The Shadow Matrix (57 page)

Aldaran had just come into the doorway, wearing the great kilt his Domain

occasionally displayed, draped around his ample middle, and over his shoulder. He had

a sporran hanging from a thick belt, a white-and-black pouch made of fur, and had a

sword

dangling from his left hip. All in all, the appearance was rather more martial than

seemed fitting for the holiday.

Dom
Damon smiled at Mikhail, a baring of teeth that held very little real welcome, and

nodded at the children who were on either side of him. He ran his pale eyes up and

down Mikhail's form, and quirked a bushy eyebrow. "That is a fetching tunic, Mikhail,

but I'll wager it will be itchy before the night is over."

"I think you are likely right," he agreed. The room was very warm already, and the

more people who pressed into it, the hotter it would become.

"That's why I favor this—no needlework to catch on every little thing. Now, you,

young woman, are a lovely sight. I think embroidery belongs on women, not men—

and that dress is very becoming."

Valenta gave
Dom
Damon an unreadable look, as if she suspected he was trying to

tease her, and made a nice curtsy. She was wearing a rose-colored silk gown,

embroidered with silver. Her pale skin looked healthy, and it was clear that she was

pleased with herself. "Thank you,
Dom
Damon." She managed to simper, while giving

Mikhail an ironic glance.

Then Mikhail saw Marguerida and Lew Alton come in behind Lord Aldaran. He could

just make out the shorter form of Ida Davidson beside her, but he barely noticed. His

heart leaped in his chest. It was all he could do not to gasp, and he saw from the slight

twinkle in her golden eyes, he knew his beloved was perfectly aware of the effect she

was having, and enjoying every second of it.

Mikhail took in the line of the gown, so close to her slender body that it was nearly

immodest, though the soft folds of the overgown did a reasonable job of concealing the

fact. He took in the silken mitts on her hands, and the soft, violet slippers on her feet,

and decided she had never been more beautiful.

Dom
Damon, aware that he was no longer the center of attention, turned as well,

looked at Marguerida. and her father, and made a brief grunting sound that might have

meant anything. Then he swiveled his head back to look at Mikhail, and there was no

mistaking the slight glare in his eyes.

Mikhail ignored the older man, slipped past him, and

bowed before his cousin. "You look wonderful, Marguer-ida. Dani and Mira have gone

to tell the musicians to play a
pafan,
so perhaps we can stand up in it together."

Oh, dear. I will probably make a total fool of myself, Mik. I cannot dance at all well.

Nonsense. You are as graceful as a breeze, and you will have the best partner in all of

Thendara, except Danilo Ar-dais. Here
—
this is the pattern, and all you need to do is

memorize it, and listen to the music. That, I know, will be easy, for you.

Ah, I see. Now, why didn't anyone ever show me dancing like that before? You've made

it as clear as glass. Now, if
Dom
Aldaran will just stop looking as if he' wants to

throttle me.

To the devil with Damon Aldaran!

I could not agree more.

Calmly, she placed the fingers of her right hand in Mikhail's though he could feel the

pulse of her blood beating in her body, then gave
Dom
Damon a look that made the

older man turn away. Beside her, he could sense Lew trying very hard not to burst into

laughter, while Ida Davidson looked at them with interest. He wondered how much

Marguerida had told her, and if she knew there were telepaths in the room.

They make such a wonderful couple, so perfect together. Just as Ivor and I were, years

ago. I don't quite understand what Maggie said, about there being some problem,

because one would have to be a total fool not to know they were completely in love.

This world is very confusing, and there is something . . . why can't I put my finger on

it? Undercurrents, of course, but there are always those. Oh, dear . . . that must be

Gisela Aldaran, looking ready to kill. I am very glad Maggie has told me of some of

the people I'll meet here, and a little of their backgrounds.
Ida's disordered thoughts

gave Mikhail a moment's warning. By the time Gisela reached them, he was prepared

for anything.

Or so he imagined, until Gisela Aldaran stopped and looked Marguerida over, as if she

were a dairy animal which had somehow wandered into the castle. Her eyes raked

Marguerida from head to toe, narrowing dangerously. Then she curled her lip and said

in mildly accented Terran, "What a remarkable ensemble. I would never have

the courage to appear in something so outré." Her voice was silky.

Mikhail was aware that Lew and Ida had both overheard this remark, and were ready

to leap to Marguerida's defense. Before they could, she answered, "No, of course you

wouldn't," in her calmest and most dignified voice, making it sound as if Gisela was

not a very brave person.

Back off, bitch!

For a second Mikhail was shocked, for he had never suspected Marguerida of being so

vehement. Then he realized that it was not her thought he had heard, that the tone was

different. He glanced at Ida, for it was certainly a female, but it was not Ida either.

Then he realized it was Valenta who had nearly shouted the thought, and he turned a

curious look on the small girl.

Gisela, as well, was startled, and her cheeks flushed an unlovely red that did not suit

her. She trembled a little, making the silver lace across her bosom move in her

agitation. In a moment she had recovered herself, and glared at Valenta. In turn, the girl

grinned shamelessly, her eyes alight with deliberate mischief.

As the musicians began to play the introduction to a familiar
pafan,
people started to

form up in the long lines of the dance. Mikhail drew Marguerida away. He led her to a

place halfway down the set, where he found himself buttressed on one side by young

Dani and Mira Elhalyn, and on the other by Dyan Ardais and Darissa d'Asturien. He

found he was holding his breath, and let it out. If Gisela's behavior was any indication,

the evening would be very long, indeed.

