Traitor's Sun

  that was potentially deadly, and one which was so rare that it was difficult to

  limit. She had a hot temper, as well, which made her extremely dangerous. He

  worried more about his niece than he ever did about his own children, for her

  quicksilver disposition reminded him rather too much of some of the Elhalyn

  children, Vincent in particular. She had some of the same egotism, but none of

  the bullying tendencies of that now deceased man.

  Mikhail watched Nico smile at Alanna, brightening as he always did around his

  difficult cousin and foster-sister. Eight months separated them in age, and she

  had lived in Comyn Castle since she was five. They were, together, more like

  twins than otherwise, and had an uncanny ability to either cheer one another up,

  or send each other into foul moods that no one else could understand. Tonight

  she seemed to be on her best behavior, despite the general air of sorrow that

  was everywhere. He thanked the gods for that favor, and turned toward the

  doorway of the dining room.

  Herm and his family came into the room, and Mikhail put everything else out of

  his mind. Behind him, Donal came to attention, alert in every muscle, examining

  the newcomers with a very jaundiced eye, much too suspicious for such a young

  man. Mikhail held back a sigh, for like himself, Donal had never really had a

  childhood. He knew he had made the right decision for himself, taking his young

  relative for paxman, but he was not as sure that he had made the best choice for

  Donal.

  Mikhail studied Hermes Aldaran, trying to fit the image of the man before him

  with his memories of a much younger person he had known briefly over twenty

  years before. He had much less hair on the top of his head, and a softness above

  his belt that spoke of little physical activity. There were interesting wrinkles

  around his eyes, and the mouth almost hidden in his curling beard was generous,

  made for laughter. But there was no merriment in his face now, just a sort of

  tension, as if he were uncertain of his welcome.

  Beside him stood a very attractive woman, with black hair and, as Lew had

  mentioned, a square and stubborn jaw. Two children stood next to her. The boy,

  who looked about thirteen, had gray eyes that went immediately to Alanna with

  interest and admiration, and the girl, who might be nine or ten, seemed a little

  bashful in the presence of so many strangers. Lew was right-the girl looked like

  an Aldaran and could have easily been mistaken for a child of either

  Marguerida's or Gisela's.

  They were dressed in Federation garb, which looked outr‚ and exotic to Mikhail.

  The girl, Ter‚se, wore a brief skirt of some shiny stuff, and her still gawky

  limbs were covered in stockings of a woven material with a vivid pattern in it.

  Her mother wore a close-fitting gown of dark red velvet, cut low over the

  shoulders, and clinging across her bosom. The lower portion of the dress dropped

  from knee length in the front to floor length at the back, showing off elegant

  calves and feet clad in shiny shoes. Her obviously long black hair was

  elaborately braided and coiled behind her head, decently concealing her nape,

  and long metal earrings dangled beside her graceful throat. Herm and the boy

  wore jackets that ended abruptly at the waist, over pleated shirts and narrow

  trousers that looked rather uncomfortable to Mikhail. All in all, it was a

  bizarre presentation, and he had to school himself not to stare at Katherine's

  legs.

  Katherine glanced at Marguerida, then at Alanna and Yllana. Her face clouded

  with dismay for a moment, and when he saw Gisela and his brother Rafael come

  through the door behind her, he realized that his ever mischievous sister-in-law

  had been up to one of her tricks. She had probably told Katherine to wear these

  clothes. Still, as he watched, he saw the woman's face become composed, her

  spine stiffening a little in the lovely but unsuitable gown. She had been a

  Senator's wife for over a decade now, and could probably handle herself in

  situations he could not even imagine.

  Oh, dear-she is upset, Mik.

  Anyone can see that, caria.

  Gisela offered to look after her, and I just assumed she would tell Katherine

  what sort of dress was appropriate. I was so tired that 1 could not think

  straight! I know it doesn't matter to you, but we women take these matters very

  seriously. Damn!!

  My darling optimist! After all these years, you should know better than to trust

  Giz. Katherine has very nice legs, don't you think?

  Should I be jealous?

  Never, my dearest, never.

  Herm cleared his throat. "Hello, Mikhail. It has been a long time, hasn't it? I

  would like to present my wife, Katherine Korniel Aldaran, and our children,

  Amaury and Ter‚se."

  "Welcome to Comyn Castle. I only wish your arrival had been a little less

  hectic, and I apologize for not coming to meet you earlier. I was sent to bed,

  frankly, although thankfully not without my supper." Mikhail exerted himself to

  be friendly, hoping to ease the awkwardness away.

  "Korniel? Are you by chance related to the composer of that name?" Marguerida

  wondered.

  "He was my great-uncle," Katherine answered.

  Marguerida repressed her lively interest, her eyes almost sparkling, and stepped

  forward with both her mitted hands outstretched in greeting. "Where are my

  manners! How are you, after your long journey?" She paused for a moment, waited

  for Herm to speak, then when he did not, went on. "Domna Katherine, this is my

  husband, Mikhail Hastur, and my children, Domenic, Rory, and Yllana. Yllana, why

  don't you take Ter‚se and get her a glass of berry juice? Or watered wine, if

  you do not mind, Katherine?"

