Bertrice Small - The Twilight Lord

“What of their city?” came the query.

“There are no cities of any size. Not even a small one. Terah is ruled by the Dominus from his castle.”

“It sounds quite primitive,” someone said.

“Indeed, I consider it so,” Jonah replied.

“Then how could such a primeval folk be considered a danger to Hetar?” a Knight Crusader commander demanded to know.

“We were told that the faerie woman who is its Domina had gained greater powers. You all know of her antipathy toward our emperor. It was believed that she was planning a new revenge upon Gaius Prospero that involved harming Hetar and The City itself. Rumors abounded, brief whispers heard in the main market square of The City by our spies. The emperor grew paranoid and became convinced that Terah presented a grave danger to Hetar. Nothing any of us said-myself, the young empress, my own wife, the lady Vilia-could dissuade him,” Jonah told them. “A reasonable man would see that Terah in all its centuries of trading secretly with the Coastal Kings wanted nothing to do with Hetar. Why would they suddenly decide to attack us? As for the faerie woman, while she may not like Gaius Prospero she is Hetarian-born and has never shown any animosity toward her native land that I know of.” He turned again to John Swiftsword. “You would know better than any, Swiftsword. Does your daughter have an enmity toward Hetar? I have never seen that she does.”

“Nay,” John Swiftsword replied. “Lara does not dislike Hetar. While her faerie destiny called her elsewhere, I have never known her to show disloyalty.”

“Yet she speaks of Terah as her home,” the Crusader Knight standing next to Swiftsword said suspiciously.

“She is wife to Terah’s ruler,” Jonah answered for Swiftsword. “Like any well-born and mannerly Hetarian woman, she has cleaved to her husband’s house.”

“Have you not talked enough?” King Archeron demanded. He knew the Hetarians’ propensity for debating an issue until it was ragged. “Terah and the Shadow Princes have agreed to help Hetar. Gather your forces for transport, Knight Commanders. Day will soon be breaking in the Midlands and you must have your people in place before the first light. Surprise will be your greatest advantage.”

There was agreement around the high board, and as the Knight Commanders moved from the great table to gather their troops into the proper formations, a bevy of Shadow Princes appeared from the darkness in the back of the great hall of King Archeron. Their garments almost blinding in their whiteness, each of the princes attached themselves to a Knight Commander and soon the hall began to empty. Eventually only the Coastal King and Lord Jonah remained. It was then a prince came to the emperor’s right hand and with a bow to King Archeron, transported Lord Jonah back to The City.

Alone for the first time in months the Coastal King sighed audibly. He did not need to be told that Gaius Prospero was through. Lord Jonah’s careful and reasonable speech had already begun rallying the Crusader Knights away from the emperor. But he would lobby with others to prevent Jonah from becoming the next emperor. Hetar needed to return to its old way: a new High Council was needed. That was an idea he would most certainly get behind and so would his brother kings.

But now while the rest of Hetar was busy fending off the forces of the Twilight Lord, the Coastal Kings would meet together and begin ridding their territory of those Hetarians who had usurped their lands. The manufactories attempting to replicate cheap luxury goods in a bad imitation of Terahn products would be torn down. Greenery would be planted again and the sand dunes would protect them once more from the winter seas. The beaches would grow wide as they had once been. It was time to slough off the invaders and return to what they had once been. The new government would be so busy repairing the damage done to the Midlands and to The City itself that little thought would be given to the faraway Coastal Kingdom.

King Archeron smiled to himself. It would soon be time to bring their living vessels from the sea caves where they had been hidden from Gaius Prospero and his minions. Had they possessed such vessels they would not have lost half of their army. It would soon be time to set to sea again and meet the Terahn traders at the midpoint of the Sagitta. Aye, in just a little while life would be back to normal once again.

THE FOUR WOLFYN MOVED carefully through the tunnel beneath The City. It had been carved from rock and was dry. How long it had been in existence they did not know. They had found its entrance only by chance when digging a foundation for one of their fire machines for their master, the Twilight Lord. The four Wolfyn were curious to see where the tunnel ended and if there was an exit into The City. If such an entry could be found it would save a great deal of damage and they might present The City intact to Kol.

At last the winding tunnel came to its end and before them was a narrow stone staircase. Cautiously the four made their way up the steps and there at its top was a door. It was locked, of course. There was no key but one of the Wolfyn took his knife and thrust it into the lock, wiggling it this way and that until they heard a distinct click. The Wolfyn placed a hand on the door and it opened, its hinges creaking noisily.

Quickly they stepped through the door to find themselves in a cellar filled with wine barrels. They could see on the other side of the chamber another set of stairs.

“Where are we?” one of the Wolfyn asked softly.

Their leader, Ulf, signaled for silence for his sharp ears had picked up the sound of feet coming toward the cellar’s door. He stepped back into the dimness with his three companions. The door at the top of the stairs opened and a pretty female carrying a silver pitcher hurried down and went directly to one of the barrels. Turning the spigot in the barrel’s head to one side she thrust her pitcher beneath it. When it was obviously full the girl closed the spigot, turned and went back up the stairs. Before she closed the door sounds of merriment could be heard coming from above them.

“It is a Pleasure House,” Ulf said. “We must wait for a bit, then we will venture above to see what we can see. Hrolf, go back and tell Lord Hrolleif that we have found a way into The City that has not been enchanted against us. When we know a little bit more of where we are we will come back and tell him.”

The Wolfyn known as Hrolf detached himself from their party and made his way back down the tunnel staircase. The three remaining Wolfyn waited patiently. Several times in the hours that passed a servant girl carrying a pitcher or two would come into the wine cellar to fill her vessels and then hurry out again. And as the cellar door opened and closed the Wolfyn listened to the sounds coming from above them.

Eventually some time passed without anyone coming for more wine. Ulf climbed the stairs, then slowly opened the door into a hallway. It was deserted and the sounds of revelry were now silent. He signaled to the two Wolfyn below to join him.

Cautiously the trio made their way through the corridor until they entered a kitchen. There they found a single servant woman taking loaves of bread from a warming oven and placing them in the baking oven. Coming up behind her they caught her, muffling her cries and forcing her into a chair. Her eyes widened in shock and terror as she recognized what they were and almost instantly she fainted. They roused her with a bucket of water.

“Whose house is this?” Ulf asked low. “And if you make any attempt to rouse help you will be killed. Cooperate and we will spare you.” He nodded and the Wolfyn whose hand covered the serving woman’s mouth removed it.