Traitor's Sun

  seven hundred years ago. She was an incredibly powerful leronis, and she managed

  not to die entirely when her body failed her. Instead, she left the imprint of

  her personality in a matrix array in the Old Tower of Comyn Castle. You can

  still see what remains of it-blackened and broken." Marguerida shuddered a

  little, remembering the sight of the ruined structure when she rode into

  Thendara just before Midsummer sixteen years before. She had gone into the

  overworld, torn a great jewel from a building that existed only on that plane,

  and in the process, she had destroyed the link that kept Ashara Alton tied to

  present-day Darkover. In some manner that no one could explain, she had absorbed

  the energy of that jewel onto her left hand, and brought across the boundaries

  between the worlds a matrix that was part of both. She glanced down at her

  mitted hand, then looked up again.

  "Over the centuries, she . . . well, manifested is a reasonable word for it. She

  would latch onto the energy patterns of someone, and use them to fulfill her

  will. And she had a very, very strong will," she finished dryly, reflecting that

  she had at last reached the point in her life when she could speak of these

  events without starting to tremble. Marguerida did not feel the need to add that

  Ashara had a personal grudge against her, that she had foreseen the existence of

  one Marguerida Alton and had been determined to destroy her. Kate could only

  take so much information, and besides, she didn't need to know.

  Katherine paused in her sketching and frowned. "Does that happen very often? I

  mean, do a lot of your people go around and muck in the minds of . . .?"

  "No, it is rare, and considered extremely unethical. What Ashara managed to do

  to me, when I was still a child and too young to resist her, was reconfigure

  certain of my brain patterns, so that I did not go into the usual threshhold

  sickness at puberty. I almost did not go into puberty at all! I came back to

  Darkover a twenty-eight-year-old virgin, because her interference affected my

  sexuality." Marguerida gave a grin. "I have been trying to catch up for years

  now."

  "That must make Mikhail a very happy man." There was no bite in the words, and

  Katherine sounded amused.

  "A very tired one occasionally," Marguerida agreed. "But when I got here, I had

  no idea of any of this, and I thought I was losing my mind more than anything

  else. Then I did become sick, and let me tell you, adult-onset threshhold

  illness is not a pleasant experience. I nearly died, and I would have except

  that I was helped by several people, including Mikhail, and miraculously, I

  survived."

  "I can see that. And your son Domenic said you and Mikhail went into the distant

  past, too-which I would have found utterly incredible two weeks ago. I keep

  having the dark suspicion that all of you are playing some trick on me, for

  reasons I cannot figure out."

  Now why would we do such a cruel thing?

  Katherine jumped and the charcoal slipped from her fingers and skittered away

  across the floor.

  "What! How did you . . . what did you just do?"

  "Damn! Forgive me, Katherine! I am very tired, and my control seems to be . . ."

  "What did you do!" Oddly, there was no fear in the question, just a

  single-minded rage.

  "I possess the Alton Gift, which is the ability to force rapport with another

  mind, even the mind of a nontelepath. But I did not intend to . . ." Marguerida

  was ashamed of herself, and very cross as well. She should never have come to

  see Katherine so soon after encountering Javanne. She was upset, more than she

  wanted to acknowledge, and that made her careless.

  Katherine bent down and recovered the charcoal. "Don't do it again!" Her cheeks

  were pale, and she was breathing shallowly.

  "No, I won't-unless necessity forces me to." One of the things she had learned

  over the years was never to make a promise that she could not be sure she could

  keep. "Still, I am curious. Why would you imagine that we would make up stories

  just to distress you?"

  "Herm never told me much about Darkover, and certainly not about this whole

  laran business, Marguerida," Katherine began, drawing her brows together and

  looking troubled. "He says he could not have, and this is almost true, because

  in the Federation now, there are eyes and ears everywhere. They spy on everyone,

  and everyone is assumed to be up to no good! He dragged me out of bed in the

  middle of the night, told me to pack, and the next thing I knew, we were on a

  Big Ship." She drew a shaking breath.

  "That was difficult, but Herm has always been rather secretive, and I just

  assumed that was his character. Now I discover he really has a secret-one that

  makes me . . . useless!"

  "Useless?"

  "Well-what do you call it . . . head-blind? Goddess, what a filthy term!"

  "I think you should speak to Ida Davidson."

  "Who?"

  Marguerida shifted on the stool. It was hard and uncomfortable, and she added to

  her list of things to remember to have some nice chairs brought in soon. "The

  small elderly woman you have seen with me the past two evenings."

  "Isn't she your nanny or something? There are so many people, and I haven't

  really been introduced to most of them-which I do understand, actually. I could

  have gone a whole lifetime without meeting Javanne Hastur," she finished rather

  bitterly.

