Page 26 of Traitor's Sun


  Having settled the matter in his own mind, Lew went over what Domenic had told

  him again, trying to make sure he had not forgotten anything important. The more

  he thought about it, the surer he became that Belfontaine would take action.

  Perhaps not precisely what Granfell suggested, but he could think of several

  things that Belfontaine might attempt, including trying to occupy Comyn Castle.

  Lew could not be certain what Belfontaine would do, but he was sure the little

  man would not be able to pass up an opportunity to further his own ambitions. It

  would be just too tempting. So they must proceed as if the plot that Dominic had

  overheard was real until they learned otherwise. Lew felt a flush of

  excitement-something that lessened the ever-present grief over Regis' death for

  a moment. Suddenly he was glad that his grandson had gotten into mischief. Even

  if nothing happened, it was excellent experience for the lad.

  Lew had told Nico he would handle the matter, but now that the time had come he

  was not sure how to begin. He had taken so much on himself, and in the past this

  had not always been a wise choice.

  He glanced around the room. Donal Alar stood behind Mikhail, his young face

  solemn. Danilo Syrtis-Ardais looked dreadful, his normally pale skin was gray

  and drawn, and only Herm Aldaran did not look ready to fall over. The grief over

  the death of Regis Hastur had taken a toll on all of them, but Regis' lifelong

  companion, Danilo, was probably the hardest hit.

  "Why did you want to talk to me, Lew?" Mikhail sounded tired, his voice tense

  and a little hoarse. "I have had enough speaking to last me until Midwinter, and

  the end is not in sight."

  "Yes, I know. It is almost as bad as when you came back from the past, isn't

  it."

  "Worse. I was twenty-eight then, not forty-three, and I recovered more quickly."

  "Well, son, I have some news."

  "What is it? I saw that something made you stop in the middle of the soup.

  Couldn't it have waited for tomorrow?"

  "Domenic has run away from home." He wanted to soften the blow, but there really

  was not any way to do it.

  Mikhail gaped at Lew, and Danilo gave a little gasp. Donal did not react except

  to raise his eyebrows, and Herm looked puzzled.

  "What the hell do you mean, Lew," Mikhail snapped, the color rising in his

  cheeks. "Nico is upstairs in bed with a cold or something."

  "I'm afraid not. He only pretended to be sick, so he could sneak out of the

  castle and go to watch the Travelers perform outside the North Gate."

  Mikhail was clearly outraged, at the ragged edge of control, and Lew now

  regretted his impulsiveness. "Domenic is off in the middle of the night with . .

  ."

  "Hush, son! Just because Nico has never done anything on a lark before is no

  reason to assume he never would. He is safe enough. And he had the good sense to

  tell me what was going on, rather than you or his mother. He knew you would get

  angry." Lew stifled his own worries about his eldest grandson, alone in a field

  outside the city. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize him, since Domenic

  was only outside Comyn Castle during his Guard duties, but there was still a

  chance. But he was just one in a crowd, and if he knew Nico, the boy was

  probably being very careful not to draw attention to himself. It would have to

  do for the moment.

  Mikhail quelled his outrage with a visible effort. Then the start of a smile

  began to play across his face. He shook his head and ran his ungloved fingers

  through his thick, curling, and still golden hair. "Snuck off, did he? He picked

  a dreadful time to get into mischief, but I never expected . . . Rory yes, but

  not Domenic. If he got in touch with you, why didn't you tell the little scamp

  to get himself back here?"

  "Well, there's more to the story, and the rest is not quite so innocent, I'm

  afraid."

  "You don't mean he's been kidnapped or something?" Danilo interjected.

  "No, he is quite free, sitting by a fire pit and keeping warm, the last I knew.

  No, the bad news is that Nico stumbled into a conspiracy."

  "What!" The partial calm that had quieted Mikhail vanished. "Conspiracy? All the

  more reason to make him . . ."

  "Mikhail, he is a man, albeit a young one. And if he had not been there, we

  might never have suspected that the Terrans were considering an assault on the

  funeral procession and an attempt on your life!" The words came out in a rush,

  more abruptly than Lew had intended, and they had the effect of halting any

  further questions. Instead, everyone just stared at Lew as if he had lost his

  mind. "That is why Nico did not run back here-he decided it was best if he

  remained in place and kept an eye on things. He knows the face of one of the

  conspirators, and he can describe the others. And I promised him that someone

  would join him at the North Gate. The only question is who."

  "Kill me . . ." Mikhail was stunned. "But, why?"

  "How better to gain control of Darkover?"

  "But I thought the Federation was going to leave."

  "That is our current information, yes. But it appears that Federation

  Intelligence may have been using the Travelers as spies, and I have to wonder

  how long that has been going on. It would explain a few incidents which have

  troubled me during recent years."

  At this, Danilo nodded in agreement, his exhausted face actually brightening, as

  if the news distracted him momentarily from his grief. "That does answer some

  questions, doesn't it? The Travelers! What fools we were not to have thought of

  them before."

