Traitor's Sun

  "Yes, it is. And especially for someone as intelligent and strong-minded as I

  believe you are. Herm spoke of you as Kate during dinner, and I think I can make

  an educated guess . . ."

  "As opposed to picking my brains, you mean?" Katherine's face underwent a

  transformation, going from serious to reflective to amused in only a second. "We

  met over a portrait I was doing, but the first thing we did together was attend

  a performance of The Taming Of The Shrew. A very poor production, but after that

  I was his Kate. But I never realized until a few days ago how like Petruchio

  Herm actually is! Not a fortune hunter, of course, since I haven't one. I mean,

  I have watched him connive for ten years now, and I always thought it was

  charming, the way he could manipulate his fellow Senators. Now I discover he was

  gulling me, too, deceiving me just like he did those men and women, and it isn't

  the least bit charming! I want to kick him in the shins!"

  "Katherine, people deceive one another all the time, for much less important

  reasons than the safety of a planet. If a week goes by that Mikhail does not

  keep something from me that I believe I should be informed of, it is a miracle."

  Right now, he is closeted with my father and Danilo Syrtis-Ardais and Dani

  Hastur and who knows what other people, plotting and scheming, and when he tells

  me what he wishes to, I will have to pretend to be delighted.

  "But, you could . . ."

  "Yes, I could listen in-but I wasn't raised to be a snoop either! And I have to

  tread carefully, Katherine, because there are many who mistrust me, who think I

  have too much influence as it is, over my husband and my father." She looked

  down at her hands again. "I was granted a peculiar power, and Mikhail was given

  another-so between the two of us we can do remarkable deeds. There are quite a

  number of people who refuse to believe that we would never use what we have to

  force our wills on others-my mother-in-law among them. I think this is mostly

  because if she had the capacity, she would use it, and she cannot imagine that

  we would not." She sighed softly.

  "But you haven't? It must be very hard to resist the temptation, Marguerida."

  "No, not really. Oh, if I could turn Javanne into a toad, that might be pretty

  irresistible. Fortunately, laran doesn't function like that. It still follows

  all the rules of the universe."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "You know-all that matter into energy stuff. With my particular laran, I can

  convert, with a great deal of effort, some matter into energy, or the other way

  around, and so can Mikhail. Hmm . . . I could, for instance, cause your tablet

  to burst into flame-well, in theory at least. I have never tried such a thing.

  But I can't turn my mother-in-law into something else."

  "However much you might like to."

  "Exactly. But everything in Darkover society comes down to keeping the various

  parties in a balance of powers. Otherwise we would tear the fabric of our

  culture to shreds. In the past, we have almost done just that, and the gifts

  that Mikhail and I possess are all too similar to things that come from our

  history for anyone's complete comfort. So I still have to act like a proper

  Darkovan female, and defer to the menfolk! All right-pretend to defer!"

  Marguerida felt her face redden with fury. She had to get a grip on herself

  before she said more. "I have learned to trust Mikhail to manage his part of the

  job, and to spend my energies doing mine. It is the hardest thing I have ever

  done in my life."

  "Trust?"

  "Do you trust Herm?"

  "I did, until a week ago."

  "No, Katherine, that is not what I mean. Do you think that your husband is a

  capable man, who can make decisions well?"

  "Yes, he is that. Actually, he is so sharp it's a wonder he doesn't cut himself,

  as we say on Renney. And he hasn't done things in the past to make me worry. No

  mistresses or fiddling with the account books. But he isn't the same man I

  married any longer."

  "Yes, he is. Herm is exactly the man you married, only now you are aware of a

  portion of him that you didn't imagine existed before. He is still a bit of a

  rascal, a charming fellow who cannot help being manipulative. No mistresses? He

  must love you very much."

  "As far as I know, he has been a paragon of faithfulness. Oh, I've seen him

  flirt occasionally, but it was usually with Senators from other planets, whom he

  wanted to vote a certain way." She paused for a moment. "My Nana said he was

  like a cattle trader, always looking for a good purchase, feeling up the legs

  and checking the teeth."

  "But did she think he was an honest trader?"

  "Umm, not entirely. She said he had a secret, and that it was probably a wife

  and six children here. I think I would have been relieved if that had turned out

  to be the case. Another wife I could deal with. The six children would have been

  a bit of trouble, I suppose." She chuckled softly over the idea. "I could have

  been a wicked stepmother, after I poisoned the other wife, and drove the

  children into exile or something."

  "Well, to be really truthful, Herm might indeed have some nedestro offspring up

  in the Hellers, although I think that Robert Aldaran or Gisela would probably

  have mentioned it to me if they knew of any. He was in his twenties when he left

  here, and likely he was not celibate. But it seems to me that you already knew

  he was concealing something from you, at some deep and almost instinctive

  level."

