from the grasp of Ashara Alton. And he had succeeded in that. Mikhail just
wished the ring could have gone to someone else, someone stronger than he felt
himself to be-or been taken out of play entirely. It was a burden, one he had
undertaken willingly but without really understanding the problems it would
create.
He had gained a great power, for healing and, he knew, for destruction as well,
but it had cost him the unquestioned trust of his uncle, and the friendship of
several people he valued. Lady Marilla Aillard, who had been like a mother to
him while he was Dyan Ardais' paxman, had chosen to side with Javanne and Dom
Francisco, insisting that Mikhail was just too powerful to be trusted. The
estrangement grieved him greatly, and he wondered if he could ever put it to
rights. Worse, it had put his lifelong friend, her son, Dyan Ardais, in a most
uncomfortable position, and the strain of that had made it hard for both of
them. But he knew he could count on Dyan to remain loyal to him, and he silently
numbered his allies, to reassure himself a little.
For years now the walls of the Crystal Chamber had echoed with argument-most of
it concerning Mikhail and his place as Regis' designated heir. His uncle had
been less and less able to control the Council, and the deteriorating situation
had added to his growing sense of unease. Even though Mikhail had never done
anything to threaten Regis' rule, the fact that he possessed the power to do so
had disturbed his uncle's peace of mind. No one seemed to be able to grasp the
actuality of his power except himself, Marguerida, and Istvana Ridenow. And
neither words of assurance nor promises could convince his foes on the Council
that he was no threat to any of them.
Mikhail indulged himself briefly in the sense of being misunderstood. People,
Lew Alton had frequently informed him, always judged others by what they
themselves would do. His mother and Francisco craved power, and so they believed
he must as well.
So many harsh words had been said in the Crystal Chamber, and between the two
generations there now stood an abyss of bad feeling that he feared would turn
into vicious and potentially bloody infighting once the presence of the
Federation was removed. Would they fall into civil war, as had happened in the
past? The thought that he might be responsible for such an event, that his
mother and Dom Francisco might take up arms against him, was very nearly
intolerable. And although he had never tested the powers of his matrix to their
fullest, he had the sinking certainty that he could use it to destroy his
enemies, if he were forced.
He had never challenged Regis' authority by discovering all that his matrix was
capable of. Instead he had trod a cautious and narrow path, careful never to
cause his increasingly anxious uncle to feel threatened, while at the same time
trying to retain his own self-respect. Now he was starting to understand the
toll this interior conflict had taken on him, and he wondered if he were really
up to the task of ruling Darkover. He had almost forgotten how to be forceful,
and desperately wished he could reclaim his younger and less doubtful self. And
he must, if Darkover were going to survive!
The years had not been wasted. Studying with Istvana Ridenow he had learned the
vast healing capacities of his matrix. This had given Mikhail a deep
satisfaction until he had been unable to save Regis. He knew of the remarkable
tasks Varzil Ridenow had accomplished with the aid of the matrix, and suspected
that he could do similar things. He still wondered how the man had transformed
Lake Hali from a poisonous sink into its present peculiar condition. The
knowledge of how to effect that change in energies, if it actually was possible,
had not made itself known to Mikhail. But he knew that it meant that destruction
was possible, even in a healing, and the idea did not make him rest easy. The
sense that he might have to test the limits of his own powers in the near future
was not a happy prospect.
Mikhail helped Marguerida into her chair, then took his place beside her. Donal
put a goblet of cider beside his left hand, his young face calm and reassuring.
He wished he could share his nephew's apparent serenity. Now, all he had to do
was live up to his young paxman's excellent opinion of him. Oddly, this thought
bolstered him and eased his endless doubts. He remembered how Donal had said
that he had studied Danilo Syrtis-Ardais and made him a model for himself. That
was very wise, for Danilo always seemed to be calm. Even when others lifted
their voices, he never shouted or banged the table in rage. Perhaps he could do
that as well.
Mikhail glanced at his mother's face, then at Dom Damon's, and realized it would
be more difficult to keep his temper than he would have wished. They were both
ready for a fight. His father, Dom Gabriel, was looking old and tired, and
Mikhail suspected that Javanne had been driving the old man mad with her schemes
and plots. At least he knew he could count on his father, no matter what his
mother said in her rage.
Lew and Danilo Syrtis-Ardais entered the chamber together, followed quickly by
Dani Hastur with his wife, Miralys Elhalyn-Hastur, on his arm. The pretty girl
who had briefly been his ward sixteen years before had turned into a stunningly
beautiful woman, confident and serene where she had once been shy and fearful.
