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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

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BOOK: The Shadow Matrix
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to hide in the entry until she left. Instead, he bit back his irritation. It was too beautiful

a morning to waste indoors. He sighed as a groom led a horse out of the stables for her,

a little dun mare with white fetlocks. There was a side-saddle perched on the horse's

back, and as he approached, the groom helped her up into it.

Gisela settled herself into place, saw him, and gave him one of her sparkling glances.

He had been pursued by women most of his life, but none, he decided, was more

determined than this one. Mikhail's heart sank into his sturdy boots; there was no way

to avoid accompanying her now.

He paused and studied her for a moment, trying to delay the inevitable. Gisela was

wearing a heavy woolen garment of darkest green, and a small and impractical hat with

a hawk's feather in it, rose kid gloves so thin they were almost a second skin, and

riding boots in the blue favored in the Hellers and the Dry Towns: She made a very

fetching picture, he admitted, but the blue boots clashed with the

green of her riding clothes. And the -gloves on her hands reminded him of

Marguerida's, always clad in silken mitts, even when they caressed the strings of her

harp. It made his blood run hot to think about those hands, and he forced himself to

shut away the extremely erotic images.

"I see I am not the only one ready for a ride," she said, smiling at him. "Another day of

listening to Rakhal prattle and I should have gone mad."

Mikhail quelled his rising annoyance, and only said, "Good morning, Gisela."

. At that moment the morning sun touched her, gilding her form with radiance. She

looked every inch a lady, commanding and sure of her place. She really was a most

attractive woman, and he liked her, but she did not move his heart at all. That belonged

to a pair of golden eyes, not green ones. Mikhail signaled the groom, and the man

vanished into the darkness of the stables to saddle his big bay.

"Yes, it is a good morning! Just smell the air! There isn't a hint of snow in it for the

moment!" She seemed very happy, more carefree than she had been recently. There

was a confidence in her posture that had not been present, before, and he had a mild

frisson of unease.

"Then you will be able to go to the Medical Center and" see how your son is faring,

won't you?"

Gisela gazed down at him with utter incomprehension, as if he had just suggested that

she ride naked through the streets of the city. Then she recovered herself slightly. "Uh,

yes, of course. Not today, though. Tomorrow perhaps. We might go together?"

Before Mikhail could reply, there was a flutter of wings and the now familiar caw of

his avian friend. The sea crow alighted on Mikhail's shoulder, and began to offer the

noises that he thought of as birdly gossip. Mikhail had taken to keeping a window in

his bedroom open a bit, and the crow had visited him there several times, always

announcing himself with similar sounds. It made his room chilly, but Mikhail found he

was actually fond of the crow, and flattered by its attention and devotion.

The bird shifted from foot to foot, fluttered its wings, and looked at him with great red

eyes. Mikhail extended his arm carefully, and the crow scooted down until it stood on

his wrist as a hawk might. "Have they been treating you

well?" he asked the bird. He got a rough reply and decided that the crow found the

pickings in Thendara to its taste.

"Aren't you afraid it will peck your eyes?" Gisela asked him, sounding a little uneasy.

"No, I am not." Mikhail could hear the impatience in his voice, and wished he had

better control. More,- Mikhail felt that he was in an intolerable situation, and he

resented it deeply. By the time the groom finally brought out his horse, his good mood

was gone, and he mounted with an angry jerk. The sea .crow squawked in protest, flew

away, circled, and returned to settle on the pommel once he was mounted.

"It is going to come with us?" Gisela asked. Her green eyes were a little wide, and her

sultry voice was higher than usual.

"Oh, yes. It seems to like my company. I leave a window open in my room when the

wind is not blowing too much, and it comes and tells me things. I do wish I spoke bird,

for I am sure he knows all the secrets of Thendara by now." He turned his horse's head

and started for the street.

Gisela drew abreast of him, eyeing the crow with distaste. "It does not seem a proper

bird for a lord, or a future king," she commented dryly. Mikhail looked at her, feeling

uneasy at her tone, and then they rode in silence for a time. The narrow streets of

Thendara had been cleared of snow by householders and merchants, though there was

a little ice in places. They rode through a pleasant bustle of activity, as shutters were

flung open and merchandise brought out. He heard voices, gossiping and bargaining, a

comforting racket, so different from the undercurrents at the Castle. A few people

watched the riders curiously, and at least two waved, recognizing Mikhail.

"You do not seem very much like the man who came to us all those years ago, Mik."

"Don't I? In what way do you find me different?"

"You were never aloof with me then." She sounded as if she were deeply puzzled, and

a little hurt.

"Forgive me if I have seemed distant, Giz. I have had a great deal on my mind

recently."

"Oh, pooh! That is what people say when they do not wish to be honest. Don't you like

me any longer?"

"Certainly I like you! What a silly thing to say!" It was

true and untrue at the same time, he decided. He found Gisela Aldaran a charming

companion, for she was quickwitted and frequently bawdy. But there were so many

things he could not say, all lying thickly on his silent tongue, bitter and revolting.

Instead of concentrating on his feelings of ill-usage, he thought about her comment.

Was he different? Mikhail did not feel himself to be so, but he knew that other people

he was close to were different than they had been ten years before. Did he see them

with new eyes, or were they actually changed? Marguerida insisted that Lew was quite

an altered man from the one she had known as a child, and he felt the same way, to a

lesser degree, about both Regis and Javanne.
Dom
Gabriel, on the other hand, seemed

the same as before, perhaps a little more crochety and given to temper.

But if he had changed, what had caused it? In one way Mikhail felt that his entire life

had been fairly ordinary— unless he counted the events at Halyn House, or following

Marguerida into the overworld on two occasions. Except for getting married, for the

most part he had done what had been expected of him.