  "Nedestro. I know the word, but I never really thought about the ramifications

  of it. Hmm . . . I guess I did know something was going on. Oh, Marguerida, I

  know I am being difficult. And maybe after a few years I will adjust to

  Darkover. But right now, I just want to scream with frustration."

  "Go ahead. The walls of Comyn Castle have heard things over the centuries that

  would curl your hair. And do not hesitate to come to me when you are troubled,

  please. I want to help you."

  "Thank you. I'll try. But it isn't easy for me, because I am not a confiding

  sort of woman. Actually, except for my Nana, I haven't ever found the company of

  my sex very interesting, and I don't make friends easily. I love my husband and

  my children, but truthfully, I am more comfortable with my pigments and brushes

  than with most other people. Hmm . . . if what you suggested a few minutes ago

  is real, and I am extra empathetic, it would explain a great deal."

  Katherine looked at Marguerida for a moment after she stopped speaking, and

  realized that in time she might indeed become friends with her. It was a

  somewhat surprising realization, and it was followed by another-that her

  troubled sister-in-law had become another. Funny-two nights before Gisela would

  have been the last person she could imagine liking, but after their talk in the

  carriage, everything had changed. And now Herm was away on some mysterious

  errand, leaving her alone among strangers. That most of them were relatives of

  some kind made the whole thing even more difficult. She had better just stop

  fretting and start learning how to cope with Darkover! Kate had her children
to

  think of, didn't she?

  "I feel the same way about music. And I will take your words as a hint to go

  away and let you get on with what you are doing. I won't press you any further."

  She wanted to ask questions about Amedi Korniel, but decided that it would keep

  for the present. "Well, I do have a favor to ask you-two, really."

  "What is it?"

  "My son Roderick shows a certain talent for drawing-at least when he gets bored

  and can't think of any mischief to get into, he takes colored chalks and puts

  them on any wall he likes. They are rather pretty, even though I cannot allow

  them to remain. Could you bring yourself to tutor him a bit?"

  "I would be happy to. And the other favor?"

  "Do you think you might ask Gisela to sit for a portrait? I know you did not get

  off to a good start, but she is so unhappy, and I believe it would please her."

  Katherine gave Marguerida a bemused look, with something secretive but not

  unpleasant in it. "She would make an excellent subject," was all the answer she

  gave, but her dark eyes glinted with interest.

  "Fine. And now I will leave you to work. I will see you later in the day."

  Marguerida was rather puzzled as she left Katherine's studio. But she was

  satisfied that she had eased some of Kate's fears, and let the matter go from

  her mind. She had not gone ten feet down the corridor before all her own

  concerns rushed back. Katherine had distracted her for a brief while, and she

  realized that she had gotten as much relief from the visit as she had given. She

  had to wait, to be patient. It was very hard to be a middle-aged woman with

  duties, when she really wanted to rush off and do something-anything! And then

  the grief returned, as if it had been waiting to capture her emotions once more.

  "Damn you for dying, Regis. Your timing was off for once," she muttered, and

  felt her eyes go blurry with fresh tears.

  Katherine did not return to her sketching after Marguerida left, but sat and

  stared out the window, thinking about what had been said in a disordered sort of

  way. Her mind was tired and she knew that she could not make sense of anything

  right away, which irritated her greatly. Talk to Ida Davidson, Marguerida had

  said. It sounded simple and sensible, but Kate was not sure she could just walk

  up to a total stranger and voice her concerns. No, she would wait for a while

  and see what happened. But it was good to know that she was not the only

  inhabitant of Comyn Castle who was frustrated and angry.

  For a time she considered the matter of empathy. That was a normal human trait,

  wasn't it? And yet on Darkover it seemed to be something more-one of these Gifts

  that people kept mentioning. She could endure being empathic, she supposed.

  Marguerida's explanation sounded plausible at least.

  When another knock came at the door, she could not decide whether she was glad

  or annoyed at a further distraction. "Come in."

  It was Gisela, looking a little shy and wary of her welcome. She was wearing a

  russet tunic and darker skirt, not dissimilar from the clothing she had brought

  Katherine the previous day. "Hello. Am I interrupting you terribly?"

  "Not at all. I was just woolgathering." Had Marguerida told Gisela to come so

  quickly? Katherine was not ready to start a portrait yet-she would require

  something for the model to sit on, and there was only the stool-but she could

  make a few sketches.

  "Good." Gisela looked her up and down. "Kate, why are you wearing a riding

  skirt?"

  "Is that what this is?" Kate tugged at the folds of her lower garment. "I was

  looking for something comfortable, that wouldn't show the dirt. Is it improper?"

  "No, not exactly, but it looks rather eccentric with an apron!" She gave a

  little giggle, then sobered. "I hardly slept last night."

  "I am sorry about that."

  "Don't be! I was thinking about what you said in the carriage and I was just too

  excited to close my eyes until nearly dawn. Are you well, Kate? You look like

  you did not get much more sleep than I did."