  "Well, why should we suspect a troup of entertainers of being anything but what

  they appeared? In truth, most of them likely are just that-players and

  jongleurs."

  "What happened, exactly?" Mikhail cut in angrily. "Start at the beginning,

  before I completely lose my mind!"

  "Yes, of course." Lew ordered his thoughts carefully. "It seems that this

  morning, while he was on duty, Nico saw a Travelers' wagon pass by the

  castle-yes, yes, I know they had no business in Thendara at this season. There

  was a girl, and . . ."

  "Oh, a girl," Donal exclaimed, grinning. "About time."

  "Perhaps." Lew gave the young paxman a swift glance, pleased that the

  interruption dissipated some of the tension in the room. "Anyhow, she seems to

  have told him there was a performance at the North Gate this evening, and, on a

  lark, Nico decided to go see it-to avoid Javanne as much as anything, I believe.

  He saw two men in Terranan garb, and that aroused his interest. When they left

  off watching the Travelers, he got curious and snuck over and tried to discover

  what they were up to-rather brave of him. The spy, who is a driver of one of the

  wagons, and the two men had a conversation in which the driver told them that

  Regis was no more." Lew paused, trying to organize his words carefully.

  "That news was enough for Miles Granfell . . ." he began.

  "Granfell-I am not surprised!" Danilo looked grim as he spoke. "My contacts with

  him have not been as many as yours, Lew, but I have always thought him driven

  and ambitious."

  "Yes, all of that
, and opportunistic as well, it seems. He knows that we take

  our dead leaders to the rhu fead, and he seems to have realized that it would be

  a fine opportunity to attempt a massacre of the Domains families, since most of

  us will accompany the funeral train." Lew paused, waiting to see if anyone

  reacted, but everyone seemed too stunned to speak. "It seems to have been an

  impulsive idea, and he does not yet have the approval of Lyle Belfontaine. But

  knowing our Station Chief as I do, I find it hard to imagine him passing up what

  may be his last chance to try to get Darkover into the Federation instead of

  leaving in defeat in a month's time. At the moment, it is only a plan, not yet

  an actual plot, but Domenic felt that Granfell was sincere in his intentions."

  "Nico knows nothing of spies and intrigues! He must come back at once!"

  "Just a moment, Mikhail," Danilo began quietly. "By the time you were Nico's

  age, you had fought on the fire lines in the Kilghards, joined at least one

  catamount hunt that I can remember, and done any number of other dangerous

  things. I believe that it is good for Domenic to continue in this venture, for

  I, like Lew, have never really approved of Regis' insistence on keeping all of

  us shut up in the Castle, getting on one another's nerves, and looking over our

  shoulders for assassins. Certainly he must not be left alone, but I can see no

  useful purpose in dragging him back here and acting as if he were incapable of

  looking after himself for a night. The only question is who is the best person

  to go after him. I don't believe that letting the news of his absence become

  common knowledge would be helpful, but I think he . . ."

  Donal, looking quite self-conscious, interrupted. "Dom Danilo is right. Nico

  needs the experience, and he really is very clever."

  Mikhail turned and looked over his shoulder at his paxman, his expression

  troubled. Then he looked back, stared at Lew, and his face changed. "Perhaps,

  but I do not like it." There is something more, isn't there, Lew? Something you

  are holding back.

  Yes, there is. It as only a suspicion, but I really thank Nico is safer out of

  Comyn Castle than in it, for the next few days.

  What! You don't imagine that my mother . . .

  No, it is something else, Mikhail. But sparing your son from Javanne's fury will

  be a kindness to them both, don't you agree?

  Damn you, old man! Very well. Keep me in the dark for a bit longer. I trust you.

  Believe me, Mikhail, I will tell you if I am right or wrong as soon as I am

  able.

  At least I don't have to start looking at my mother as if she might be planning

  . . .

  Murder is not Javanne's style, son, but there will be others present who might

  not be so choosy.

  Dom Damon?

  He is one, and Dom Francisco Ridenow is another.

  There is that-I hope you are being overly vigilant.

  I hope so, too-but keep Donal at your back!

  "I'll go," Herm shifted in his chair and spoke very quietly, an unreadable

  expression on his face.

  "You?" Danilo gave him a questioning look.

  "Yes. My face is not well-known, and it would not be the first time I engaged in

  a bit of skullduggery, Danilo. And besides, if I am not in Comyn Castle, then

  you can't turn me over to Belfontaine for arrest." He gave a cockeyed grin,

  looking gleeful and a little uncomfortable at the same time. "Not that you

  would, I know, but you can now tell the fellow that I am not here, and to go to

  hell. You do want to do that, don't you, Mikhail?"

  "More than you can imagine."

  "But, Herm," Danilo began, "you have been away from Darkover for so long. Don't

  you think that I, or someone . . ."

