“And you do not hate me?” he said softly.

“You were a boy, Father. And your nature is a weak one, I fear,” Lara said.

He laughed ruefully. “Aye, it is,” he admitted to her.

“Your path is yours, and mine is mine,” Lara told him. “You were a good father to me while I was in your care. I love you. There is no ill will in my heart toward you.” She continued on with her adventures in the Outlands. She told him of Vartan, her first husband, the great Lord of the Fiacre. “You have two grandchildren, a boy and a girl. I will not tell you their names lest you tell someone you should not,” she said. “I am sorry, but the times in which we live bid me to caution.”

“And then you went to Terah?” her father said.

Lara told him of Vartan’s death and how she had learned it was a political assassination arranged by Gaius Prospero.

“I do not understand why the emperor would do such a thing,” John Swiftsword said wearily. Almost everything she had told him was in conflict with what he had been told, or heard, or had spent his life believing. This was his daughter, and yet she was a stranger to him. His daughter had never lied. But could this woman lie? Was she lying now? It was all very confusing to him. He was a man who functioned best in a controlled environment such as the world of Hetar had always been. Until now.

“Gaius Prospero believed in his ignorance that without Vartan, the strong union of Outlands clan families would disintegrate. It was not so, of course. But he planned even then to invade the Outlands again.”

“The Outlands belong to Hetar, Lara,” her father said. “We are only taking back what is rightfully ours. We will bring civilization and a better way of life to those people now living there. Hetar is a great world.”

“I cannot believe you believe what you are saying, Father!” Lara cried. “You know perfectly well that until recently, nothing was said of the Outlands but that it was a savage place peopled by barbarians. Hetar needs room to expand, and they think to take the Outlands.”

“Will they fight?” her father asked her.

“They are a people with a long history of independence,” Lara told him.

“We will win,” he said. “It will not be like last time when we were caught unawares,” John Swiftsword told his daughter. Then he looked carefully at her. “Were you…” he began. “Did you…?” He could not finish the question.

“Did I partake in the Winter War? Yes, Father, I did. We killed many Mercenary soldiers, Andraste and I. She sings when she fights, you know. It can be quite chilling to hear her deep, dark voice above the mayhem of battle. The last man I fought, I spared, because I recognized the son of Mistress Mildred.”

“Wilmot. I remember him. A good man. You say he and his mother are safe?”

“They are with the Shadow Princes, and very well,” she assured him.

“Where will you go now, Lara?” her father asked her.

“Home to Terah,” she told him. He did not need to know their travel plans. She could not be certain he was not spying for Gaius Prospero. Well, she had told him nothing the emperor did not already know.

Magnus Hauk listened to the conversation between father and daughter. He realized that he felt sorry for his father-in-law. John Swiftsword was a decent man, but as he had himself admitted, he was weak. Magnus could see that Lara’s tale of her adventures had disconcerted and even bewildered him. He had trusted the daughter he once knew, but he was not certain he could trust this daughter before him now. The Dominus decided to give the Hetarian something on which he could depend.

“John,” he said quietly, “I want you to know that I love Lara. I will keep her safe as long as I live. She is already beloved in Terah for removing the curse of Usi from our menfolk. You can be proud of her.”

The confusion left the older man’s eyes. “I am glad my daughter has been so fortunate in her husband,” he said. “Are you really the ruler of Terah?”

“I am. My title is Dominus, and Lara’s is Domina,” Magnus answered with a smile. “We do not keep a court, however. We are a simple people.”

John Swiftsword nodded in agreement. “I do not enjoy the grandiose, although my wife would take to it if offered.” He stood. “I think it best that I go now. Susanna will wonder where I have gotten to for she worries that anything should happen to me.”

“What would happen to her if it did, Father?” Lara asked him, curious to learn the answer. “Is it like the Guild of Mercenaries?”

“Only partly,” he said. “If I were dead she would be moved to a smaller home again, but she would otherwise live quite comfortably for the rest of her days. And our sons, too. I regret that you did not get to meet them, Lara.”

“Your wife has not even told them of my existence,” Lara said softly. “Not even Mikhail whom I cradled and cared for as a girl.”

He flushed at her rebuke. “I am sorry, Daughter,” he said.

Immediately Lara felt remorse for her words. “Nay, Father, I understand Susanna’s motives. She has four sons to consider, and I am not her child.”

“But you are my child,” he said with a show of spirit.

Lara smiled at him. “In the Outlands I was called Lara, daughter of Swiftsword,” she told him. “And I have always been proud to be your child.” Standing on her toes she kissed his cheek. “Goodbye, Father. I do not know if we will meet again.”

Quick tears filled his eyes, and he blinked them away. “Goodbye, Lara,” he said.

Then he turned, and gave his hand to Magnus Hauk. “Keep her safe, my lord,” he told the Dominus. “She is my only daughter, and her mother’s memory still lives within me.” Then turning, John Swiftsword departed the garden where they had sat.

Magnus Hauk put his arms about his wife. “He is a good man, Lara.”

“I know,” she answered him. “But he is Hetarian. I have confused him with my tale. Once we are parted a short time, however, he will once again believe what he is told by Gaius Prospero and his ilk, because it is comfortable to believe it. Believing it will not threaten his status, or endanger his wife and sons. His loyalty will always be to Hetar first,” she said sadly. “I am glad you agreed to take in the Outlands families, Magnus. At least there will be no bloodshed, and I know my father will not die this time.”

“This emperor is a wily fellow,” Magnus said thoughtfully. “And he desires you, wife. Are you aware of that?”

