"My lords, good masters and ladies," Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, said. "We are straying once again from the problem. I am certain that the council can offer the magnates and the Merchants Guild something in return for their generosity, but the people must be fed or the populace will die. Many good people have been lost already."

"Form a committee," Aubin Prospero said. "The committee can decide what is fair and just. When they do we will vote upon it, and if their recommendation passes then we will open the granaries."

"We must open them before then," Mikhail said quietly. "You know as well as I do that a committee will go on and on for weeks until all parties are satisfied. We cannot let our folk starve while we talk. If we can at least agree that the magnates and the Merchants Guild will be paid then we must feed the people today and every day after."

"My uncle is very wise, isn't he?" Zagiri said softly, and Alka nodded.

"But what if we do not like what the committee decides, and the council approves?" Cuthbert Ahasferus wanted to know. "We must not be cheated!"

"If you wait any longer," Prince Lothair remarked dryly, "it will be a moot point, for there will be no mouths to feed at all, and you will get nothing for your trouble."

"The prince is right," Master Rupert said. "Let us vote now!"

"Very well," the Lord High Ruler said. "All in favor of opening the granaries today raise your hands." The hands went up, and Jonah saw all but the two agents from the Merchants Guild in favor. "The motion is passed. All in favor of forming a committee to decide what will be paid the magnates and merchants raise your hand." All the hands were raised. "The motion is passed," Jonah said again. "If there is nothing further to discuss, my lords, good masters and ladies, we will adjourn this meeting."

"Wait!" Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, said. "We must pass a motion that those who attempt to profit from the grain to be given the populace will be punished. Would Sir Philip and Sir Anatol like to suggest a punishment?"

"Twenty lashes in the main public square for the first offense," Sir Philip said. "Male or female."

"Beheading for the second," Sir Anatol replied. "Male or female."

The council agreed unanimously.

"Notices will be posted to that effect," the Lord High Ruler said. "Are we adjourned now, my lords, good masters and ladies?"

There was a murmur of assent.

"That was quite wonderful," Zagiri said. "We have nothing like this in Terah, although I will say my mother has tried. Terahn women don't want to be involved in the business of government. My grandmother says it is not seemly."

"I would think the Queen of the Forest Faeries would approve considering she rules her own kingdom," Lady Farah said.

"Nay, not her," Zagiri said. "My father's mother, the Lady Persis. My grandmother Ilona paid very little attention to me once it became apparent that I had no magic in me." Zagiri laughed. "She adores my little sister, Marzina, who has much magic at her fingertips. Marzina is with her now learning as much as she can."

"Well, I probably would like this Lady Persis," Lady Farah said. "A woman should always know her place. You certainly do, my dear. My son is obviously very happy with you. You will give him children soon, I hope."

"We have Egon," Zagiri replied. "I am not ready yet to be a real mother."

"You are almost eighteen!" Lady Farah said, shocked.

Zagiri laughed. "If my belly grew big I could not take pleasures with my husband and our sex slaves, my lady. We are considering adding a female sex slave to our household. Jonah has so much fun watching me with Doran and Casnar, and we both enjoy watching them together, but I should like to see them, and my husband, with another girl. Do you have any suggestions for us?"

Lady Farah sighed. "There is a special slave market we could visit together, I suppose, if you are determined to follow this course," she said. "Your appetite for pleasures is amazing, my child. You may not have your mother's magic, but you have her lust for life."

"Let us go to your slave market this afternoon," Zagiri said. "Poor Jonah will need to be distracted after today's council meeting. All this talk of the Hierarch will have upset him, I am certain. Do you think such a person really exists, Farah?"

"I do not know," Lady Farah admitted. "But whoever he is I hope he does not come into The City before we can get the populace calmed. It would only cause more troubles for my son, and the council."

Her hopes were not to be realized because despite the council's promise to pay the magnates for their grain, the magnates refused to open their warehouses so that the food might be distributed. Word had spread throughout The City that there would be food, and when there wasn't, several small riots broke out, which had to be put down by the Mercenaries. Jonah was fit to be tied. He called Cuthbert Ahasferus and Aubin Prospero to him. They would not come, for they feared the wrath of the people. And then it happened as crowds gathered outside one of the largest warehouses and granaries in The City.

