sense of unease. Gareth seemed like a good lad, but Lew did not know him very
well. He must have the wind up more than he thought, if he was being suspicious
of a child of fourteen. And why was Gisela watching him? The last thing he
needed was more of her mischief.
But she was smiling, and Lew could not remember the last time he had found Giz
smiling at anything. There was nothing in her look that was alarming, and then
he realized she was not actually looking at him, but at his dinner companion,
Katherine Aldaran. Wonder of wonders, there was an expression of fondness on
Gisela's face as she looked at her sister-in-law.
Kate was just finishing her soup, and she raised her eyes from her bowl, caught
Gisela's look, and returned the smile. The tension in her shoulders slackened as
her eyes met the other woman's. He realized that his abrupt silence had
perturbed Katherine, that she must have understood that he was using his laran,
and had probably assumed it had something to do with her. Still, she was
containing her fears wonderfully, and he was impressed again. What had he been
saying to her? He could not remember . . .
Really, he was getting too old to maintain a normal conversation while he
communicated telepathically. He felt a strange satisfaction in this
realization-he was so very fortunate to be as old as he was! He had managed to
outlive many of his foes, and had acquired a bit of real wisdom along the way.
The biting grief was that he had lost so many precious friends at the same time.
Lew dipped his spoon and took another mouthful of soup. It was tepid and
unappetizing now, and he pushed the bowl away. He considered Belfontaine and
Granfell again, weighing what he knew of the two men from his visits to HQ.
Their surface thoughts were similar, full of ambition and a longing for power.
Lew had never really understood minds like theirs, no matter how many people he
encountered who thought this way. He wondered if Lyle Belfontaine had the least
idea of how eager his subordinate was to get ahead. Could he use this to
Darkover's advantage?
Javanne Hastur was fixing him with a basilisk glare from the other side of the
table, her rather protuberant eyes bulging with suspicion. Katherine shifted
uncomfortably in her chair, thinking the look was aimed at her, and he heard the
creak of the wood beneath her slender body. He returned Javanne's gaze with a
bland smile, knowing this would annoy her enormously. It was a shame they had so
many old scores to settle. Javanne was really an intelligent woman whose
pettiness and wrong-thinking was born of her frustration and feelings of
powerlessness.
Lew turned his eyes toward Katherine, and thought how very nice she looked in
the white wool gown with black embroidery that he had given his daughter years
before. The colors suited her perfectly, and the dress outlined the rise of her
breasts in a modest way that was all the more provoking for being so subtle. He
liked her, and thought that Herm was lucky to have found such a wife. Then
Mikhail, at the head of the table, quirked an eyebrow at him, and the enormity
of his easy promise to Nico swept through him. He should have told the lad to
come back! How was he going to tell Mik, let alone Marguerida?
"Forgive me, Domna Katherine. I have no idea what we were talking
about-something came into my mind and I completely lost my train of thought."
"What are you up to now?" Javanne asked suspiciously.
Lew did not answer immediately, but instead studied the woman he had known for
over six decades. Time had been kind to her, and although her red hair was now
almost as white as Regis' had been, her skin was still smooth and soft, and she
did not look her age. He wondered if her combative disposition kept her
youthful-certainly her personality had not mellowed with years, and he could
almost forgive his eldest grandson for running off in order to avoid her. She
had always been a headstrong and difficult person-a bully-even as a girl, but he
had never thought her wicked or evil. Like himself, she was just quite
pig-headed in favor of her own treasured opinions.
"Mother, do stop plaguing Lew, as if he been created purely to annoy you."
For a moment it appeared that Javanne was going to lose her temper at her
youngest and least loved son. Instead, she held herself in check, as if the
presence of Katherine Aldaran made her hesitate. Lew let himself marvel at his
daughter's cunning in the seating arrangements. She had put Gabriel Lanart-Alton
at her right, at the other end of the table, and Javanne at Mikhail's,
separating the couple by the length of the board. Then she had put Lew across
from Javanne, to draw her wrath away from Mikhail, and paired him with
Katherine, to guarantee at least a semblance of courtesy. Under Dio's tutelage,
during the last years of her life, Marguerida had turned from a rather awkward
young academic into a capable and even masterful political hostess, able to be
gracious under the most trying of circumstances. He looked down the board toward
his daughter, and, aware of his regard, she gazed at him, a bit puzzled. He let
his deep love for his only child hold him for a moment, then turned back to wait
for Javanne's response.
"I do not imagine that Lew was brought to life just to irritate me, although it
often feels as if he were." This admission had a ring of sincerity. "But he
spent too many years away from Darkover for me to trust him completely. I
believe he is too much a friend of the Federation for anyone's good." This had
been her complaint for years, and it did not bother him in the least. More,
Javanne was genuinely distraught over her brother's sudden death, and by the
fact that she had not been summoned until he was gone. That Lady Linnea had been
adamant on that matter she did not know, and he hoped she never would.