Lara laughed. “Gaius Prospero is simply greedy for the finest that life has to offer, no matter what it is. It is his advisor, Jonah, who is truly dangerous. One day Gaius Prospero will discover that to his detriment.”

The innkeeper hurried into the garden. “My lady, I did not realize that you were the daughter of a Crusader Knight,” he said. “Why did you not say so when you arrived? I am honored to have you in my house. I remember the great stir you caused several years back among the Pleasure Guilds. But forgive me – the emperor has sent a message, and a litter for you.” He handed her the small rolled parchment.

“Tell the litter bearers to return to their master,” Lara said as she opened the message from Gaius Prospero, and perused it.

The innkeeper stared openmouthed in surprise at her. She was refusing the emperor’s command?

“Go!” Lara told him impatiently, and he hurried off.

“What does he want?” Magnus asked her.

“To see me privately on a matter of interest, he writes,” Lara replied.

“You don’t intend to go?” her husband queried her.

“I will go, but I will use my own means of transport,” Lara told him. “I see I have not yet instilled in Gaius Prospero the proper amount of respect for who I am and what I have become. It is time that I did that. Come, my lord, I must fetch Andraste.”

They returned to their chamber, and Lara changed from the simple gown she was wearing into her leather trousers and silk shirt. She slipped her doe-skin vest with the silver edged horn buttons on, and then calling Andraste from the shadows put the leather scabbard across her chest. The sword with its woman’s head peered over her left shoulder. Then she drew on her leather boots. “Am I suitably intimidating?” she asked her husband with a small smile.

“He lusts after you,” Magnus said. “There is nothing you can do to prevent that.”

“It is not his lust that concerns me,” Lara said. “I want him to be afraid of me, my lord husband. So afraid that he will consider well the folly of attempting to seek out Terah at any time in the near future.” She kissed him, and with a smile disappeared from his sight in a small mist of mauve.

GAIUS PROSPERO looked up from the table where he had been going over the invoices concerning new merchandise just received in his warehouses. Lara was standing before him, observing him. “I did not hear you come in,” he said. “You were not announced.” He stood up and came toward her.

Lara held up her hand, and he found his progress impeded. “You will not come any closer, my lord,” she said to him. “I returned your litter and came by my own means of transport, magic. I shall depart the same way. What do you want of me, Gaius Prospero?” She lowered her hand, but he found he still could not move toward her.

“You had no magic, or claimed to have none when you left the City,” he said. “Now it would appear that your mother’s blood flows hot in your veins, Lara.” He gave her a weak smile, for the truth be known, he found himself a little nervous in her presence now. Still he could not resist speaking with her one more time. Without Jonah hovering near his elbow. Without Vilia and Anora leaning forward to catch every word he spoke to the beauteous faerie woman.

“Why have you sought to see me again, my lord? What is it you want of me?” she repeated. “Tomorrow I mean to depart Hetar. I doubt I shall ever return.”

“You are Hetarian,” he said. “You are everything that is good about Hetar. You are beautiful, strong, intelligent and wise, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword. Return to Hetar, and I will place you at the pinnacle of power.”

“And where is that?” she asked him mockingly.

“By my side, as my empress,” he said.

Lara laughed, but it was a cold sound. “Gaius Prospero, I have power of my own. I do not need yours. I have faerie power, which is stronger than any power you could offer me. I am the Domina of Terah. I am loved by a great man, Magnus Hauk. When you killed Vartan of the Fiacre, were you driven more by your desire to annex the Outlands or your lust for me? You sought power first, and now that you have it you have decided you want me, too. Beware, my lord, for power, all power, is an illusion and illusions eventually fade away. I have a destiny to fulfill, Gaius Prospero. I do not believe you will play a great role in that destiny.”

“Foolish woman, do you not realize what it is I offer you?” he demanded, and attempted to move toward her again.

Andraste began to hum softly in Lara ear. “Show him your power,” the spirit in the sword told her.

Lara drew the weapon forth, holding it before her. “My magic is protecting you from your own folly, Gaius Prospero. Were you able to approach me I should be forced to slay you for your insolence. Listen, and Andraste will sing for you. It is a song usually heard only by those about to feel the kiss of her sharp blade. It was heard by those I fought and slew in the Winter War.”

He could see the sword’s jeweled eyes opening, and then Gaius Prospero heard the dark voice as it began to sing.

“I am Andraste, and I drink the blood of the traitor, the betrayer, the foolish who cannot see the truth! Fear me, Gaius Prospero, and pray to your god that we never meet in battle, for if we do I will sup upon your very essence!”

The color drained from Gaius Prospero’s plump face. His legs felt weak beneath him. “You have killed?” he said in a terrified voice, looking directly at Lara.

“Did you not put about the rumor that I had, my lord?” Lara mocked him. “Well, ’tis truth. I took the head of Durga, once Head Forester, from his thick shoulders when through bribery he attempted to subvert Hetar’s laws. He was my first kill. I slew Mercenaries in the Winter War who at your bidding had invaded the lands of the Tormod and the Piaras, enslaving its people, stealing its wealth. And when Adon killed my husband, Vartan, I slew both him and his stupid wife without mercy. Yes, Gaius Prospero, I wield this sword with skill, and I am not afraid to kill with it. I am not the girl you sold off eight years ago while complaining your profit was not enough. I am Lara, Domina of Terah, daughter of Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries. I fear neither you nor the might of Hetar. You insult me with your suggestions. You betray your wife, Vilia, who has been devoted to you. As for that pretty creature you call your second wife, I know her not. But you do her an injustice asking me to stand by your side and be your empress. Both your women deserve better of you.”