  "Quite," Marguerida answered dryly. "No, Ida is not a nanny or a servant. She is

  the widow of my mentor, Ivor, who died shortly after he and I came to Darkover.

  She is a musician, a fine one, and when she came to Darkover to reclaim her

  husband's body, she remained here, because things in the Federation were already

  becoming difficult. She has no laran, and she has felt many of the same emotions

  I know you must be going through. But she has lived here for fifteen years, and

  I think she can reassure you much more than anything I can say." And it will

  take some of the pressure off me. I should have thought of it sooner-if I were

  not so damn tired!

  "Doesn't she mind being . . . how can she not feel like cripple?"

  "Ask her."

  "You are probably right-I am being overly anxious." Katherine swallowed hard. "I

  don't like things being out of my control," she admitted gruffly.

  "Who does?"

  "There is that, isn't there? I keep trying to keep my thoughts very . . .

  small."

  Marguerida shook her head. "I am sorry to tell you this, Katherine, but you are

  not doing a very good job of it. And that is because you are afraid-fear is like

  mental yelling."

  "So I should just relax and pretend that everything is wonderful!"

  "I did not say that, and I wouldn't. What I want you to do is get enough

  information to ease your fears of being . . . examined."

  She shivered all over for a second. "That is exactly it! And Herm wants me to be

  tested-he thinks I might have some latent paranormal talents or something-when

  Ter‚se . . . I can't stand this! I don't want my little girl to hear my

  thoughts!"

  "But, Katherine, she never would if she were trained properly. And if you really
>
  object to being checked out, then no one will force you. Do you know, I think

  you are actually more afraid of discovering you might have some sort of ability

  than of being . . . otherwise."

  Marguerida was loath to use the term head-blind just then.

  "Maybe," Katherine answered reluctantly. "Herm pointed out how often my

  portraits have elements in them that I have always thought were from my

  imagination, but which have turned out to be . . . significant to my subjects. I

  had never considered that, and, truthfully, I was disgusted by the idea. My Nana

  did not raise me to be a snoop!"

  "I am sure she didn't." Marguerida paused, carefully considering her next words.

  "But does it occur to you that you might be overreacting somewhat because you

  are afraid you have been inadvertently . . . snooping on your sitters. I mean,

  if you thought all your life that you were an honest person, and then one day

  you found yourself in a shop putting a trinket into your purse, you would be

  horrified, wouldn't you?"

  "Absolutely. You know, Marguerida, you are not doing a very good job of

  reassuring me right now."

  "Well, perhaps you don't need reassurance as much as you need forthrightness.

  Tell me, do you know what empathy is?"

  "Of course-it is the ability to share the emotions of others."

  "That is one definition, and valid as far as it goes. But here, on Darkover, it

  is one of the Gifts, that of the Ridenow Domain, and it is much more than the

  intellectual capacity to agree with the feelings of another."

  "I don't follow you."

  "There is a great distinction between 'I know how you feel' and 'I feel how you

  feel,' wouldn't you agree?"

  Katherine's eyes widened. "Yes, but . . . I see now. So that's it!"

  "What?"

  The other woman rubbed her cheek, leaving streaks of charcoal along the skin.

  "When I met Herm, the first thing I noticed about him was that he did not make

  me feel tired, the way many people do. He was so restful," she went on, shaking

  her head. "And after we married, it did not change. He made no demands on my

  emotions, but was just this good man. After a while I realized that he kept a

  tight rein on his feelings, that he was remote and secretive, but it did not

  matter because I loved him. He was my safe haven."

  "And it never occurred to you that you might have chosen him because he was

  remote and distant? That you had some natural empathy, which is normal, but that

  you had an extra helping of it, shall we say, and that a husband who kept his

  feelings to himself was a real blessing?"

  "No, not when you put it that way. Do you mean I don't really love him?"

  "Of course not! The way the two of you look at each other has such love in it

  that no one could imagine you do not adore one another. But we all pick

  partners, or try to, who suit us. Mikhail and I . . . well, the first time we

  met we had this ridiculous argument, but I think both of us sensed that we were

  meant for each other. And we still fight, too."

  "Really? Do you know, Herm and I rarely had any disagreements until we came to

  Darkover. Oh, there were a few times, and I lost my temper, but for the most

  part, it has been very nice."

  Marguerida laughed again. "Then you are very blessed."

  "Am I? I never thought about it like that. You have given me a great deal to

  consider, and I am not sure I am grateful, Marguerida."

  "I didn't expect you to be, Katherine. But you still have not told me why you

  imagined that anyone would tell you tales that would frighten or amaze you."

  Marguerida wanted to move away from the subject of the Aldaran marriage as

  quickly as possible. She felt uncomfortable, that she was meddling where she had

  no business.

