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“You aren’t going anywhere for a long time,” Marzina said.
“She’s going to Grandmother’s tomorrow,” Taj noted.
“But only for a few days,” his twin quickly responded.
“And you and I shall be left alone,” Taj said.
“We shared our mother’s womb. I think we can share a castle without getting into too much trouble,” Marzina said mischievously. “My behavior must remain above reproach for Mother has promised me that if I don’t get into any trouble I shall go to the Forest Kingdom to our queenly grandmother for training in magic soon.”
“I have noticed,” her brother teased, “that you haven’t turned any of the servants into frogs, butterflies and birds of late.”
“I always turned them back,” Marzina said defensively.
“You and your magic are so childish,” Zagiri said. “When are you going to grow up, little sister? Men do not like women who are too clever.”
“Father liked our mother well enough,” Marzina said pertly. “I doubt I shall ever wed a mortal man. I will need a man who understands my great talents.”
“You will need a miracle, then,” Zagiri said and Taj laughed aloud.
Marzina’s face darkened briefly but then she laughed, too. “I’m too young to wed, anyway. But you aren’t, Zagiri. I wonder what kind of husband they will find for you.”
“I will find my own husband,” Zagiri replied.
“Hah!” Her younger sister snorted derisively. “You know as well as I do that our mother must approve any match we make.”
“It is bad enough to be treated like a child by Mother,” Zagiri said irritably, “but to be spoken to like one by my little sister is not to be tolerated!” She stood up from the table. “I am going to bathe, and then go to bed.”
“It is early yet,” Taj noted.
“I am leaving early for Grandmother Persis’s house. As it is not far I shall walk,” Zagiri told her siblings. “When I return I hope you two younglings will have remembered that unlike you I am grown.” Then with a toss of her golden curls she left them.
“What is the matter with her of late?” Taj wondered. “All this talk of being a grown woman while we are but children. I am the Dominus, and she has no respect for my position,” he grumbled. “When she returns we shall have to have a little talk about that.” Then he smiled at his twin. “At least you understand me, but then of course you would even if we are different in so many ways.”
Marzina leaned over and kissed her brother’s cheek. “It would have been wonderful if we had both been given the gift of magic, Taj. Just think what we could have accomplished together.”
“You have the magic of two, sister,” he said. “You will work it for both of us. It is better that I am more mortal, for magic is difficult for many Terahns to accept.”
Marzina nodded, more than well aware of the truth he spoke. “It is early yet,” she remarked. “Will you play a game of Herder with me?”
“Only if you promise not to move the pieces by magic,” he told her. “I prefer to at least attempt to use my own skills to beat you.”
“Oh, very well,” Marzina agreed, and then she giggled. “Remember the first time I moved my pieces by magic. The look on your face, Taj, was priceless.”
The young Dominus laughed at the memory. She had indeed startled him, for they had just been nine at the time. “I wasn’t certain I could believe the evidence of my own eyes,” he said, still chuckling.
“Mother couldn’t believe what I had done, but Father thought it quite amusing,” Marzina recalled. Then her beautiful little face crumpled, and she began to cry. “Oh, brother, I miss our father so much!”
Taj put comforting arms about his twin. “I miss him, too, Marzi. I am too young for this responsibility that has been thrust upon me, and I do not think I shall ever be the Dominus that our father was. And poor Mother walks such a fine line so that Terah may remain safe from all predators. Yet I cannot help but wonder if her natural prejudice against Hetar’s rulers hasn’t blinded her judgment.”
“Nay, Taj, you must believe in Mother completely. She is right not to trust Hetar. Their own recent history does not speak well of their intentions,” Marzina said. She could not tell him of the miniature of the Lord High Ruler that had appeared so mysteriously upon Zagiri’s pillow. She had promised to keep her sister’s secret, but now she worried if she should have made that promise. Her older sister had suddenly changed. She had become defiant, moody and even distracted. Marzina had never seen Zagiri behave in such a manner. She wondered if anyone else had noticed the change, or if she was even imagining it. What had happened to Zagiri? Well, perhaps a few days in the company of their Terahn grandmother would calm Zagiri. The sorrow that had so suddenly overcome her vanished. With a leftover sniffle she said, “You get the game table, Taj, and I will fetch the board and the pieces.”