She was pregnant for a third time, and her skin glowed with the health and vigor
of her condition. Marriage to Dani clearly agreed with her, as being Underkeeper
at Arilinn agreed with her younger sister Valenta. It gladdened him to know that
at least some of the people in the room were happy, and he rather wished Valenta
were present as well. She was a fearless woman, tart-tongued, and utterly
unintimidated by Javanne. But she was needed at the Tower, to oversee the relays
for the present, and, he prayed, to prevent any of the Traveler troupes from
causing more trouble.
Mikhail's brother Rafael helped his mother into a chair, and then took the one
between them. Javanne gave her middle son a dark look, as if questioning his
presence in the Crystal Chamber after so many years of absence. It felt very
good to have Rafael between them, although he knew it would not protect him from
Javanne's ire. Then he noticed that Dom Damon was staring at Rafael, and that he
seemed none too pleased to find him there.
Mikhail was wondering why Dom Damon was looking daggers at his son-in-law when
Marguerida placed her matrixed left hand over his engloved right one, and gave
it a quick squeeze. The quiet gesture reassured him more than it had any
business to. More people entered the room. Dom Francisco took the seat beside
Javanne Hastur, and Lady Marilla sat on his other side. Dyan Ardais hesitated,
and then sat down in one of the chairs which ordinarily would have been occupied
by leroni from the Towers, putting a space between himself and his mother on one
side, and the Alton seat on the other, already occupied by Dom Gabriel.
Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, who ordinarily sat where Rafael was now positioned, took
&
nbsp; the situation in with a swift glance, and placed himself on Marguerida's other
side, with Dani and Miralys beside him. Dom Damon and Robert Aldaran took places
between Dyan Ardais and Dom Gabriel, with several chairs left untenanted on
either side of them, isolating them a little. The table could seat thirty
without crowding, but the Keepers from the various Towers who would have been
present if it were Midsummer were not there. Lady Linnea had excused herself,
pleading her grief.
Mikhail knew it was something more-a desire to avoid Javanne Hastur which he
shared with her.
"Are we going to sit here like stones," growled Dom Damon, "or get this
foolishness over and done with."
"Father," Robert warned gruffly.
The elder Aldaran glared at his son. "What? We all know what we are going to
say-it has been said here so often that I could likely recite to you the very
words that will be spoken!" He glared around the table, daring anyone to
challenge him, and looked very disappointed when no one did.
"Dom Damon is right," Francisco Ridenow began. "We have said everything, time
and time again." He looked as if the words were sour in his mouth, for to agree
with an Aldaran on any matter, even the weather, did not please him. "But I
suppose we will have to go through the whole thing for form's sake."
Mikhail knew he must take charge of the meeting before it disintegrated into the
all too familiar baiting and name calling that had become expected procedure at
Council meetings. The lassitude in his limbs, and a certain fuzziness in his
mind, almost overwhelmed him for a moment. Maybe Javanne was right-that in spite
of his laran-founded power, he was not really capable of governing Darkover.
But, if not him, then who? Dani was out of the question, no matter what his
mother imagined, and Nico was too young. He had prepared for this responsibility
in his life, and it was not fair that now he had the task, he felt unequal to
it.
Then Lew Alton sat down next to Dom Gabriel. He gave Mikhail a look that seemed
to mirror his own doubts and fears. Lew nodded at him, and suddenly the
weariness that was crippling him vanished. His mind cleared completely, and if
he had not known that it was almost impossible to use laran in the chamber, he
would have thought that his father-in-law had somehow managed to use forced
rapport to good effect on his flagging spirits.
"There is actually a great deal of new business to consider, and I hope we will
be able to avoid our usual petty bickering," Mikhail began calmly, trying to
imitate Danilo as he had planned a few minutes earlier. He saw his mother's
cheeks redden at this remark, and knew he had scored a small hit. It was rather
shameful how much pleasure he got from this little victory, so he put it out of
his mind completely.
"First, I think everyone is already aware that the Terranan are planning to
withdraw from Darkover in the very near future. While I realize that this will
please some of us here, I believe that is a short-sighted way to look at it.
When the Federation leaves, it will not evaporate, and it will not likely forget
that Darkover exists. I realize that some of you imagine that will be the
outcome, but you are wrong!"
"What do you mean, Mikhail," Lady Marilla asked in her soft voice.
"I mean that they will still have the capacity to return, hostilely if they
should choose. If there are no treaties or agreements to honor, then they might
feel free to do almost anything." He did not catalog the many possibilities-it
was better to let their imaginations supply them.
"But why would they want to do that?" she said in a puzzled tone.
"Because they can, domna," Lew growled. "The Federation we are now facing is not
the same one which came to Darkover during the time of Lorin Hastur, and we
should not delude ourselves that it is."
"Yes, yes-you have been saying something of that sort for years, Lew," snapped
Lady Javanne "you old storm crow. I, for one, have never put much credence in
it, and I do not believe you now."
