A Distant Tomorrow (20 page)

“Only designated members of each village are permitted to leave it,” the Dominus explained. “The villages each keep to themselves.”

“Why?” Lara wanted to know.

“It has always been that way,” he responded with a shrug.

They rode on as the sun climbed into the heavens and considered its downward descent. The society of Terah was, Lara was learning, every bit as circumscribed as that of Hetar, perhaps even more so. In Hetar one might advance by following a circumspect set of rules, but here in Terah, where you were born determined the rest of your life, and there was obviously no chance for dissent. Lara knew from her conversations with Sirvat that the women of Terah didn’t like it. Yes, things had to change, but they could only do so when the voices of the women of Terah could be heard once again. Lara was eager to face the challenge in breaking Usi’s curse.

As the sun began to sink behind them they saw the walls of the Temple of the Great Creator ahead. The Dominus hurried his small party ahead so that they might reach the temple before the gates closed for the night. One of the men-at-arms rode ahead to warn the temple gatekeeper that the Dominus was approaching, in order to win them a few minutes more.

Just as the sun vanished beyond the horizon, they cantered into the temple courtyard, and as they dismounted they heard the gates behind them being pushed shut for the night, the great iron bar clanging into place. A young priest hurried forward to greet them, bowing low to his ruler.

“My lord, your uncle asks that you await him in the guest house. He will join you after evening prayers,” the young priest said. His eyes were wide at the sight of Lara, her sword on her back and staff in her hand. But he was either too polite or too frightened to ask the question on his lips.

“Go along, lad,” the Dominus said. “I know the way.”

The priest bowed and hurried off, his brown robes swaying.

“Do not speak until I tell you,” Magnus Hauk said low. “That a woman has entered the temple with me is cause enough for gossip, as my uncle is the next High Priest. They will assume it is a family matter of some sort.”

Lara nodded.

“They will think you are to be my bride, and I have brought you to my uncle for his approval,” the Dominus told her with a mischievous grin.

Lara bit her lip in vexation, and he chuckled. “Oh, how you want to refute that, don’t you?”

Lara shook a finger at him in exasperation, and he laughed aloud. He was right, of course. The sound of a woman’s voice could send the poor priests of the Great Creator into a fright. Meekly she followed Magnus Hauk from the outer yard into a large inner courtyard planted with graceful trees, and delicately scented flowers and bushes. A meandering stream opened into a small lake filled with green lily pads and flowers. The lake drained at the other end into another stream. Lara and Magnus crossed the water on elevated square stones to reach the temple guest house.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked her.

Lara nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want any of the priests to hear your voice yet, even accidentally. It would cause great consternation,” he told her. “I would tell my uncle first that your voice can be heard by the men of Terah, and why.”

She nodded her understanding as she sat down on a gilded wooden chair. From a nearby sideboard he brought her a small goblet of wine, which she sipped gratefully. They had stopped but once during the journey to water their horses and relieve themselves. Lara was hungry, thirsty, tired and sore. It had been some time since she had ridden for so far and so long.

Before long a tall slim man with an ageless face entered the chamber. Magnus Hauk arose immediately to greet him. “Uncle!” The two men embraced.

Immediately Arik Hauk’s eyes went to the woman with his nephew. Her beauty was astounding. But her garb—leather pants, a silk shirt and leather vest—was odd. Stranger still was the fact she carried a sword and a staff. Weapons both, he recognized. “Who is this guest you have brought me, Nephew?” he asked.

“This is Lara, Uncle. She is Hetarian. She was sent to me by one of the Coastal Kings who thought to curry my favor,” Magnus Hauk began to explain.

“You were sent a slave woman?” the priest said.

“She is not a slave, Uncle. She is the widow of a great lord, but the Coastal King involved had a grudge against her, and thought to revenge himself by attempting to enslave her and send her across the Sea of Sagitta.”

