Heritage and Exile (108 page)

Danilo said, with a wavering grin, “We never thought it would come to this when we were together in Nevarsin and I learned to write a better hand than you. Now you can keep me on hand as your private secretary.”

Regis knew what Danilo was trying to say without putting it into words. As Heir to Hastur he had been visible enough, always in the public eye. But he had done his duty to ensure heirs to the Hastur Domain, and for the rest he had told himself, fiercely,
I am not the only lover of men in the Domains!
But now, as Prince of the Comyn, he would be even more the public representative of the Comyn. Centuries ago, the Hastur-kin had separated the Hastur Domains of Hastur and Elhalyn, allotting to the Elhalyn all the ceremonial and public duties with the crown.

“A crown on a stick, that's what they want,” he said grimly. “Something they can hang up in the marketplace and bow down to!” He thought, but did not say, that the Domains had effectively been without a King all during the two-and-twenty years of the Regency, ever since the infant Prince Derik was left fatherless, and the Domains had been none the worse for that lack.

“We had better make sure that there are any Domains to rule over,” he said, when the message had been written, “Derik may not have been the only one to die. And whom shall we send with this message?”

“Lerrys?” Danilo suggested. “He knows the Legate personally—”

Regis shook his head. “Lerrys is too much a Terran sympathizer—I'm not sure he'd deliver the message at all,” he said. “Lerrys's view is that the Terrans have every right to be here since we are a Terran colony. Merryl?”

“Couldn't trust him to keep his temper,” Danilo replied promptly.

Regis said hesitantly, “I would send Lew Alton; but he was wounded Festival Night—”

And he is personally concerned in this business of Sharra. . . .
“I wonder, Danilo; if I asked Lord Ardais to go—”

“I think he would be pleased to carry such a message to the Legate,” Danilo said, “for he knows what it will do to the city, having uniformed Spaceforce about, and he is always eager to keep the people calm.”

“I won't order him to do it,” said Regis. “I know he does not like to go among Terrans, but he may be willing to go if I ask it personally as Lord Elhalyn. . . .”

And again the tragedy struck him; Derik was older than he was himself, yet Derik had died without so much as a
nedestro
son to carry on his name. He had loved Linnell and had waited for their marriage, so that Linnell might bear his Heir; and now they were both dead.

“I will go and ask Dyan myself,” he said, glancing at the climbing sun, and suddenly aware that he had had no sleep and that he was weary. “He should still be sleeping, but for this he will not mind being wakened.”

But in the Ardais quarters there were only servants, and one of them told Danilo that Lord Ardais had gone out early.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Zandru's hells, sir, no! Do you think the Lord Ardais tells his comings and goings to the likes of
me?
”

“Damn! Now I'll have to hunt all through the Castle for him,” Regis said, wondering whether Dyan had gone to the Guard hall to see if he, an experienced officer, could be of some help to Gabriel, or whether he had left the ballroom earlier on some private errand and was still abed somewhere with a new favorite. If so, he might not know anything of the destruction that had raged in the Comyn!

Had it been only the day before that he had discussed this very possibility—sending Spaceforce into the Old Town of Thendara to find Kadarin? He had advised against it then; but Lawton had that authority, and now Kadarin had appeared actually within the Comyn Castle, to try and lure Lew Alton back to them . . . had he any right to keep Lawton from finding this man who was wanted for murder, and other crimes, by both Terran and Darkovan?

“Gabriel may know,” he said, “and there are guardsmen at the doors of the Aldaran suite; they may be able to tell us where Gabriel is—in the Guard Hall, or out hunting for our wanted man!”

The suite of rooms allotted in Comyn Castle to the Aldarans had stood empty ever since Regis could remember; it was in a wing of the Castle which Regis had never knowingly entered before. Two big Guardsmen stood outside the door which was bolted shut on the outside. They saluted Regis, and he greeted them politely.

“Darren, Ruyven—I have to speak with my brother-in-law. Do you know if
Dom
Gabriel is in the Guard Hall, or if he's gone into the city? I have to locate Lord Ardais—”

“Oh, I can tell you where the Lord Ardais is, sir,” the Guardsman Ruyven said. “He's in there, talking to Lord Aldaran.”

Regis frowned and said, “I heard Captain Lanart-Hastur give orders that no one should be allowed to speak with Aldaran—”

“I didn't hear him say that, sir, I only came on at dawn,” Ruyven said, “and anyhow—” he looked down at his boots, but Regis know perfectly well what the man was thinking; was he supposed to give orders to a Lord of Comyn, and, moreover, one who had been his own superior officer for many years? Regis said, “Never mind, then, Ruyven, but you'll have to let us in to see him, too.”

When Regis was small, he had been curious about the locked, empty Aldaran apartments. As the Guardsman let him in, he noticed that a dank and empty smell still clung about the walls and the embroidered hangings with the Aldaran double-headed eagle. They found Beltran in the main presence-chamber; someone had brought him some breakfast and he was eating porridge and nut-bread from a tray on his lap. Dyan sat at ease in a nearby chair, drinking something hot from a mug.

He looked up curiously at the younger men, but Beltran grinned widely. Regis had forgotten how much alike he and Lew really were, even through Lew's scars.

“Well, Regis,” he said, “at last we are even; you came as kinsman to my castle and I imprisoned you—and now I come as kinsman to yours, and you imprison me. I suppose it's only fair you should have your day.”

It was like Beltran, Regis supposed, to put him immediately on the defensive. He said stiffly, “A word with you, if you please, Lord Ardais.” He was not going to discuss Comyn business with Beltran present.