Mikhail saw Robert Aldaran stroll over to his sister, and say something. Never in his

life had Mikhail wanted to eavesdrop more than at that moment. But Robert took her

arm and led her to the top of the set, and the first phrase of the music started the actual

dance in motion. It was a slow work, with a small tambour keeping the steady beat,

while fiols tossed the theme back and forth from one side of the small orchestra to the

other.

The dancers faced each other across the lines, bowed or curtsied, then moved to the

center to join hands and march four paces toward the gallery. Then there was a dip of

knees, and another four paces, followed by a clasping of

hands and a circling of each couple, which ended by placing the men on the opposite

side of the line from where they had begun.

They rejoined in the center, and repeated the movements in the opposite direction, their

backs now to the musicians. It was soothing and uncomplicated, as they changed sides

again, weaving back and forth. The slowness of the rhythm was pleasant, and after a

few times, he saw that Marguerida was actually beginning to enjoy herself.

See, I told you it was easy.

You were right. I still feel clumsy, but at least I am not embarrassing myself
—
or you.

No, I think you are magnificent—but I am a besotted idiot, and have absolutely no

objectivity.!

At last, the music ended-, and the dance ceased. Mikhail placed Marguerida's hand

lightly on his arm and led her to the refreshment table. "We both need some wine, I

think."

"Oh, yes. I am really thirsty." She lifted a mitted hand and brushed a wisp of fine, curly

red hair off her forehead. "And wishing Gisela Aldaran on the moon, too, though I

shouldn't. Why can't she understand that ..."

"She told me she had foreseen herself married to a Hastur, and knew it must be me."

"Oh. You mean she has the Aldaran Gift?"

"So she has hinted, but I think a very active imagination is more likely. She never

showed a hint of it when I visited the Aldarans years ago."

"Tell me, Mik, are there any other females in your past that you have not told me

about. Not that I am jealous, but I want to be prepared." '

He picked up two glasses of wine and handed one to Marguerida. Then he looked

around the room, at people chatting, as another dance was formed up. "I would say that

there were a dozen women in this room right now who had been offered for my

possible approval. Over there, the lady in the puce gown, that is Ysabet MacRoss, the

great niece of Camilla MacRoss at Arilinn, who is very pleasant and extremely dull.

She found me confusing, I believe. She's married to MacGowan now, and I think he

suits her very well. And that lovely woman in pink is Darissa d’Asturien, now safely

wed to one of her second cousins. She's

always been something of a flirt. But there is no one for me except you."

"A pity that your parents do not see it that way. Oh, look. Here are Rafaella and Uncle

Rafe. Do you know, I have never seen them together before, and hadn't realized what a

handsome couple they make. And I have never seen him wear anything except his

uniform."

Mikhail followed her gaze to the doorway, where Rafaella n'ha Liriel and Captain Rafe

Scott had just entered. The sudden appearance of a Renunciate in the ballroom,

unmistakable with her short-cut hair, caused a subtle stir. From the way her freckles

stood out on her pale skin, Rafaella was not unaware of the raised eyebrows she was

receiving. She gave Scott a sidelong glance, and Mikhail could see her swallow hard to

gather her courage.

But he agreed that they made a good looking couple, both dressed in green, Rafaella in

a pale, spring tone, with silver leaves everywhere, and Scott in a dark tunic with a

modest amount of embroidery on it. And except for her clipped hair, there was nothing

out of the ordinary about the woman. With her fiery tresses, she might have been

mistaken for a daughter of the Domains.

"Poor Rafi! She looks as if she is going to faint from terror. I think she needs some

wine, Mik." With these words, Marguerida took another glass off the table, and started

across the room, skirting the dancers gracefully. Mikhail thought that Rafe Scott could

also stand some refreshment, so he took a second glass, and followed her across the

floor.

The relief on Rafaella's face, when she saw Marguerida approaching her, would have

been comical under any other circumstances. Mikhail knew she was probably

regretting coming, and decided he must try to put her at ease.

"You look lovely, Rafi!" Marguerida said, handing her the glass of wine.

"Do I? I feel very odd, for while I have attended any number of dances in my life, I

have never been in quite such company before. Several of the ladies are looking at me

as if I were a spook."

"Here, Scott, some courage in a glass!"

"I am forever in your debt, Mikhail. I had quite forgotten how beautiful this room was,

for I haven't been in it in

years. It looks as if the murals have been retouched, too. At least, I do not recall the

colors being so bright." He took the offered wine and drained half the glass in one

swallow. Then he smiled at his niece. "That is a wonderful gown, Mar]a—excuse me,

Marguerida. I suspect you will set a new fashion in Thendara, and when you are an old

woman with grandchildren, they will be wearing something like it at Neskaya or

Dalereuth, and thinking it all the rage. Things here change so slowly." He seemed sad

and slightly worried.

"Thank you, Uncle. I like it myself, though when I got dressed, I thought I was seeing

someone else. This doesn't go with Margaret Alton, Fellow of University, nor with

Marguerida, student at Neskaya."

"But it is perfect for the heiress of a Domain,
chiya."

"Maybe. But sometimes I think that that is a suit of clothing' I will never fit into." She

cleared her throat and changed the subject. "I saw young Ethan a few days ago, when I

was at Aaron's shop, and he seems to find his studies at HQ very challenging."

'Scott let out a brief groan. "That boy! He asks more questions than I can answer, and

he makes me feel old. But I am glad you sent him to me, because he is going to be a

fine spaceman, always assuming that—"

"What?" Mikhail interrupted sharply.

"I can't say, or at least I shouldn't."
Things at HQ are becoming less and less friendly,

what with the Federation issuing new orders every hour on the hour, new forms and

passes. It is a bureaucrat's erotic dream, but for the rest of us, it is a nightmare.

Perhaps I am borrowing trouble
—
the interest on which is always ruinous
—
and it will