“Yes,” Lady Persis agreed. “I should have a fur-lined cape. Why have you not given me one, Magnus?”

“Because I was not aware of your need, madam,” he answered her. “But your good son-in-law should be.”

“Tostig? He sees nothing but Narda’s needs,” Lady Persis snapped.

“You shall not leave here without a fur-lined cape,” Lara promised the woman.

“Well,” Lady Persis declared, “having a daughter-in-law may not be quite as bad as I thought it might be.” She cast a toothy smile at Lara, who smiled in return.

They had reached the Great Hall, and Magnus was solicitously seating his mother near the fire and signaling a servant for a large goblet of wine.

“In the name of the Great Creator do not encourage her,” Sirvat whispered to her friend. “She will want to move back to the castle and our lives will never be the same again! I remember her from my childhood. She is the most demanding of women.”

“I do not want her here,” Lara agreed, “but the truth is she was not dressed warmly enough. And where are Narda and her husband? Did they not come with her?”

“Obviously not. She has had a falling out with them. I sense it,” Sirvat fretted.

Lara moved next to Lady Persis. “Are you comfortable, and a bit warmer now?” she enquired sweetly. “Where is your daughter? Did she not travel with you?”

“Narda? Nay. She and Tostig did not want to come until tomorrow,” Lady Persis said irritably. “This is her brother’s wedding, and she behaves as if it is just an ordinary event. I will tell you that she thought Magnus was never to wed. I believe she even saw her own eldest son in his place one day,” Lady Persis confided.

“Indeed?” Lara murmured. “I fear then she will be doomed to disappointment.”

“Are you already with child?” Lady Persis asked eagerly.

Lara shook her head. “Not yet, madam, but I promise I will give my husband children in due time, and there will be a son. Those of us with faerie blood have the right to instruct nature in these matters.”

“So you could have as many sons as Magnus wanted?” Lady Persis asked.

“We will have as many as he and I think reasonable,” Lara told her. “And now I must see to the meal. Sirvat, come and keep your mother company.” She grinned mischievously at her friend as she passed. Sirvat stuck out her tongue at Lara but she returned the grin.

Over the next few days the castle was filled in every nook and cranny with family and guests arriving for the wedding. Narda and Aselma arrived with their husbands and children. They were irritated to find their accommodation was smaller than the one they had enjoyed previously. Lara smiled sweetly, and shrugged her shoulders. They had so many guests, she told them. After all, it was the wedding of the Dominus. That Lady Persis looked pleased at her daughters’ annoyance did not help the situation.

The headmen and their families from each of the seven named fjords arrived, bringing tribute and gifts to the Dominus and his bride. There were bolts of colorful fabrics, silks, satins, brocades and delicate wools. There were bowls, cups, plates and platters of gold and silver, some chased and embossed or studded with gemstones. There was jewelry for Lara: chains, rings, bracelets, earrings and necklaces. There was cattle and horses. The folk in the Light Fjord raised beautiful songbirds, and they brought their finest singers in gilded and exquisitely decorated cages. There were several braces of hunting dogs. The Dominus’s three last Pleasure Women arrived with their husbands, and bearing gifts. Uma and Dodek brought a red lacquered box filled with the finest pearls: pink, black, gold and white in color. Felda and Norval brought a pair of rare Enok puppies, tiny little dogs with round faces, perky ears and long silky fur. Alcippe and her husband, Jencir, came with a beautifully illustrated and updated history of Terah that even included Lara’s part in lifting Usi’s curse.

Kemina, High Priestess of the Daughters of the Great Creator, came with half a dozen of her priestesses. Arik arrived with an equal number of priests from the Great Temple. Lady Persis was pleased to see her younger brother again. She greeted him effusively, leading Arik to wonder what his elder sister wanted of him.

The last of the guests to come were from the Faerie Kingdom. They arrived with the dawn, transported in from the sea in a cloud of silvery mauve mist, which set itself down upon the great terrace. Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries stepped forth from the cloud. She was followed by her consort, Thanos, and their son, Prince Cirilo. The queen was garbed in an ethereal gown of various shades of green, and an elegant brown fur cape. Her long golden hair flowed over her shoulders, a crown fashioned of green gold rested upon her head. Despite their rather dramatic entrance Lara’s faerie relations quietly took their places among the other guests.