  "I think a little watered wine would not be a bad thing-not too much, Ter‚se,"

  Katherine answered in a deep alto voice that was heavy with tension.

  Over her shoulder, Mikhail could read the faint disappointment in Gisela's

  expression. She was plumper now than when she had been a girl, her waist

  thickened with child-bearing as Marguerida's had failed to do, and her face had

  lost some of its earlier winsomeness. He gave her a stern look, and she had the

  grace to redden a little. Katherine caught his expression, and her eyes widened

  in surprise, apparently thinking he was glaring at her. Then she looked quickly

  over her shoulder, saw Gisela's blush, and turned back toward him with a

  splendid smile.

  Yllana's pale blue eyes twinkled, and she gave the other girl a quick grin.

  Ter‚se answered with a relieved smile, as if she were very glad to remove

  herself from the orbit of her parents, and to be in the company of someone her

  own age. The two girls slipped across the room as if they had known each other

  for days instead of moments, and Mikhail sensed that Yllana was pleased to be

  out of earshot of any adults.

  Roderick made a decent bow in front of Katherine, his eyes sparkling with

  mischief. "Come on, Amaury-the grown-ups don't need us underfoot. Nico and I

  will be glad to answer your questions, and I'll wager you have a lot of them."

  Amaury glanced at his parents, then started to follow Rory toward the fire
place.

  "I have one-who is that girl watching us from over there?" Mikhail heard him

  ask.

  "Oh, that's just Alanna," Roderick replied. "She is our cousin and our

  foster-sister." Then he passed out of earshot, and Mikhail glanced over his

  shoulder at his foster-daughter. She should have been beside them, to be

  introduced. Oh, well, the children would make their own way. Then Mikhail turned

  back to Herm and Katherine. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

  "Have you begun to recover from your journey?" Mikhail asked.

  "We have caught up on our sleep, and enjoyed eating real food." Katherine spoke

  in casta easily, but her accent was unfamiliar. She rounded the vowel sounds

  more than was normal, and in her mouth, the language sounded unusually musical.

  "We offer our condolences, Dom Mikhail, on the death of your uncle."

  "Thank you, domna. It has been a great shock and a terrible loss for all of us."

  He paused, feeling this formal response was a bit cold. "I cannot really believe

  it, yet. It all seems like a nightmare from which I cannot manage to awaken."

  "Of course it is! If I understand what Gisela told me, there was no warning, no

  signs of illness or anything."

  "Nothing whatever," he answered, moved by her immediate understanding.

  "That makes it all the harder to bear."

  A silence fell heavily among the four of them then, as if no one could think of

  what to say. Finally Marguerida stepped into the breach. "I am sorry that that I

  could not greet you upon your arrival, but things are in such a state. And I am

  sincerely happy that you are here, and hope that you find Darkover to your

  liking." She paused and the shadow of a smile graced her lips. "It might take

  some getting used to for you," she continued, as a servant appeared with a tray

  of wineglasses. She took one and offered it to Katherine, who gave her a

  speculative look, as if she suspected there might be some hidden meaning in the

  last words. Donal picked one up and handed it to Mikhail. Herm helped himself,

  looking more at ease now. "I can remember my own difficulties, when I came back

  sixteen years ago," she added, smiling and shaking her head at the vivid

  memories at the same time.

  Gisela and Rafael moved forward, and from the petulant expression on her face,

  Mikhail suspected that his brother was giving her a telepathic lecture that she

  was not enjoying. He had a stab of guilt, that Rafael had ended up with this

  difficult woman, but he knew that his steady, older sibling genuinely cared for

  her. At the same time, he was sincerely glad he had not been shackled to Gisela,

  because he was certain he would have strangled her long since. He could only

  admire his brother's patience in silence, resisting any impulse to eavesdrop

  even a little.

  "Herm tried to explain things to me," Katherine was saying to Marguerida, "and

  so did Gisela, but I still feel quite disoriented." She gave Herm a stern look,

  then favored Gisela with one that was openly hostile.

  Mikhail could just imagine what sort of nonsense Giz had offered, and admired

  Katherine's firm control on her temper. "My husband has been keeping secrets

  from me for years, and I am only now discovering them." She moved restlessly and

  brushed her free hand across her brow, as if she was afraid of something.

  "I have tried to reassure her that her thoughts are safe, but Katherine is a

  very stubborn woman," Herm commented dryly. "She will probably forgive me in a

  few decades."

  Marguerida nodded and gave a soft laugh. "If you are fortunate, Dom Hermes.

  Domna, trust me. No one is going to invade your privacy." She's very frightened,

  Mik, but I must say she is concealing at very well.

  "Would I know if they did?" Katherine asked with candor. Mikhail could sense her

  heart beating a little faster, and felt his liking for the woman increase

  further.

