“A winter war will be cruel for all involved,” Vartan noted, “but it must be done. We have no other choice.”

“We can help you,” Kaliq said quietly, “if you will allow it.”

“How?” Lara asked.

“We have the ability to control the weather if necessary. Usually we allow nature to have its way for that is best. But it will be more difficult for your army to fight in the snows and bitter cold. Such winter weather will not touch the Tormod and the Piaras this year. We will keep the worst of winter from the territories involved in this dispute. And the Coastal Kings have agreed to close their lands to the rest of Hetar that you may not be attacked from another direction, and can be certain your women and children are safe in your villages,” Kaliq told them.

“And in return?” Vartan asked the prince.

“Nothing,” Kaliq replied. “One day we may need a favor from you, and when that day comes I am certain that you will render it to us in kind, Lord Vartan.” He held out his hand to Vartan, who gripped it in return. Lara placed her own dainty hand upon the locked hands of the two men. “We are agreed then,” the Shadow Prince said, “and now I must return you to the Gathering before you are missed. Lara knows how to contact me. Fight well, my friend, and drive Hetar back within its own borders.” Then he made a fluid motion with his free hand, and seemed to dissolve before their very eyes. Blinking in surprise, they found themselves back in Vartan’s pavilion.

“There you are,” Bera said. “I wondered where you had gotten to! It is almost time for the feasting. I have never known a longer day than this one, with Elin droning on about how important the freshness of ingredients for her sauces is. If they did not taste so good I vow I would strangle the wench, no matter she is Adon’s wife. And he was no better as he explained the intricacies of choosing just the right wood for his fire pit. Where were you?”

“We met with Kaliq of the Shadow Princes, and learned much of what is behind this invasion,” Vartan replied. “I will tell you after I have met with the other leaders, and set a time to speak on it,” he said to his mother. Then turning he left the pavilion.

“How is this possible?” Bera gasped.

“There has been much magic this day and there is more of it to come,” Lara told her softly. “But it has been good magic, Bera. The Outland is not alone in this fight.”

“What would we have done without you, my child?” Bera said. “You are truly a blessing to us, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword, wife of Vartan.”

“It is my destiny,” Lara returned with a small smile, and Bera chuckled.

“Come, help me bring food to the feasting table,” she said.

And together the two women carried the bowls, the platters and the assorted dishes adding them to what was already there from the other clan families. The great array of food and drink was quickly consumed as early evening turned into night, and the stars twinkled above them. And then the four moons of Hetar rose, each in its quarter phase. This night the copper Desert moon shone full and bright. A good omen, Lara thought.

It was the last night of the Gathering. The bonfires that had sprung up at sunset to usher out the old year and welcome in the new blazed high. As it grew later and later, more of the clan families departed for their own tents, but Vartan kept his wife by his side until they and the other clan leaders were alone.

“It is time to speak,” Vartan said.

“Why is your wife here in a war council?” Torin of the Gitta demanded.

“Because without her we would have no hope,” Vartan said. “She will be the savior of the Outlands, and her voice is my voice. You will obey it always, Torin. Now hear me. Today Lara and I met with Kaliq of the Shadow Princes. We have learned that the incursion into the Piaras and Tormod territories is an expedition to test our strength and determination. The Midland Merchants, led by the master of their guild, are behind it along with the Mercenary Guild. Those who invaded you are not Crusader Knights but mercenaries. This scheme was concocted by Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants. The ores and gems stolen from the Piaras and the Tormod have been added to his own treasury. His wealth makes him a powerful man and he heads the Hetarian High Council. The Merchants and the Forest Lords voted to test our determination, while the Shadow Princes and the Coastal Kings voted to maintain our ancient treaty. The tie was broken by Gaius Prospero himself, as he, of course, meant it to be. If only Imre and Petruso had reached us sooner-but they did not. Now we must drive the mercenaries from their lands.”

“With the winter coming,” Floren of the Blathma reminded them dourly.

“We have allies among Hetar,” Vartan said. “The Shadow Princes will hold back the winter from the mountain territories. This will allow us to invade without fear of cold and snow. The Coastal Kings will not allow any from the other provinces into their bailiwick until this matter has been settled. Rendor has made good friends, which will work to our advantage now. We will not have to worry about being attacked from another direction. But most important we shall have the element of surprise, for over half a year has passed since Hetar pushed into Tormod and Piaras. At this point I am sure Hetar believes we will do nothing. But if we do not take back these territories then Gaius Prospero is planning to annex them. Who will they come after next?” He looked about. “The Devyn are the easiest target, and then Blathma will fall, and so on.”

