“I am sorry, my darling,” he apologized and kissed her lips as she raised her face to him. The kiss deepened, tongues entwined and he groaned, rolling her onto her back.

Lara took his face between her two hands. “I want to take pleasures with you, my husband,” she told him. Not want, she thought. She needed him. Remembering how Kaliq had wiped away the horrors of her time in the Dark Lands, Lara now sought to wipe away Kol’s earlier assault on her. Kol sought to possess and control her. But Magnus sought to give and take pleasures with her because he truly loved his wife. She kissed his mouth, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids. She loved him! And she would not allow the Twilight Lord to destroy what was between them.

Magnus let his hands roam over her lithe body. He caressed every inch of her, his fingertips moving seemingly from memory. And then his lips began to follow the trail of delicate shivers left behind by his fingers. They slid down the curve of her slender throat, lingering in the faintly shadowed hollow to feel the thrumming of the blood coursing through her veins. His dark golden head lay for several long moments upon her chest, while he inhaled the familiar fragrance of her body. He felt her fingers tangling in his thick hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

Her beautiful breasts beckoned him onward and his mouth closed over a nipple. He suckled hungrily, grazing the tender flesh lightly with his teeth. She murmured low.

He moved one hand down to slip between her legs, stroking the soft flesh of her inner thighs, trailing down the narrow slit dividing her nether lips, pushing past them. Locating the sensitive little nub of her he teased it, and all the while he sucked on her nipple.

Lara sighed. She would not forget the nightmare in which Kol attacked her but lying now in her husband’s arms as he made tender love to her, it receded into the dimness of her mind as he pushed two fingers into her love sheath. His hand was quickly drenched with her juices as he swirled them about within her tight, hot sheath. He moved his head from one breast to the other now and his fingers moved in rhythm with his lips as he pleasured her slowly, gently until she was writhing with her building hunger and he could no longer keep from joining himself with her.

“Oh yes, my darling!” Lara cried as he withdrew his fingers and mounted her. She reached for his love rod, guiding it eagerly into her sheath, sighing as he thrust deep.

Her slender limbs wrapped themselves about him as he drove deeper and deeper and deeper until Lara was almost mindless with the joy his passion engendered within her. She shuddered with her pleasure, her hands caressing his long lean body.

Magnus Hauk slowed his pace, drawing himself almost all the way out of her sheath and then slowly, slowly, pushing himself back inside her heated body. His mouth took hers in a lingering kiss that left them both breathless. “I love you, my faerie wife, and I will allow no one to harm you, awake or dreaming,” he told her.

She almost wept at his declaration. If only he knew how helpless he really was among those who possessed magic. But this declaration of his love was wonderful. She tightened the muscles of her sheath about him and he groaned with delight as his juices spilled forth. What a pity, Lara thought, as she allowed herself to drift away surrounded by his arms and his love, that this was not the night to create a son for him. But that time would come, she vowed, and then she cried his name aloud as the final pleasure washed over her, leaving her weak and content.

They slept the few hours remaining of the night. It was to be their last peaceful moment for some time, for in the morning the Dominus’s brother-in-law Corrado brought word that the Hetarian fleet was preparing to set sail for Terah.

CORRADO, MARRIED to the Dominus’s youngest and favorite sister, Sirvat, had been lurking off the coast of Hetar, something Terahns never did. They always met their trading partners at the midpoint of the Sea of Sagitta which separated the two kingdoms. But recently with the talk of war Corrado had taken it upon himself to spy on Hetar and Lara had aided him by making the small vessel he was sailing invisible. He had gone into the harbor where the Hetarian ships were being assembled and seen the men, the supplies and the weapons being loaded upon the waiting vessels. Then he had beached his own small craft in a hidden cove and walked into the village of the Coastal Kings where he sat in a tavern and listened to the talk about him.

“And what is the talk?” Lara asked him as they sat in the Domina’s private dayroom. “Is their emperor still propagating his lies about Terah?”

“Aye, but then you would have expected it, Domina,” Corrado replied. “But I learned a great deal more as I ate a rather tasty fish stew. The women of Hetar are in rebellion over Gaius Prospero’s latest campaign. They will do nothing to help their men. The Pleasure Houses in The City have opened their doors to the women who would come to shelter there and have refused service to all men. The new headmistress of the Pleasure Guilds is being made to look useless, for Lady Gillian is one of the leaders of this movement and she is greatly respected due to her many years in power, as well as her reputation for kindness and fairness. The women say that the emperor instigates wars, claiming that Hetar is in danger when it is not, and promises riches to everyone, yet the common folk of Hetar grow poorer with each of these misadventures. What is worse, they claim, is that their men are being killed off and the women and children are being left to fend for themselves. What kind of a world is Hetar that families do not care for one another when they lose members? Profit and acquisition seem to be their only values.

“The poor are being swept up to serve in many capacities. The men, all but the truly old, are being sent to the ships; the women and children go to the factories and to the farms in the Outlands. They are no better than slaves now. Hetar, not being a sea-faring nation but for the Coastal Kings who traded with us, is attempting to set to sea with a group of inexperienced men. If any storms should hit while they are afloat, I fear many lives will be lost,” Corrado concluded. “This emperor of theirs must be totally mad to even attempt such folly.”

“It was very brave of you to go into the tavern and listen, Corrado,” Lara told him. “Did you learn the date they have scheduled to sail forth?”