Undoubtedly she thought it was Lew's fault, and that was for the best. What she
really wanted was a good argument, the better to vent her churning emotions.
"Tell me, Javanne, if you had a choice, would you prefer a foe you could see, or
one that was invisible?"
She blinked her large eyes once, then frowned at Lew. "One I could see,
obviously. What sort of question is that?" The color rose in her cheeks, as if
she suspected he was trying to trick her somehow.
"Very wise. And while the Federation maintains a presence on Darkover, we can
keep an eye on them. But I fear you are about to realize your oft spoken wish to
have them gone. At present, it is their intention to withdraw in a month, by
their reckoning."
Her eyes narrowed. "And when were you going to share this wonderful news?" She
did not sound very pleased, but instead seemed even more wary.
"At the Council meeting, Mother, when everyone was present, and could hear it at
one time, with all the details that we know thus far," Mikhail explained
patiently.
"Very proper," she admitted grudgingly. "I suppose you are disappointed by this
development," she shot at Lew, still seeking something to dispute.
"Not in the least. The Station Chief has been a headache since he arrived, and
the Planetar
y Administrator is nothing but a figurehead and can do nothing to
control him. The political changes that have occurred in the Federation have not
been to our benefit at all. And I will not miss Lyle Belfontaine for one moment.
But I confess I am more than a little alarmed by the planned pullout." He could
sense Katherine listening intently to what he was saying. A servant whisked away
his empty bowl, and replaced it with rabbithorn forcemeat in a tender crust, a
serving of carrots surrounding it. It looked very tempting, and he hoped that
Javanne would not ruin his appetite with her persistent needling.
"Alarmed?" There was a note of caution in Javanne's voice, for however much they
disagreed on almost everything concerning Darkover, she had a decent respect for
his political acumen.
"Yes, Javanne, alarmed. Once they abandon the spaceport, we will not be able to
watch what they are doing."
"But, why should that matter?"
"You are not a stupid woman, cousin. Think! Without a presence on the planet,
and their own people to consider, there is nothing to restrain the Federation
from attempting to conquer Darkover by force."
Her eyes bulged dangerously. "I had not . . . you are trying to frighten me, Lew
Alton!"
"No, I am not!" He paused, filled with the longing to avoid a real
confrontation, no matter how much Javanne wished for one. There would be enough
shouting and disagreement when the Comyn Council met to satisfy everyone. He
decided to take a different tack, to see if he could distract the woman.
"Although if I were, it might pay you back for that ghost story you told me when
I was twelve. I had nightmares for weeks afterward. Javanne is a superb
storyteller," he informed Katherine, wishing to draw her into the conversation,
"and can chill your blood with a minimum of words."
I can believe that. She remands me of my Aunt Tansy, always so sure she knew
best how to run other people's lives. "We have a lot of such stories on Renney,
but I never have acquired a taste for them. When I was five or six, we visited
one of the ghost groves on the coast, and I was frightened out of my wits,"
Katherine replied. She gave him one of her remarkable smiles, as if she
understood what he was doing, and Lew found himself thinking again that Herm was
a damn lucky man.
"Fancy you remembering that," Javanne said, preening slightly, and looking
rather fine, with a blush on her pale cheeks and a glitter of pleasure in her
eyes.
"It was a formidible influence on my life," he answered dryly.
"Do you really believe the Federation would try to . . . invade Darkover, Lew?"
She was sufficiently mollified by her own memory of the ghost story to be civil
instead of spiteful.
"I don't know, but I confess to being worried."
Javanne stared at him, her face a mirror of conflicted emotions. "You are
serious, aren't you?"
"Very."
Javanne lowered her head and took a bite of her rabbithorn. She chewed and
swallowed, sipped some wine, and then looked at Lew again, her face thoughtful
and less angry now. "I believe I have misjudged matters somewhat, in my efforts
to keep the Terranan from . . . forgive me, cousin. I see I have not respected
your efforts as I should have."
"There is nothing to forgive," he answered, startled by her uncharacteristic
apology. He ignored the slight stab of conscience at the lie on his lips. There
was a great deal to forgive, starting with Javanne's rejection of Domenic. But
he thought it wiser to take advantage of her good humor of the moment than to
settle any old scores. She would likely be conspiring with Francisco Ridenow
before the dishes were cleared, for she simply could not resist the urge to
meddle. "We see things very differently, but we both want what is best for
Darkover."
Javanne nodded, then looked down the board, at Danilo Hastur, sitting next to
his mother, toward the center of the gathering and well away from the most
volatile of the guests. "Yes, we do," she finally answered, casting a sudden and
unloving look on Mikhail before she turned her attention to her supper.
