A Distant Tomorrow Page 18

  For the next few days the Dominus, Arik and Lara read through the holy books of Terah, which were never finished, for each succeeding generation added to them. They reached the era in which Usi the Sorcerer had entered the brotherhood as a novice. They read of his progress as he made an assent through the various levels of the religious order. And then there came the first mention of difficulty with Usi, and the realization, too late, that he had turned from the light to the darkness. And the darkness brought Usi incredible power even after he had been expelled from the brotherhood. The sorcerer built a large army for himself, and overthrew the ruling royal family, systematically murdering them as he found them. But some escaped the sorcerer’s vigilance, going into hiding.

  Usi had a fierce appetite for female flesh. He kept a great house of women for both his salacious pleasure, and to torture, for he gained more pleasure from inflicting pain than from merely copulating with a female. The Terahns began to hide their women in an attempt to protect them, but families caught shielding their wives, daughters, sisters and others were subject to great public humiliation. The women were publicly raped multiple times while their men were whipped until their backs were raw. Virgins were taken to the sorcerer for his delectation. Eventually the resistance ceased, and families took the chance that Usi would not take one of their women if they were discreet, and did not venture out too often.

  All the profits from the trade with Hetar went into Usi’s pocket until one of his braver aides ventured that the craftsmen and women needed something if they were to continue in their work. Tools needed to be replaced, looms and spinning wheels repaired, and nothing could be had for free. Grudgingly the sorcerer gave a minute portion of his profits to the villages, threatening them with slow painful deaths if the quality of their goods grew shoddy. It was a time of terrible unhappiness, the books of Terah recalled in great and graphic detail.

  And then one brave woman, a distant relation of the former ruling family, decided that Usi’s reign of terror must end. She convinced a brother to accept a place that had been offered him in Usi’s court. And to her brother’s apparent distress the woman, whose name was Geltruda, allowed herself to be innocently seen on several occasions by the sorcerer. But always her mien was virtuous and meek. Fascinated by Geltruda’s beauty and modesty, Usi approached the woman, but eyes lowered, she demurred and rejected his invitations in such a manner that he was not in the least offended. Indeed he was intrigued by her air of fearful respect for him while maintaining her unworthiness to be even considered for his bed.

  As the weeks went by Usi’s lust for Geltruda grew, but to everyone’s surprise the sorcerer was patient in his quest for this woman. Finally she admitted to him that while he was her ruler, and she very much wanted to obey him, her brother must give his permission for Geltruda to go to Usi’s bed. To no one’s surprise the brother agreed. But what neither Usi nor his court was aware of was that Geltruda and her brother had planned it all. Usi had no heirs. The Hauk family, Terah’s rightful rulers, would be restored if all went as Geltruda had planned. And it would if her brother would just play his part, and be brave.

  On the night Geltruda chose to give in to Usi’s lusts, her entire body, even her hair, was bathed in a fatal poison. It would take several hours for the poison to kill Geltruda, and by that time Usi would also be dead. Smelling of night-blooming lilies she entered his private chamber shyly, admiring the sorcerer’s physique, worrying that his manhood might be too large for so dainty a woman as she. The sorcerer could not contain his burning desire for Geltruda, but he was a master of seduction nonetheless, and took his time with her. His lips kissed every inch of the woman’s trembling body. He suckled her breasts greedily. His tongue licked and caressed her with fiery ardor. Then, mounting her, he used her enthusiastically unaware that even as his crisis approached he was dying.

  And then Usi became aware all too late of what was happening to him. “What have you done, woman?”

  “I have, with my brother’s help, freed Terah!” Geltruda gasped, near her end. Then the pupils of her eyes dilated, and she died.

  With his own dying breath, Usi the Sorcerer laid a curse upon the people of Terah.

  “Is it written there?” Magnus Hauk asked Lara, who had been reading the tale. It was evening, and they were alone.

  Lara shook her head. “The curse is not here,” she said.

  “We are confounded then,” the Dominus said.

  “Not necessarily,” Lara replied.

