The Shadow Queen. Bertrice Small

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would I go?” she asked Aselma in an icy voice. “Terah is my home. My son is its ruler. Until he weds I am yet the Domina.”

      “Aye! Still you have no real importance here now. My brother is dead. But the boy is too young to rule!” Aselma quickly replied. “He needs the guidance of an older man. He must not be corrupted by you as Magnus was. Women are not meant to rule.”

      “My son has already in his young wisdom chosen his three uncles to be the Dominus’s Council,” Lara responded. “I will bring them here to the castle at least once monthly to meet with my son and conduct the business of government.”

      “Once a month?” Aselma screeched. “One of us should at least live here at the castle to guide the boy each day.”

      “And I suppose you think you should be the one chosen,” Narda cried angrily.

      “Cease your arguments, Aunts,” Taj Hauk said. “I do not choose to have either of you moving into my mother’s house, and this castle is indeed my mother’s home. Look to my uncle’s injuries. My mother’s magic has managed to heal his bones, but his bruises will take weeks to heal. She left them so that Terahns might see that he, too, was injured. His broken heart may never heal. Two days ago my father was killed. Tomorrow we will bid him farewell. If you cannot keep from your petty quarreling in these sorrowful times then I will send you home today.” The boy had drawn himself up to his full height. His turquoise-blue eyes were fierce with his determination.

      Narda and Aselma were suddenly properly cowed into obedience. The two sisters bowed their heads. Like their mother they accepted male dominance.

      “Greet my mother properly now,” Taj Hauk said, and they did. “You are all dismissed now but for the Domina. I will see you at the evening meal.” He waved them off with a firm hand.

      When the chamber was empty Lara turned to her son. “I can see you have already learned from your father,” she said.

      The boy grinned. “Father would have been harder on them for their rudeness to you, but I understand they are grieving, too. Still, I know that had I not shown a firm hand with them at once their behavior would have escalated. They are old-fashioned, but the truth is they are both as ambitious as any for power. They shall not, however, have mine.”

      “Nor should anyone, my son,” Lara told him. “I know there are many who think that I ruled over your father. I did not. But your father was willing to listen to what I had to say, Taj. And he was not ashamed to take my advice when it was good. I hope one day you will give your wife that same courtesy.”

      “In many cases,” her son answered, “you made him believe your advice was his.”

      Lara smiled. “You are clever to have seen that,” she replied. “He never did.”

      Taj chuckled. “Of course he didn’t, Mother. He loved you beyond all else.”

      The tears came swiftly and unbidden at the boy’s words. Lara turned away quickly, wiping the evidence of her grief with her two hands.

      “Mother! I am sorry,” her son cried. “I shall not speak of my father again.”

      “Nay!” Lara said. “Nay! You must always speak of him, for as long as people speak of Magnus Hauk he is yet with us. His memory must remain, Taj. He was a great Dominus. Only a great man would have listened to me when I realized the men of Terah had been cursed by Usi. Only a great man would have had the courage to fly in the face of Terahn tradition and trust a woman to correct a bad situation, but your father did. His loss is so new, my son. And I will weep for him easily now. In time I will grow stronger, and my cold faerie heart will be hard once more. I have encased it in ice already, but the ice seems to melt at the mere mention of Magnus Hauk.” She brushed the tears that continued to flow away again. “I suppose it is that small bit of me that is mortal.” She sighed, and gave a watery little chuckle.

      The boy put an arm about her shoulders. “It pleases me to see you grieve so for my father,” he said.

      Lara almost laughed aloud at Taj’s pronouncement. It was just the sort of thing Magnus Hauk would have said to her. “You are truly your father’s son,” she told him as he hugged her close.

      “You must rest now, Mother, for tomorrow will be a big day for all of Terah,” Taj said to her, but she shook her head.

      “Nay. I will go and don the finest robes I have. Then I will sit at the foot of your father’s bier in the Great Hall of the castle until the morrow. The people have been coming all day to pay their respects. We must open the doors to them soon,” Lara told him. “It is tradition that a Domina sit at the foot of her husband’s coffin and greet his people as they come to mourn him. I will not neglect that tradition.” She kissed Taj’s cheek. “Come into the hall while I am there, and greet the people.”

      “I will,” he promised her.

      She left him, and went to her own chamber where Mila, her serving woman, was waiting for her. Lara was surprised to see that Mila had laid out a simple white silk robe, its round neckline and long full sleeves edged in shining gold threads. “You think this appropriate?” she asked the servant.

      Mila nodded. “He has been dressed in his finest and richest robes, Domina. You in a simple gown will show all of Terah your respect for Magnus Hauk by your lack of ostentation. It is the Terahn way, Domina, but as you have never attended to the death of a family member before you would not know that. All of them, even the young Dominus, will dress plainly so as not to take anything away from Magnus Hauk, for this is his time.”

      Lara felt the tears coming again. She collapsed briefly into a chair and wept softly. Finally drawing a long, deep breath she arose. “I will bathe first, Mila.”

      “Of course, Domina,” the serving woman replied.

      The women in the bath were ready for their mistress. Lara was too weary and sad for conversation, and they understood. When she had finished her ablutions she returned to her bedchamber, where Mila helped her dress and brushed out her long golden hair. The servant fit a narrow gold band about her mistress’s head. The band had a small bloodred ruby in its center. Mila lastly fit a pair of golden kidskin slippers on Lara’s dainty feet. “Stand up, Domina, and let me see if all is right,” she said.

      Lara stood. The silk in the loose gown felt cool against her legs. It would be a comfortable gown in which to sit, she thought. Turning, she looked at herself in the tall mirror. It was indeed a modest gown, and if Terahn custom demanded it then she was content to wear it. “Tell the majordomo that the doors to the hall are to be opened to the people at the noon hour.”

      “I’ll go immediately, and you eat something from that tray.” Mila pointed to the sideboard where the tray sat. Then she hurried out.

      Lara lifted the napkin covering the tray. Then she let it fall back again. Her appetite was practically nonexistent at this moment. She knew in time that she would eat again, but right now she could not entertain the thought. She did sip a cup of Frine. Then, leaving her apartments, Lara went to the Great Hall, where Magnus Hauk’s body now lay in state. The hall was empty, to her relief, for the coffin and its bier were newly arrived. A single small plain wooden throne had been placed at her husband’s feet.

      Lara walked to where her husband lay. They had indeed dressed him in robes of incredible richness such as she had never seen. She did not recognize them at all. From where had they come? Lara looked upon the body. It looked like Magnus Hauk, and yet it didn’t. That spark

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