“How is it possible that I can hear you?” the priest asked her.

“I am Hetarian born, my lord Arik. I am the daughter of John Swiftsword, the Crusader Knight, and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries. The curse that Usi the Sorcerer placed on Terah was not on your women, my lord, but on the men who listened to the women who helped them defeat the sorcerer. Your women have never lost the ability to speak, but your men had their ears stopped up so they could not hear the voices of Terahn females. I, however, am not born of this place, and so the curse did not extend to me.”

“Amazing!” the priest said. “But you said you need my help? How can I help you, my lady Lara?”

“Magnus has told me that Usi was a member of this order who was sadly seduced by the forces of darkness,” Lara said. “Did he remain within these temple precincts?”

“Sometimes, after he had gained power, he did. And he built the castle in which the rulers of the Terahn Dominion reside today,” Arik said.

“You did not tell me that Usi lived in the castle!” Lara exclaimed.

“I had forgotten about it until my uncle just now reminded me,” the Dominus said.

“I believe if I can find the curse he uttered against you,” Lara told the priest, “that I can reverse it. Magnus believes it could be written in the Book of Terah.”

“Indeed, Nephew, that is possible, but it could also be somewhere within your own castle,” Arik Hauk said.

“That should have been the first place we looked,” Lara said with a sigh.

“But the castle is so public,” the Dominus said. “I think it more likely Usi would have hidden his curse, if indeed he even wrote it down, here at the temple.”

“Sorcerers always write their words down once they have decided upon what they will say. Each one has a book of curses, for they never know if they might not use them again,” Lara explained. “He could have written these words in the Book of Terah, or he could have a separate book. Well, we are here, so I suppose it best we begin our search here – with your permission, my lord Arik.”

“It is not my permission you need, but that of the High Priest Aslak,” Arik said.

“You are his duly elected successor,” the Dominus noted. “I have heard that Aslak has grown old and feeble. That you make the decisions for the temple now.”

“Indeed I do, Nephew,” Arik Hauk said. “But I always place everything before the High Priest first as a matter of courtesy, you understand. Aslak is, by virtue of having lived all but twelve years of his life here in the temple, suspicious of women. And should he hear your lovely voice, my lady Lara, he would count it magic. And Aslak hates magic. He believes all magic is evil. He learned his lessons at the knee of an ancient High Priest who had been taught by one who had been taught by one who was a young man when Usi the Sorcerer was drawn to darkness. For these men, magic was wicked.”

“Magic can indeed be wicked,” Lara agreed, “but most magic is good.”

“Usi’s magic was dark and cruel,” Arik said. “But you would appear to be a creature of light and goodness. I have always believed in a balance between dark and light. This is not an opinion I share publicly, for Aslak is most tenacious in his own beliefs, but many among us believe in this balance.”

“Mortals share this balance, too,” Lara said softly.

Arik smiled. “You are as wise as you are beautiful, I see,” he said.

“Can you help us, Uncle?” the Dominus wanted to know.

Arik nodded. “I can. But first, Magnus, you must pay your respects to Aslak, for he will already know of your visit. But how to explain you have been accompanied by a woman, Nephew? For he will know that, too,” Arik said.

“We will say one of the Coastal Kings in Hetar with whom we trade has sent me the woman as a possible bride. And as she pleases me well, I have come to see if she meets with your approval as the oldest male in our family. You, of course, if asked, will say you are reserving your judgment until you know Lara better.”

Arik looked at Lara’s disapproving face and chuckled. “Your prospective bride does not seem happy with this explanation,” he noted.

“I will agree to it as it seems the simplest and best explanation,” Lara said. “But I am not of a mind to take another husband.”

“So you loved your husband,” Arik said.

“His name was Vartan, Lord of the Fiacre, and head of the Outlands High Council. He was a good man,” Lara elaborated. “I have two children, too. A son, Dillon, and a daughter, Anoush.”

“Where are your children now?” the priest inquired.

“My children are in the care of blood kin of my husband’s,” she explained. “My husband was assassinated on the orders of an ambitious Hetarian, Gaius Prospero. Hetar has always believed the Outlands are savage and lawless, but that is not so. I have lived both in Hetar and the Outlands, and I far prefer the Outlands.”