  “Why do you think that?” he asked her.

  “The sorcerer was not here when Geltruda killed Usi. Where was he? Most likely in the castle. Usi’s private chamber is mentioned several times in the text. Where is that chamber, Magnus? That is where he would have kept his book of spells. I should have considered that before. The book would not be here at the temple, nor would those spells be written down in the books of Terah for all to see and use. No! He would have kept the book hidden in his own rooms. And a spell so potent would have had to be written before he could use it. We must return to the castle as soon as possible, and search those rooms.”

  “But no one will know where Usi lay his head after all this time,” the Dominus said. “We will have to search every chamber in the castle, and there are many.”

  “Given Usi’s delight in torture, his secret chamber would be someplace a woman’s cries could not be easily heard,” Lara observed.

  “The old dungeons, perhaps?” the Dominus suggested.

  “I think not. Too many of Usi’s ordinary prisoners would be close by, to overhear. More than likely a tower room, where he could easily vanish if enemies approached.”

  “Would he not be trapped there?”

  “He undoubtedly had the power of shape-shifting as many magic folk do,” Lara replied. “He could always become a mouse, and slip through a crack, or a bird, and fly from the window, Magnus.”

  “Do you have such power?” the Dominus asked her curiously.

  “Yes,” she answered him. “I rarely use the talent, for it is difficult.”

  “Sometimes I think I should be frightened of you, Lara,” he told her.

  “No,” she responded. “You need not fear me. I told you that my magic is used only for good.”

  “And you do not fear the darkness?” he asked her.

  “No. I need not, for I am the very essence of light, my lord Dominus.”

  “I will find my uncle and tell him we will leave at first light,” he said.

  “Yes,” Lara agreed. “I am anxious to return to your castle and seek out this hidden place. Usi’s book of spells will be there. I am certain!”

  “The High Priest wanted to see you before we left. I must honor that request. I will speak with Arik and arrange for it tonight before we sleep,” Magnus said. He arose from the table where they had been seated. “I will be back for you shortly.”

  When he had gone from the guest house Lara dug into her saddlebag and retrieved a carved and gilded wooden peach. Opening it, she drew out a simple gown of pale green silk with long flowing sleeves, a straight skirt and a modestly draped neckline. She had no sandals, but her bare feet would not be considered untoward on a summer’s night. Lara quickly put on the gown, brushed her hair, and rebraided it into a single plait. Then she draped a long matching veil over her head. There was no mirror in the guest house, but Lara knew she looked every inch the proper woman.

  Returning the Dominus was surprised to find her so modestly garbed. “I did not know you had such a gown with you,” he said.

  “Would you have me appear before your High Priest garbed as a warrior woman, my lord Dominus?” she countered.

  “Your look is deceptively innocent,” he remarked.

  She smiled mischievously. “I believe the High Priest will find me quite suitable,” she told him. “Now let us go, my lord Dominus.”

  Taking her arm he led her from the guest house.

  Chapter

  8

  THE HIGH PRIEST of the Brotherhood
of the Great Creator peered sharply at Lara with his rheumy old eyes. He was pleased to see that both her demeanor and her dress were modest. He had never been to Hetar, and he knew little about it. But stories he had heard in his youth declared that Hetar was a venal and licentious world. The woman before him seemed pleasant enough, but something fretted him about her. When she met his gaze for a brief moment, her emerald eyes to his clouded ones, he knew exactly what it was.

  “She is faerie!” he declared in a hard and shaking voice.

  “Yes, the Coastal King said she was half-faerie,” the Dominus said.

  “She will have magic, and magic is evil. It cannot be tolerated here in Terah,” the High Priest replied. “Kill her, Magnus Hauk, and her magic will be destroyed. Hetar has sent her to harm us, I am certain of it. If you will not slay her I will have my guards do it before she infects you with her evil — if she has not already done so.” He now glared at Lara with disdain.

  “There is something you should know about this lady, my lord Aslak,” Arik said quietly. “We can hear her voice.”