Marguerida said he had a curious mind, contrasting him to his father, whom she

dismissed as having a closed one. Maybe that was it. He was interested in many things,

from why the Terranan did things the way they did, to how Darkover might use

technology without losing its singular identity. Perhaps it had been mucking out the

Halyn House stables that had made him different. It had certainly given him a fresh

respect for all the folk who labored in the fields and crofts, and enabled him to live a

life of ease.

Gisela leaned out of the saddle and extended a hand as if to take his wrist. She had an

expression on her face which he found too intimate. The crow took immediate

exception to her movement, flaring its wings, and poking its sharp bill at her. The

woman yelped and snatched her hand back, nearly overbalancing in the side-saddle.

She regained her seat and glared at both the man and the bird. "Mik, that crow is a

disgusting creature. They are birds of ill-omen, you know! Send it away!"

"I know the crows in the Hellers are thought to be such, but I am surprised to hear such

silly superstitions from you.

You have a good mind, and are educated. Besides, this is a sea crow, and that is quite a

different matter." Mikhail had never been so grateful for a chaperon in his life. As long

as they could keep discussing the bird, they would not be able to talk about more

serious things. "This fine fellow greeted me when I arrived at Halyn House, probably

saved me from a hard knock on the head at the quintain, and has chosen to accompany

me far from its natural home. I am sure he must be the king of his kind, and that some

upstart crow has now taken his position."

Almost as if it understood these words, the crow made a rough comment. He gave

Mikhail a beady glare, as if to say, "I will deal with any interloper." It was serious and

comical all at the same time, and Mikhail chuckled, his earlier mood restored.

They had ridden to the gate of the North Road now, and found it abustle with early

morning traffic. There were many carts coming into the city with loads of straw, grain,

root vegetables, and cages full of plump fowl. He spotted a Travelers wagon, gaily

painted and accompanied by garishly dressed folk. There were pictures of puppets on

its sides, and Mikhail grinned. It had been some time since he had seen one of the

shows.

The Travelers were dressed in motley colors, their clothing torn to reveal underlayers,

a very distinctive form of dress. They came to Thendara during the Midsummer and

Midwinter Festivals, and the rest of the time they drove around the countryside,

offering their entertainments in the smaller cities, and at places like Armida. His father

did not approve of them, saying quite truthfully, that they were not respectable folk.

But Mikhail found their little plays, which satirized lord and farmer with equal

generosity, very amusing.

He had wondered about them a few times, since they were a relatively recent

development. When he had been a lad, all entertainers were local folk, and then, when

he had been eight or nine, if he remembered rightly, he had seen the first painted

wagon full of these cheerful people, arrive at Comyn Castle one summer day. It was

soon after the World Wreckers, and they had been greeted—like all strangers—with

suspicion. But they seemed harmless

enough, and he really enjoyed their acrobatics, juggling, and the totally irreverent

comedies they performed.

Mikhail wondered if Marguerida knew about the Travelers, and made a mental note to

tell her about them. She would be very interested, as she seemed to be in all things. He

was so deep in his thoughts that he nearly forgot about Gisela, who had been silent

since the crow startled her. Mikhail noticed a train of heavily laden mules accompanied

by some Dry Towners and a quartet of Renunciate guides, struggling to get through the

jam of carts and animals that cluttered the road. Then he returned to the present, seeing

a very familiar profile, a flutter of copper-colored curls under a knitted cap, a short,

upturned nose, and a firm jaw.

"Rafaella n'ha Liriel!" He shouted across the noise of the throng, and she looked up,

then smiled at him.

"Dom
Mikhail!" She rode toward him, her smile increasing. "Well met! What a lovely

surprise. I did not know you had come back to Thendara—but then I have been off in

the west for the past month." She drew abreast of him, reined her horse to a halt, and

patted its neck.

"It is wonderful to see you, Rafaella. How long has it been?"

"Oh, ages and ages. I have been more busy this season than I was in the last three

years, dashing her* and there with merchants, who all seem determined to come to

Thendara or depart it at the same moment. My, what a handsome bird!" She chuckled.

"I must say, you make a very odd appearance, with a crow on your pommel. Are you

getting eccentric?"

Gisela cleared her throat in a very ladylike but determined way, and Mikhail felt his

cheeks begin to warm with blush. He was so eager to see Rafaella that he had ignored

her. "Not that, I trust, but I do seem to be forgetting my manners. Blame it on such a

lovely morning! Much too lovely for formalities. Rafaella, this is the
Domna
Gisela

Aldaran. Gisela, my friend, Rafaella n'ha Liriel."

"A pleasure,
domna."
The Renunciate bobbed her head a little, but the expression on

her face spoke volumes. He was very grateful that Marguerida's friend was so discreet,

and gave her a little smile.

"The pleasure is mine," Gisela responded, not sounding at all pleased.

He could see the question in Rafaella's eyes. But he said nothing. Still, he felt very

embarrassed, as if he had been caught doing something naughty, and he wished Gisela

to one of the lesser of Zandru's hells. Why were things so complicated? Why hadn't

Gisela remained indoors and let him ride in peace? Mikhail began to feel very put upon

and aggrieved, but it was such a ridiculous feeling that after a second he let it go.

"Did Marguerida tell you about, the bandits?" Rafaella asked, quite unaware of the

strain between Gisela and Mikhail.

"Bandits?"

"Ah, she didn't." For a moment, Rafaella's face looked perturbed, then slightly

embarrassed, for her pale cheeks reddened. "I expect she thought you would worry,

BOOK: The Shadow Matrix
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