The icy season, as the Terahns called it, had arrived, but while cold the weather was fair and without snow. The wedding guests crowded out onto the large terrace overlooking the fjord, and watched the sunrise with Magnus and Lara, who wore white fur capes and nothing else. They escorted the couple into the baths to observe their physical perfection as they were disrobed, bathed and redressed. Then the bride, her groom and their guests moved on to the great hall, now decorated with winter branches and berries.

Everyone commented favorably on Lara’s gown. Of soft delicate white wool lined in silk, it was sewn all over with tiny sparkling gems that twinkled with each movement, each breath she took. Its sleeves were long and tight. The neckline fell in a graceful drape on her collarbone. The floor-length skirt hung straight and just to her ankles. About her neck Lara wore the gold chain and crystal star that her mother had given her so long ago. Ethne’s flame burned softly, but steadily. Upon her feet Lara wore bejeweled white leather slippers. Her long thick hair had been styled in many braids woven with thin bejeweled chains, and each plait was fastened with a round gold or silver clip that enclosed the tasseled hair. Atop her head was a gilded wreath of leaves. All present admitted they had never seen a more beautiful bride.

The Dominus wore a simple long white woolen tunic that fell to his ankles. Each of the full sleeves was decorated with a wide bejeweled cuff of gold embroidery matching a similar design on his round neckline. About his waist was a chain made up of oval gold links and in the center of each was a sparkling blue gemstone. On his feet he wore boots of whiteand-gold leather. His dark gold head was crowned with a wreath of gilded leaves matching his bride’s.

Taking Lara’s hand in his, Magnus led her to Arik who stood with his back to a great stone fireplace flanked on either side by carved Sea Dragons, a blaze burning brightly within. The Great Hall fell silent.

“Do you, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword of Hetar, and Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, and you, Magnus Hauk, Dominus of Terah, son of Dominus Ejnar, deceased, and his living widow, Persis, pledge yourselves to each other as husband and wife?” asked Arik, the High Priest.

“Yes!” Lara said.

“Yes!” Magnus agreed.

“Then let it be so in the eyes of the Great Creator of us all,” Arik intoned. “You are now wed, Lara and Magnus. The Great Creator bless your union, and give you many children, and much happiness in the years to come. It is done. Greet your guests.”

The bride and groom turned to face those gathered. A great cheer went up.

“Hail, Dominus Magnus! Hail, Domina Lara!” the assembly cried with one loud voice. And then they clapped their approval of the Dominus’s choice in a wife.

Magnus invited their guests to partake in the feast to celebrate his marriage to Lara. Everyone found their places at the tables set up in the Great Hall, and servants quickly began bringing in the food. There were large platters of roasted meats, game and poultry. There were smaller platters with whole broiled fish on beds of seaweed. There were shellfish cooked in wine, or served raw. Bowls piled high with salad greens, wooden boards laden with breads just out of the ovens, wheels of hard cheese and rounds of soft cheese were brought forth. Baskets of winter fruits were passed about.

The wines flowed generously. The feasting went on all day, and at sunset the guests joined the bride and groom to watch the day end. But unlike Sirvat and Corrado on their wedding day, the Dominus and his Domina of Terah could not yet seek the privacy of their apartments.

Entertainers arrived. Bards sang of Terah’s past and of the beautiful faerie woman who freed them from Usi’s curse. There were tumblers and jugglers, little dogs that danced, and a troupe of felines who walked a tightrope and rode a large patient dog. Clowns moved among the guests, pulling coins from ears and bunches of flowers from their closed fists. The celebration went on deep into the night. And just when everyone was growing tired, a group of dancers clad in scanty silks came to dance seductively before the guests as their musicians played upon drums and reedy instruments that whined sensuously. When the dancers finally departed with the other entertainers, Magnus Hauk stood with Lara by his side. Together they thanked their guests for coming and wished them a safe journey home on the morrow. Then at last they left the Great Hall for their own apartments, where the servants relieved them of their wedding finery, dressed them in loose silk robes and finally left them to themselves.

“Was your wedding day satisfactory, my faerie wife?” Magnus asked her as he drew her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head.

“It was beautiful,” she told him. “And so many gifts, my lord! Surely we needed none of it. Our guests were most generous.” Why did the arms about her feel so wonderful this night? How often had he held her, and yet tonight it seemed different.