“Would he be proud of Ciarda?” Kolgrim asked Lara.
“He would be admiring of her, and amused by her, but he would never permit her to do what she is doing. He would give her to his personal guard for pleasures first,” Lara said bluntly. “Then he would have killed her himself, for although she carries his blood she is but a female. It is the direct male line that rules in the Dark Lands.”
“What am I to do with Kolbein, Mother? I cannot kill him,” Kolgrim said.
“Unfortunately you cannot, according to your own Book of Rule,” Lara agreed. “Let him be, for if women and wine are his pleasures, as long as he has as much of them as he wants you can keep him content.” She turned away from Kolgrim briefly, and, holding her hands over the sleeping Anoush, she said in the silent language, Return my child from whence you came. Never come this way again. And immediately Anoush disappeared.
“I heard you!” Kolgrim cried excitedly.
She couldn’t help but smile. “Then the magic is beginning to awaken fully in you, Kolgrim. Tell the Darkling when she returns that I will destroy her should she attempt to harm any of my children again. And warn her that she will not win.”
“Would you include my brother and me in that august grouping?” he asked her, mockingly cocking a thick bushy black eyebrow, for though his hair was as golden as hers he had the heavy black eyebrows that his father had possessed.
Lara laughed. She could not help it. Eventually Kolgrim would personify all the darkness in the worlds, but for now he was merely a wicked boy. She considered if he might be saved as she would save Marzina, but then she shrugged in answer to his question. “I must go,” she told him.
“If you had to choose, Mother, which one of us would you pick?” he asked her provocatively, and then watched as she disappeared before his eyes, leaving the unanswered question hanging heavily in the air.
16
LARA HAD TRANSPORTED THE slumbering Anoush not back to her own house in the New Outlands, but rather to Prince Kaliq’s desert palace. No one unwelcome by the Shadow Princes could penetrate into Shunnar. Annoush would be safe. Having seen to her eldest daughter’s comfort, she went to find her youngest daughter. Looking out over the open marble porch colonnade down into the horse meadow, Lara saw her with Og. Marzina was sitting upon the giant’s shoulder as he walked through the fields allowing the young girl to pick herself a horse. Satisfied, Lara turned away to find Kaliq behind her.
“Remember the first time you looked down into that meadow?” he asked her.
She smiled up at him. “Aye, I do. Your stallion was cutting mares from the herd with which to mate.” Then she grew serious again. “I must go to Hetar, and see what I can do to embolden the Lord High Ruler to finally act, and to get our Hierarch to help him. Lady Gillian will have spoken with the women by now.”
“Do you want me to come?” he asked her.
“Could I stop you?” She chuckled. “But you must let me be the one to control Cam. He is not yet quite certain that my powers are greater than the Darkling’s. She has hinted that without you I would have no powers so you cannot appear by my side, Kaliq.”
“Ciarda is young, and very full of herself,” the prince said. “Because until now she has not been outside of the Dark Lands, her frame of reference is very small. She has not been educated, and consequently knows nothing of what has gone on before her, but she is dangerous because she is ambitious. What did you learn in the Dark Lands when you went to fetch Anoush?”
“I learned what I already knew. That Kolgrim is the more intelligent twin. That Kolbein spends his days and nights in the House of Women taking pleasures. The Wolfyn certainly raised him as one of their own. He seeks out only what delights him. I expect he will die sooner than later of his excesses. No one will stop him, or protect him from himself, Kaliq, and he is too stupid to see the error of what he does. Unless the Darkling interferes it is Kolgrim who will take his father’s throne one day. We must keep her now from being impregnated by Kolbein.”
“Among the other things we must keep her from doing,” Kaliq teased Lara, and she laughed.
Then she asked him, “Do you know who Ciarda’s mother was? Was she magic?”
“Kol’s women were ordinary but for you,” he replied. “His vanity was such that he wanted only pleasures, their admiration and their complete devotion from them. The only magic the Darkling has comes from her father, and giving her Hierarch the ability to create his miracles is pretty much the extent of her powers, although she might have a trick or two up her sleeve that we do not yet know about. I cannot help but admire her confidence in her abilities, but then as I have previously said she is young, and ignorant of the power of serious magic. Her ability to keep us from getting too close to her, however, still puzzles me, my love.”
