learn to advise Mikhail as I have done for Regis for all these years. It is one
of the more interesting duties of the paxman, you know." He grinned wryly, but
his eyes were filled with memory and sorrow. "You are even permitted to offer
unpleasant thoughts to Mikhail, without fear of censure."
"That's right, Donal," Mikhail said. "I remember a night, right here in this
room, over sixteen years ago, when Danilo told my uncle that he must abandon any
hope of me marrying Gisela Aldaran. He did not like it, but he took it well
enough." Mikhail and Danilo both chuckled at the memory. "Go on."
Instead of speaking, Donal reached into his beltpouch and took out a folded
piece of very thin paper. He opened it out and laid it on the desk in front of
Mikhail, smoothing it carefully. "I traced this out last evening, using one of
the old maps that the Terranan did years ago, and another that Rafaella gave to
Domna Marguerida."
"Why did you use two?" Dani wondered.
"The map from the Terranan is what is called a contour map, which means it shows
the shape of the land, but does not have a lot of information about towns and
farms. It is pretty old, but since the land remains the same, it should still be
accurate."
"It must be something done from one of their geosynchronous satellites, when
they could get the infernal things to function," Scott suggested. "It used to
drive their people almost mad, for just when they got one up and running, they
would have peculiar failures, and go off-line again. It gave me a poor notion of
their technology at first. But someone explained to me that our sun gives off a
strange radiation that bolluxes up the readings or something. Personally, I
think Aldones doesn't want strangers taking pictures of Darkover."
Everyone chuckled at this, except Donal, who remained serious.
"I don't know about that. The Federation thing shows how the ground rises and
falls, and I made the best copy I could. Then I took Rafaella's map, which is
just a sketch of things along the Old North Road, and added that information to
the first one. By using both, we can look at the landmarks and such, but also
can see more about the terrain." He pointed at one section. "For instance, here
Rafaella marked a big farm, a small village, and suggested the shape of the
road. But on the Terranan map, you can see how the farm is spread over several
hills, that the land rises and falls, and that the road winds in a slightly
different manner than she drew. I just thought it would be useful to us to look
for places where an ambush might be possible. And there are a couple that I
found."
Scott stood up and looked at the map from his side of the desk. "The places
marked in red, Donal?"
"Yes, sir."
"You are right. Those are logical places for an ambush."
"I thought that perhaps we could . . . put some of the Guardsmen in ordinary
clothing, a few of them, and send them ahead to scout out things," Donal said.
"I mean, why should we go into this with only Nico and Herm and Rafaella's
Renunciates? Let's outguess the Terrans, and spike their plans." His young face
was fierce now.
"That is a clever idea, Donal," Danilo said, his voice warm with approval. "And
do you have any suggestions as to who these men might be?"
"I made a list." Donal pulled another piece of paper out of his pouch, rather
wrinkled, and with a great many crosscuts, and offered it to Mikhail. "I would
have consulted Commandant Ridenow, but I thought I had better not, since it
would raise questions and get back to Francisco. And after I could not think of
a way to get any of the Guards from the barracks assigned, it struck me that
there are a lot of loyal older men, no longer on active duty, who are living in
Thendara right now. I picked men who have had experience fighting bandits, who
are seasoned and smart as well, and whose absence would not cause comment."
Danilo stood up, circled the desk, and leaned over Mikhail's shoulder. "These
are good choices, for the most part. The only problem I can foresee is how to do
this in secrecy."
"Are you afraid of Terranan spies, Uncle Danilo?" Dani Hastur asked, "Or are you
worried about some members of the Council getting wind of what's happening?"
"Both, Dani. These men have families, and if they say anything, it will be
gossip in an hour. You were wise not to talk to the Commandant, Donal."
"I knew that Cisco would tell his father something was up, and then Grandmother
Javanne would hear of it, and then the fat would have been in the fire." He
spoke simply but with great feeling.
"Your discretion does you credit, Donal."
The young paxman grinned broadly. "I learned that from watching Lew all these
years."
"Did you now?" Lew was pleased and amused.
"When I was ten, you told me that information was the real power in the world,
not kings and Domains. I have tried to remember the lesson. And when I was
chosen to be paxman to Mikhail, I watched how Danilo was with Regis, how he
listened more than he talked, but always seemed to know everything."
"You have all the makings of a fine advisor," Rafe Scott praised.
Danilo Syrtis-Ardais stood up. "I think that I can accomplish what needs to be
done without arousing too much talk. I can think of a few additions to make to
Donal's list, but for the most part, it will do very well indeed. And, just to
muddy the waters a bit, I think I will suggest to Cisco that he go over the
reserve list."
"Why that?"