The twin siblings played several games of Herder, and the evening deepened into darkest night. There were no moons, for the skies had become dense and overcast. Finally Taj and Marzina admitted to one another that they were weary, each going to their bedchamber. Marzina could not help but look in on her elder sister. Zagiri was already abed and sleeping, a smile upon her beautiful face. Relieved to see her so Marzina went to her own bed.
Zagiri had just been about to enter the Dream Plain when she had heard the door to her chamber open. The faint noise had drawn her back briefly, and through slitted eyelids she had seen the anxious face of her little sister. It had caused her to smile. Then Marzina had retreated, and Zagiri had heard her footsteps as they faded down the hall. She concentrated upon gaining the Dream Plain once more.
“Zagiri, my golden girl, where are you?” Jonah’s voice called to her.
“Here I am, my lord!” Zagiri called back to him. Then the mists of the Dream Plain parted, and she saw him waiting for her. Zagiri hurried into his arms.
“Are you ready to be brave, and to come with me, my golden girl?” Jonah asked.
“I am ready!” Zagiri said eagerly. This was so exciting, she thought. She would awaken in Hetar, and she could hardly wait. Her heart was beating wildly with her anticipation. Soon she would be this powerful man’s wife.
“Are you certain, Zagiri?” he asked her. “You must be certain that you are ready to come with me. This must be of your own free will, my golden girl.”
“I am sure, my lord. I love you!” she told him. “I must be where you are!”
“Then come, Zagiri of Terah. Come with me to Hetar. Come and be my bride,” he said to her. His arms enfolded her strongly now. “Awaken now, my golden one! Awaken in Hetar!” And his lips came down on hers, crushing her mouth in a hard, fierce kiss. His body pressed against hers.
Zagiri reveled in the touch of his mouth, the feel of his body against her, but then her head began to swim. She struggled to hold on. She could hear an unfamiliar voice whispering in her ear, bidding her to let go of her reality, and join theirs. The voice was dark and sweet, but at the same time it frightened her. Briefly she drew back, and when she did she felt his lips again on hers. Feeling secure once more, she slipped into the warm darkness beckoning her. Then suddenly she saw light ahead of her. She willed herself toward it, opening her eyes to discover herself in a strange room.
“Ah, my dear, you are with us at last,” an unfamiliar female voice said to her.
Zagiri’s green eyes focused themselves. Turning her head in the direction of the voice, she saw an older woman with ebony-black hair, skin like a gardenia and black eyes rising up from a chair next to the bed where she now lay.
“I am Lady Farah, the mother of the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. You are in my house for your protection.”
“Where is my lord Jonah?” Zagiri asked the woman, attempting to sit up, but falling back when a wave of dizziness overcame her.
“Oh, my child, do not attempt to arise quite yet. You have made a great journey, and will be weakened by it,” Lady Farah advised. “My son is safe in his own bed in his own home. When you are rested I will take you to Lady Vilia so she may see you are safely with us. It is time for her to release her hold upon life. She has lingered overlong.”
“Do you not like her, lady?” Zagiri asked, having recognized a disapproving tone in Lady Farah’s voice.
“I do not dislike her,” Lady Farah replied. “But the truth is she was never good enough for my son. She was the cast-off wife of the late emperor. She seduced him when she saw he was coming into power. She held on to him by giving him a son. Now you, my child, the daughter of a great ruler, will make my son a perfect wife. You have beauty, and you have breeding. And I will be your friend. Did you know that you have blood kin in Hetar?”
“I never thought of it,” Zagiri responded, “but my mother does have half brothers, doesn’t she?”
Lady Farah smiled toothily. “I am delighted that your mother has not forgotten from whence she sprung. Aye, my dear, you have several uncles and a grandmother in Hetar. Your eldest uncle, Mikhail, sits on the High Council as representative from The Quarter. He is a most educated and respected man who represents the finest that Hetar has to offer. You will meet him soon.”
Zagiri attempted to sit up again, and this time her head swam but briefly, and then quickly cleared. “When can I see Jonah?” she asked.
Lady Farah smiled again. “How eager you are for my son,” she purred approvingly. “You will give him many children. There is where Vilia and I always agreed. Children are most valuable commodities. Here in Hetar trade and wealth are most important. When you are wed to my son your mother will, of course, want to turn over your dower portion to him. As a princess you will surely have a great value. But gracious, I am rattling on like some old woman. Let me have the servants bring you some food and Frine. Then I will take you to meet Lady Vilia.” Lady Farah stood up and hurried from the room.