As the hungry citizens led by Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, demanded in the name of the council that the warehouses be opened, there was a sudden burst of bright light. And there before the warehouse stood a tall young man who thrust out his hand toward the warehouse door, which immediately burst open. The crowd surged forward, but the young man again held up his hand.

"My children, there is food for all here, and I know you are starving, but the distribution must be done in an orderly manner. Everyone will be fed, I promise you. Your own elected councilman, Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, will guide you. Do as he says, and all will be well."

"It is the Hierarch!" a voice in the crowd cried out.

The people surged forward again, but this time it was to touch the hem of the Hierarch's dark blue robe. Some began to weep. Others cried out for his blessing, and the Hierarch obliged them, touching their heads, clasping their hands, offering a kind and gentle word of encouragement.

Councilman Mikhail ordered the workers in the warehouse to prepare to feed the people who stood behind him. Frightened for their lives, they hesitated.

The Hierarch came forward, and spoke to them in low and soothing tones. "My children, you must feed your brothers and sisters. It is my wish you do it."

"My lord," the foreman of the workers said, "we do not know you, and our masters will punish us if we allow their goods to be stolen."

"I am the Hierarch," Cam said, "and I have come to lead Hetar back to its glory. You have strayed, my children, from the path of noble tradition. You must restore the old ways, and I will help you. Your masters will hear me, and they will follow my ways. But first we must feed the citizens of this great city. They will need their strength if we are to rebuild Hetar. Help us now, brothers, to distribute the grain."

It was as if the foreman and the workers had been touched by magic, for, nodding, they began immediately to gather the people outside the warehouse into orderly lines, and the grain and rice began to be passed out. Hearing of this, several of the magnates came to the warehouse to protest, but the Hierarch approached them, assuring them that they would be paid for their goods.

"Did not your own council promise it?" he asked them.

"Aye, they did, but then they formed a committee to decide how much we will get," one plump magnate said. "Do you have any idea how long it takes a council committee to make a decision? They will argue over the smallest point for weeks. It will be months, if not years, before we see a single coin."

The Hierarch smiled. "The monies you will get from the grain in these warehouses is nothing to what you will gain if you will but listen to me. I know how difficult it has been these last years for you, but Hetar is to return to its old ways. A time when each citizen had a purpose, and a place. When all were fed well, and housed, and sickness was rare. A time when profits were as fat as a Winterfest goose. I have come to lead you back into your righteous ways. Has my coming not been foretold to you?"

"It was thought by most that the Hierarch was legend," one of the magnates said.

"Legend begins in truth and fact. Then as the centuries pass it becomes blurred until it is believed nothing more than fantasy. But I am real, my lords. And if you will follow me we will together return Hetar to its former glory, and your vaults to their former wealth." He smiled a brilliant smile, and to their surprise the magnates gathered at the warehouse felts their own lips turning up in an answering smile.

The distribution now under way, Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, quietly departed the warehouse, making his way to the Golden District where the Lord High Ruler lived. Easily recognized by the guards at the gates to this district, he was passed through, and made his way through the beautiful parkland whose flowering trees were now coming into bloom. There were beautiful homes scattered throughout the woodlands, and Mikhail frankly enjoyed the walk, almost feeling regret as he reached the palace, where he was admitted immediately.

Once the home of Gaius Prospero, it had been enlarged when its former owner had managed to make himself emperor of Hetar briefly. It would not have been considered a large palace in other kingdoms, but it sat upon the largest and finest piece of property in the Golden District, and commanded a fine view.

"Tell the Lord High Ruler that Councilman Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, awaits him," Mikhail told the majordomo who had come to greet him.

"At once, my lord," the majordomo said, bowing obsequiously. "At once!"

"Thank you," Mikhail replied, amused. It was hardly his position on the council that gained him such courtesy. It was because he was his father's son.

John Swiftsword held the distinction of having been the greatest swordsman in the Kingdom of Hetar. He had been the greatest Hetarian hero to fight in the battle of The City, losing his life, but helping to gain the victory. And, more infamously, he was the father of the faerie woman Lara, Domina of Terah, a legend in herself. Mikhail smiled to himself. It had been some time since he had seen his half sister. His mother was jealous of Lara, and had hidden her existence from her younger brothers for many years. But Mikhail remembered the lovely girl who had played with him, because his father had quietly seen that he remembered. And then when they were both grown they had met again, and the rapport had been immediate between them.