  "No, you would not," Marguerida admitted calmly. "And your uppermost thoughts

  are audible to me, if I focus my attention on you. Still, you are worrying

  yourself for no good reason. Darkovans are most scrupulous in these matters."

  "I suppose they must be, or else everyone would be quite mad." Katherine sighed

  and drank off half her glass with a nervous gesture. "I will be all right as

  soon as I can get back to work."

  "Work?" Mikhail looked at her, watching the wine begin to ease her discomfort.

  "Katherine is a very fine painter, and she left much of her clothing behind so

  she could bring along her paints and brushes." Herm smiled fondly at his wife.

  "I met her when she was doing a portrait." Damn Gisela for setting us wrong-I

  should have known she was up to something. I don't care ahout my clothing, but I

  think my Kate will take my sister's eyes out the first chance she gets. I had

  almost forgotten how spiteful she could be, for no good reason.

  "An artist. How wonderful. Then we must give you a room in which to work,"

  Marguerida insisted. "Let me think. Ah, yes. There is a pleasant chamber on the

  second floor, with decent north light. It is very quiet, so you will not be

  disturbed. Will you need an easel? I don't suppose you brought one, what with

  the restrictions on baggage."

  "You are right-I didn't." Katherine looked at Marguerida with relief. "Herm did

  not tell me what was going on-he could not have risked it, really-just told me

  to pack, and we were at the spaceport before I knew what was happening. It is a

  very good thing I trust my husband, for if I had not, we would probably not be

  here now. But it was very . . . unsettling."

  "I am sure it was," Marguerida said with sympathy. Better than anyone in the

  room, she knew what it meant to be uprooted, to be dragged out of bed in the

  middle of the night without explanation. Her memories of the Sharra Rebellion

  were vague, for she had only been a child at the time, but they remained

  disturbing, even after so many years.

  She set aside these thoughts firmly and concentrated on making Katherine feel

  more comfortable. "We must have an easel built for you immediately. The Castle

  carpenters can probably manage that in a day, although they will complain that

  they have been rushed and that it is not a good job, that the wood is not of the

  proper sort, then stand around and mutter darkly. They will tell you that it

  would have been better if they had had oak, but that only pine was available,

  most likely."

  Katherine laughed at last. "I know. Craftsmen are such perfectionists. I don't

  suppose I can get any canvases?"

  "We have canvas, but it is not of a quality for painting, only for making

  awnings and tents. Can you manage with board? Wood we have in plenty, and our

  painters here use panels of it."

  "Perhaps Master Gilhooly can provide some," Mikhail offered. "He is head of the

  Painters Guild, which I confess is a very small company. They can probably

  supply you with panels and anything else you need, including pigments."

  "That would be wonderful, since my supplies are limited, and it does not seem

  that I am going to be able to get more when these are exhausted. I confess that

  I am very spoiled, since all I needed to do was sit down at the console of my

  com
puter and order what I needed, and it would be delivered in a few hours." I

  cannot believe I am standing here discussing paints with these complete

  strangers, as if nothing were more important. Why is Mikhail wearing a glove

  indoors-maybe his hand is scarred or something? And Marguerida has mitts, but

  Gisela does not. It is not cold in here, but perhaps she has poor circulation.

  Will I ever understand these people? It is all too confusing. I wish I were

  somewhere else!

  "There are no computers here since that is a restricted technology, forbidden

  except to the people at HQ," said Mikhail. "And we have nothing resembling a

  depot of art supplies on Darkover. The Painters Guild grinds and mixes their own

  colors, and the Brushmakers supply the tools. I believe the Woodworkers Guild is

  charged with creating the panels. And that entirely exhausts my store of

  knowledge on the matter."

  "Then you have never visited the Painters Guild yourself?" Katherine seemed

  surprised by his knowledge and then by his ignorance.

  "No, I have not." Mikhail shrugged his shoulders. Like Regis before him, he had

  been a virtual prisoner in Comyn Castle for years, except for a few trips to

  Arilinn, and one to Armida, ten years before. Now he would be even more

  restricted, he knew, and the prospect did not delight him. "I would know nothing

  at all, except that I was a very curious boy, and I absorbed tidbits whenever I

  could. I know who is head of the Guild, because it is part of my duty to know,

  but I have never actually met Master Gilhooly. I met his predecessor long ago,

  when he came to arrange for a portrait of Lady Linnea, and I asked him a great

  many questions, the answers to which have long since faded from memory." Mikhail

  shook his head and laughed softly.

  "I think we are about to sit down, Mikhail. Will you show Domna Katherine to her

  place." And keep charming her, cario. It's working. She is starting to relax a

  little, which should improve her digestion.

  That will not be any burden. I like her. Do you?

  Oh, yes. And it is taking all my discipline not to ask her more about Amedi

  Korniel right now. His official biography is rather dry and she probably never

  actually met him, but maybe she knows some family stories about him. But it

  gives us some common ground for further conversation.