“And how do you know this, Magnus?” the priest wanted to know.

“She has told me, Uncle.”

Arik Hauk paled. “What do you mean, she told you?” he demanded.

“Because she is not of this land, I can hear her voice, Uncle,” Magnus Hauk said.

“You can hear this woman’s voice?” The priest now looked intrigued. “Could I hear it, Nephew?”

“All men can hear it,” came the reply. “May I allow her to speak to you, Uncle?”

The priest nodded eagerly.

The Dominus turned to Lara, and nodded.

Lara stood, and bowed politely to Arik Hauk. “Greetings, my lord Arik, uncle to the Dominus,” she said. “I have come to this great temple because I need your help.”

“How is it possible that I can hear you?” the priest asked her.

“I am Hetarian born, my lord Arik. I am the daughter of John Swiftsword, the Crusader Knight, and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries. The curse that Usi the Sorcerer placed on Terah was not on your women, my lord, but on the men who listened to the women who helped them defeat the sorcerer. Your women have never lost the ability to speak, but your men had their ears stopped up so they could not hear the voices of Terahn females. I, however, am not born of this place, and so the curse did not extend to me.”

“Amazing!” the priest said. “But you said you need my help? How can I help you, my lady Lara?”

“Magnus has told me that Usi was a member of this order who was sadly seduced by the forces of darkness,” Lara said. “Did he remain within these temple precincts?”

“Sometimes, after he had gained power, he did. And he built the castle in which the rulers of the Terahn Dominion reside today,” Arik said.

“You did not tell me that Usi lived in the castle!” Lara exclaimed.

“I had forgotten about it until my uncle just now reminded me,” the Dominus said.

“I believe if I can find the curse he uttered against you,” Lara told the priest, “that I can reverse it. Magnus believes it could be written in the Book of Terah.”

“Indeed, Nephew, that is possible, but it could also be somewhere within your own castle,” Arik Hauk said.

“That should have been the first place we looked,” Lara said with a sigh.

“But the castle is so public,” the Dominus said. “I think it more likely Usi would have hidden his curse, if indeed he even wrote it down, here at the temple.”

“Sorcerers always write their words down once they have decided upon what they will say. Each one has a book of curses, for they never know if they might not use them again,” Lara explained. “He could have written these words in the Book of Terah, or he could have a separate book. Well, we are here, so I suppose it best we begin our search here—with your permission, my lord Arik.”

“It is not my permission you need, but that of the High Priest Aslak,” Arik said.

“You are his duly elected successor,” the Dominus noted. “I have heard that Aslak has grown old and feeble. That you make the decisions for the temple now.”

“Indeed I do, Nephew,” Arik Hauk said. “But I always place everything before the High Priest first as a matter of courtesy, you understand. Aslak is, by virtue of having lived all but twelve years of his life here in the temple, suspicious of women. And should he hear your lovely voice, my lady Lara, he would count it magic. And Aslak hates magic. He believes all magic is evil. He learned his lessons at the knee of an ancient High Priest who had been taught by one who had been taught by one who was a young man when Usi the Sorcerer was drawn to darkness. For these men, magic was wicked.”

“Magic can indeed be wicked,” Lara agreed, “but most magic is good.”

“Usi’s magic was dark and cruel,” Arik said. “But you would appear to be a creature of light and goodness. I have always believed in a balance between dark and light. This is not an opinion I share publicly, for Aslak is most tenacious in his own beliefs, but many among us believe in this balance.”

“Mortals share this balance, too,” Lara said softly.

Arik smiled. “You are as wise as you are beautiful, I see,” he said.

“Can you help us, Uncle?” the Dominus wanted to know.

Arik nodded. “I can. But first, Magnus, you must pay your respects to Aslak, for he will already know of your visit. But how to explain you have been accompanied by a woman, Nephew? For he will know that, too,” Arik said.

