He knelt before her, smiling. "Do you not age at all, Lara? You are more beautiful than ever if such a thing is possible," he said. His big hands slipped beneath the soft cotton gown she wore, sliding slowly up her legs to her thighs. "Your skin is like the finest silk, Domina." Then, bending his fiery head, he began to follow the path his hands had taken, kissing and licking his way to the junction of her closed thighs. He could smell her female scent, and it was intoxicating to him. He nuzzled at her, and her legs slowly opened to him. Pushing his head between her legs, he peeled her nether lips open with his thumbs, staring at her sex with admiration and awe, licking at her juices, which were already beginning to flow for him.

"May I suck you, Domina?" he asked her softly, and when she nodded his mouth closed over her love bud, and drew upon it.

Lara closed her eyes, the better to enjoy the tugging sensation upon that most sensitive part of her anatomy. She had not expected such delicacy and elegance from the Horse Lord. His teeth nibbled gently upon her, then he sucked several hard tugs on her flesh, and she murmured with her appreciation. He brought her to a perfect wave of pleasures that flowed over her, leaving her relaxed and sated. "That was very nice, Roan," she complimented him. "May I return the favor?"

"Nay, it is not necessary," he told her. "I can give a woman a taste of pleasures to come without needing to rut like a boy, Lara. I enjoyed the interlude. Next time, however, we will take pleasures of each other."

"We will indeed," Lara told him. "You surprise me. I had not expected such finesse from you, my lord."

Roan chuckled as he rose to his feet, drawing her gown back down again. "I have had many years of practice, Lara. I know how to give a woman pleasures, and I know you are skilled in giving a man pleasures. I will look forward to our coming together tonight."

"I will recall Dasras on the morrow," Lara said to him. "You mean to remain the night, then? If you wish to return home now I can easily send you, my lord."

Roan laughed. "You will scream for me, Domina," he told her softly. Then he left her in the garden where he had found her.

Now it was Lara who laughed. Roan had always been supremely confident where passion and pleasures were concerned. It would be fun to have a lover for a brief time. She was faerie, and her desires ran hot. Soon enough they would return to the castle, and she must take up her duties as the Domina, as the Shadow Queen behind the throne of the young Dominus. But it was summer now, and the New Outlands were rich with growth as the cattle of the Fiacre and the horses of the Aghy fattened themselves in rich green meadows. The moment was ripe with possibilities, and the air lush with the anticipation of a new lover. She hoped he would not disappoint her but the little demonstration he had just offered her was certainly encouraging.

Noss rejoined her. "Roan was whistling when he returned to the hall," she said.

"I think I shall take him as a lover while I am here," Lara said casually.

"You must tell me then if he is as good as he claims he is," Noss replied with a rich chuckle. "He has desired you for years, but you know that. Why now?"

"It pleases me now," Lara responded.

"Something is coming," Noss said, suddenly serious. "You pleasure yourself because it gives you strength for the hard times. I know you, Lara. What is it?"

"Kol had a daughter by one of his women. A Darkling named Ciarda. She seeks to destroy Kol's sons and rule the Dark Lands herself. Her magic is strong. If she is allowed to have her way she will reach out her hand to wreak havoc in Hetar first and then Terah. There is a rumor there now that the Hierarch is coming."

"The Hierarch is a myth," Noss said. "Isn't it?"

"I honestly don't know," Lara said, "but I do know Ciarda must be stopped. Kol's sons are practically grown, and they continue to battle for supremacy in the Dark Lands. I must seek them out, and learn which of these two evils is the lesser. Then I will destroy the other that Ciarda may be exposed. Her half brother will control her once he has the Dark Lands firmly in his grip. It will take years, and the darkness will be kept at bay."

"You must destroy your own child?" Noss gasped.

"I birthed them, but they are not mine," Lara said. "They are Kol's sons. You know I was entrapped into having them. Few know my connection with the Dark Lands, Noss, but you are my friend, and know what I went through."

Noss nodded. "I was honored that you could confide in me," she remembered. "I cannot imagine what you suffered then, and must now suffer." Noss reached out and took Lara's hand.

Lara squeezed the hand in hers. She and Noss had a long and deep bond even if their lives had gone in different directions. "It will be easier, I think, for not knowing them," she told her friend. "I hope it will be easier, but even my cold faerie heart quails at the thought of condemning someone to death. Still it must be done."

"Could not someone else do it?" Noss asked her. "Why did the Shadow Prince make you the responsible party for such a heinous act?"

