Anoush cudgeled her memory, but she could not recall ever having seen the young man who had addressed her. If he was one of Sholeh’s men she probably wouldn’t see him again until The Gathering. But if she did she would ask him who he was. Anoush smiled to herself. He really had been very handsome to behold. She was so happy to be back among her father’s people. It was where she belonged.

Lara noticed a sparkle in her eldest daughter’s eye, and wondered what had put it there. Anoush was usually quiet, and more circumspect than her siblings.

“She met a lad while out gathering her plants yesterday,” Noss said. “She didn’t recognize him as one of our village. Gadara said she thought it might be one of the herders from Rivalen who came to speak with Liam.”

“He was bold to speak with Anoush if he did not know her,” Lara said.

“Ask your daughter about the incident,” Noss replied. “I am only telling you what Gadara told me. She is very protective of Anoush. Once she had a mate and a daughter, but they died one Icy Season from some malady of the chest and throat. Anoush would be about her daughter’s age, and Gadara has grown quite fond of her.”

“I will speak with my daughter,” Lara said, and went off to find her. Anoush was in her apothecary carefully spreading the leaves and flowers of the chamomile plants she had harvested the preceding day onto a flat surface so they would dry. She greeted her mother with a warm smile.

“Do not dry the flowers and leaves on the same slate,” Lara said. “They have different properties, and you don’t want them mixing.”

Anoush nodded, and carefully spread the leaves onto another cool slate.

“Noss says a young man spoke to you yesterday in the meadow,” Lara remarked.

“Aye,” Anoush answered her mother. “He addressed me by name. He was very handsome, Mother. He said he would see me at The Gathering.”

“You did not know him?” Lara spoke casually.

Anoush shook her head. “But he seemed to know me. He addressed me by name, and asked if I did not recognize him. I didn’t. But he was very fair to look upon, Mother. Why do you ask? Do you think he might be a suitor for my hand?”

“I have never before heard you speak of marriage for yourself,” Lara said.

“There was no one in Terah for me, Mother, so why would I bother to speak of it?” Anoush responded in a practical tone.

“He was a herder? You are certain?” Lara wanted to know.

“Aye, he wore herder’s clothing. Why are you so interested in this young man, Mother? Is it so hard to think a young man might be interested in me?”

“Nay, darling girl,” Lara told her child. “But you are now a woman of property. You have your own house, some land and a fine herd of cattle. And you are the daughter of a great hero of the Fiacre, of all the clan families. You are extremely eligible. But as your mother I would wish to know the name of those courting you, Anoush.”

Anoush chuckled. Then she stopped what she was doing and hugged Lara. “Oh, Mother, I do love you. And I love that you would worry about a young man from another village who would pay a bit of attention to me. He is gone now, whoever he was, and unless I see him at The Gathering it is unlikely I will ever see him again. There is no harm done to me, or threat implied by this lad. It is nothing more than it was.”

“You may not be at the castle with me any longer, Anoush, but I still worry about you,” Lara told her daughter. “Especially given Zagiri’s impetuous behavior.”

“She is very happy,” Anoush told Lara. “She sends me missives via faerie post several times a month. Does she not communicate with you?”

“Nay,” Lara said tersely.

“You must forgive her, Mother,” Anoush said quietly.

“Your sister disobeyed me, and by doing so has put herself in a terrible position although she is too foolish to realize it,” Lara said. “Jonah of Hetar thinks Terah will come to his aid if he needs us because he is wed to the sister of the Dominus. But that is not necessarily so, Anoush. I will do what is best for Terah first. Hetar is neither my province nor my responsibility, Anoush. Zagiri is young and romantic. She has no idea of what is involved in keeping these worlds of ours safe from the darkness. I will wager I know what she writes about. The luxuries of Hetar that are now all hers. Of the servants who serve her and grant her every wish and whim. Of her husband with whom she enjoys pleasures and who would appear to adore her.”

“Well, yes,” Anoush said slowly.