“Would you consider my nephew as a husband, my lady Lara?” Arik surprised her by asking. His look was curious.

“I don’t want another husband,” she told him. “I have been told I have a destiny, and so I must be free to follow that destiny.”

“But if you were free to wed again,” the priest persisted. “Would you choose Magnus, my lady Lara?”

“Your nephew is too overbearing, and I too independent,” Lara said. “It is better that opposites attract rather than like, my lord Arik.”

“Perhaps,” Arik murmured with a small smile. He liked this woman, and had decided in the short time of their acquaintance that she would make his nephew an excellent wife. She was every bit as strong as he was, and Magnus would not wear her down until she bored him. This woman would never bore his nephew.

“When should I see Aslak?” Magnus asked, breaking into his uncle’s thoughts.

“He will be having his evening meal now, and we should be served ours shortly. Afterwards, and before the last prayers of our day,” Arik decided.

The door to the chamber in which they were all now standing opened, and a line of servants came in bearing food. Lara grew silent again. They were seated, Arik at the table’s head, and his guests on either side of him. Plates and implements were set before them. Dishes and platters were passed about by the servants. Lara accepted each dish with a polite nod of her head to the silent servants. Wine was poured. They ate their meal in silence as was the custom of the temple dwellers, and as the servants remained in the chamber, Lara knew she must not speak again until they were alone. When the meal was finally cleared away the two men arose from the table. Magnus bent to kiss Lara on the cheek.

“I will return shortly, lady,” he told her, and she smiled and nodded.

“She is very intelligent,” Arik remarked as they hurried from the guest house to the High Priest’s dwelling. “It is long past time you took a wife, Magnus. The faerie woman from Hetar is fresh blood. And she intrigues you, I can see.”

“There is time yet for me to take a wife and sire children,” the Dominus said. “I am in no hurry. She is quite magical, Uncle. The sword and the staff she carries both speak, as does her horse. Lara’s faerie mother gave the horse wings so he might fly across the Sea of Sagitta to join her. She claims she has killed with that sword. Such a formidable woman may not be the woman for me. I need a woman who will give me children willingly. A wife who will mother those children as a woman should, and not go off seeking a destiny. She is beautiful, and I am fascinated with her, I will admit. But I do not know if I would wed her.”

“She is precisely the wife for you, Magnus,” his uncle said. “The kind of woman you believe you seek to wed would bore you in a year. This is a strong female, and have you not possibly considered that the destiny that has been predicted for her may also be your destiny? Have I not told you, Magnus, that change is coming? And perhaps now is not the time for children, Nephew. One day, yes. But first you must cope with what is to come. I play the traditionalist, Nephew, but you know that I am also progressive in my thoughts and ideas. I can do little until Aslak has gone on into the next life, but when he has departed, Magnus, I shall implement my plans for the Brotherhood of the Great Creator, and for the Daughters of the Great Creator, too.

“I will do all I can to help you find the written words of the curse contrived by Usi the Sorcerer. Imagine the possibilities for the Dominion, for all of Terah, if we could once again hear our women’s voices, listen to their counsel and their ideas? We have not moved forward in over five hundred years because of that wretched curse, Magnus!”

“Uncle, I am astounded by the breadth of your vision,” the Dominus remarked.

Arik smiled almost sardonically. “Indeed, Nephew,” he said dryly. “Some would claim I am touched by the darkness because I desire change.”

“Not you,” Magnus Hauk replied to his uncle.

They reached the house of the High Priest, and were admitted into his presence. Magnus Hauk went immediately to the frail old man seated in a large, well-cushioned chair, and taking his thin hands into his own big ones pressed them first to his head, then his heart and finally to his lips. “I greet you, my lord Aslak,” he said, “and I thank you for your hospitality.”

“You have come with a woman,” the reedy voice of the old man said.

“I have, my lord. The girl was sent to me from Hetar, a gift of a Coastal King. He thought I might take her as a bride,” the Dominus said easily.

“And you have brought her to your uncle for his approval?” the high priest quavered.

“I have, my lord,” Magnus Hauk answered.

“And what think you, Arik? Is the girl worthier than a Terahn girl to be the Domina of the Dominion?” the tremulous old voice asked. “Must your nephew take a foreigner to wife?”