Lara sighed. "Is it monstrous to condemn a monster?" she asked. "And Kol's sons will be monsters you may be certain. Those who have been responsible for raising them will have seen to that. They will have vied with each other to produce the most atrocious and shockingly evil creature."

"Do not think about it," Noss said. "It is too awful to even contemplate."

"Nay, I shall not think about it. I shall think of the Horse Lord instead," Lara said with a small smile. "Tonight I shall enjoy his passion, and tomorrow he will be gone. He will be a perfect divertissement, and I will not consider what is to come."

"They say his manhood is as big as a stallion's." Noss laughed softly. "You will tell me if it is so tomorrow, Lara."

"I will," Lara promised, and then she chuckled.

"You are like a pair of young maidens, heads together, giggling," Noss's husband, Liam, leader of the clan family Fiacre, said as he joined them. "What is it that amuses you two? What mischief are you up to this afternoon?"

"We are speaking on the subject of men," Noss told her mate. "Lara has decided to take pleasures with Roan."

"Good!" Liam replied. "Now maybe he will stop mooning about each time he learns you are here in the New Outlands."

"Or maybe he will moon even more," Lara teased Liam pertly.

Liam threw back his head and laughed heartily. "Be gentle with the fellow for all our sakes, my lady Domina," he said.

At the evening meal Roan could hardly keep his eyes from Lara, and when his hand went to his cup once too often she laid her own hand over his saying softly, "It is impossible that a man of your years and experience could disappoint me, unless of course he grew too drunk to enjoy what we both anticipate. After this afternoon's little demonstration I am eager to be with you tonight, my lord Roan."

"I yearn for you, and yet you terrify me now that what I have so longed for is to become a reality," Roan admitted, low.

"Then we shall not wait any longer, my lord," Lara said. "Come," she said, rising from her seat at the High Board and leading him from the hall.

He stumbled after her wondering what had happened to his confidence. How long had he desired this woman? Years! And now that he was to obtain his heart's desire he was actually frightened of what was to come. What if he didn't measure up to her other lovers? What if he disappointed her? Was the anticipation to be better than the reality?

Lara brought him to the small chamber that was hers when she visited the Fiacre. Closing the door behind her, she turned the key in the lock. A mattress upon a slightly raised platform took up most of the space. On the narrow wall a small window was open to the evening sky. Lara shrugged off her pale green cotton gown, saying as she did, "I do not want you tearing one of the few summer garments I keep here." Then she rotated about so that she was facing him. "Is everything as you expected, Roan?" she asked him.

The Horse Lord's mouth fell open as his dark blue eyes devoured the female before him. He was not used to women taking the initiative when it came to pleasures. He was not certain as he viewed her perfect form if he liked her boldness, but then she smiled at him.

"Oh, Roan, I have startled you, haven't I? I am sorry." Stepping up to him, she brushed her lips across his. "Will you let me undress you? Or do you prefer to do it yourself?" Lara smiled again.

"Nay," he managed to say. "You do it."

"Oh, I am glad you will let me," she purred as her fingers undid the horn buttons on his soft leather jerkin. Beneath he wore a cotton shirt, and she unlaced it, sliding her palms across his smooth chest as she pushed the shirt off over his shoulders and down his sinewy arms. Bending, she licked at his nipples. Then, kneeling, she helped him to pull off his boots before undoing the close-fitting leather pants he wore and sliding them over his tight buttocks. Her hands lingered on his flesh, caressing him teasingly.

He was on fire. His heart was beating so hard he thought it would burst through his chest. When she nuzzled her face into his groin he actually groaned. Roan pulled Lara to her feet and kissed her passionately. Her mouth opened easily beneath his. Their tongues sparred lustfully back and forth. She caught his, and briefly sucked on it. But then Lara broke off the embrace, and stepped back to frankly survey him.

"It is true," she said thoughtfully.

"What is true?" he managed to ask her in return.

"You are hung as well as your own stallion, my lord Roan. I had heard it said, but so often such rumors have no place in truth." She ran her fingernails very lightly down his length then wrapped her hand about his thickness, squeezing gently. "Ah yes, I believe we will give each other great pleasures," Lara told him.

He was beginning to regain his equilibrium. Her boldness was very exciting, but it was not in the natural order of things. He needed to regain control of their situation. Pushing her firmly to her knees, he rubbed the tip of his manhood against her ripe lips, watching through slitted eyes as she opened her mouth and took him in. "Very good, my beauty," he told her. "Now please me, woman, as you were meant to do."

