Lara gave him a smile and moved quickly by him, finally reaching her apartments. They were empty, for only Cadi served Lara now. The faerie woman looked about her. Everything was in order, neat and clean, but the sensation of love, of life, was no longer there. She shook her head. Aye. ’Twas past time she left Terah. The memories here had long ago faded, leaving in their place a melancholy. Why hadn’t she noticed it until now?

Then she sensed an approach and turned quickly, even as the door to her apartments opened, and her grandson Prince Amren entered. “Come in, my lord,” she invited him pleasantly. “Sit down. We must speak on matters that concern you.” Going to a painted sideboard Lara poured a goblet of dark red wine for her grandson and another for herself. Handing it to him, she sat down opposite Amren.

“What matters?” he asked her, taking the goblet with a nod of thanks.

“The Dominus Cadarn plans to dismiss you, and replace you with his brother, Prince Cadoc,” Lara said bluntly.

“How can you know this?” Amren demanded, surprised.

Lara raised a delicate dark eyebrow. “Really, my lord, how can you even ask such a question of me?” she replied. “Do you think because you have been raised to fear me and ignore what I am that my powers are lessened to any degree? When something concerns me, I make it my business to know what I must.”

“You must be mistaken, Grandmother,” he said, but he did not sound very sure. “I have served Terah well since my youth.”

“Aye, Amren, you have. Both your father and your grandfather would be most proud of your devotion to your duty to Terah.” He was still a handsome man, Lara thought. How old was he now? Seventy? Aye, seventy.

Her words pleased him well, she could see, but then he asked her, “And are you proud of me, Grandmother?”

Lara laughed. “I suppose I am in my own way, Amren,” she told him.

“What do you want then of me?” he asked her candidly.

Lara laughed again. “How Hetarian you have become,” she said, “but of course you are right. A favor for a favor, eh, Amren?”

And now he chuckled. “’Tis the Hetarian way,” he agreed, “and the truth is I have spent most of my life in Hetar. My wife is Hetarian, and our children.”

“Will you remain in Hetar when the Dominus dismisses you?” she wanted to know. “You have a home in The City, and one in the province of the Outlands. I doubt your wife would enjoy living in Terah.”

“I had not considered being cashiered from my position,” Amren said slowly. “You know how important one’s position is in Hetar. An ex-ambassador has not the status of an ambassador, but Clarinda would indeed be unhappy here in Terah. And we should not have the enjoyment of our grandchildren.”

“The Dominus does not want to hear anything I have to say,” Lara told her grandson, “but I shall put the thought into his head to create a new position for you. You shall be Terah’s Trade Commissioner. There will certainly be opportunity for you to extract some goodly bribes in such a position, Amren.”

His face grew red, and she saw him preparing to vehemently protest her words.

Lara smiled a wicked smile. “Do not bother to deny it, grandson,” she told him. “Have I not said that I learn what I choose to learn? Know what I wish to know? I am more than well versed in Hetar’s foibles and vices for I was born there, and lived my early years in The City. Did you know that your great-grandfather Swiftsword gained the regalia he needed to compete in the tournament that earned him his place in the Crusader Knights by selling me into slavery?

“Gaius Prospero, who later ruled as Hetar’s emperor, bought me. He planned a private auction with the owners of the Pleasure Houses for he expected to earn a great profit from me. But alas, I was considered too beautiful, and the Guilds feared I would cause more trouble than I was worth. So instead I was sent with a caravan of Taubyl Traders to be sold outside The City. It was from there I began to follow my destiny, and learned who and what I am, Amren. Oh yes, I know Hetar well. Very well.”

“I did not know any of this,” Amren said slowly. He was surprised by her revelations. “You did tell me of Swiftsword before I first went to Hetar. And his memory is still honored. He died in some battle, didn’t he?”

“Aye, it was a great battle,” Lara said. “I fought in it myself.”

Amren’s mouth fell open in shock. “But you are a woman,” he gasped.

Lara smiled a brief smile. Andraste! To my hand! She called to her sword in the silent language. The sword leapt from its place over her tall stone hearth, and into her grasp. It was a beautiful weapon. Its broad blade a smooth polished steel. The gold hilt of the broadsword had a woman’s head at its tip. The head possessed ruby eyes.

“I am Andraste, and I sing of victory,” the sword said. “Greetings, grandson of the Great Magnus Hauk.”

“It speaks!” Amren said. “What trickery is this?”