“We will say one of the Coastal Kings in Hetar with whom we trade has sent me the woman as a possible bride. And as she pleases me well, I have come to see if she meets with your approval as the oldest male in our family. You, of course, if asked, will say you are reserving your judgment until you know Lara better.”

Arik looked at Lara’s disapproving face and chuckled. “Your prospective bride does not seem happy with this explanation,” he noted.

“I will agree to it as it seems the simplest and best explanation,” Lara said. “But I am not of a mind to take another husband.”

“So you loved your husband,” Arik said.

“His name was Vartan, Lord of the Fiacre, and head of the Outlands High Council. He was a good man,” Lara elaborated. “I have two children, too. A son, Dillon, and a daughter, Anoush.”

“Where are your children now?” the priest inquired.

“My children are in the care of blood kin of my husband’s,” she explained. “My husband was assassinated on the orders of an ambitious Hetarian, Gaius Prospero. Hetar has always believed the Outlands are savage and lawless, but that is not so. I have lived both in Hetar and the Outlands, and I far prefer the Outlands.”

“Would you consider my nephew as a husband, my lady Lara?” Arik surprised her by asking. His look was curious.

“I don’t want another husband,” she told him. “I have been told I have a destiny, and so I must be free to follow that destiny.”

“But if you were free to wed again,” the priest persisted. “Would you choose Magnus, my lady Lara?”

“Your nephew is too overbearing, and I too indepen- dent,” Lara said. “It is better that opposites attract rather than like, my lord Arik.”

“Perhaps,” Arik murmured with a small smile. He liked this woman, and had decided in the short time of their acquaintance that she would make his nephew an excellent wife. She was every bit as strong as he was, and Magnus would not wear her down until she bored him. This woman would never bore his nephew.

“When should I see Aslak?” Magnus asked, breaking into his uncle’s thoughts.

“He will be having his evening meal now, and we should be served ours shortly. Afterwards, and before the last prayers of our day,” Arik decided.

The door to the chamber in which they were all now standing opened, and a line of servants came in bearing food. Lara grew silent again. They were seated, Arik at the table’s head, and his guests on either side of him. Plates and implements were set before them. Dishes and platters were passed about by the servants. Lara accepted each dish with a polite nod of her head to the silent servants. Wine was poured. They ate their meal in silence as was the custom of the temple dwellers, and as the servants remained in the chamber, Lara knew she must not speak again until they were alone. When the meal was finally cleared away the two men arose from the table. Magnus bent to kiss Lara on the cheek.

“I will return shortly, lady,” he told her, and she smiled and nodded.

“She is very intelligent,” Arik remarked as they hurried from the guest house to the High Priest’s dwelling. “It is long past time you took a wife, Magnus. The faerie woman from Hetar is fresh blood. And she intrigues you, I can see.”

“There is time yet for me to take a wife and sire children,” the Dominus said. “I am in no hurry. She is quite magical, Uncle. The sword and the staff she carries both speak, as does her horse. Lara’s faerie mother gave the horse wings so he might fly across the Sea of Sagitta to join her. She claims she has killed with that sword. Such a formidable woman may not be the woman for me. I need a woman who will give me children willingly. A wife who will mother those children as a woman should, and not go off seeking a destiny. She is beautiful, and I am fascinated with her, I will admit. But I do not know if I would wed her.”

“She is precisely the wife for you, Magnus,” his uncle said. “The kind of woman you believe you seek to wed would bore you in a year. This is a strong female, and have you not possibly considered that the destiny that has been predicted for her may also be your destiny? Have I not told you, Magnus, that change is coming? And perhaps now is not the time for children, Nephew. One day, yes. But first you must cope with what is to come. I play the traditionalist, Nephew, but you know that I am also progressive in my thoughts and ideas. I can do little until Aslak has gone on into the next life, but when he has departed, Magnus, I shall implement my plans for the Brotherhood of the Great Creator, and for the Daughters of the Great Creator, too.