Wealth was important, Jonah’s mother had said. But would her mother turn over a dower portion to a daughter who had run away, and married a man in defiance of her mother’s wishes? Zagiri was suddenly uncomfortable with the idea that her mother would disown her. What had she done in disobeying? And even if she wanted to return home to Terah how could she? What would happen to her? Would Jonah continue to love her if Lara would not provide a dower? They had never discussed a dower.
Servants came bringing her food, and sweet Frine. Zagiri found her appetite had disappeared. Lady Farah returned, and, seeing the girl picking at the food, chided her gently, and asked if she was well.
“I am excited yet weary,” Zagiri answered her not knowing what else to say. She suspected this woman who was to be her mother-in-law would be more than disappointed if there was no dower portion for a princess of Terah forthcoming.
“Of course you are,” Lady Farah said. “I can but imagine how thrilled you must be to be marrying the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. It is a great honor.”
“He should be equally honored to have a princess of Terah for his wife,” Zagiri said, deciding that she had best be firm with this woman as her mother was firm with Lady Persis. After all, she was no longer a child. She would soon be the First Lady of Hetar, and her rank was certainly higher than this woman’s in any case.
“My son tells me you are a virgin,” Lady Farah said, stung and needing to change the subject so she might regain the upper hand over this girl. “That simply will not do, my child. How can you give him pleasures when you have no idea what pleasures are all about? I shall speak to Jonah, and have you properly broken in before your wedding night. You are seventeen, are you not? I was told Terahn girls were allowed to accept lovers once they turned fourteen.”
“We are allowed to accept lovers if we want them. I never did. I wanted no man until my lord Jonah came into my life,” Zagiri said earnestly.
“Shocking!” Lady Farah said. “And your own mother did not encourage you to take pleasures? I cannot imagine what the Domina was thinking.” She tsked.
“Jonah says he wants to be the only man who knows me,” Zagiri said.
Lady Farah looked aghast but then she laughed. “You have turned my son into a romantic. How quaint. It shall pass, however, with familiarity. Still, I shall suggest to him that you be properly trained in the amatory arts sooner than later. After all, as head of the Pleasure Guild I have a reputation to uphold. I cannot have you boring my son too quickly. Well, let us get you properly dressed. Vilia is waiting.”
Silent serving women brought a selection of gowns, and Lady Farah chose a gown of soft peach color for Zagiri. The girl was dressed. Little matching slippers with gold buckles were fitted on her feet. Her golden curls were brushed out, falling over her shoulders and tumbling down her back. Lady Farah nodded her approval. A peach-colored brocade cloak lined in ivory silk was settled over her shoulders, and Jonah’s mother led the way from the bedchamber down the stairs and into the cobbled courtyard where a large gold litter awaited the women.
Zagiri’s eyes widened at the sight of the bearers. They were the tallest men she had ever seen, and they were all perfectly matched blonds. Their totally naked bodies were bronzed and oiled. The muscles of their arms and backs rippled. Their buttocks were tight. Their groins were shaved smooth, and their manhoods were neatly encased in bejeweled golden tubes of considerable length. Around their thick necks they wore collars fashioned from both gold and silver, and studded with pearls. They were barefoot.
“Get in, my child,” Lady Farah said, gently pushing Zagiri into the litter, which was padded in silk, and filled with cushions. When they were both comfortably ensconced she drew the green silk gauze curtains. “I see you like my bearers. If you like I shall arrange for you to have a similar set. They were frightfully expensive, of course, but then you are to be the First Lady of Hetar. You should have nothing but the best. My lads have other talents, as well. Would you like to try one of them?”
“For what?” Zagiri asked.
“Why, for pleasures, you silly girl!” Lady Farah exclaimed, laughing lightly.
“No, thank you,” Zagiri responded, feeling like a fool. Did everyone on Hetar behave in this fashion? “Tell me about Lady Vilia, please.”
“I don’t know why you want to know about her,” Lady Farah said. “She is my son’s past while you are his future.”
“I was taught kindness, and this woman will die shortly,” Zagiri said. “What harm is there in my knowing about my predecessor?”