I need to see you after dinner, Mik-it is important.
Oh, no! More alarms and excursions? By Aldones, I wish that Regis had never made
me his heir! Very well-in my study. At least it will get me away from Mother.
Two hours later, Lew Alton and Mikhail Hastur were sitting in the cozy and
shabby study where so many important matters had been decided over the years.
Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, Donal Alar, and Herm Aldaran were also in attendance. Lew
looked at Mikhail and chewed his lower lip reflectively. His son-in-law looked
exhausted, and he was not feeling too chipper himself. The dinner had seemed
interminable despite the excellence of the food, and the pleasant company of
Katherine Aldaran. He had been restless, aware that his grandson was alone in
uncertain circumstances. It was unlikely that any harm would come to him with so
many people around him. Still, he wondered if he should have just ordered the
boy to return, instead of taking it upon himself to tell him to remain by the
gate.
Javanne had recovered from her good mood, returning to her earlier one of
confrontation, and it had taken all of his energy to keep from arguing with her.
It had ruined his pleasure in the food, until he had thought to ask Katherine
about the ghost groves she had mentioned. This had led the conversation onto
less treacherous paths, and after a while, Javanne had given up the effort to
berate him or Mikhail for things entirely beyond their control.
After dessert, Javanne had descended on Dani Hastur, all smiles and charm, and
Lew had watched, caught between amusement and annoyance at the transparency of
her actions. She had never resigned herself to Dani's choice of the Elhalyn
Domain over the Hastur one, and it was now clear that she was going to try to
get the man into her clutches. Dani had shrunk away from her attentions
politely, and Gareth had said something that made her laugh and ruffle his fine,
golden hair with a tender hand. Lew, observing the action as Javanne returned to
harrassing her nephew, Dani, had found the boy looking back at him again, with
an unreadable expression on his handsome features. Dani looked haggard, and
ready to lose his usually calm temper, and finally Dom Gabriel had intervened
and almost dragged his tiresome wife out of the dining room and back to their
suite.
That inconsequential moment came back to Lew now. There was something going on,
something he was missing, and he knew he could not bring his attention to the
problem at hand until he solved the puzzle of Gareth Hastur-Elhalyn to his own
satisfaction. The boy had never shown any interest in Javanne on his two
previous visits to Comyn Castle. So why was he hanging close to her now-he had
been by her side before they started eating, too!
Looking around at the comfortable furnishings of Regis' study, Lew remembered
another gathering in that room, fifteen years before. He could recall the
tension in the chamber, and the sound of Dani Hastur's voice, anxious and
fearful, as
he told his father he did not wish to be the heir of Hastur. And,
with this, Lew suddenly knew the answer to the puzzle. His belly knotted. How
could they have been so stupid not to have anticipated that perhaps Dani's son
would feel cheated of an inheritance he would otherwise have had. The Elhalyn
kingship was nothing compared to the real power which Regis had wielded, and it
never would be.
If he was correct, and Lew now felt certain he was, then Gareth would regard
Javanne as a natural ally. The boy had not been proclaimed as Elhalyn heir
yet-he was almost a year away from that-and so he could nurture hopes for a
reversal of the agreement that Regis and Mikhail had entered into! And Javanne
would seize the opportunity in both her skillful hands. He held back a groan.
What a dreadful time Nico had picked to do something uncharacteristically
mischievous and probably very foolish. Fortunate, in that he had discovered a
plot-which still might come to nothing-but unfortunate in that his absence was
certain to cause problems. He weighed the matter in his mind again, considering
various possible scenarios. After several seconds, Lew decided he did not like
the expression on Gareth's face one bit. Perhaps Domenic was safer away from
Comyn Castle than in it. For a moment he was aghast by the deadly direction his
thoughts had taken. Gareth was only a boy! He must be more tired than he
thought, to entertain such ideas. On the other hand, accidents could occur, and
it was better to be safe than sorry. If he was wrong, then he was wrong, but if
his suspicious mind had turned up something worth worrying about, then he must
proceed cautiously.
Ruthlessly, Lew played out the possibilities. If something happened to
Domenic-Aldones forbid-Mikhail still had another son. But Roderick, fine lad
that he was, did not have a head for governance, and he could not imagine
anyone, even Javanne, suggesting that he should be named heir. Without Nico, the
logical person to follow Mikhail would be Gareth Elhalyn, which would find favor
with Javanne Hastur and several others on the Council. Keeping Nico out of reach
suddenly seemed a very good idea! He was probably imagining plots where none
existed, and he would keep his peace on the matter for the moment, but he would
keep an eye on Gareth, just in case.