“Let us go back now,” she said to Dasras.
“Do you not wish to see the sea creatures who populate the Obscura?” he asked her. “I hear they are beautiful.”
“Then let us satisfy your curiosity,” Lara agreed, and Dasras turned toward the sea that bordered Rendor’s new lands.
Beneath them the flocks of white sheep grazed contentedly, watched over by their shepherds and dogs. Not everyone went to the Gathering. Soon the great animal was soaring out over the sparkling turquoise waters, and before long they saw below them several of the creatures Rendor had mentioned. They were elegant beasts with scales that glistened, long tails, and fine heads with jeweled horns. Playing in the waves they appeared harmless. Scanning the ocean beneath her she saw the desert of the Shadow Princes curving to the south. But toward the north there was a darker land. It was not Hetar, for Hetar knew only one sea. Nor was it Terah. Obscura was a sea hidden from both lands, known only to a few.
“Return now,” she commanded Dasras, and he obeyed.
Her fingers entwined within his mane, Lara wondered how large the ocean below them was. She was beginning to realize that there was much she did not know about the world in which she dwelled. From the vantage of her horse’s back Terah seemed to lie upon a globe shaped body in the heavens. How was this possible? For the first time in many months she touched the small crystal star that hung between her breasts.
Greetings, my child, the dear and familiar voice murmured to her.
Ethne, the land below seems round, not flat, and yet when Dasras’s feet touch it again it will be flat. How is this possible?
The world upon which we dwell is indeed circular, her guardian spirit replied. Did you not know it? Ethne sounded surprised.
How could I? Lara demanded. No one ever told me.
Well, now you know. There are many such worlds in the skies above, I have been told.
By whom? Lara wanted to know.
It is simply one of the facts I seem to possess, Ethne said. The knowledge has always been there.
Would my mother know? Lara queried.
I cannot say. But it does not matter, for your destiny is on this world, Lara. Ethne’s flame twinkled up at her.
Reaching the place of the Gathering once again, Dasras folded his wings and galloped across the field before finally coming to a stop. For a long moment Lara remained upon his back, but then she slipped down, gave the great stallion a pat and walked away toward the Fiacre encampment, where she found Noss already bustling about. Noss, however, knew better than to ask Lara where she had been. If her friend wanted to discuss that she would. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t.
“Come and help me,” Noss called. “You surely haven’t forgotten how to cook.”
Lara laughed. “Nay, and I do remember how the clan families love to eat at the Gathering.” She set to work peeling the dried brown skins from a bowl of onions.
For the next few days it was as if she had never departed the Fiacre, and she was one of them again. Only the pitiful shade of Vartan’s mother gave her cause for sadness. She hardly saw the boy Cam. He seemed to have disappeared altogether. Although she felt guilty for the thought, Lara wished she had slain the child with his parents. She could already see the wickedness in him, and it would only grow as Cam grew.
She prepared the clan lords for Magnus Hauk’s arrival, and on the fourth morning she gathered them together within the ring of stone monoliths, transporting him into their midst with a short incantation. He appeared before them, standing next to Lara, his burnished golden hair shining in the sunlight. He was garbed in a long deep purple tunic edged with silver, black leather boots, and on his head he wore a circlet of silver-and-gold studded with sparkling gemstones.
“I greet you, my lords,” he said, the deep booming tones of his voice as impressive as his appearance. His bow encompassed them all.
Rendor stepped forward, and knelt before Magnus Hauk. “In the name of the clan families, I welcome our Dominus to the Gathering. With your permission we would present the yearly tribute agreed upon.”
“And then I hope you will invite me to partake in your festivities,” the Dominus said graciously. “Rise, Rendor of the Felan, and let the other Outlands lords come forward so I may personally greet each one as well.”
Rendor stood, bowed and then signaled the others forward. Torin of the Gitta came first, bringing with him a large flat basket of decorated breads, each shaped differently, and made from the first grains grown by his clan family in the new Outlands.
“How beautifully fashioned your loaves are, Lord Torin. I thank you.” The Dominus nodded his head.
Floren of the Blathma stepped before the Dominus. He, too, carried a basket but in it, nestled among a bed of moss, were several large tubers. At Magnus Hauk’s questioning look he said, “Planted in your gardens, my lord Dominus, these will grow into the finest lilies you have ever seen. Their scent is exquisite.”
“I am particularly fond of lilies,” was the reply.
Vanko, representing the Piaras, stepped up, and offered Magnus Hauk a beautifully fashioned small black box. He opened it to display a large gold nugget. “The first we mined, my lord Dominus,” he explained.
“Magnificent!” Magnus Hauk said enthusiastically. “I have never seen better.”
“So said our gnome partners,” Vanko said. Then he moved aside to allow Imre of the Tormod his turn.
The clan lord of the Tormod spilled a small bag of multicolored gemstones into the Dominus’s hand. “They are called Transmutes, my lord. Once set within gold or silver they change color with the wearer’s mood. We discovered them this summer, and Fulcrum, who is the chieftain of the Jewel gnomes, said he had heard once of stones such as these, but never before had they been mined in the Emerald Mountains.”
“Thank you,” Magnus Hauk said. “It would seem that in bringing you all to Terah I have done us both a favor.”
“Your Transmutes will cause a sensation in Hetar,” Lara said with a smile.
Liam of the Fiacre now came, bringing with him two pairs of beautiful leather boots, and vests. He bowed. “I have had these made for you, my lord, and for Lara.”
Together the Dominus and Domina examined the leather goods.
Lara looked up at Liam. “They are wonderful, my lord,” she told him.
“Yes,” Magnus Hauk agreed. “Your leathersmiths do fine work, my lord.”
Accius of the Devyn bards now came forward. “We are the clan family whose treasure is always with us, my lord Dominus. We are the poets and singers. Tonight around the great fire we will sing for you the song we have composed in your honor. It tells of your great generosity in giving us this new land, and of our journey here.”
Accius bowed low.
“I shall look forward to hearing your saga, my lord,” the Dominus said.
Roan of the Aghy was next to present himself to Magnus Hauk. “In the spring,” he said, “you shall have three foals sired by the great Dasras,” he told him. “And you will, I hope, my lord Dominus, come to choose them yourself.”
“I do not have to, my lord,” Magnus Hauk said, “for I trust you to do it. And the following spring when they are yearlings, I shall take them into my stables.”
Roan of the Aghy nodded. “I had heard it said, my lord, that you were wise,” he murmured. “The truth has exceeded my expectations.” He bowed low, and turning moved away from where Lara and her husband stood.
“Well done, my lord,” Lara told Magnus Hauk softly.
And finally Rendor stepped up to present the Dominus with several fine sheepskin rugs. “’Tis small thanks for your overwhelming kindness to us, my lord,” he said bowing to their new overlord.