Traitor's Sun

  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