A single hand began to knead at her head, his thick fingers digging into her scalp as she tugged and sucked at the large manhood. She could sense its life force as it began to throb. She could taste his excitement. Lara teased the manhood within her mouth, drawing it deeper into her throat. He groaned again.

"Cease your torture, faerie woman! I can bear no more," he admitted to her.

Lara rose long enough to collapse upon the mattress, her legs open and hanging over it. "Come, my lord, and take what you have so long yearned for," she invited him.

He knelt down. "First, faerie woman, you must suffer as you have made me suffer," he told her. His tongue licked swiftly up the inside of one thigh and down the other. It flickered down her shadowed slit, pushing between her nether lips, seeking out her sensitive spot. Her whimper told him when he had found it. His mouth tugged on the little nub of flesh until she was writhing upon the mattress. Satisfied at last he stood, and, sliding his hands beneath her hips, Roan drew Lara to him, sheathing her slowly until he was deep. Then he began to pump her.

Lara's entire body relaxed as he filled her and began to work his great manhood back and forth. As he moved faster and deeper, her head began to spin with the pleasure that began to arise from deep within her. "Do not stop," she cried out to him. "Use this mare as long as you can, my great stallion! Deeper! Aah, that is it! Yes!"

Her words seemed to excite him further, and Lara could have sworn that his manhood become thicker and harder within her. She wrapped her legs about his torso, and, well mounted now, he released his hold upon her hips, reaching out instead to grasp her full breasts, squeezing them hard, and leaning forward so he might suckle her, and bite her tempting nipples while his great manhood pistoned her until Lara was moaning with the pleasure he was giving her. Finally unable to bear any more of this delight, she released her juices, screaming softly as she did.

At the sound of her voice raised in pleasured agony the Horse Lord spilled his own juices, and roared with his open pleasure. It was difficult to stop pumping her, for his lust was hot and highly engaged. At last he managed to withdraw from her, and collapsed next to her upon the mattress. When he found his voice again he said, "You are even more magnificent than I imagined, my beauty. You were well worth the wait."

"And you, my lord Roan, are to be complimented for your tender vigor," Lara told him. Rolling over, she nipped at his shoulder. "I want more of you."

"You are the boldest female I have ever known," he said.

"I am an honest woman, my lord Roan," she responded. "The night is new, and I have many pleasures to share with you before the dawn comes. Do you think a woman is only to be taken upon her back?" And Lara laughed at the look of surprise upon his rough, handsome face. "You are more than well equipped to play stallion to my mare. I am not surprised you have eight wives, and I will wager none pleases you as I have pleased you in these last few minutes."

"My women are gentle and complaisant," he replied. "A man likes a woman who knows her place."

"Was not the pleasure you just had with me better than any you have previously known?" Lara demanded to know. "It was, and you lie if you say otherwise!"

He roared with his laughter, admitting, "Aye, I have never known pleasures such as we have just shared. Why is that?"

"Because I am as you have proclaimed, bold. I am your equal, Roan. Indeed I am your superior! You do not know what to expect of me. I am not ordinary. We could not be wed to one another, my lord, but we will be grand lovers if you will trust me, and follow my lead. Do you think you can, Horse Lord?"

She was the most exciting woman he had ever know. "Aye," he said. "Lead on!"

Lara jumped up. Following her, he climbed through the narrow window, and out into a moonlit field where she knelt in the sweet grass. He mounted her as a stallion would a mare, thrusting deep, biting her neck, roaring with pleasure as she squealed and bucked beneath him. She was pure magic, and more than well worth his long wait.

8.

ALFRIGG, CHANCELLOR TO THE imprisoned Twilight Lord, Kol, was troubled. Of late he had heard rumors that someone outside the Dark Lands sought for his master's twin sons. But he could not determine for certain if the whispers on the wind were true. Or, if the rumors were truth, then who was it looking for Kolbein and Kolgrim? And why were they seeking them out? Alfrigg's brown eyes were thoughtful. His gnarled fingers clasped and unclasped as he considered what to do.

Rising from the dais step where he had been seated, the old dwarf began to pace about the chamber with its silver-veined black marble walls. The tall silver censers that had once lined the room were dark but for one, which burned with a feeble flame. This was the throne room of his master, silent now but for the sound of his booted footsteps. Reaching the tarnished silver double doors, he turned, and began to pace back toward the gray and silver throne upon its matching dais. The purple-and-silver-striped silk canopy over the throne was faded, the deteriorating fabric hanging in shreds. Beyond the black marble colonnade to his left the darkened skies thundered with an impending storm.

