Bertrice Small - Lara

“Yes,” she agreed. “I would value your advice for I think you wise, my lord, and I am just beginning to learn this business of living,” Lara told him.

And together they returned to Camdene.

“IF YOU HAVE no destination in mind,” Bera said, “then why leave us now? Since the day your father proposed selling you to finance his ambitions you have always known when to go, and where. But now you admit you do not know. The Outlands, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword, can be a dangerous place for those unfamiliar with it. Good fortune has put you in our keeping. Remain with us until you know where it is you must go, and why.”

“It is so tempting,” Lara conceded slowly with a sigh. She had to admit she felt very comfortable here in Vartan’s hall, and she liked the people of the Fiacre who were industrious and filled with humor and the joy of living. Where was she going, and why? The urge to travel, to seek, had suddenly left her. She fingered her crystal, but Ethne was silent. It is my decision to make, Lara reflected. Mine alone.

“The summer is at an end. Autumn will soon come, and then winter. Winter is a bad time not to have a safe place, especially here on the plains,” Bera continued. “Say you will stay, and then come the spring you will see how you feel. Noss would like to remain, wouldn’t you, my child?”

Noss nodded with a small smile. In the few days Lara had been away with Vartan, something had changed Noss. “I love it here,” Noss said. “I have never felt more at home anywhere in my life, Lara.”

“Then I suppose it is settled,” Lara answered her young companion with a smile. “We will remain until I am called to take the road to my destiny once again.”

Bera chuckled. “This is good,” she said. “I have always wanted daughters.”

The autumn was a busy time for the Fiacre. The last of the grain was harvested, gleaned and stored in stone granaries. Food animals were slaughtered, butchered and hung in a stone building where once weekly a butcher would carve portions for each family in Camdene. The men hunted deer for venison, and geese and ducks, which were hung in each house’s larder. The last of the vegetables were taken from the gardens, and stored in a cold cellar. Repairs were made to homes, barns and other buildings. The plains turned shades of gold and brown. The leaves on the trees turned red, purple, orange and gold.

They had been with the Fiacre all summer. The days were growing shorter with each passing sunrise. Twilight seemed to come sooner, and then the cool nights. Vartan’s hall was a place of warmth and friendliness, and Lara continued to see how respected and genuinely loved the leader of the Fiacre was. She was beginning to look at him with new eyes. He was not a sophisticated man, but neither was he a simple one. Unlike the Forest Lords, he accepted his responsibilities as an honorable duty and not a privilege. She quickly learned he enjoyed teasing those of whom he was particularly fond. And he was working very hard at drawing her into the society of the Fiacre, especially his own family. Each evening they would play a game called Herder, using a wooden board and beautifully carved figures, two herders and a group of cattle. The object of the game was to gather as many cattle as one could. When all the cattle on the board were herded into a player’s designated corner, the herder with the most beasts was declared the winner.

At first Lara did not understand the strategy of the game and Vartan, while explaining how to play, also taunted her unmercifully. But she swiftly realized his purpose was to discommode her. Comprehending his design, she began to tease him back, even as she became quite skilled at the game itself. One evening Vartan realized his pupil had become a very good player indeed. She said, “I shall trounce you quite severely tonight, my cocky lord.” And she captured the bull in his herd.

“You cheated!” he exclaimed, surprised.

“I don’t have to cheat with you,” Lara mocked him. “Now that I have deciphered your game plan you are easy to beat. You always play the same way, Vartan. You have no skill at intrigue, I fear.” And she laughed as she took one of his cows. “There are half a dozen ways to play this game, but you practice only one.”

“But one way is enough if you can win,” he said as he took the last cow on the board. And then he grinned at her.

“You each have the same number of beasts,” Bera declared as she counted, “but I think Lara must be proclaimed the winner, for she possesses the bulls from both herds. What will you have for your forfeit, my clever girl?”

“I had not thought of it,” Lara said slowly.

“I should have had a kiss,” Vartan chuckled.

“Then so shall I!” Lara decided boldly and, standing, she leaned across the game board to give him a brief kiss. But Vartan quickly captured the back of her head with his hand, holding the girl firmly in his embrace until Lara was able to pull free, sputtering with outrage.