  The old man jumped backward with shock. “Evil!” he insisted pointing a bony finger at Lara.

  “No, my lord Aslak,” Arik told the high priest. “We hear her voice because she is not of Terah, but even more amazing, she had told us that our women do indeed speak. It is we who cannot hear,” he explained.

  “What blasphemy is this?” Aslak demanded angrily. “The women of Terah were condemned to be voiceless through eternity.”

  “No, my lord Aslak,” Lara said softly. “It was the men who listened to their women who were cursed. Because I am of Hetar you can hear my voice, and I have both heard and spoken with your women.”

  Aslak had grown pale at the sound of Lara’s voice. Now he stumbled backward, clutching at his chest. His eyes began to roll back in his head, and his mouth moved but no sound could be heard. Suddenly he collapsed onto the floor.

  Arik knelt, and sought for a pulse. He drew a small smooth metal square from his robes, and held it before the High Priest’s nostrils. The mirror remained clear, and unblemished. “He is dead,” Arik said sanguinely. “He was very old.” Then rising he went to the door of the High Priest’s chambers, and called out. “The High Priest has collapsed! Come quickly, my brothers!”

  And there was suddenly the ringing of a bell, and the chamber filled with the men belonging to the order.

  “The High Priest was just giving his blessing to the Dominus and his proposed wife when he collapsed,” Arik explained loudly.

  It was a reasonable explanation, and the sight of the modestly garbed and veiled woman clinging to the Dominus, her head hidden in his shoulder, certainly gave credibility to the scene.

  “He was an old man,” one of the brotherhood said. “All praise to the Great Creator for his goodness in taking Aslak in such a merciful fashion.”

  “And all hail to the new High Priest Arik,” another of the brotherhood said, and the chamber echoed with huzzahs.

  Arik nodded graciously at their acclaim. Then he said, “Nephew, take the lady Lara from this scene of sadness. It is not fit for her lovely eyes. My brothers, we must prepare our departed brother Aslak for his funeral pyre.”

  As the men of the order surrounded their fallen leader, the Dominus led Lara back to the guest house in the lake.

  “This is terrible,” Lara said softly to him. “I have killed the old man with the very sound of my voice.”

  “He died because it was his time,” Magnus Hauk said. “He was very old, and narrow in his thinking. He would have been an impediment to our plans to reverse Usi the Sorcerer’s curse upon us. My uncle will be a more forward thinking High Priest which suits me, and that will be better for Terah. There is magic here. There always was, but under Aslak’s influence those who have it were forced to keep silent.”

  “But he was so shocked at the sound of my voice,” Lara worried.

  “Your voice is a beautiful one. I think it was that beauty that overcame him,” the Dominus told her.

  Lara laughed weakly. “What a time, Magnus, to be so gallant,” she said.

  “Sit down,” he ordered her, and then he poured them goblets of wine.

  “Drink this. It will calm you. And then you must go to bed. We have an early start.”

  “But will there not be a departure ceremony of some sort?” she asked him. “Should you not be there for it? He was your High Priest, and you are the Dominus.”

  “We do not celebrate the passing of a soul from this place into the domain of the Great Creator. Death on this side of the door is the natural course for life to take,” Magnus explained. “Even as I speak to you Aslak is being placed upon his funeral pyre. Our dead are burned within the hour of their passing. That way we are able to put the past aside and concentrate upon the future. When I have seen you settled in bed I will go and pay my final respects.” Then he put her to bed as if she were a child, making certain she drank all the wine in the goblet. “I will be back within the hour,” he promised.

  But whether he was or not Lara never knew, for she slept soundly the night long, awakening to the sound of singing birds and the promise of sunrise. Magnus lay on his back next to her, sleeping peacefully. Lara observed him for several long minutes. He was a very handsome man, but rugged, much as Vartan had been. Not at all like Kaliq, who had been almost as beautiful to behold as she was, Lara thought with a fond smile of remembrance. Suddenly she became aware of the faint scent of burning on the morning wind. Aslak’s funeral pyre, she realized, as she slipped from the bed, and quickly dressed herself in her leather pants, silk shirt and vest. She was pulling on her boots when the Dominus awoke. “It’s morning,” Lara told him.