  "Yes, I am fine." Katherine repressed a yearning to talk to Gisela about Herm.

  She liked her new sister-in-law, but she was not yet sure how trustworthy she

  was. "It is just taking me a while to get adjusted to Darkover, I think."

  "You seem worried."

  "Do I?"

  "Still fussing about people poking into your mind?"

  "Yes, a little, I suppose." With a slight start, Katherine realized she had

  managed to go for nearly half an hour without thinking about that problem at

  all. How unkind of Giz to remind her of it.

  "Well, don't." She hesitated again, shuffling her feet back and forth under her

  long skirts. "Can I show you something?"

  Katherine looked at her, and now she noticed that she could sense something of

  the mood of the other woman. It was very odd, and she felt very uncomfortable

  for a moment. But all that she could feel was excitement in Gisela, with none of

  the other darker emotions Kate now realized she had noticed on the previous day.

  How much, she wondered, of this sort of thing had she refused to acknowledge

  over the years? Maybe Marguerida was right. "Certainly, as long as it is not

  something horrid."

  Gisela looked stricken and shook her head. "Kate, I swear to you that I will

  never do anything mean again! I want you to be my friend! I need you to be my

  friend!" Tears glistened in the vivid green eyes and she trembled.

  Katherine set aside her sketchpad and stood up slowly, moved and just a little

  frightened by this outburst. Then she crossed the space separating them and put

  her arm around Gisela's shoulders. She could smell the faint scent of lavender

  in the cloth and some perfume as well. "There, there. Don't cry, dear.

  Marguerida just asked me to do your portrait," she added, frantically trying to

  think of some way to stem the wave of despair that was wracking her

  sister-in-law and grasping at the first thing that came to mind.

  "Really? And did you tell her you already asked me to sit for you?"

  "No, I didn't. She thought it would please you, and I didn't wish to . . ."

  Gisela straightened against her. "That was very kind of her, wasn't it? After

  everything?"

  "I think that Marguerida is probably a very kind person, Gisela, and genuinely

  wants everyone around her to be happy."

  Gisela wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. "She hasn't had much luck with me,

  has she?" There was a rueful tone to her voice. "Do you know how much time I

  have wasted hating her?"

  "No, and I really don't want to."

  "Good-because it makes me very ashamed. And I don't like that at all." She

  sighed, shrugged her shoulders under Kate's light embrace, then made a comical

  face. "You see before you a reformed Aldaran."

  Impulsively, Kate took Gisela's chin in her hand, looked intently into her face,

  and said, "Yes, I can see the virtue almost seeping from your pores."

  To her delight, Gisela giggled. "There is not another person, even Rafael, I

  would let tease me like that, dearest sister. Somehow, from you, it does not

  hurt."

  "I am glad of that. Now, you were going to show me something." Katherine

&nbsp
; released Gisela, finding that she was not entirely at ease with the intimacy of

  contact. Is this why I paint portraits then, to be close but not too close?

  Gisela plunged her hand into her beltpouch and took out a small object. "It was

  in my jewelry box, and I remembered it when I was getting dressed this morning."

  She opened her hand. A little figure, about six inches in length, lay across her

  palm. The wood was dark with age, and the carving was crude, but it was powerful

  nonetheless. "It is the last thing I made before my nurse . . . made me stop."

  Kate took the small figure and turned it over. She noticed how Gisela had used

  the grain of the wood to good advantage, only removing enough to suggest folds

  of cloth below, and a face above that was simple but moving. On the back of the

  carving, there was still some bark left, rough and dark. She could see the marks

  left by some crude instrument, not a carver's chisel but something less deft.

  One of the belt knives that everyone seemed to wear, Kate suspected, and not a

  very good tool for the job demanded of it.

  "I don't think you need to worry much about being good, Giz. Any sculptor I know

  would have been pleased to make this."

  "Thank you."

  "Will you tell me something now?"

  "Anything."

  "Why did you come to me yesterday?"

  "Oh, that."

  "Yes, that."

  "I . . . don't know, not really. I was ready to hate you, and after I saw you

  the first time, it got worse. And then, at dinner, when Danilo Syrtis-Ardais

  took me to task, because he took one look at you in your Terranan finery and

  knew exactly what had happened, I suddenly realized that I was behaving like a

  fool-that I didn't need to have you for an enemy." She shivered slightly. "It

  didn't cross my mind, when Rafael came back from the spaceport with all of you,

  that you could even want to be my friend, because I never imagined anyone would

  want that. I always wanted a sister, you know. But I had ruined things for

  myself with Marguerida, and here I was, starting off to mess everything up with

  you. So-I took a risk. I was scared to death, but I knew if I didn't at least

  try, I would regret it for the rest of my life."

  "I am glad you did, Gisela. I have several sisters, but they are halfway across

  the galaxy, and I expect I will never see them again now. You were very brave."