“Surely you knew my sword spoke, grandson,” Lara said, amused.

“It was but a child’s tale,” he said slowly.

“Most children’s tales such as this one come from fact, my lord,” Lara told him. “Certainly you believe I am magic. Can you deny the evidence of your own eyes?”

Amren shook his head. “Nay, I cannot. Is it all truth, Grandmother?”

“I do not know all you have heard, but probably it is,” Lara said. “But let me tell you about the Battle of The City before I reveal to you what I want. The Twilight Lord Kol, who ruled the Dark Lands in those days, brought together a great army made up mostly of Wolfyn, but other dark entities, as well. They sought to conquer Hetar and had already ravaged the Midlands. Now they stood before The City. Their battering rams could not even dent the great gates nor could their fire machines pierce the protection that the Shadow Princes had put about The City. Hetar’s soldiers stood upon The City’s walls and laughed the Wolfyn to scorn. And then, when we were ready, we opened the gates ourselves. As our army had marched forth to face the enemy’s, a platform moved to fill the gate. It was from there that the Emperor Gaius Prospero and Hetar’s dignitaries watched the ensuing battle. I personally killed the Wolfyn high commander of Kol’s armies, Hrolleif. And when the other Wolfyn saw it they howled their grief, but then the battle resumed. The ground before The City was awash with blood. And when our mutual enemies had all been slain the skies opened up and a heavy rain poured down, cleansing the earth. When it had ceased, all evidence of the battle was gone, for both blood and bodies had disappeared. As many, if not more, Terahns were killed that day, and so Hetar was considered to owe us a great debt. Remember that, Amren. Terah helped to save Hetar once long ago. I will wager such a thing is not taught to the youth of Hetar, but then neither is that same history taught in Terah any longer.

“And once again over a hundred years ago, soon after your grandfather, Magnus Hauk, was killed in an accident, the magic world saved Hetar once more from its own folly when one of Kol’s daughters attempted to subvert a mortal man to her own purposes, and bring both Hetar and Terah into the Darkness. Your father was but a child then, and I ruled as a shadow queen until he was old enough to take the reins of power himself. Both kingdoms have been involved with one another for decades.

“But now what is it I want from you, my lord? In return for what I have told you this day, I would have you be my eyes and ears to the court of the Lord High Ruler. The new position I will see you gain in order to keep your status in Hetar will still allow you entrée to that court. I would know all the gossip you hear even if you believe it to be inconsequential. I will make that decision, Amren.”

“Will not the fact that the Lord High Ruler of Hetar is my blood kin allow me entry to the court no matter my position,” Amren asked. Then he answered his own question. “Of course not. How foolish of me to think it. You ask little for what you give, Grandmother. Why is that?”

Lara laughed once more. “I am magic, Amren.”

“I do not understand magic,” he said candidly.

“Nay, I suppose you do not,” she sighed. “Can you not believe the evidence of your own eyes, grandson?” Lara asked him. “My sword speaks for there is a powerful battle spirit within it. Verica, to me,” she called aloud, and her staff flew to her outstretched hand. She turned it so her grandson might see the ancient bearded face carved within it. “Verica, please greet my grandson, Prince Amren of Terah.”

“I know who he is,” Verica said. “He is the only one among Dominus Taj’s children to speak at any length with you, and then only because he needs your knowledge.” Verica’s sharp eyes glared at Amren. “Is that not so, Terahn prince?”

Amren nodded, a little less startled now than when Andraste had spoken in her deep, forbidding voice. Then he looked to Lara. “The sword speaks, the staff speaks, but this magic was in them. It is not yours.”

“You must see to believe then.” Lara chuckled. “Aral change!” And suddenly a small bright bird was flying about the chamber. “Do you believe now?”

Amren ignored the bird. “Where are you?” he demanded of her. He swatted lightly at the quick avian who dived at his head.

“Aral change!” He heard her voice again, and suddenly a large golden cat sat before him. Amren jumped back, genuinely terrified, his eyes wide as the cat raised a massive paw and placed it on his shoulder. He could not move and considered himself already dead. He struggled to speak but could push no words forth from his tight throat. Then in his fear he saw that the cat had green eyes. Faerie green eyes! He gasped with a mixture of both surprise and shock.

“Lara change,” he heard his grandmother’s voice again, and she was suddenly before him, her hand still resting upon his shoulder. “Now do you believe, Amren?”