“Lord Aldaran is party to Comyn business,” Dyan reminded them.

“Not this,” Regis said coldly. “Are you aware, Lord Dyan, that Prince Derik died during the night?”

“Good riddance,” said Dyan.

“Kinsman!” Danilo protested, and Dyan turned fiercely on him.

“Zandru's hells, must you be such a hypocrite? We all know that Derik was a weakling, about as fit to rule as my three-year-old son! Now, perhaps, there will be some force in the Comyn, and we can talk to these Terrans as they deserve!”

Regis said stiffly, “It will be my business now to talk with the Terrans, Lord Dyan. It was for that I came here—I wish you to act as my embassy to them, with a message—”

Dyan interrupted, “There is only one message I will bear to the Terrans, Lord Regis, and you as a Hastur know what that message will be:
get out!
Off our world, off our planet, and take your Empire along with you!”

Lord of Light! It is worse than I thought!
Dyan went on fiercely, “We made a good start, you and I, Regis, when we destroyed the Terran weapons! Now let us have the courage to follow up that message with a stronger one, aimed directly at Thendara!”

Does he truly believe that I destroyed Beltran's weapons as a message to the Terrans?
Regis said, “Lord Dyan, this is not the place to discuss long-range Comyn policy. At the moment, the Legate has sent Spaceforce into the city; I have written a formal request that they be withdrawn, so that the Guards may do their own work in looking for a wanted criminal—and murderer, or are you not aware that Kadarin's attack last night cost us Prince Derik and Linnell, and came close to destroying Lord Alton?”

“That would be a smaller loss than any,” said Dyan coldly. “With Derik gone, we have a chance at a show of strength. Your grandfather has played both sides too long, Regis, and the Altons have tried to back him up. Now it is time to make it very clear to the Terrans where we stand, and now we have Beltran on our side, with a stronger message than any. . . .”

Regis realized that he should have known this all along. He said, in a whisper—he could not make his voice work—“Kinsman, are you seriously advocating the use of
Sharra
against the Terrans?”

“Not advocating; stating a fact,” Dyan said. “Those who do not join with us—” he looked up, gave Regis a hard, unequivocal stare, “are traitors to Comyn, and should, for the sake of our whole world, for the survival of Darkover, be silenced! Zandru's hells, Regis, don't you realize this is the only chance for Darkover to survive without becoming what they call us—just another Terran colony?”

“The existence of the Comyn,” Regis said quietly, trying not to show the horror he felt, “is based upon the Compact. Sharra when used as a weapon is in defiance of Compact—”

“And while we go on observing the forever-be-damned Compact,” said Dyan fiercely, “they surround us, they will bury us! We are like rabbithorns before a pack of wolves—and you sit here peacefully saying ‘B-a-a-a' while the wolves open their jaws! Do you really think that we can fight the Empire with our swords and a scant six dozen Guardsmen?”

“Why do you assume that we need to fight the Empire?”

“Regis, I cannot believe that you, a Hastur, are saying this! Are you going to hand us meekly over to the Terrans?”

“Of course not,” said Regis, “but there has not been a real war on Darkover for generations. My father died in an illegal war with Terran weapons—”

“Isn't that reason enough to get them right off our world?”

Regis drew a long breath, clenching his fists to keep quiet and not shout out his defiance. He wondered if Dyan was mad, or if he really believed all this. Dyan looked at him and his face softened somewhat. He said, “You have had no sleep; and a lot has happened in this one night. This is neither the time nor the place to discuss what we must do about the Terrans. Have you had anything to eat since last night?” Regis shook his head, and Beltran said, “Sit down and join us at breakfast, won't you? We can discuss politics later. Rogan—” he beckoned his servant, “plates for Lord Hastur and Lord Danilo.” And before they knew what had happened, they were seated around the breakfast table, being served porridge and broiled rabbithorn. Regis did not feel hungry, but he knew enough of matrix mechanics to know that last night's battle with Sharra had left him drained and exhausted. He ate hungrily, while Beltran, putting hostility aside, became the gracious host.

Beltran said aloud, “I don't wish my cousin of Alton any harm. I would like to make peace with him. His Gift is necessary to the use of Sharra, and he is Tower-trained; he is the safety factor for the use of Sharra, his control and strength. Can you arrange for me to put this to him, Regis?”

“I think it would be no use,” said Regis quietly. “I think he would rather die.”

“That,” said Dyan harshly, “would be
his
choice, not ours! But if he chooses to stand with the Terrans, then he must take the consequences—”

“No,” said Beltran. “I think he is the only living man who holds the Alton Gift.”

“No,” Dyan said, “there is an Alton child. Lew's daughter.” Beltran waved that away. “A girl child. It's a man we need, with Alton strength.”

So I must keep that secret. Dyan, untrained, does not know the nature of his own Gift. He knows he does not have the Ardais Gift . . . he adopted Danilo because he found the Ardais Gift had passed to Dani through one of Dyan's father's nedestro daughters. But he does not know, and he must never know, his own Alton Gift. . . .
Regis looked helplessly at Dyan, only now fully aware of what Dyan had always meant to him. He knew Dyan's cruelty, and yet he had never been able to blame him altogether, knowing what powerful forces drove Dyan; knowing Dyan a haunted man, and a desperately unhappy one.

He set down his fork, feeling that Beltran's hospitality would choke him. He held himself tightly barriered lest either of the older men pick up even a hint of his thoughts. “Forgive me,
vai dom'yn,
I have business elsewhere. Danilo, attend me,” he said, rising, and turned away. “We will speak of this at the proper time, Lord Dyan.”