told him. “Can you do this? Answer honestly, for if you fail the Dominus, or me, the punishment will be terrible,” she warned him.
“My late uncle served the Dominus Enjar, our young Dominus’s grandfather, in the capacity of First Secretary,” Ampyx said. “And before him several of my antecedents served in the Dominus’s household. Service to this family is in my blood, Domina. I know how to keep secrets.” He paused. “May I have your permission to speak freely to you, and to the Dominus?”
“You may,” Lara said, wondering what it was Ampyx needed to say to her.
“It is said that the late Dominus put the Kingdom of Terah in your charge alone,” Ampyx responded slowly. He was a tall man of undetermined age with a large hooked nose, and a completely bald pate. His dark gray eyes showed nothing at all.
“Is it?” Lara replied softly. “And yet it was the Dominus who dictated to you the announcement of his father’s death to be published throughout the kingdom, was it not? And I speak to you today only at the Dominus’s request. It is Dominus Taj Hauk who rules in Terah, Ampyx, and you will certainly tell any who ask you that, will you not?”
Ampyx bowed to Lara again. “Indeed, Domina, I will tell any who ask that such is truth.” And his fathomless eyes shone briefly with his admiration.
“You will help your master to compose a reply to the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. This will be your first duty.”
“Will the Domina wish to see a copy of this missive before it is sent off?” Ampyx asked politely even though he knew the answer she would give.
Lara nodded. “Thank you. That is most courteous of you.” She stepped down from the dais. “See to your duties, then. The Dominus must now return to his lessons.”
The letter to the Lord High Ruler Jonah was composed, and, reading it over, Lara had to admit she could not have done any better herself. My lord Jonah, it began. Your condolences are graciously accepted in the same spirit in which they were given. Terah will mourn the unexpected death of Dominus Magnus Hauk for some time. However, we are a peaceable kingdom, and no help is needed from Hetar. Our ships will continue to trade with yours. And Taj had signed it with a flourish. Lara was pleased. Ampyx was going to prove a valuable asset.
A faerie post messenger was sent for, and carried off the rolled parchment to be delivered to the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. Scanning it, Lord Jonah’s coal-black eyes narrowed as he attempted to read between the lines, but there was nothing upon which he could fasten. Thank you. We don’t want your help. Our trade continues. Nothing! He walked to his wife’s bedchamber. Vilia had been ill for several months with some kind of wasting sickness, but her mind was still sharp. He handed her the parchment. “Can you make anything of this?” he asked her.
“There is nothing,” she said, reading it.
“Does he really rule Terah, I wonder?” Jonah said.
“Not unless he is some sort of genius, but with Lara for a mother who knows. He is, after all, our Egon’s age. Be glad of that, Jonah, my love. The Terahns won’t let a woman rule them, and so there is certainly some sort of regent’s council overseeing the boy. We need to know who these men are. Then we may set about to subvert them. Terah will be a rich prize, my love, and it is you who will gain it for Hetar.” Then she fell into a fit of coughing that left her breathless and weak. Her beautiful amber eyes were faded, and her dark brown hair had thinned and was lackluster in color.
“Terah is a rich prize,” Jonah agreed with his wife. “Perhaps if we could gain some kind of serious alliance with the Terahns we could stop the talk of the imminent coming of the Hierarch. The rumors have even reached the High Council, Vilia.”
“The Hierarch is nothing more than a fable,” Vilia said. “A tale to make people feel better in the bad times. He doesn’t exist, Jonah.” She grimaced. “Give me some of that Razi, my love. The pain has returned, and is unbearable.”
He poured some of the liquid narcotic into a goblet for her and handed it to her.
Vilia drank deeply. The Razi was quick to work and masked her pain. “Jonah, you must listen to me. I do not have much time left. I must help you plan now, and if you follow my plan you will be victorious,” she promised him.
“You are not dying,” he told her, but he knew better and so did she.
“We must try again to make a marriage between Egon and the Dominus’s twin sister, Marzina,” she said.
“They will refuse us as they did before,” Jonah said.
“Perhaps not this time,” Vilia replied. “Magnus Hauk is dead. The new Dominus is young, and his regent’s council may decide giving us Princess Marzina as a bride for our son is a good way of keeping us at bay.”
“The Domina Lara will never agree to it,” Jonah said, “and no council of mortal men can stand against her will if she says nay.”
“Then,” Vilia said softly, sitting up again, “you must take one of the Terahn princesses for your new wife. The Dominus’s twin is too young, but Princess Zagiri is not. She is seventeen if my memory serves me correctly. And with the parents who bred her she is certain to be very beautiful, Jonah. Would it not please you to have a succulent young thing like that in your bed? And she could give you more children. Children are valuable bargaining chips, my love. Marry them into the right families and if the Hierarch actually is not a myth and came, you would have the power to combat him.”
“Do not speak to me of dying, Vilia!” But she was dying, and even he could not escape the fact. And yet she was looking out for his best interests as she always had. No man could have had a better wife in that respect, Jonah thought, although she had failed him as a breeder, and their only child was physically weak.
“It is a good idea, my love,” Vilia said.
“I know,” he admitted reluctantly, for he did have a certain loyalty to this dying woman who had been his wife, whose wealthy, important family had supported him so staunchly. But the thought of a young, nubile wife caused his cock to twitch beneath his robes. This Terahn princess was likely to be as fertile as her mother. She could give him strong sons, and beautiful daughters. “Does she have magic, I wonder?” he said aloud.
“My spies tell me not,” Vilia replied. “Neither she nor her younger brother exhibit any signs of it.”
“There is an older daughter, Vartan’s get,” Jonah said.
“I am told she is frail, and she has the Sight. While that has a certain value, as does her bloodline, her frailty would make her a poor breeder,” Vilia pointed out.
“You amaze me as always,” Jonah told his wife. “How did you get spies into Terah, my love?”
Vilia laughed weakly but she did not answer him. Instead she said, “The same way the Domina Lara gets her spies here in Hetar, my love. How is not important. My informants have been told that at my demise their loyalty is to come to you. Now, I will personally open negotiations with the Dominus and his council else they think you insensitive. There is nothing wrong with a wife seeking to see her husband is in good hands when she is gone. I believe we have a better chance of obtaining Princess Zagiri for you than obtaining Princess Marzina for our son, Egon.”
“Lara needs no alliance with Hetar,” Jonah reminded his wife.
“Nay,