  "Forgive me, but you are much too well known, Danilo. Someone would almost

  certainly recognize you, or Lew, or just about anyone else you could trust with

  this. But me-I have kept my ugly face out of the mediafaxes, so the number of

  people who might know me is very small even in the Federation, and on Darkover,

  I am a nobody. Good Lord-Gisela barely recognized me! And besides, there is no

  one on Darkover more in touch with Federation schemes."

  "Well, there is a certain wisdom in that, I guess," Danilo admitted grudgingly.

  "Yes, if you go out and find out what is going on . . ." He trailed off, his

  vivid eyes more lively than they had been a few minutes before.

  "Zandru blast the Terranan and their filthy, vile plans!" Mikhail's face was

  white with anger. "What would have become of us if Nico hadn't been there to

  uncover this plot?" He lowered his head into his hands and shook all over. Then

  he straightened up slowly. His face was pale, the anger was gone; only despair

  and resignation remained. "My impulse is to find these men and arrest them-which

  is precisely what I must not do. Damn Regis for dying anyhow!"

  "My sentiments exactly, Mikhail," Lew said dryly. The worst was over, he knew,

  although he did not look forward to telling his daughter what was going on.

  "Herm is a good man for the job. Between his knowledge of the Federation, his

  native cunning, and Nico's intelligence, we should be able to avoid any

  disasters. And perhaps it will all come to nothing, it is still possible that

  Belfontaine will not want to risk a Board of Inquiry, or that there will not be

  time to arrange an ambush along the road. But I don't intend to assume that, and

  neither should you."

  "Very well. You go out there, Herm, and get Nico to tell you everything, and

  then . . ."

  Danilo cleared his throat softly, and everyone looked at him. "It strikes me

  that it is perhaps best if Domenic remains with Hermes-a man with a boy is less

  likely to draw attention than a man alone. Plus let's not forget that Nico has

  the Alton Gift. That is very useful under these circumstances."

  "But the danger-"

  "Is minimal, Mikhail," Danilo said very calmly, as if he had already evaluated

  the possibilities and found them to his liking. "He has already shown that he is

  clever enough to get out of Comyn Castle unnoticed, and smart enough to inform

  Lew when he encountered a situation he could not manage on his own. He will be

  safe enough with Hermes, and between the two of them, they can discover whether

  this plot is anything to worry about. I am sure that Herm will not allow Nico to

  get into harm's way."

  "I don't like it! But you are probably right." Mikhail grimaced. "Which leaves

  me the delightful task of telling Marguerida. Go, now, before I change my mind!"

  He groaned dramatically, then let something like a ghostly chuckle rise in his

  throat. He shook his head. "The ironic part is that, under any other

  circumstances, I would be tickled pink by Nico's mischief."

  "We all would, son," Lew answered.

  Herm did not move for a moment, his head lowered as if he was thinking deeply.

  Then he rose from his chair and nodded. "I'll take care of the lad as if he were

  my own."

  11

  When Herm reached his suite, he found Katherine on a couch in the sitting room,

  with a tablet of paper on her lap, sketching. She had removed the white gown she

  had worn at dinner, and replaced it with a shapeless and much-worn garment in a
>
  brown that did not become her. Her long hair was braided into a queue down her

  back, and there were smears of charcoal on her cheeks, like the marks of some

  tribeswoman preparing for a rite. She looked up at the sound of his footfalls

  and smiled in greeting. "Where did you get off to? You just vanished after

  dinner, leaving me to the mercies of Lady Javanne, who pretended she wished to

  know all about me. Fortunately, Gisela came to my rescue by distracting her. It

  must be very hard having that woman for a mother-in-law, and I pity both

  Marguerida and Giz." She sounded amused by the whole incident, and more relaxed

  than she had been in days.

  "Lew needed to discuss something with me," he replied, falling back into the

  long habit of never revealing anything to anyone, even his beloved wife. Then he

  braced himself, realizing that his sudden decision in the study had been reached

  without much consideration for her needs. What had he been thinking? "And now I

  have to go away for a few days, dearest."

  "Away? Why? Where?" She gave him a sharp look.

  "Something has come up, and I have to deal with it."

  Katherine set her tablet aside and rose, frowning now. "I do not like the sound

  of this."

  "I'm sorry, Kate."

  "You aren't going to tell me what is going on, are you?"

  "No, I am not."

  "Why?"

  "Because the less you know, the less chance there is that you will be tricked or

  induced to say something to the wrong person."

  "And who might that be?" she replied dangerously, the anger welling up slowly.

  "I cannot say." He did not want to remind her that there were telepaths all

  around them, and that she might disclose something without ever intending to.

  She was far too uncomfortable with that situation as it was. Nor did he choose

  to reveal that he found his sister's sudden interest in Kate very suspicious. It

  seemed out of character, somehow, for Gisela. The little he had seen of her

  since his arrival had puzzled him. She was almost frantically gay one moment,

  then silent and removed the next. Certainly she was nothing like the young woman

  he remembered, and he wanted to warn his wife against trusting her overmuch. At

  the same time he knew it was important for Katherine to fit into this new life,

  and for her to make friends, so he held his tongue. He would have to depend on