Lady Farah shrugged. “She was the second wife of Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants, who afterward became Hetar’s emperor. He shed his first wife to marry her. She is of the family Ahasferus, a very prominent clan here in Hetar. She gave Gaius Prospero three children, two daughters and a son. My son was her husband’s slave, and served as his confidential secretary.”
“Slave? My Jonah was a slave? Why was that?” Zagiri demanded to know. What else were they keeping from her? She was a princess of Terah, and she could not wed a man of low birth no matter how exciting and powerful he was.
“My son is of noble birth. His father, Sir Rupert Bloodaxe, was a great Crusader Knight as was your own grandfather, John Swiftsword. But I was not Sir Rupert’s wife. His wife had given him daughters, and he wanted a son of me. I gave him that son, and he treated Jonah with love, and devotion. But he neglected to free him before he died for children born to a man’s Pleasure Woman are considered the property of their male parent. His father’s wife, in a puerile effort to revenge herself upon me for giving her husband the son she could not, took advantage of the law, and sold my son into slavery. Fortunately Gaius Prospero purchased him, and Jonah, being clever, made himself indispensable. As for Vilia, she seduced him, and made him her lover. Later when Gaius Prospero fell in love with a beautiful woman he wanted to rid himself of Vilia, but was afraid of offending the family Ahasferus. Jonah offered to wed Vilia, and revealed at that point his heritage, making him a more than suitable match for her. Of course she was delighted. Why wouldn’t she be? She could see that Jonah was meant for greatness. She has been a devoted and faithful wife to him, always putting his interests before hers. I will give her that,” Lady Farah said. “And she did manage to birth my grandson, Egon, but he is frail. You must give my son strong sons, Zagiri.”
“Of course I will give him strong sons!” Zagiri said. Now that she knew a little more about this man she was so eager to wed she would ask him about his past, and about the poor lady who would soon die. It was obvious Lady Farah didn’t like Lady Vilia, but Jonah seemed devoted to her.
The litter came to a stop, and the curtains were drawn back by a servant. The two women exited their transport, following the servant into the house.
“You are now in the Golden District where the Lord High Ruler lives,” Lady Farah told Zagiri. “This is the house where Lady Vilia has lived in her last days. She did not want to die in the palace lest it be tainted. Come along, Zagiri.” And Lady Farah hurried briskly up a flight of marble stairs to an upper hallway.
A plump young man hurried forward. “Is this she?” he asked.
“Aubin Prospero, I present to you Princess Zagiri of Terah. This is Lady Vilia’s elder son, my dear,” Lady Farah said.
“I am so sorry about your mother,” Zagiri said to Aubin Prospero.
“It isn’t your fault,” he told her. “My half brother will get her life force shortly, and be strong again. She gives her life for him. That is the kind of mother she has been. She has chosen you to be her successor. Know that I hold no ill will toward you, Princess. And you will have the loyalty of the Merchants Guild. We honor your grandfather John Swiftsword of famed memory.”
“Thank you,” Zagiri replied. She knew little of her mother’s father but that he had sold her mother in order to further his career, and he had won his place in Hetarian society with his skills.
They had reached the door of a chamber at the end of the hallway.
“Go in,” Aubin Prospero said. “She is waiting for you. Nay, not you, Lady Farah. My mother specifically asked that the princess come alone.” He opened the door to the room and ushered her through, closing the door behind her.
Zagiri walked slowly to the curtained bed where Lady Vilia lay pale and gasping. “I have come, my lady, as requested,” she said.
“Come closer, and let me see you.” Vilia beckoned with a clawlike hand. “Aah, you are even more beautiful than I imagined. You will make Jonah very happy. Now, Zagiri of Terah, you must promise me that you will take the finest care of my husband and my son, who will shortly belong to you.”
“I promise, Lady Vilia,” Zagiri said earnestly.
“Why, you love him already,” Vilia said, surprised. “That is your innocence, and loving upbringing. Tell your mother that I thank her for that.”
“Why me?” Zagiri asked softly.
“Harder times are coming to Hetar, little princess. My Jonah will need a good woman by his side advising him, supporting him, if he is to survive, if Hetar is to survive. No ordinary woman will do, and we may need Terah’s aid. With you the First Lady of Hetar, your mother and brother are more apt to help. He already cares for you, Zagiri of Terah. He has given you a title. I have never had one despite all the years I have looked after his interests.” Vilia grew very pale, and slumped deeper against her pillows. “Watch over my son, Egon. It was foretold that he would be a great conqueror one day.”
