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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

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BOOK: Heritage and Exile
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I was lying on the bed in my quarters in Castle Aldaran. I felt bruised, sick, every separate bone and muscle in my body with a separate ache. I staggered into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. From the way my face looked, I can only imagine that my body kept on fighting long after I wasn't in it any more.
There were a couple of broken teeth ragged in my mouth, and they hurt like hell. My eyes were so bruised and swollen I could hardly get them open to see. My face had been cut by something hard, the big rings Kadarin wore, maybe. There were going to be scars.
Worse than the physical pain, which was bad enough, was the terrible sense of
emptiness
. Drearily, I wondered why I had not died. Some telepaths do die of shock, if they are forcibly severed from their own personal keyed matrices. I was just one of the unlucky ones.
Marjorie. My last memory was hearing her scream. Had they tortured her too?
If Kadarin had harmed her I would kill him . . .
The thought was wrenching pain. He had been my friend—he could not have pretended—not to a telepath. Sharra had corrupted him. . . .
I wished he
had
cut my throat instead.
Sharra.
I went to look for the matrix, but it was gone. I was glad to be rid of the damnable thing, but I was afraid, too. Would it let us go?
I drank cold water, trying to lessen the dry sickness in me. My hand kept fumbling for the place around my neck where the matrix should have been. I couldn't think straight or see properly, and there was a constant dull ringing in my ears. I was really surprised I had survived this shock.
Slowly I realized something else. Sore and aching as I was, there was no blood anywhere on my face or garments. Nor had I fouled my clothes. Someone had therefore been here, tended my wounds after a fashion, put clean clothes on me. Kadarin, when he came to take away the Sharra matrix?
I found I very much disliked the thought of Kadarin coming here, handling my unconscious body. I clenched my teeth, found out it hurt too much and made myself relax. Another score to settle with him.
Well, he'd done his worst, and I was still alive.
I tried the door cautiously. As I had suspected, it was bolted on the outside.
I ached so much that the thought of a long hot bath was tempting. The thought of being surprised naked and defenseless in the bathtub, however, removed all temptation from the idea. I soaked a cloth in the hot water and bathed my bruised face.
I ransacked the apartment, but of course my sword was gone, and the dagger, too. When I rummaged in my saddle-bags for my heavy traveling boots, even the small
skeandhu
in the boot was gone from its sheath.
A grim smile touched my face. Did they think me helpless? I had my Guardsman training still, and Kadarin might—he just might—despise me enough to come back alone.
I dragged up a chair—I still wasn't steady enough on my feet to stand for what might be hours waiting for him—and sat down facing the bolted door.
Sooner or later someone would come. And I would be ready.
It was a long time before I heard a tiny metallic rasp from the door. Someone was stealthily fumbling to draw the bolt back. Finally the door began, very slowly, to open inward.
I leaped, grabbed the hand that had just begun to steal inward and jerked hard—and felt the delicate wrist too late to arrest the force of the swing. Marjorie skidded inside, gasping, slammed against the door-frame. I dropped her wrist as if it was burned. She staggered and I held her quickly upright.
“Quick,” she whispered, “shut the door!”
“Gods defend us,” I whispered, staring in horror at her. “I could have killed you!”
“I'm glad you're able—” She drew a quick gasp. “Lew, your face! Oh God . . .”
“The loving attention of my kinsmen.” I shut the door, shoved the heavy chair up against it.
“I begged them—I begged them—”
I laid my arms around her. “Poor love, I know, I heard you. Did they hurt you?”
“No, even Beltran didn't hurt me, though I scratched and bit him.” She said, her voice coming in gasps, “I have your matrix for you. Here, quick.” She held the small leather bag out to me. I thrust it inside my tunic, next to my skin. It seemed that my vision cleared at once, the dull ringing inside my head quieted. Even my heart beat more solidly. I was still battered and aching from the terrible beating I had taken, but I felt alive again. “How did you get it?”