"It will give him something to do, for one thing, and we may find we need to
have those men mobilized, if the Terranan continue to misbehave in the Trade
City."
"Danilo," said Lew in admiration, "I am very glad you are on our side, and not
theirs."
"Make it so," Mikhail said quietly. "Now all we need to do is decide what, if
anything, we are going to tell the Council, and when."
"That is the sticky point, isn't it?" Lew answered. "The funeral is planned for
three days from now, so I suggest you delay any meeting until the day before
that. You know that Javanne is going to try to overset you, and that she has at
least two allies on the Council-Francisco and Lady Marilla Aillard. She has not
budged an inch over the years."
"You are right, Lew." Mikhail looked sad at this. He had managed to reconcile
with his father, Dom Gabriel, but his mother remained adamant in her refusal to
accept the agreement that had been worked out fifteen years before, where Danilo
Hastur became the Elhalyn Regent, and Mikhail was Regis' heir designate. It was
her ruling obsession, a kind of blind fury that drove her to bouts of near
madness. Had she been anyone other than the sister of Regis Hastur, and the wife
of Dom Gabriel, she would have been confined long since.
"I spoke to her this morning," Dani said. "I found her in the dining room with
Mother, insisting that . . . It was a very distressing encounter. And Mother was
ready to collapse. It made me wish I were a more forceful person."
"What happened?"
"As soon as she saw me, Aunt Javanne became very . . . friendly. It made my skin
crawl. She told me that she was sure that wiser heads would prevail, and I would
be made to take Mikhail's place. I could tell she meant herself when she said
wiser heads, and I tried to explain to her that I did not want to govern
Darkover, that I wouldn't have the job for all the gold in Carthanon. She didn't
listen, but at least it gave Mother a chance to escape back to her rooms." He
frowned. "She said I must not think of myself so much, but should consider my
heritage and that of my children. Do you know, I think she imagines that if she
cannot twist me to her will, she will go after Gareth! Forgive me. I have said
too much." He looked stricken and miserable.
"My poor mother thinks that she is the wisest woman on Darkover, and also
imagines that she will live forever. The temptation to give her a powerful
sleeping draught is almost irresistable."
"That might not be a bad idea," Lew said, completely seriously, and found
himself the object of five pairs of startled eyes. Then everyone realized he was
teasing them, and a chuckle came from Mikhail, followed by an eruption of
laughter in the room. It eased the tension, and everyone began to relax
slightly.
"It would be a wonderful thing if my mother were unable to be present at the
Council meeting, wouldn't it?" Mikhail looked almost happy for the first time in
several days.
"Yes, wonderful. And quite scandalous," Danilo murmured, his pale eyes alight
with merriment. "Unthinkable," he added.
"If I find Aunt Javanne troubling my mother again, it will not be in the least
unthinkable, Danilo. I'll put enough sleepweed in her soup to keep her dead to
the world for a tenday!"
"We will have to hope it will not come to that, Dani," Mikhail answered.
"Besides, I think you would have to get in line for the honor."
He looked from one face to the other, and what he saw seemed to satisfy him. "I
think we have accomplished as much as we can at present, until we get further
information."
There was a scraping of chairs at this dismissal, and everyone except Lew and
Mikhail stood up to leave. When they were gone, Mikhail looked at the older man.
"Was there something else?"
"Yes, there is. I believe that you should include your brother Rafael in any
further discussions."
"But . . ."
"He has never been disloyal to you, Mikhail, and you know it. Yes, you have
suspicions of his wife, for her scheming when they were first married. But you
need him, and I think that he has been punished more than enough for her
actions. She hasn't really caused any problems for several years now, and I
don't expect her create any now." Lew sighed and shook his head. "We distrust
her because she is an Aldaran, but how long must she be forced to . . . Mik, it
has to stop somewhere! We can't continue to nourish wounds from the past, not
when we have so many problems in the present!"
"What Regis did, keeping her and Rafael here as hostages, wasn't really right,
was it?"
"I don't know any longer, son. There was a kind of logic in it, at the time, but
that time is past. It certainly was not kind! I have no wish to dishonor the
memory of a man I loved and valued as a friend, but some of the decisions Regis
made in the last fifteen years were extreme, and both of us know it!"
Mikhail nodded. "I have always been torn between my loyalty to Regis and my
affection for Rafael. He had never done me ill."
"Mikhail, if you are going to rule Darkover, you have to begin making your own
decisions, not keeping to the policies that your uncle put into place. I don't
want to influence you against your own judgment, no matter what your mother
believes, but I do wish to advise you as well as I am able. And truthfully, if I
had to choose between Gisela and Javanne right now, I would take your
sister-in-law in a moment! Something has changed for her-I have no idea what-but
she suddenly seems almost happy instead of restless and dissatisfied."