How he wished his master were here. But no one knew what had happened to Kol, or where he was. Yet Alfrigg had pretended that he did, and had run his master's kingdom ever since the Twilight Lord's disappearance. No one had dared to question the dwarf, for their fear of Kol was greater than their curiosity. The twin princes had been sent away in their infancy to be fostered. Kolbein going to a family of Wolfyn and Kolgrim to a family of giants. Alfrigg was the only one who knew where they were. And now an unknown someone sought them.

Could it be the faerie woman who had given them life? He would not know unless he asked. Did he dare approach Lara? But why would she want to know the whereabouts of her sons unless it was to destroy them? Perhaps Kol was dead, and if she killed his heirs did she believe her victory over the Dark Lands would be complete?

There was another possibility he hated to even consider. Kol's daughters. But why would they search out their half brothers? He had seen that three of the four of his master's daughters who survived infancy and childhood were married off to those who could be of use to Kol one day. Only one, the Darkling Ciarda, remained unwed. He smiled a small smile. Ciarda was so much like her father. She had been born several years before Kol took the faerie woman for his mate. And her mother had been fortunate in not retaining Kol's favor, for several of the women who did were killed when he had mated with Lara to produce a male heir. Alfrigg had to admit to himself that he had always had a grandfatherly weakness for Ciarda. He would speak with her before he made any decisions.

The chancellor sent for Kol's daughter, and marveled at her beauty when she came to stand before him. She was as pale as moonlight with her father's ebony hair, and silver-gray eyes that changed color with her moods. He tried to recall what her mother had been like, but he could not. Ciarda stood before his chair, which was set upon a lower step on the throne's dais. She waited patiently for him to speak.

"There are rumors," Alfrigg's reedy voice began, "of someone seeking out your brothers, my lady Ciarda. Is it you? Or would you know who would look for the twins?"

"It is not I, my lord Alfrigg," she answered him, eyes lowered properly as they should be. "Why, I wonder, would someone seek out my brothers?"

"Perhaps to destroy Kol's male heirs," the chancellor said, not really meaning to discuss serious matters with a mere female. Still, Ciarda was wiser than most women.

"Oooh! That is terrible, my lord! We must protect my brothers for my father's sake," Ciarda said to him. Then she blushed. "Forgive me, my lord Alfrigg. You will have already thought of that. I should not have been so bold. Punish me if you will." She hung her dark head in shame.

Alfrigg immediately felt a burst of compassion. The girl had meant no harm. She merely wanted to help. "Nay, my child, you need no punishment. You are but anxious to be of assistance." Reaching out, he took her hand, and patted it before dropping it again.

"Oh, thank you, my lord," Ciarda gushed. Old fool, she thought. When the Dark Lands are mine to rule I will twist your head off myself. Creatures like you can never accept that women are capable of ruling, and I shall rule!

"Then if it is not you searching for the princes it has be someone from outside our lands. Certainly they mean Kol's sons harm, else they would come to me," he muttered as if speaking to himself. And then remembering the girl he said, "I thank you for coming, my lady Ciarda. I will give your father your loving regards. He had begun to consider a suitable husband for you, my dear."

"I want no husband," Ciarda said in a suddenly hard voice that caused Alfrigg to look at her more closely.

"Lady, you must have a man to guide you. You are female," Alfrigg reminded her. He noted her eyes had engaged his briefly, and were dark with her displeasure. For a brief moment Alfrigg was reminded strongly of the Twilight Lord himself, and was rendered speechless. She was Kol in female form, he thought uncomfortably. But then before he might remonstrate with her Ciarda curtsied politely to him.

"I will go now, my lord Alfrigg," she said and, turning, went through the tarnished silver doors of the throne room.

The dwarf hummed beneath his breath thoughtfully for a long moment. As fond as he was of Kol's daughter he was no fool. He never had been, which was why he had managed to retain his position as the Twilight Lord's chancellor. His keen instincts had been the key to his survival. He would set a watch upon Ciarda. He had seen a ruthlessness in her today that both surprised and worried him. He had known women in his day who were ambitious. He shuddered. They were unnatural creatures.

It was time, he realized, to decide which of Kol's sons would have the kingdom of the Dark Lands. Wherever his master was, if he was even alive, it was obvious he was not returning to rule. Kol had offended those with far greater powers than his, and by failing to gain the faerie woman's powers he had rendered himself virtually helpless. Kolbein and Kolgrim would be fifteen now. He would choose one of them, remain with him long enough to guide him properly, choose his successor and retire to his home atop a mountain peak far from this castle. But which boy? And how to choose? He knew the families in which they had been raised would champion their fosterlings. He must first learn all he could about those families.

