“I will send word before I come,” she promised him as she walked outside to see him off. And then she went to each of the clan lords, bidding them and their clan people farewell, and thanking them for coming to honor Vartan’s life and last journey. Bowing to each group she said the same words. “I appreciate the homage you offered my husband as he departed for the realm of the Celestial Actuary.” She stood as each group departed. Finally, Camdene was as it should be on a midsummer morning. The streets were quiet. The men in the fields tended to the crops and the clan’s herds of cattle. The women went about the business of childcare, housework and gardening. Lara returned to the hall to find Bera awaiting her.
“We must talk,” her mother-in-law said calmly. But the calm surrounding Bera was so fragile that Lara could almost see it.
“Come, and sit,” Lara invited the older woman. “Have you eaten?” She brought Bera to the high board, and signaled to a servant to bring food.
“Everything tastes like sawdust now,” Bera remarked.
“I know,” Lara agreed as she poured a goblet of wine for Bera.
Bera drank slowly, and then she set the goblet down. “What is to happen now, Lara?” she asked the young woman in a plaintive tone. “You were Vartan’s wife. These decisions are yours to make now.”
“I think it best that Liam have this hall that has been for so many years the center of Camdene. I know his father did not rule from here, but both Vartan and his father did,” Lara began. “Now that our people must deal more with Hetar it is important that the clan lord have a fine dwelling. And frankly, Liam and Noss will need a larger house with four children to raise.”
“Four?” Bera looked confused. “I thought there was but one, and another to come soon. Has my poor mind gone entirely?”
“Liam and Noss will be raising Dillon and Anoush for me,” Lara said. “I cannot have them living in the same house as Adon’s son, Bera. I am sorry. That is why my children have not been here these past few days, but have remained with Noss. You will be moved to Liam’s house with Cam. You will continue to be respected as Vartan’s mother. You will lack for nothing. But my children will eschew Cam.”
“But they are cousins,” Bera said.
“Cam is Adon’s son. Adon killed my children’s father,” Lara replied.
“And you killed both Adon and Elin,” Bera responded. “You slew Cam’s parents without mercy.” She looked directly into Lara’s green eyes.
“Aye, I did, and I have not a single regret,” Lara answered, returning the look even as she remembered her mother’s words regarding Bera. “Cam is his parents’ child. Their tainted blood runs in his veins. He will never be free of their curse.”
“You have a faerie’s cold heart,” Bera said cruelly.
Lara smiled softly, and nodded. “I do,” she agreed, “but it is for my children. If I did not, I should not be able to do what I must do. Do not trifle with me in this matter, Bera. I will not allow your sentimental heart to endanger Vartan’s son and daughter. If it were up to me I should take Adon’s spawn far out on the plain and leave him there to die. Indeed, it might be better for all concerned if I did. But against my better judgment I will give him to you to raise. Just keep him away from my children.” Then Lara left her mother-in-law at the high board while she went to find Noss and Liam to discuss the moving arrangements.
Several days later the transfer of households was completed. Despite Noss’s protest, Lara had moved from the lord’s bedchamber into a bedspace in the little hall that had once been Bera’s personal domain. She found that she slept far better in the enclosed place than she had in the large bed she had once shared with Vartan. And her children were close by in the nursery chamber. But Bera had hardly spoken to her after their last conversation, and she had not seen Cam at all.
The summer days seemed longer than she had ever remembered them being. She sloughed off the responsibilities of the lord’s wife like a snake shedding its skin. Noss was now the lady of the Fiacre, and while Lara was happy to advise her, she was glad to see Noss pick up the duties and obligations that belonged to her high office. She spent much of her day with her two children. Anoush was toddling, and seemed fearless. Dillon kept to Lara’s side like a small burr, full of questions and mischief. He made her laugh as no one else ever did.
One afternoon they sat beneath a tree in the grass. Anoush had fallen asleep in Lara’s lap, and Dillon, leaning against his mother, demanded a story from her. It was time, Lara realized, to tell him her story. She began.
“Once a beautiful faerie girl ensorcelled a handsome Midlands farmer lad. She took him away to her bower in the forest where they made love for days on end. And in time she birthed a beautiful daughter whom she loved dearly. But when the baby was just a few months old the beautiful faerie girl had to leave her child, and her lover. She sent them back out into their own world.”
“Why?” Dillon wanted to know.
“Because the beautiful faerie girl had certain obligations to her own mother, and family,” Lara explained. “The lad she loved could not live in her world, nor could she have lived in his. Sometimes, my son, you must place your family duties above all else, and so it was with the beautiful faerie woman.” She caressed his dark hair gently.
“What happened to the farmer’s lad, and their child?” Dillon asked.
“He took his daughter and returned to his parents’ house. But, alas, his father had died in the time he had been away, and his older brother was now the head of their family. The brother did not want the child in his house. He said her faerie blood would bring bad luck on them all.”
“That’s silly,” Dillon said scornfully. “Everyone knows that faeries bring good fortune, Mama. I think this farmer was a fool.”
Lara grinned. “I think so, too,” she said.
“So what happened next?”
“Dorjan, the foolish farmer, said his brother must go, and take his child with him. But Ida, his mother, protested, and said if Dorjan sent his brother and the child from their house she would go with them. Dorjan would not relent, and so Ida, her younger son and the infant went to the City. There the son became a famous mercenary, and Ida raised her granddaughter. But when the child was ten years of age the grandmother died.
“The girl kept house for her father until he found a fine wife, Susanna, the daughter of a Midlands farmer. They wed, and Susanna gave her husband a son whom they called Mikhail.
“But the Mercenary was sad, for he wished to better his position in life. The only way he could do that was by becoming a Crusader Knight. He very much wanted to enter the tournament that was held once every three years to choose new knights, but he had not the means. And then he realized he had one valuable possession – his beautiful half-faerie daughter. If he sold her to Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants, he would have everything he needed for the tournament. A fine warhorse, new weapons and the best armor. His battle skills, he knew, would gain him the place he sought. And when he became a Crusader Knight his wife and son would be moved to the beautiful Garden District into a beautiful house with slaves of their own. His son would receive the finest education. But only if he sold his daughter into slavery. There was no other way for him, and besides, he had not even enough coin to give his daughter a dower portion. And so he sold his eldest child, but she was happy to be the means by which her father might advance himself. And she was very proud when he won his place among the Crusader Knights.”
“What happened to her then?” Dillon asked eagerly.