“Bob made me take it,” she said. “He said I was Keeper, only I could handle it without hurting you. He said you'd die otherwise. So I took it. Lew, only to save you. I swear it—”
“I know. If anyone but a Keeper had kept it long, I would certainly have died.” Not that I credited Kadarin with that much kindness for my well-being. He probably knew what too much handling of someone else's keyed matrix would do to
him
.
“Where is the Sharra matrix?”
“Thyra has it, I think,” she said doubtfully. “I'm not sure.”
“How did you get in here, Marjorie? Are there guards watching me?”
She nodded slowly. “All the guards know me,” she said at last. “Most of them were my father's friends and have known me since they held me on their knees. They trust me . . . and I brought them drugged wine. I'm ashamed of that, Lew, but what else could I do? But we must get away at once, as quickly as we can. When they wake up they will know, and tell Beltran . . .” Her voice failed.
“He should thank you for saving the small remnant of his honor,” I said grimly. Then I realized she had said “we.”
“You will come with me?”
“I must, I dare not stay after what I have done. Lew, don't you
want
me? Do you think I had any part in . . .
oh
!”
I held her tight. “Can you doubt it? But in these mountains, at this season—”
“I was born in these mountains; I've traveled in worse weather than this.”
“We must be gone, then, before the guards wake. What did you give them?”
She told me and I shook my head. “No good. They'll wake within the hour. But maybe I can do better now.” I touched the matrix. “Let's go.” Hastily I gathered my things together. She had dressed warmly, I saw, heavy boots, a long riding-skirt. I looked out the windows. It was nightfall, but by some god's mercy it was not snowing.
In the dim hallway two figures sprawled in sodden, snoring sleep. I bent and listened to their breathing. Marjorie gasped, “Don't kill them, Lew. They've done you no harm!”
I wasn't so sure. My ribs still ached from the weight of somebody's boots. “I can do better than killing them,” I said, cradling the matrix between my palms. Swiftly, incisively, I drew into the minds of the drugged men.
Sleep, I commanded, sleep long and well, sleep till the rising sun wakes you. Marjorie never came here, you drank no wine, drugged or wholesome.
The poor devils would have to answer to Beltran for sleeping at their post. But I'd done what I could.
I tiptoed down the corridor, Marjorie hugging the wall behind me. Outside the great guest suite were two more drugged guards; Marjorie had been thorough. I stooped over them, sent them, too, more deeply into their dreams.
My hands are strong. I made shorter work of the bolts than Marjorie had done. Briefly I wondered at the kind of hospitality that puts a bolt on the outside of a guest room door for any contingency. As I stepped inside, Danilo quickly stepped between me and Regis. Then he recognized me and fell back.
Regis said, “I thought they'd killed you—” His eyes fell on my face. “It looks as if they'd tried! How did you get out?”
“Never mind,” I said. “Get on your riding-things, unless you love Aldaran's hospitality too well to leave it!”
Regis said, “They came and took away my sword, and Danilo's dagger.” For some reason the loss of the dagger seemed to grieve him most. I had no time to wonder why. I went and hauled at the senseless guardsmen's sword-belts, gave one to Regis, belted the other around my own waist. It was too long for me, but better than nothing. I gave the daggers to Marjorie and Danilo. “I have repaid my kinsman's theft,” I said, “now let's get out of here.”
“Where shall we go?”
I had made my decision swiftly. “I'll take Marjorie to Arilinn,” I said. “You two just get away as fast and far as you can, before all hell breaks loose.”
Regis nodded. “We'll take the straight road to Thendara, and get the word to Comyn.”
Danilo said, “Shouldn't we all stay together?”
“No, Dani. One of us may get through if the others are recaptured, and the Comyn must be warned, whatever happens. There is an out-of-control, unmonitored matrix being used here. Tell them that, if I cannot!” Then I hesitated. “Regis, don't take the straight road! It's suicide! It's the first place they'll look!”
“Then maybe I can draw pursuit away from you,” he said. “Anyway, it's you and Marjorie they'll be after. Danilo and I are nothing to them.”
I wasn't so sure. Then I saw what I could not mistake. I said, “No. We cannot separate while I send you on the route of danger. You are ill.” Threshold sickness, I finally realized. “I cannot send the heir to Hastur into such danger!”