  "It is probably cultural. On Renney we have a body of folklore that is hardly

  believable, and I schooled myself to be a skeptic even before I left there. One

  of your ancestors managed to survive in . . . what did you call it . . . a

  matrix array, but one of mine supposedly could shape-change into a large cat! I

  always thought that that story was something to keep us children from being

  wicked, and I hated it."

  Marguerida smiled. "As far as I know, we don't have any shapechangers on

  Darkover."

  "That's good! I don't think I could have stood that. I feel a little better now,

  but it probably won't last. I keep rocketing back and forth, between fear and

  rage and back again. And even though everyone has assured me that I am safe,

  that my mind will not be . . . explored by strangers, I don't believe it

  entirely. I hate it. And, more, I hate it that Herm has been lying to me for

  years and years." She snapped the slender stick of charcoal between her fingers

  and threw the pieces onto the floor.

  Marguerida waited to see if Katherine would do more, considering her own next

  move with a kind of calculation that shamed her just a little. "If I said that

  your fear and rage were entirely reasonable, would that help?"

  "A little." The admission seemed reluctant, as if she were unwilling to let go

  of the emotions.

  "I was furious when I discovered I had the Alton Gift, Katherine. And there were

  times when I would have traded it for a warm bed and a good meal, or almost

  anything, except that it cannot be transferred or given away. Inherited, yes.

  Domenic has it, and Yllana, too."

  "And Roderick?" Katherine was very curious, in spite of her fears.

  "Rory does not have the Alton Gift, but seems to have gotten a variant of the

  Aldaran one."

  "Oh, that! Herm told me it was the ability to see into the future, but I still

  find it hard to believe. If he had been able to really peer into tomorrow, he

  would have known we were going to come to Darkover, and at least have told me

  about it years ago. Wouldn't he?"

  Marguerida shook her head. "It doesn't function like that. Yes, the Aldaran Gift

  is that of foresight, but it is rarely nice and clear. At least my own

  experience of it has never been very precise-I get a burst of information, all

  sort of jumbled, and then I have to try and figure out what it means. That often

  has turned out to be something other than I thought at the time. And what Rory

  has is kind of a backward version."

  "Backward? You mean he can see the past?"

  "Sort of. It is more than just psychometry, although that is part of it."

  "Psychometry-now that one I have heard of. That's where someone can touch an

  object and tell how old it is, or something. It always sounded pretty

  far-fetched to me. But Rory's isn't exactly like that?"

  "No, it isn't. He can pick up something and not only tell you how old it is, but

  a great deal about the history of the person who used the thing. There was a

  time when I thought it would be a wonderful skill for an archaeologist, and even

  considered sending Roderick off Darkover to study. But now I am glad I changed

  my mind, because I realize that such a talent could cause more trouble than it

  is worth, in places other than here."

  Katherine looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think it would likely get him

  killed, if he were not careful. And from the little Amaury has told me, your son
>
  Rory is not a careful boy."

  "No, that's true enough." Marguerida smiled and ran the fingers of her ungloved

  hand through her hair. "I have always been grateful that Domenic had a cautious

  disposition, and was not so hasty as Roderick." I never should have told Nico he

  could never surprise ice! "He would make the sort of ruler that causes ministers

  to go early to their graves."

  "But Domenic will succeed Mikhail? I mean, there is no question about that?"

  "Yes, he will, always assuming he lives long enough." Bite your tongue! Nothing

  is going to happen to Nico, and you are borrowing trouble again! "Fortunately,

  my mother-in-law is almost alone in her insistance that Nico is not a legitimate

  heir to my husband."

  "But why? I have to say, Marguerida, that the little I have learned about

  Darkovan politics already is enough to drive me slightly mad, if I were not

  already well down that path on my own."

  "Nonsense! You are perfectly sane. You have been plunked down in a situation for

  which you were totally unprepared, and which probably violates some of your

  ideas about the nature of reality. I know that mine were seriously unsettled

  during my first months on Darkover. My father kept so much from me, my history

  and my potential as a telepath, so I can make an educated guess as to how you

  feel." She sighed and then smiled a little. "I have almost forgiven him now. He

  was well-intentioned, but totally wrong. Not that I would have believed him,

  mind you, if he had sat me down and said, 'Marja, you may discover that you can

  read minds, and you must not be afraid,' or something equally logical. The

  problem is that human beings are not really logical."

  Katherine seemed rather puzzled by this for a moment. "We aren't?"

  Marguerida smiled and shook her head. "While I was at University, and afterward,

  I behaved in what seemed to me to be a logical manner. But I now realize that

  what I did was do things irrationally, and then after I would arrange the events

  in my mind so they seemed to follow some sort of reasonable path. That is not

  logic-it is wishful thinking, and involves rewriting one's own history as one

  goes along. Life is not logical-it just goes along happening, and the best

  anyone can do is try to deal with the present as well as they can."

  "Very wise, and very difficult," Katherine replied thoughtfully.