“It will soon be time for The Gathering,” Bera announced, attempting to defuse the situation.

“What is that?” Lara responded, still glaring at her antagonist. She wanted to strike out at him for publicly discommoding her in such a fashion, but she knew that Bera was trying to keep the peace.

“There is a holy place out on the plain, two days’ journey from Camdene. Each year after the harvest, as many as can come from each of the clan families gather together to celebrate the year’s end, and welcome in the new year. Each clan is always represented by someone. It is the only time we come together as a single entity,” Bera explained. “The rest of the year we keep to our own boundaries, and to our own families. There is a meeting held between clan leaders then as well, and a fair where we barter goods and livestock.

“The Blathma bring apples and pears. The Felan, sheep. The Aghy, horses, and of course we bring cattle to trade or sell. The Gitta grow vegetables we do not, but that we enjoy. And of course the Piaras and the Tormod come with their beautiful jewelry. The Devyn will be there to entertain us all, and some bargain for homes for the winter. It’s a lovely time, and then we all return home to await the winter months,” Bera concluded.

“And matches are arranged at that time,” Noss interjected excitedly.

“You are too young to be married,” Lara said.

“I am not!” Noss cried. “I am almost fourteen, and Liam wants me for his wife.”

Lara was silent for a long moment, and then sighing she said, “This is what you really want? You realize if you wed him you will have his mother in the house.”

“Aye, it is!” Noss replied. “I am grateful to you that your sacrifice saved me from the Forest Lords. And I was content to leave Shunnar with you, and travel into the Outlands. But my destiny is here, and with Liam. I will be fourteen in spring, and I want to marry then. I am a simple girl. There is no greatness in me as there is in you, Lara.”

“Then you shall marry, Noss,” Lara replied to her friend. “It is a very good match for a poor mercenary’s daughter from the City.”

“I love him!” Noss declared passionately.

Lara shrugged. She still believed there was no such thing as love but let Noss have her sweet dreams. “I am glad,” she said with a smile. “He will get a good wife in you, Noss.”

Bera reached out to take Lara’s hand in hers. Their eyes met, and the older woman nodded. “You are doing the right thing,” she said softly.

“I hope so,” Lara replied. “She seems so young to me.”

“That is because your life since leaving the City has been the more difficult one. You had little choice but to leave your girlhood behind. The Forest Lords’ refusal to have Noss saved her. The Shadow Princes freed her, and protected her. Your kindness and friendship have been her salvation. Now she is where she belongs at last. My nephew is besotted with her, and will be a good husband.”

“It seems so simple for her,” Lara said, almost sadly.

“There is love for you if you would but have it,” Bera said pointedly.

Lara smiled a small rueful smile. “What of my destiny?” she replied.

“None of us can escape our destiny,” Bera said wisely. “It will find you when the time is right, Lara. Would you not be happy until then?” She arose from her place. “I am going to bed now. My bones long for the comfort of my featherbed. Good night.”

“I’ll come with you,” Noss spoke up. She stood and, bending, kissed Lara’s cheek. “I know you love me, and want me safe,” the girl said. “I am safe with Liam. Thank you for your permission to wed him. You are the sister I never had, and I am glad for it.”

“Go along,” Lara said almost impatiently. “And yes, we are now sisters, aren’t we? I am glad for it, too.” Thinking herself alone now, Lara stared into the flames. She had lost Og, who preferred to remain in the Desert tending to the horses belonging to the Shadow Princes. She would soon lose Noss, who was in love and wanted to be a wife. Was she meant to continue her journey alone? It was a frightening thought. But for now, at least, she would remain at Camdene. When the spring came the urge to move on would certainly rise in her again, but now the days grew shorter. The nights longer. The air colder. It was only natural that she wanted to bide awhile with the Fiacre. She smiled to herself. She was like a beast seeking a warm nest, and going to ground for the winter.

“I have never before seen that particular smile,” Vartan said as he came to sit by her side. “What are you thinking?” He put an arm about her waist, drawing her closer.

“I was thinking how like a rabbit or a fox I am, looking for a winter refuge,” she told him, and he laughed.

“So you consider my hall a winter refuge, do you?” he teased her.

“Well, it is,” Lara replied. “I can think of none better.”