“Lew, we
must
separate.” He looked straight up into my eyes. “Someone
must
get through to warn the Comyn.”
What he said was true and I knew it. “Can you endure the journey?” I asked.
Danilo said, “I'll look after him, and anyway he's better off on the road than in Beltran's hands, especially once you've escaped.” This was true also and I knew it. Danilo was quickly separating the contents of Regis' saddlebags, discarding nearly everything. “We've got to travel light. There's food here from Regis' journey north . . .” He quickly divided it, rolling meat and fruit, hard bread, into two small parcels. He handed the larger one to me and said, “You'll be on the back roads, further away from villages.”
I stuffed it into the inside pocket of my riding cloak and looked at Marjorie. “Can we get out unseen?”
“That's easy enough, word won't have reached the stables. We'll get horses, too.”
Marjorie led us out a small side door near the stables. Most of the stablemen were sleeping; she roused one old man who knew her as Kermiac's ward. It was eccentric, perhaps, for her to set forth at nightfall with some of Beltran's honored guests, but it wasn't for an old horse-keeper to question. Most of them had seen me with her and had heard the castle gossip that a marriage was being arranged. If he had heard of the quarrel, this would have accounted for it in his mind, that Marjorie and I had run away to marry against Beltran's will. I'm sure this accounted for the looks of sympathy the old groom gave us. He found mounts for us all. I thought tardily of the escort from Comyn, who had come here with me.
I could order them to go with Regis and Danilo, protect them. But that would make a stir. Marjorie said softly, “If they don't know where you've gone, they cannot be made to tell,” and that decided me.
If we rode hard till morning, and Beltran's guards slept as I had insured they would, we might be beyond pursuit. We led our horses toward the gates; the groom let us out. I lifted Marjorie to her saddle, readied myself to mount. She looked back with a faint sadness but, seeing me watching, she smiled bravely and turned her face to the road.
I turned to Regis, holding him for a moment in a kinsman's embrace. Would I ever see him again? I thought I had turned my back on Comyn, yet the tie was stronger than I knew. I had thought him a child, easily flattered, easily swayed. No. Less so than I was myself. I told myself firmly not to be morbid, and kissed him on the cheek, letting him go. “The Gods ride with you,
bredu
.” I said, turning away. His hand clung to my arm for a moment, and in a split second I saw, for the last time, the frightened child I had taken into the fire-lines; he remembered, too, but the very memory of conquered fear strengthened us both. Still, I could not forget that he had been placed in my charge. I said hesitantly, “I am not sure . . . I do not like letting you take the road of most danger, Regis.”
He gripped my forearms with both hands and looked straight into my eyes. He said fiercely, “Lew, you too are the heir to your Domain! And I have an heir, you don't!
If it comes to that, better me than you!” I was shocked speechless by the words. Yet they were true. My father was old and ill; Marius, so far as we knew, was without
laran
.
I was the last male Alton. And it had taken Regis to remind me!
This was a man, a Hastur. I bowed my head in acquiescence, knowing we stood at that moment before something older, more powerful than either of us. Regis drew a long breath, let go of my hands, and said, “We'll meet in Thendara, if the Gods will it, cousin.”
“I knew my voice was shaking. I said, “Take care of him, Dani.”
He answered, “With my life, Dom Lewis,” as they swung into their saddles. Without a backward glance, Regis rode away down the path, Danilo a pace behind him.
I mounted, taking the opposite fork of the road, Marjorie at my side. I thanked all the gods I had ever heard of, and all the rest I hadn't, for the time I had spent with maps on my northward journey. It was a long way to Arilinn, through some of the worst country on Darkover, and I wondered if Marjorie could endure it.
Overhead two of the moons swung, violet-blue, green-blue, shedding soft light on the snow-clad hills. We rode for hours in that soft night light. I was wholly aware of Marjorie: her grief and regret at leaving her childhood home, the desperation which had driven her to this. She must never regret it! I pledged my own life that she should not regret.
BOOK: Heritage and Exile
6.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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