"That is your privilege, Javanne, and I hope that you will never see Armida
occupied by Federation forces."
"I do not frighten easily," she answered, yet she appeared uncertain to
Mikhail's eye.
"Just a moment," Francisco Ridenow said before anyone else could speak. "We have
not yet chosen a new head of the Comyn Council, and I think we should, before we
begin any actual business. I nominate Danilo Hastur and . . ."
"Do you think you are in a democracy?" Lew interrupted sharply. "As Regis'
chosen heir, Mikhail is head of the Council, and we need not waste any time
discussing the matter."
Francisco gave Javanne a sidelong glance, and then went on as if Lew had not
spoken. "I do not agree. Just because you have always assumed you would take
Regis' place, Mikhail, does not mean that you will. The succession has not been
decided. Therefore I propose we should select Danilo Hastur to be the new head
of Comyn Council, because he is the most legitimate person to lead us."
Dani, who was ordinarily the quietest of men, turned an unlovely shade of red,
and banged his fist on the table. "How dare you suggest such a thing-you
maggot!" Then he rounded on his aunt Javanne, finally ready to let all the
grievances of the past few days find an outlet. "This is your doing, and I will
not be party to it! You are a selfish, interfering old woman, and it is just a
shame that you did not die in my father's place! If you think you can manipulate
me, think again. I want nothing to do with you, or with your filthy plans to run
Darkover to suit yourself."
There was a shocked silence around the table at this outburst, although Miralys
appeared quite pleased with her husband, and Lew Alton was having difficulty not
laughing out loud at Javanne's discomfort. That redoubtable woman recovered
quickly, however, the two spots of red on her cheeks fading as she got control
of herself.
"You are just overwrought over your father's death, and do not know what you are
saying," she answered, quite calmly under the circumstances.
"Is there nothing that will prick the bubble of your vanity, Aunt? You disgust
me. My father was barely laid out before you started in with your vile
suggestions that I renege on my sworn . . ."
"You were only a boy when you made the decision to resign as Regis' heir, and
you did not know what you were doing. And now you must allow wiser and older
heads to guide you," Javanne insisted.
"Go to Zandru's coldest hell," snarled Dani, his face losing all color. "You are
the last person I would wish to guide me."
Dom Gabriel looked ready to burst, and Mikhail decided that he had to intervene.
He managed to catch his father's eye, and watched him subside with an enormous
effort.
"The matter was settled sixteen years ago, Mother, and you cannot change it. I
regret that the idea of my following in Regis' footsteps causes you such grief,
but that is how it must be. I have no intention of resigning, and Dani has none
of taking my place." Mikhail was surprised by the steadiness of his own vo
ice,
and rather pleased with himself.
"You are not fit to . . ." Javanne sputtered.
"That is quite enough," Marguerida announced. "We will accomplish nothing by
bickering with one another."
"You cannot silence me, Marguerida."
"Oh, but I can, and I will if you continue to be a nuisance!"
"A nuisance!" Javanne gasped. "How dare you!"
"You mean less to me than a gnat," Marguerida replied tartly, paying off years
of old scores in only a few words.
This was too much of a strain for Lew Alton, and he tried to conceal his
laughter by pretending to have a fit of coughing. But above the hand he lifted
to cover his mouth, Mikhail could see his father-in-law's eyes sparkle with
amusement, and only wished he could permit himself to openly enjoy the moment.
Even Dom Gabriel looked less like a thundercloud, and he cast Marguerida a
veiled look of approval.
Mikhail drew a long breath and said, "We are not here to debate who will rule
Darkover in the future. If anyone imagines that they have the right to do that,
they are quite wrong." He could feel himself choosing words as Danilo would
have, as if the mantle of his uncle's paxman was somehow protecting him. "The
problem that confronts us is that the Federation is departing. Yes, I know that
some of you do not perceive this as a problem-but you lack all the facts."
Mikhail caught the look on Danilo's face out of the corner of his eye as he
continued, and was silently amused.
"What facts have you withheld from us, then?" Lady Marilla asked, her voice
wary.
"I resent the implication, Lady Marilla, but I am going to ignore it. You all
know that the Federation is planning to pull out in a few weeks' time, but you
do not understand the reason. The legislature, which Lew and Herm served in, has
been disbanded-and that changes everything!"
"What does that have to do with Darkover?" Dom Damon seemed genuinely puzzled.
"As the Comyn Council acts as an advisory body to the ruler of Darkover, so the
legislature held the leader of the Federation in check," Lew said, as if
speaking to a child, and a dull one at that. "Without that restraint, the
Premier can do just about anything-and from what we have been able to learn, she
is running the Federation by decree at present. That is tyranny, pure and