  He groaned. “I was longer than I anticipated, and then innumerable cups of wine had to be drunk to Aslak and to my uncle.”

  “We could wait a day,” she offered.

  “Nay,” he said pulling himself from the bed. “I want to find Usi’s private chamber, and the book of spells. Tell me, what does Sirvat’s voice sound like?”

  “Like rough yet delicate chimes. All of your women have exquisite voices. Usi’s curse was a cruel one that you have been denied the sound of your women’s voices. To think you never heard your mother singing to you as a child.” Lara picked up the delicate green gown she had worn the evening before, and before his astonished eyes poured it back into the open half of the wooden peach. Adding the veil, she closed the carved fruit and tucked it in her saddlebag.

  “If I had not seen you do that I should not have believed it,” Magnus Hauk said.

  “It always astounded my husband, too.”

  They both heard the door to the guest house open, and a wary look touched Lara’s face. She fell silent. The servant entered with the early meal and set a tray upon the table in the chamber outside before departing again.

  Magnus Hauk peered into the other room. “He’s gone. Let us eat, pay our respects to my uncle and then be on our way. The men-at-arms will be awaiting us.”

  Arik greeted them warmly, and as there had been no time the night before he listened to Lara’s quick explanation of where she believed the book of spells could be found. “Send word to me when you have found it,” he told them. “It should be hidden away where it can never again be used,” the new High Priest said.

  “If I find it, once I have reversed the curse,” Lara said firmly, “I will destroy the book. Evil has a life all its own, and draws other evil to it, my lord Arik. We should take no chances.”

  “Then let it be as you have said,” Arik replied. “I bow to your wisdom.”

  “Not so much wisdom as caution,” Lara said with a small smile, and the two men chuckled at her observation.

  Then uncle and nephew embraced. Arik turned to Lara, and hugged her, too. “Farewell, faerie woman,” he said. “We will meet again, I have not a doubt.”

  “I hope so,” Lara told him. She liked Arik.

  They rode out from the Temple of the Great Creator on a glorious su
mmer’s morning, passing what remained of Aslak’s funeral pyre on a nearby green hillock as they rode. The day remained fair, and by sunset they once again espied the towers and turrets of the castle of the Dominus.

  “Tomorrow,” Lara said, “I will ride about the castle, and see what I can see.”

  Sirvat was awaiting them, eager to learn what had transpired. Magnus Hauk left Lara and his sister together, asking only if husbands had been found for his three former Pleasure Women. “Tell my brother I have almost concluded negotiations for them all,” Sirvat said to Lara, who repeated the message.

  “Good,” Magnus Hauk said. “The sooner the better. I have no wish to listen to Uma’s carping once my hearing is restored.” Then he stamped off to his own quarters.

  Sirvat called for the meal to be served. Seeing but two places set at the table, Lara asked why.

  “I cannot bear their company any longer,” Sirvat admitted. “Felda is sweet, but has the disposition of a milk cow. She is too bland and placid for intelligent conversation. Alcippe’s tongue is too sharp, and she is critical of everything now that she knows she is to be wed and gone from the castle. As for Uma, well, you know her nature. And her complaints haven’t stopped since you left. I should rather be alone with my own thoughts than bear their company. Now tell me, what happened?”

  Lara carefully outlined their journey. She told Sirvat of Aslak’s demise.

  “He was a cranky old man,” Sirvat observed. “He always looked at me as if I were a bug or a beetle, and once he suggested I be sent to the Daughters of the Great Creator, as my older sisters were married. I’ll shed no tears for him,” she sniffed.

  “How well do you know the castle?” Lara asked her friend.

  “I’ve lived here all my life,” Sirvat said, “and I have explored much of it, but I’ve never come upon a chamber that might qualify as Usi’s. I would think you could feel his evil in such a place, but I want to help you search, Lara.”