“Does she speak of the poverty afflicting Hetar? Or the corruption of its magnates and Merchants Guild? Does she ever venture outside of the Golden District in which she lives to see the filth in the streets? Has she seen the Mercenaries who are idle, and wander the streets ill, hungry or drunk on Razi? Has she visited the Garden District to meet with her grandfather’s wife, and her uncles now living in the genteel poverty of the Crusader Knights’ faded glory? You must answer nay to all of these things for even if she were curious, and she is not, Jonah would not allow her to see the truth of what Hetar has become, Anoush. The beautiful daughter that I bore Magnus Hauk has become the prized trophy for a corrupt man,” Lara concluded bitterly. “You want me to forgive her, but how can I? She has veered from the path of light.”

“But she has not gone into the dark, Mother,” Anoush said earnestly. “And she will not. What she has done has a purpose. I know it! I don’t know what that purpose is, Mother, but there is one.”

“I hope you are right,” Lara said bleakly. Zagiri’s defection to Hetar had hurt her more than anything any of her children had ever done. She was puzzled by it, and she didn’t like feeling helpless. Feeling helpless was a mortal trait.

The summer finally came to an end. The time for The Gathering, a yearly event held by the clan families, drew near. When it was over Lara and Taj would return to the castle on the Dominus’s Fjord. They traveled with the Fiacre clan families to The Gathering Place where tents were set up, campfires started and the eight clans of the New Outlands came together. Each had brought something for the several days of feasting and trading. The Fiacre brought beef. The Felan brought lamb. The Blathma and the Gitta were growers of produce, which they brought to add to the feast. The Aghy were ready to trade and sell horses. The Piaras and the Tormod had gold, silver and jewelry for sale. The Devyn were the Memory Keepers and Bards of the clan families. Their contribution to The Gathering each year was to sing the history of the clans. Each evening they would entertain around a large central fire. The Gathering would conclude with a meeting of the New Outlands Council headed by Rendor, Lord of the Felan.

Lara loved this time of the year for it allowed her to meet with old friends. Her years among the clan families had been happy ones. Now she noticed that many of those whom she knew were growing older while she appeared to have changed not at all. While Lara was revered by all of the clan families, she found the younger members of these families looked upon her either with suspicion or indifference. She supposed it was natural that to them Vartan the Heroic was a legend. Nothing more. The fact that he had been married to a faerie woman was but part of the legend for them. When they looked at Lara they saw a beautiful, young and desirable woman, not the widow of a legendary hero.

But Anoush was another matter. There was nothing magical about her. She was a healer with the Sight, which they both respected and admired. Once this had not been so, but as they had come to know Anoush it was accepted that she was just a lovely maiden with rare talents. And the fact that she had no husband and was propertied made her a magnet for men seeking a wife. She was never without her admirers this particular Gathering. But Anoush’s soft blue eyes searched the crowds about her seeking one man.

And then late one afternoon he appeared before her. “Hello, Anoush,” he said with a smile. “Have you remembered who I am?” He towered over her, and Anoush felt suddenly small and fragile.

“Nay,” she said. “I do not remember you. Who are you, sir?”

“You do not remember a Gathering long ago when we played together by the water?” he said, low. “I wanted to kiss you then, Anoush, but your brother prevented it.”

And a picture suddenly bloomed in her memory of a sulky boy who put his hand beneath her gown, and stroked her leg with knowledgeable fingers. She had been but a little child then, and it had been very wicked of him. Anoush blushed, remembering. “You are Cam,” she said. “You are my cousin Cam.”

“I am,” he admitted. “We have both grown up some since those carefree days, Anoush,” he said with a charming smile. Then he kissed her cheek.

“You were our grandmother Bera’s favorite,” Anoush recalled.

“Only because my parents were dead, and she felt sorry for me,” he said. “It is fortunate when Lord Liam realized how spoiled I was becoming he sent me to our kinswoman Sholeh,” Cam said. “I was not spoiled in the village of Rivalen.” Cam chuckled. “I was taught how to become the man I am today. Now, my pretty cousin, take me to your mother. I should greet her, and obtain her permission to court you.”

Remembering now the wicked and devious boy Cam had been, Anoush was not certain her mother would give her permission, but certainly Cam had changed. Lara must be made to see that. “Come along, then,” she said, offering Cam her small hand, which he took in his large one. Then together they sought out Lara. They found her laughing with Roan of the Aghy, Rendor of the Felan and Rendor’s wife, Rahil, who raised an eyebrow at the sight of Anoush and Cam.

“Mother, this is the young man I told you about, and I have remembered who he is,” Anoush said excitedly.