The majordomo returned. "The Lord High Ruler bids you to await him in the library. He will be with you as soon as he can." The servant led Mikhail to a beautiful book-lined room. "I will bring you refreshment, my lord Mikhail."

"It is just Master Mikhail," the councilman said, and sat down to await Jonah.

The majordomo left, and when he returned he was accompanied by a serving woman who carried a small tray, which was set on a nearby table. "If you need anything else, Master Mikhail, you have but to call out. The servant will await outside the library door." Then he lowered his voice. "Refresh yourself. It will be a while before my master can come to you." Then the two servants bowed themselves from the library.

Mikhail poured himself a goblet of strawberry Frine. He set it and a small plate of crisp cheese wafers next to his chair. Then, choosing a book from the library shelves, he sat down to await the Lord High Ruler, immersing himself in a rather interesting small history while nibbling upon the wafers and sipping from his goblet. He did not often have the opportunity to read in quiet with such delightful refreshment. He lived with his mother and brothers. His siblings were all Crusader Knights, each striving to match their father's reputation, and none coming even close to it. He himself was a scholar. His father had been a fine man, but Mikhail had discovered young that he had no talent for weapons.

He did not know how long he sat reading. The plate with the wafers was empty, as was his goblet, when the Lord High Ruler finally entered the room. Jonah was garbed in a house robe. His hair was tousled and he looked tired. The councilman rose to his feet, and bowed to Hetar's sovereign. "My lord."

"What do you have to tell me that is so important?" Jonah demanded.

"There are two things I thought you would want to know, my lord," Mikhail said.

"And they are?" Jonah asked.

"The distribution of the grain has begun at long last, my lord."

"And?"

"The Hierarch has come, my lord."

"What?" Jonah look surprised.

"The Hierarch has come, my lord," the councilman repeated. "It is he who managed to get the warehouses opened when even the council's orders could not."

Jonah grew pale. His worst fears were being realized, but he swallowed his fears, saying to Mikhail, son of Swiftsword, "I must meet the Hierarch. Can you arrange it, Councilman?"

"I can try, my lord," Mikhail replied.

"Then do it," Jonah said. And, turning, left his library. He sensed his throne was in danger. Best to meet the enemy before planning how to survive him.

13.

THE WORD BEGAN TO spread swiftly throughout Hetar. The Hierarch had come. Come to bring them back to the glory that was Hetar. A Hetar where everyone had a place, where tradition was honored. And in Terah word of the Hierarch reached Lara when one of the Terahn trading vessels brought this news to the young Dominus.

"What is a Hierarch?" Taj asked his mother.

"It is nothing but a legend," Lara said, "but someone is using that legend to their own advantage."

"But what is this Hierarch supposed to do?" Taj persisted.

"Make Hetar all glorious and powerful once again," Lara responded.

"Then Hetar and its Hierarch could be a threat to us once more," Taj said thoughtfully, surprising his mother with a new astuteness.

"Perhaps," Lara told him. "Perhaps not. But now are you not late to your lessons? Do not keep Sinon and Gare waiting, my son."

The boy hurried off, and Lara raced to the little windowless room she kept for her magic. She had a library of old volumes on several shelves, and now she began to look through them for an early history of Hetar. Finding it, she took it from the shelf and began to thumb through it. Finally she came upon what she sought.

At the end of her days the Lady Ulla was suddenly blessed with the gift of Sight. She saw a great future for her adopted land, but she also saw a time when Hetar would become bloated with its own importance, when false leaders would lead the kingdom astray, taking them from the traditions that had made them great. It was then that Hetar would fall upon terrible times. There would be starvation, and plague, and many deaths. But just when all was considered lost a savior would appear. He would be called the Hierarch, and if the people of Hetar would heed his words, and obey his dictates, Hetar would be returned to the great and prosperous kingdom that it had once been. He would come suddenly, his origins lost in the mists of time. No one but the Hierarch could save Hetar. And before he came a direct descendant of the Lady Ulla would sacrifice her own life to save that of her son. A son who would eventually become the most faithful of the Hierarch's adherents. There would be those in Hetar, powerful persons, who would attempt to deter the Hierarch, but he would prevail against them, for he was Hetar's only hope. This was the last prediction made by the Lady Ulla, and as all her previous prophecies had proved true, the foretelling of the Hierarch was to be taken seriously.

