with all the goods that they will need to live in the realm of the Celestial Actuary. Alina’s vessel was beautifully decked, and I did not stint my queen. What do you do in the Outlands?” Now it was the Coastal King who was curious.
“Vartan was set upon a great bier within his hall for two days. It allowed all who wished to pay him honor to do so. The mourners are housed and fed at the family’s expense,” Lara explained. “On the third day the body is brought out of the hall to be placed upon a great funeral pyre, which is then set alight at the hour of the sunset. My son and I remained with him until all that was left were ashes. A wind then sprang up, and blew the ashes away, spreading them throughout the Outlands. This is the custom of the Outlands. It is called a departure ceremony. Criminals, however, are buried in the earth to rot while their souls suffer the torment of the damned. Vartan’s murderer and his wicked wife were so disposed of after I slew them,” Lara responded.
Archeron nodded. “I was told his brother killed him,” he said.
“Aye,” Lara answered him. “Adon had always envied his elder sibling, but I would have never thought he would do something like this. His wife, of course, urged him to it. I always knew Elin was ambitious, but her actions orphaned and endangered her only child. Now his grandmother will raise him alone, and the child will be held responsible for his parents’ actions by many among the Fiacre.”
“Did you ever consider that there was more to this?” King Archeron asked Lara.
Lara stopped suddenly. “What is it you are saying to me, my lord king?”
“Vartan was a powerful voice for the Outlands, Lara, and with you advising him, who knew what heights he might have reached? I have heard a rumor, faint, but very distinct, that there were certain men among the powerful in the City, who considered him a great threat to Hetar and to their own ambitions. And, too, a violent death that Vartan’s faerie wife could not prevent might easily contribute to lessening your own authority.”
Lara was stunned by his quiet words. For the tiniest moment she felt dizzy, as if she were going to collapse. Then, as a growing anger caused new strength to flow through her, she said, “And has any name emerged from among these certain powerful men, my lord king? Could Gaius Prospero be among them?”
“He has never forgiven you for the loss of prestige he suffered in the Winter War. It has taken him five years to regain his popularity, and to come within sight again of his goal to be made emperor of Hetar, Lara,” King Archeron responded.
“And will he be made emperor?”
“We will have a better idea of what is happening in the City when Arcas returns. He is serving as one of our representatives on the council right now.”
“So my husband’s murder was an assassination,” Lara said quietly. “Gaius Prospero, clinging to his belief that the Outlands is peopled by savages, thought that by removing Vartan the alliance between the clan families would collapse.” She sighed bitterly. “His ignorance is terrifying, my lord king. The clan families are more determined than ever to remain strongly united. Rendor was chosen head of the council to replace Vartan. And they have made Roan of the Aghy their war leader. An incursion into our lands, an attack on any of them by Hetar, will be met with military action. This would-be emperor will set our world aflame with his ambitions. But how did Gaius Prospero get to Adon, or was it Elin to whom he appealed? Of course! It would have been Elin. That poor foolish woman with her pitiful dreams of her husband leading the Fiacre. Even had Vartan died a natural death, the Fiacre would not have chosen Adon to lead them.”
“What will you do now?” the Coastal King asked his beautiful guest. They began to walk along the beach once again.
Lara shrugged. “My destiny is calling once more.”
“And it called you to come to me?” He smiled down at her. “I am flattered.”
“It called me to the coast, but for what reason I do not yet know, my lord king. But I have many questions to ask you.”
“I will answer those I can,” he promised her.
“You must answer them all,” she told him.
Archeron looked sharply at Lara. “Indeed,” he mur- mured.
She laughed up at him. “I found the nearer I came to your kingdom the more curious I became. I know you possess the knowledge I seek, my lord king.”
He smiled. “I will deny you nothing, Lara. I, too, know you have a destiny. There is a prophecy, known only to a few, in the Book of Hetar, which can be found in the temple of the Celestial Actuary in the City. I believe you are the one meant to satisfy that prophecy. And so does Gaius Prospero or he would not be so intent on destroying you.”
“How many others know of the prophecy?” Lara questioned him.
“Only a handful of the high and mighty. Possibly the High Priest, but he is very old, and under Gaius Prospero’s thumb, I fear.”
“Tell me what the prophecy says.”
“From the darkness came a maiden. From the golden light came a warrior. From a distant tomorrow will come Hetar’s true destiny,” King Archeron recited.
“I was a maiden who came forth from the darkness and squalor of the City. I became a warrior in the golden desert light of the Shadow Princes’ kingdom,” Lara said. “But where, I wonder, is that distant tomorrow?”
“Wherever it is, Lara, you are meant to find it,” Archeron said quietly. Then he said, “Let us seek our horses now, and ride on to my palace.”
Mounting, they rode along the shoreline again, King Archeron leading the way. Rendor moved his horse up next to Lara, murmuring so softly only she could hear him.
“What did he say?”
“Vartan’s death may have been a cleverly planned assassination, conceived by my old friend Gaius Prospero,” Lara replied as softly. Rendor’s face above his short brown bread darkened with outrage, and she noted that his men were pressing in about them, shielding them from the coastal men-at-arms.
Lara put a warning hand on Rendor’s arm, cautioning him to silence. “This is not the doing of the Coastal Kings, my friend,” she said low. “We never expected our relations with Hetar to be what they once were, given the result of the Winter War. But they have struck at us in a way we did not anticipate. Speak of this to the other lords at the Gathering, Rendor. Warn them in as strong terms as you can that they cannot permit Hetar to lure them into any action against one another. If something untoward happens, and it appears to be the deed of another clan family, be suspicious. The Outlands have not fallen into chaos, as I am quite certain Gaius Prospero thought they would when he saw to my husband’s murder. Instead another clan lord was chosen to lead us. Gaius will now consider other ways of causing difficulty for you and the Outlands. Beware, and be suspicious of Hetar no matter their soft words. They are desperate and have no place to go, no way to feed their growing population, no way to make new profits. You are protected for now, but you will not be forever. The clan lords must plan for that day.”
“I wish you were not leaving us,” Rendor said once again.
“I will not be gone from you forever,” Lara promised.
Shortly before the sunset they arrived at the palace of King Archeron. The entire household was in mourning for his queen, Alina. There would be no banquet tonight to welcome the visitors. Rendor’s men were led off to be fed and shown to their sleeping spaces. The king led Lara and the new head of the Outlands High Council into a small dining chamber overlooking the great Sea of Sagitta. Servants brought silver basins of perfumed water with which to wash the journey from their faces and hands. Then they stretched out on the three dining couches and the meal was served.
Lara’s appetite was small that evening. She could not take her eyes from the sea beyond the palace. The sky above it was clear blue, and stained with streamers of rich color from the sun setting over the Outlands beyond the waters. A thin gold crescent moon was rising