“I will!” Zagiri said.
“I will die shortly, little princess. Take that small lavender crystal bottle from the table. Catch my life’s essence quickly, and see that my little son, Egon, drinks it. Aah! My time is finished,” Vilia cried suddenly.
Zagiri gasped as the light faded slowly from the older woman’s eyes. She quickly took up the container, blinking as a thin wisp of fog seemed to stream slowly from between Vilia’s blue lips. Zagiri captured whatever it was in the bottle as she had been instructed. When no more of the substance came forth she stoppered the vessel, tucking it into the pocket of her gown. Then she ran to the door. “Someone! Quickly!”
Lady Farah hurried forward, putting an arm about Zagiri. “Quickly. You must leave this house.”
“Wait! I have something from his mother for your grandson. He must have it now. Is the boy here?” Zagiri asked anxiously.
“Aye. Very well, we shall find him.” Taking Zagiri’s hand, Lady Farah led her through the house until finally they came to a pleasant apartment where a young boy sat quietly reading.
He was very pale and slender. Looking up, he smiled as they entered the chamber. “Grandmother, how nice. Have you come to visit me?”
“Your mother has departed,” Lady Farah said without preamble. “This is Princess Zagiri. She brings you something from your mother.”
“What is it?” the boy asked. His dark eyes had grown large with the news of his mother’s death, but he did not cry.
Zagiri withdrew the crystal bottle from her pocket. “Open your mouth, little one,” she told him, and when he obeyed without question she poured the foglike substance from the vessel into his open mouth.
The boy swallowed it eagerly. “It tastes like berries,” he told them when he had finished it all up. “Leave the crystal, Zagiri, for I shall retain it as a keepsake from my mother. Thank you.”
“Now we must go!” Lady Farah said. “You cannot be seen here. Your half brother is here, Egon. Go and find him. You must send to your father now.” She practically dragged Zagiri from the chamber, through the house and to her litter. “Quickly, quickly!” she told her bearers. “We must not be here when word gets out,” she said to Zagiri. “The simple people are so superstitious. When they learn that the Lord High Ruler has taken the Domina of Terah’s daughter to wife, and she was with his dead wife when Vilia died…” She paused. “Well, you know the rumors that will arise. Especially since the common folk are not privy to certain information.”
Zagiri was surprised by what Lady Farah said. Hadn’t she been told that poor Vilia could not die until she had met the Terahn princess? Did the people of Hetar not realize that Vilia had done a noble thing in order to preserve her son’s life? That she had personally chosen Zagiri of Terah for Jonah’s new wife? Why would anyone suspect her of…of disposing of Jonah’s old wife so she might be his new one? Her mother had not wanted any marriage between Terah and Hetar.
And then Zagiri began to recall little things that her mother had said when, curious, they would ask her to tell them about her girlhood in Hetar. Lara would tell them of the riches and magnificence of the Hetar of her youth. But she would also warn them that often the most beautiful things covered up the ugliest. Hetarians are manipulative, she’d said, and Zagiri was certainly seeing it in Lady Farah. For whatever reason Vilia could not die until she had met and spoken with Zagiri. And the longer she lingered the weaker her little son became. Why was that? What dark force was at work here? It had been powerful enough to bring her from the Dream Plain to Hetar. Suddenly Zagiri was afraid.
“I want to see Jonah,” she said.
Lady Farah did not notice that the girl had become pale with fright. “He will probably come to see you tonight,” she said. “And when he does we must sit together and discuss what to do with this foolish virginity of yours, my child. Vilia has a marvelous sex slave, Doran, who will be without a mistress now. He might be of help unless, of course, Jonah wants to sell him off. We have several Pleasure Houses that now cater to women here in The City. My son could make quite a fine profit on Doran. But we shall see what he wants to do. Gracious, you have become very pale, Zagiri. I imagine being transported via the Dream Plain from Terah to Hetar must have been quite exhausting. We’re almost back to my house. You must have a nice rest when we get there. You will want to be at your best when you see Jonah tonight.” And she smiled at her young companion, but the smile, Zagiri noticed, did not quite reach to her dark eyes.