Lara closed the small book from which she had been reading. She was suddenly both amazed and admiring of the sorcerer Usi, whom she had defeated back when she had first come to Terah. Like all with magic, he had never expected his own end. But he had prepared for it nonetheless. His two concubines had borne his children in secret. A son whose descendants ruled the Dark Lands. A daughter from among whose descendants the forerunner of the Hierarch, the Lady Vilia, came. And it all led but to one end. The darkness that would envelop Hetar, and then Terah.

The Hierarch was no savior. Oh, she was certain that he would appear so in the beginning. But once Hetar was back to where it had begun the darkness was certain to fall. A people who believed that they were superior to all other peoples, who believed that they could do no wrong and justified their evil with their own righteousness were a dangerous people. And a dangerous enemy. Terah would have a difficult time standing against such an enemy. But who was controlling the Hierarch? Kol was imprisoned and helpless. Was it his sons? It was something she needed to learn quickly. She chanted: Kolgrim, Kolbein, come to me Though you would rather hidden be This faerie woman calls you her way And you cannot help but obey.

And the twins, identical looks upon their startled faces, were immediately before her.

Kolgrim smiled warmly. "Why, Mother, how nice of you to invite us to visit."

Kolbein reached for the dagger in his belt, but with a snap of her fingers Lara turned it into a thorny rose. Kolbein yelped as his fingers were sorely pricked.

"You should emulate your brother's manners," she told him. "Sit down, both of you!" And Lara pointed to two stools as she settled herself in the chamber's single chair. "I have some questions for you, my lords. What do you know of the Hierarch?"

"A Hetarian legend," Kolgrim said.

"Never heard of it," Kolbein snarled, but he did not look at her.

"Do not lie to me, Kolbein," Lara said sharply. "You were your half sister's lover, and I am certain she is behind this alleged Hierarch now making himself known in Hetar. Ciarda has great plans, and I will wager they do not include sharing the throne of the Dark Lands with her little brothers, or the spoils of Hetar."

"Why, brother dear," Kolgrim purred, "you lay with the bitch? More fool you to give her your essence. If she makes a child it will be more powerful than either you or I. Did you not consider such a thing as you rutted on her? But no, you would not have. Your only interest would have been in satisfying your need for pleasures. I cannot believe that we shared our mother's womb, for you are surely a fool!"

Kolbein's hand went again to where his dagger had been, but he remembered in time the thorns, and pulled his fingers back. "You are just envious that she wanted me for her lover," he growled.

Kolgrim laughed. "I should sooner bed a pandorian spider, dear boy," he said. Then he turned to Lara. "The Hierarch has announced his presence in Hetar?"

She nodded. "And has performed enough small miracles to gain the adoration of the populace, and the attention of Hetar's Lord High Ruler and the magnates."

"You believe Ciarda is behind it?" Kolgrim asked.

He was so like his father in thought, and gesture, Lara thought, fighting back a shudder of distaste. But it was obvious he was the cleverer twin, whereas Kolbein was a rough brute with little intellect. "I do believe Ciarda is pulling the strings of her puppet," Lara told him. "She would complete the conquest that your father could not."

"Where is your proof?" Kolbein demanded to know.

"Do you deny that she spoke to you of the Hierarch? Do you deny that she planned to murder your twin, leaving you to control the Dark Lands?"

Kolbein flushed, said nothing, but shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

"You fool!" Kolgrim burst out. "She meant to rule our kingdom through the son you would give her, or have you already given her a son? And you would have been disposed of at her convenience in some manner that suggested a normal death. How could you be so stupid, Kolbein? Thank Krell that our sire is not here to see you destroying everything our ancestors so carefully built." Now he turned to Lara. "Thank you for warning me of this viper you birthed."

"I did not bring you here to help either of you. If my actions to prevent the darkness from escaping your kingdom has accomplished that it was not my original purpose. But perhaps it is good that you both know what is going on outside the Dark Lands. I imagine you have both been so busy attempting to supplant each other it did not occur to you that it is not all about the pair of you."

"You sound like Chancellor Alfrigg." Kolgrim chuckled.

Suddenly there was the sound of tinkling bells, a puff of bright pink smoke and a young girl appeared in Lara's magic chamber. "Mother!"

"Marzina!" Lara gasped, horrified.

"Well, well, who have we here, Mother dear?" Kolgrim asked, a toothy smile lighting his handsome face.

"Return Dark Lords from whence you come! I'll call if you must come again," Lara said quickly, and the twins were immediately gone.