“They were to sail in three days’ time, Domina.”

“So with any luck, they are three days behind you,” Magnus Hauk said.

Corrado laughed. “They would need a great deal of good fortune, my lord. More than likely they are still struggling out of the harbor of the Coastal Kings who have refused to partake in this venture. They have trained the more intelligent among the Hetarians to manage the ships, but will not sail with them. New ships had to be built to transport men and weapons. They found the merchant ships would not do, and besides, the captains of those merchant ships would not put them in the hands of strangers, especially as those ships are alive, and house sea spirits.”

“I will contact my mother and have her raise the fog bank off our coastline,” Lara said to her husband. “They will get no closer than a hundred miles.” She hurried off to her private chamber, and pouring water from a stone pitcher into her golden reflecting bowl Lara looked into the crystal liquid and called to her mother to come to her.

“Good morning, darling!” Ilona’s voice echoed about the chamber.

“Hetar has set sail or is attempting to, Mother,” Lara told her parent. “The emperor could not be deterred in his foolishness. Will you set the fog you promised Magnus a hundred miles off the coast, please?”

“Oh, I can do much better than that,” Ilona chuckled. “Within the hour all of Hetar’s little fleet will be thoroughly encased in a fog as thick as a mutton stew. The only way they will be able to escape it will be if they become turned about and are sailing toward Hetar.” She laughed merrily. “And I believe I shall even conjure up a few fearsome sea monsters to frighten them even further.”

“Don’t hurt them, Mother,” Lara said. “Their ships are peopled by fools, incompetents and innocents.”

“I shall let them sail about in the fog until their water and foodstuffs are almost gone,” Ilona said. “Then perhaps one fierce storm to buffet them the night long and they will be ready to return home, for they will be well terrified at that point. With their water and food gone they will be glad to see Hetarian shores again. I doubt Gaius Prospero can get them back to sea for another year, if then,” Ilona chortled.

“And it will certainly prove a costly venture that yields absolutely no return,” Lara noted. “Thank you, Mother.”

The queen of the Forest Faeries flashed her daughter a brilliant smile and then was gone from the surface of the reflecting bowl, and when Lara waved her hand over the vessel the water itself vanished from the bowl leaving it completely dry. Lara placed it back on its shelf and went to find her husband, so she might relate to him her mother’s plans for the Hetarian fleet.

Both Magnus Hauk and Corrado laughed heartily when Lara told them her mother would send several sea monsters to be clearly seen by the Hetarian ships.

“They are sure to wet themselves,” Corrado chuckled. “There won’t be a dry pair of breeches to be had and their ships will stink of piss.”

Within the hour as Ilona had promised, the Hetarian fleet found itself encased in a thick fog. The watchtowers along the Terahn coast reported that they could see a thick wall of gray sitting atop the horizon. Aboard the Hetarian ships there was consternation. There should be no fog upon the sea at this time of year, yet the mist was so thick they could not see a hand before their faces, let alone another vessel. Several ships hit one another over the next few hours. And then night came.

The sea surrounding them was flat. They could hear nothing but murmuring sounds of confusion coming from the ships around them. The sky was not visible at all, so there were no stars by which they might plot their course. And all about them an eerie silence prevailed. Fifteen ships had set sail, each carrying a full crew of five hundred Mercenaries, and eighty Crusader Knights. Once they reached Terah and sent back word, another fifteen ships would follow them. Over the next ten days three of the Hetarian ships escaped the fog only to find themselves back where they had started. Their inexperienced captains drew straws and two of the ships returned into the fog to seek the rest of the fleet while the third ship remained skirting the edges of the mist.

Aboard the fog-bound ships, panic began to ensue as the rations grew smaller and the water barrels began to empty. Reaching Terah was no longer an option for the Hetarians. Escaping the fog that encased them was. The air about them remained still and hot. There was not the faintest hint of a breeze and even breathing became difficult. Over the last few days the inhabitants of the ships had been badly frightened at various times by great sea dragons, some with blue and green scales, others with red and green scales, and all with long graceful necks and heads with small horns, rising from the sea around them to peer curiously down upon the vessels bobbing in the calm waters. Several of these monsters nibbled upon the ships’ masts. And one mercenary leaning over the side of his ship puking his supper suddenly found himself face-to-face with a beast who swallowed him whole and then regurgitated the man back onto the deck with a disgusted snort. Both the mercenary and the sailor who had been next to him died of their terror, to the consternation of those about them.

And then early one evening, lightning began to blaze in the foggy skies. Thunder rolled across the sea as it began to rise and roil. Darkness fell and the storm became ferocious. The Hetarian fleet was tossed upon the waters, up one side and down another. Enormous waves crashed over the ships. The men were unable to control their vessels, and one by one they sank beneath the waves, carrying all who had embarked with the fleet to their deaths.

The only ship to survive was the single one that had remained outside the fog. It had seen the lightning and heard the thunder within the thick gray mist, but the sea surrounding that one ship had remained calm. When the morning came, the sunrise splashing across the blue waters of the now peaceful Sagitta and tinting the gentle waves golden, the sailors upon the surviving vessel saw to their horror that the waters were strewn with the wreckage of the fourteen other ships and the bodies of all those who had sailed upon them. The wind in its favor, the remaining ship returned to its port in the harbor of the Coastal Kings to report what had happened.