“How can we be certain that the Shadow Princes and the Coastal Kings will aid us?” Roan of the Aghy wanted to know. “Can we trust this Kaliq? Why does he offer to help us, Vartan? What does he want?”

“Nothing for now, but he has said that one day they will come to us for a favor, and it is then we must repay them for their aid,” Vartan said.

“He has also said we must raise a mighty army in order to impress Hetar,” Lara told the chieftains.

“What does it matter the size of the army if we can beat them?” Roan wanted to know. He ran an impatient hand through his bright red hair.

“You must understand that Hetarians are impressed by wealth, strength, status and its like,” Lara explained. “If you beat them with a small army they will say it was a fluke, and they will attempt to come at you again. Piaras and Tormod will forever be open to invasions. More people will be killed. If you beat them with a great army then they will feel they have been fairly bested, and in all likelihood the ancient treaty will be once again honored.” She shrugged. “I can explain it no better. In order to win against Hetar you must impress them first. And to do that you will have to kill many of the mercenaries, and send their bodies back to the City as a warning.”

For a long moment there was a deep silence among the chieftains. Then Rendor of the Felan spoke.

“I understand what you say, but it amazes me that so delicate a female can speak so dispassionately about taking life, for females are life-givers.” He looked at Vartan. “Your wife is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and yet she has, it seems, the heart of a warrior.”

“It is not my heart that should concern you, Rendor of the Felan, but rather your own. How many men will you pledge to this battle?” Lara asked him bluntly.

He laughed. “Every whole man among my clan from fourteen to sixty will fight for the Outlands,” he promised. “We are shepherds at heart, but we know well how to defend our flocks be they sheep or people, Lara of the Fiacre, wife to Vartan, daughter of Swiftsword,” Rendor answered her.

“We would expect no less,” Vartan said. “What of the rest of you?”

“Every horseman in my clan will fight,” Roan of the Aghy said.

“We are few in number,” Accius of the Devyn said, “but we will contribute in our own way. Some of our bards will go into the villages of the Piaras and the Tormod, ostensibly to entertain the invaders, but they will pass the word to the people that their leaders have reached their brethren and that a mighty army comes. We will ready them to rise up against their captors. And we will fight. Those who cannot fight will sing you into battle, and if necessary into the realm of the Celestial Actuary.”

“Thank you, my old friend,” Vartan said. “The nobility of the Devyn is well known among the Outlands.”

“Our fields are put to bed for the winter now,” Torin of the Gitta spoke up. “If the Shadow Princes say our villages will be safe, then only women, children and the elderly will be left behind to care for our lands. All who can fight among us will come.” He turned to look to his fellow agrarian, Floren of the Blathma.

The plump farmer sighed. “I can do no less than Torin,” he said reluctantly. “You are certain our villages will be safe from harm?” he asked of Lara.

“Kaliq of the Shadow Princes has said it, and I have never known him to lie,” Lara replied. “They are honorable men, and the oldest among the inhabitants of this world we all share,” she explained.

“Then it is settled,” Vartan said. “Take your people home, my brothers, and then return here to the Gathering place in ten days’ time. By that time we will have a plan readied to punish these Hetarians who have invaded our lands.”

“I know I speak for Petruso as well as myself when I thank you,” Imre of the Tormod said. “For the sake of our peoples I only wish we had gotten to you sooner.”

“Do not thank us until you are back safe in your own house with your wife by your side, Imre. Many will die in this undertaking, but there will be more grief in Hetar than in the Outlands when this is finished,” Vartan said fiercely.

Early the next morning, before the sun was even up, the clan families dispersed from the Gathering place. Imre, Petruso and their men went with Vartan’s clan for they dared not return to their own homes yet. On the day following their arrival in Camdene, Vartan dispatched riders to each of his villages issuing a call to arms. Every Fiacre clansman between the ages of fourteen and sixty was expected to answer that call if he was physically able. The villages and the herds would be looked after by the elderly, the women and the children. Any woman able to fight was invited to come as well, although it was not mandated that women answer the chieftain’s call. Still, several came from each village, and were put into Sholeh’s care. Lara, it was agreed, would fight by her husband’s side.