Mikhail shrugged. "All that might mean is that she intends to return to her
earlier insistence that Rafael would be a suitable person to take my place."
"That is certainly a possibility, of course, but if it is, what better way to
interfere with her plans than by bringing Rafael close to you? No matter how
much he cares for his wife, your brother would never act against you,
particularly if you mend your fences with him."
"How fortunate I am to have you for an advisor, even when you tell me to do
difficult things that I would rather avoid. I am so ashamed of how Rafael has
been treated, not just by Regis, but by me as well."
"I understand. But, Mikhail, you are a wise and decent man, and a stronger one
than I think you realize just now. And one thing that separates the strong from
the weak is the ability to admit fault, ask forgiveness, and get on with life."
"Have you ever . . . ?"
"Yes, of course I have. Don't you think that the way I denied Marguerida any
real knowledge of her childhood does not make me cringe with shame? She was
generous enough to forgive me, and then to trust me again. I think that is a
miracle."
"Yes, I suppose it is, but my wife has a very big heart-or otherwise we would
never have ended up fostering Alanna, would we?"
"Go to your brother and make peace, Mikhail. I don't think you will ever regret
it."
"Will he forgive me, do you think?"
Lew smiled. "Of course, Mikhail. If he does not welcome you with open arms, I
will be very surprised."
"Do you know, I have wanted to approach him many times over the years, and more
in the past few days. But I was afraid to risk it. Thank you for . . . for
everything."
"There is nothing to thank me for, son. I have nothing but your best interests
in mind . . . and heart."
"No matter what my mother believes?"
"No matter what anyone thinks or believes or imagines, Mikhail."
Mikhail took a deep breath and knocked on the door of the suite where his
brother and sister-in-law lived. Then he opened it and entered. Gisela was
sitting at a small table, looking at a little carving, her brows knit together,
and Rafael was reading a book. They both looked at him, and the woman shrank
back a little, her green eyes bright with wariness.
"Good afternoon," Mikhail said quietly.
"This is an unexpected pleasure," Rafael answered, smiling slightly. "You have
been so busy the past few days."
Mikhail felt the strain between them. It made his heart ache, and he wondered if
he had a way to mend the inadvertent injury that Regis' choices and Gisela's
mischiefs had brought about. "Yes, I have been, and I would rather have not."
"Have you come about Hermes?"
"Why do you ask that, Giz?"
"I don't know, really. I was visiting Katherine a little while ago, and she
seemed . . . worried about something. I just assumed it was about Herm, because
she is so devoted to him." There was nothing in her look or voice except genuine
interest. Lew was right-there was something different about Gisela. He had not
seen her so relaxed since she had been a girl, when they had fir
st met. No, not
even then, because she was always tense, waiting for one of Dom Damon's frequent
outbursts of temper.
"Well, you are right. Did she tell you that Belfontaine wants him given over to
the Federation?"
Gisela looked alarmed. "No, she did not, and I don't think she knows that
either! My dear brother! He hasn't changed a bit in twenty years. I'll bet he
didn't tell her. Where is he?"
Mikhail considered before he spoke. "He felt it would be better for everyone if
he were not in Comyn Castle at present, so I sent him ahead to oversee
preparations at the rhu fead." It was the best he could think of at the moment.
Gisela fixed him with a penetrating look, more like her usual self. "I'll wager
he wanted to be away when our father appears-a pity I could not go with him!"
"That may have been part of the reason he took the task, yes," Mikhail agreed.
"You did not come to discuss Herm, did you, Mik?" Rafael said.
"No, I didn't. I came to beg your pardon."
"My . . ."
"Rafael, the past is past. I cannot have you sitting around the Castle twiddling
your thumbs, looking disgruntled."
"Do you want me to leave, then?"
"Certainly not! I am going to need you now, to advise me, to listen to me when I
have a problem. I have missed your good sense terribly-and more, your company,
bredu."
At Mikhail's statement, Rafael seemed to hold his breath. "I have waited a long
time to hear that word from you, Mik."
"I should never have let Regis . . ."
"You could not have changed his mind about my trustworthiness, Mik, and we both
know it."
"That does not change the fact that I regret it very much."
"As you said, the past is past, bredu." Rafael walked across and embraced his
brother firmly. Over his shoulder, Mikhail could see that his sister-in-law was
smiling and that tears were falling from her green eyes. There was no
calculation in her expression, just relief and joy.
As Mikhail hugged his older brother, he felt a knot of tension in his belly
uncoil. Yes, he needed Rafael, but more, he loved the man, and was glad that he
could now have him and his counsel close by. And he knew he was forgiven for the
years of estrangement, for Rafael had a great heart with nothing petty in it.
And that, he decided, was a gift that outweighed anything else.