Kolbein had been put with a Wolfyn lord and his mates. Kolgrim had gone to one of the few Forest Giants who had not defected from Kol's allies before the battle of The City. He had placed them with these families, and never set eyes on either of them since. He had received no reports, made no visits to Kol's twin sons. In this manner he had protected their whereabouts. Now, however, he would make a visit to each family to see how these two boys had grown up. Then he would make his decision.

Neither boy knew about the other. Neither knew of his heritage. Alfrigg had gained an oath from each of the foster families in this matter that they would not tell. It was important because the laws of the Dark Lands forbade the killing of a male from the ruling family. For centuries this had not proved a problem as only one male was born in each generation. But Kol's chosen mate had birthed identical twin sons, and only one could rule. Alfrigg would choose between them, and the other would never know he might have been a great ruler.

Alfrigg departed the deserted throne room and found his way to his own small chamber. There upon a little table was his supper of oat porridge, black bread and a wedge of hard cheese. There was a goblet of bloodred wine. He ate the food and drank the wine. Then locking his chamber door and, setting a heavy iron bar across it, he climbed into bed to fall instantly asleep as was his custom.

When he was deep in slumber, his snores rattling the small window, in the wall a wraithlike Munin appeared. He stared long and hard at the Twilight Lord's chancellor. Then with slender gray fingers the Munin reached into Alfrigg's head to draw out a gnarled gold thread. He studied the thread thoughtfully, unraveling it, reading it carefully. Then, replacing the thread, the Munin disappeared into the shadows of the chamber to reappear in Prince Kaliq's palace of Shunnar. The Munin shivered. The Prince's desert kingdom was too warm for him. The Munin far preferred a more temperate climate. He would deliver his information, and depart as quickly as he could. Making his way to the prince's privy chamber he entered.

"Were you able to obtain what I seek?" Kaliq of the Shadows asked the Munin.

"He had obviously been thinking of them, for the memory was on top, not buried deep in his subconscious," the Munin said. "The one called Kolbein was placed with the Wolfyn. His twin, Kolgrim, is with a Forest Giant. I also found new memories of the Darkling Ciarda. She came to see him, and roused his suspicions. He has put a watch on her, for although he is fond of her he does not trust her," the Munin reported.

"Were you able to obtain the name of either the Wolfyn or the Forest Giant?" Prince Kaliq asked the Munin.

"He has buried those memories much too deep, my lord. He is an ancient dwarf, and I feared to harm him if I probed any harder. Alfrigg is a careful fellow. I suspect he has actually almost forgotten the names of the Wolfyn and the giant in order to protect his charges. I did my best for you," the Munin said.

"I know that you did," Prince Kaliq said. He tossed the Munin a bag of gemstones. "As you requested, half of them are Transmutes from the Emerald Mountains mine. Give your lord my felicitations. You gained me enough information so that I will more easily be able to seek out the names that I need. Thank you."

"Thank you, my lord Prince," the Munin said, and then, clutching the chamois bag containing his fee, he faded away.

A Wolfyn and a Forest Giant, Kaliq considered carefully. Skrymir, Lord of the Forest Giants, would know who had remained behind in the Dark Lands before the battle of The City. There had been one or two, but given the opportunity to escape the Twilight Lord's kingdom the remaining Forest Giants had gone with Skrymir to the forested hill country of Terah. Kolgrim should be easy to find. Kolbein would be more difficult because the Wolfyn were yet numerous despite their defeat at the battle of The City. Their mates always bore litters of several pups who grew to adulthood within two years, and so their numbers, while diminished by the battle of The City, still remained high.

"Skrymir, Skrymir, heed my call. Come to me from out yon wall," Kaliq said aloud, and then watched as the wall seemed to melt away, and the Lord of the Forest Giants stepped through into the Shadow Prince's privy chamber.

"What is it you want of me, Kaliq of the Shadows?" Skrymir asked, and he shook himself. "This magic of yours is too compelling." He was so tall his head was close to touching the high ceilings of the chamber.

"Let us go outside," the prince invited, attempting to make his reluctant guest a bit more comfortable. "My garden is lovely." He ushered the giant into the outdoors.

"Ah, yes, that is better," Skrymir agreed, stretching. He held out his hand. "Step into my palm, Kaliq of the Shadows, so we may speak face-to-face."