“Perhaps you should consult with the oldest of the Shadow Princes,” Lara suggested.
“You think Cronan may have the answer to that conundrum?” Kaliq was intrigued by Lara’s suggestion.
“No one else seems to,” Lara gently pointed out. “Does he yet make his home in Belmair, my lord?”
Kaliq nodded. “I will go and visit with him,” the Shadow Prince said.
“Then I will go to Hetar while you are gone,” Lara said.
They both disappeared from Shunnar in the same minute as they spoke the words.
Kaliq tossed back his cloak to find himself in the tower where Cronan, the most ancient of the Shadow Princes, made his home. It was evening, and Cronan was dozing in a chair by his hearth. Outside, a persistent rain poured down. Kaliq looked at the old one, wondering if he should look like that one day, and if he would survive as long as Cronan. Walking across the small chamber, Kaliq gently shook Cronan awake.
The bright blue eyes opened, and lit with surprise. “Kaliq!” Cronan sat up. “What brings you to visit me, and so late at night, too?”
“It is not late night in Shunnar,” Kaliq reminded Cronan, “but I apologize for not considering the time here. I very much need the benefit of your wisdom.” And then he went on to report to the ancient Shadow Prince all the news from Hetar. He concluded by telling Cronan of Ciarda. “She confounds us, for though her personal powers are small she is still able to keep us from getting close to her. She seems to sense when we are near, and is able to block her thoughts from us. We cannot fathom how she can do this.”
Cronan did not hesitate. “She is being helped by someone,” he said logically.
“But who? Her brothers’ powers are only beginning to exhibit themselves, and even using the power of three she could not keep herself from us all the time as she is doing. Who has powers strong enough to aid the Darkling?”
“Her father, of course,” Cronan said.
“But we imprisoned Kol, and made it impossible for him to communicate with anyone,” Kaliq said. “He is blinded, chained and his vocal cords frozen. He lies in the deepest, darkest part of Kolbyr, his castle, and even the old dwarf who serves as his chancellor does not know where he is, or that he even still exists. How can he have helped his daughter to shield herself from us?”
“Kaliq, Kaliq,” the ancient Shadow Prince said. “You have forgotten the one variable that cannot be overcome by even the strongest magic. Love.”
“Love? Kol doesn’t know the meaning of the word,” Kaliq said angrily.
“But Ciarda does love her father with her entire being,” Cronan reminded his companion. “And I am quite certain that that love has managed to allow Kol to aid her in this small way. You have frozen his vocal cords, but not his mind-speak, Kaliq. This is how he has communicated with her, has instructed her what to do, has given her the small shreds of what is left of his power. Even those vestiges are more than she has ever had on her own. He has probably bargained with her to free him when she triumphs.”
“I am a fool!” the younger Shadow Prince cried. “I believed I had buried him so deep that no one would ever hear any sound he could make. How could this have happened? And why did he reach out to one of his daughters, and not one of his sons?” He paused. “But of course! His sons might not have helped him. They have virtually no memory of him, and they are too busy squabbling with each other for supremacy of the Dark Lands. But Ciarda was a little girl when we imprisoned Kol. She had strong memories of him. And Kol never had difficulty in cajoling women to his will.”
“Exactly!” Cronan said. “He probably remembered Ciarda as being lively and intelligent, recalled how she loved him and decided to use her if he could reach out to her in our silent language.”
“Which he obviously could,” Kaliq replied, irritated at himself for being taken unawares. He had never considered that there was actually someone who loved the Twilight Lord. Kol used those around him, but his subjects were nothing more than conveniences. Even the devoted and loyal Alfrigg.
“Kol will have brought himself near death with the effort it has taken him to reach out to his daughter, and especially to shield her from our brothers,” Cronan said.
“Is he fool enough to kill himself with his effort?” Kaliq wondered aloud.
“I do not think so,” Cronan decided. “I suspect he still hopes against hope to regain his full powers. It would be in his nature to believe it.”
“Then perhaps we could incite one of his children to dispatch him,” Kaliq said. “It will not be Ciarda, for despite her ambition she loves her father. And Kolgrim is too wily to break the law of the land though he wants his father’s throne. But the other twin, Kolbein, is a brute, and foolish enough to be tempted to patricide.”
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