings was always recognized as their High King, no matter the family from which he came.
The palace was white marble, with soaring towers and gold-leafed domes. The town into which it blended was much the same. The windows of the houses overlooking the streets were bright with flower boxes holding blooms of every size and hue. The stalls in the market square were clean and filled with goods being hawked from beneath multicolored awnings.
Lara had no need of coin. If she saw something she admired it was pressed into her hand. She returned the kindness with a faerie blessing, which she learned was far preferred to silver or gold. And everyone knew who she was. The daughter of the great Crusader Knight, John Swiftsword, and a faerie mother, although her mother did not matter to the Hetarians. Nor did her sojourn in the Outlands where it was rumored she had mated with, and given one of the men there children. She was still the great beauty that she had been reputed to be.
In the afternoons Lara would ride along the beach with King Archeron, and in the evenings they would dine together. Often their evenings were spent in conversation. Other times they would play a board game similar to the one she had played with Vartan.
And then one evening Archeron announced to his guest that his son and heir, Arcas, would soon be returning from the City.
“No one travels the old-fashioned way any longer,” he told Lara. “The representatives are now all transported to and from the City by means of magic.”
“With whom has he served?” she asked, curious.
“King Balasi,” Archeron answered. “His is an old and very respected family. But I find him easily led, and perhaps a bit foolish. When it is his turn to serve on the High Council in the City we always see he is sent with someone strong who is able to direct Balasi without his being aware of it. He is unable to cause difficulties then, for he is a pompous, self-important man. My son has never forgotten you, Lara.”
“I did not say it when I was last here, but Arcas offended me deeply,” Lara told her gracious and kindly host. “But perhaps it was just his enthusiasm that caused him to act in the manner in which he did.”
“What did he say?” Archeron was distressed by her revelation.
“He made reference to my slavery, and then he touched me in an intimate manner,” Lara said quietly. “I did not speak gently to him.”
“I am sorry,” Archeron replied. “But then, as you have considered, surely it was just his enthusiasm at meeting you that caused his breach of manners.”
Lara nodded in seeming agreement with the king, but she knew Arcas’s behavior had been caused by little more than his lustful nature. She was not looking forward to meeting him again. “There is a question that I have wanted to ask you ever since I saw the Sea of Sagitta again,” she began.
“I will answer your query if I can,” he said, glad to be off the subject of Arcas.
“What is on the other side of your sea? And why is naught said about it?” Lara looked directly at King Archeron as she spoke.
He chuckled. “No one has ever asked that question of me,” he began. “How clever of you, Lara, to consider such a thing. Hetar believes it alone exists, but for the Outlands, which Hetar has declared a savage place in order to make itself seem more civilized and important. It is a very narrow view. But on the other side of the sea is a land its inhabitants call Terah. It is ruled over by the Dominus of the Terahn Dominion. It is from there our luxury goods come—the fabrics, the jewelry, the fine china and pottery, the objects of gold and silver. We trade the salt we produce, the pearls we harvest from the sea, and the coin we earn by selling Terahn merchandise in exchange for more of their goods. Gaius Prospero is unconcerned with where we obtain these things. He only desires them to gain more profit for himself. He assumes we manufacture these goods ourselves, and few from the City or any other part of Hetar have ever come to the Coastal Kingdom. All of us keep much to ourselves, and the City is the only place where we meet and mingle. Those across the sea are our secret. Now you know it, and you must keep that secret. We should lose our great advantage over the City if this was known to them.”
“I will keep your secret,” Lara said. “Have you ever been to Terah, Archeron?”
“No,” he replied. “The Terahns do not permit strangers into their lands. We meet these fellow traders in the middle of the sea and there we exchange our goods.”
“How did the Coastal Kings find the Terahns?” Lara wanted to know.
“That is the odd thing about our relationship,” Archeron responded. “No one knows how it all began. There is nothing in our history to explain it, yet for centuries we have traded with them, and they with us. I remember asking my grandfather when I was a child, and he just shook his head, and told me that it had always been, and would always be. And the Terahns’ knowledge of this partnership is no greater than ours.”
“How strange,” Lara remarked. “Haven’t you ever wanted to know more about the Terahns, Archeron? Haven’t you ever wanted to see their land, and if it is as beautiful as here? Haven’t you ever wanted to meet them face-to-face?”
“Oh, I have met Terahns,” he told her. “When I was younger I often captained one of my family’s ships to the meeting place, and did business with their captains. I even met on several occasions the man who is now the Dominus. I met him as a boy. He is Magnus Hauk. A serious lad as I recall, and I am now told, deeply passionate about keeping the Dominion strong.”
“It is interesting that these Terahns have never considered invading Hetar, or the fertile plains of the Outlands,” Lara mused.
“Their own lands are said to be gloriously beautiful, but of course we have but their word for it as they have ours.” Archeron smiled. “Actually, we know little of them, for they keep very much to themselves as do we. I do not believe they are an aggressive people. And they have never evinced any real interest in Hetar.”
“How curious,” Lara noted. “Perhaps these people are much like us.”
“I could not tell you, for we do nothing more than trade. Prices are set for the goods in advance. We exchange cargos and go our separate ways. Sometimes, however, we might share wine or a meal together,” Archeron said. “Not often, but now and again. It depends upon the captain with whom our own captain does business.”
“So Terahns are
