plain!"
"I repeat-what does that have to do with Darkover," Dom Damon growled, glaring
fiercely at Lew.
"I protest!" Dom Francisco banged his fist on the table, his pale cheeks flushed
with anger. "We have not settled the matter of who is head of the Comyn Council,
and until we do, everything else is . . ."
At that moment there was the sound of footsteps, and Gareth Elhalyn entered. He
looked around as those with their backs to the door turned to look toward him,
and smiled. "What are you doing here?" his father asked.
"He is here at my invitation," Javanne answered before Gareth could speak. Her
eyes were glittering with pleasure, and there was a smug expression on her face.
Mikhail thought that if she had been a cat, there would have been feathers
poking out of her taut mouth.
"Of all the . . ." Danilo began.
"He has no business here, since he has not even been named Dani's heir as yet,"
snapped Dom Gabriel, favoring his wife with a furious look. "What are you doing,
woman?"
"Sit down, Gareth," Javanne went on, as if no one had spoken. She waved at the
vacant chairs. The lad looked somewhat uneasy now, his handsome face doubtful,
but he sat down beside his mother, in between her and Lew Alton. "I have arrived
at an obvious conclusion, which I cannot understand why no one else has seen."
She looked around the table with a slight sneer, as if everyone except herself
was stupid.
"And what might that be, cousin," Lew Alton asked with a kind of silky insolence
that never failed to annoy Javanne.
"Since Mikhail is clearly too powerful to be allowed to rule Darkover, and since
his oldest son is nedestro, and Dani refuses to do his duty, then we must agree
that the rightful ruler will be Gareth Elhalyn-and all we need to do is appoint
someone to be regent for him until he reaches adulthood." She paused, and looked
less confident. "I think that Dom Francisco . . ."
"This is outrageous!" Gabriel Lanart-Alton's booming voice echoed off the great
trap matrixes in the ceiling. "Gareth's life would not be worth a sekal with
Francisco as regent!"
This pronouncement was followed by a stunned silence, since Dom Gabriel had
voiced the unspeakable. Aware that he was now the center of attention, the old
man continued. "I apologize for my wife's unseemly behavior-I was unaware of her
plan until now, or I would have put a stop to her nonsense! Believe me, son,
none of this is my doing." He looked tired and ashamed.
"I never imagined that it was," Mikhail answered calmly, reminding himself not
to allow his temper to flare. "I think it would be best, and least embarrassing,
if Gareth left now, since he has no right to be present."
"You stole my place, and I want it back," Gareth announced, glaring at Mikhail.
"You are much too young to understand, Gareth," Dani began quietly. "Mikhail is
correct-you should not be present."
"No wonder he got you to give up the Hastur legacy! You are spineless, Father,
and everyone knows it!" Gareth sneered at Dani as he spoke, leaning forward a
little to see around his mother.
Miralys grabbed his golden locks in a firm grip and pulled his head back against
the chair. There was an audible thump. "How dare you speak to your father like
that." She slapped his face with her free hand. "Now get on your feet and get
out of here, before I have the Guards drag you away! I have never been so
ashamed in my life!"
Fighting back tears, the boy stood up. "I will have my rightful place, and no
one is going to stop me. I will be king!" He turned on his heel and almost ran
toward the door, cursing under his breath. "Damn you, Javanne Hastur-you
promised me!"
Miralys and Mikhail exchanged a brief glance, and the woman bit her lower lip to
keep from exclaiming. They had both heard those words before, from Vincent
Elhalyn, her brother. And Mikhail knew, from her expression, that she feared
that her firstborn might prove to be just as unstable as Vincent had been.
Sometimes the Elhalyn defect took a long time to manifest itself, and he hoped
that Gareth's behavior was only an indication of the boy's ambitions, fed by
Javanne's treachery, and not something more dangerous.
"I hope you are pleased with yourself, Mother," Mikhail told the woman. He could
see that she was trembling with rage and frustration, but also that she was
unable to grasp why her plan had failed so dramatically.
Mikhail looked slowly around the table, measuring the expressions on the stunned
faces of the Comyn Council. Even Dom Francisco seemed unnerved, running one hand
through his pale hair and drumming on the tabletop with the other. From his look
of unease, Mikhail guessed that he had not known of Javanne's plan to name him
as regent for Gareth. Francisco was canny enough to know that such an
appointment would never be accepted by the rest of the Domains, and would not
have suggested it himself. After several seconds, Dom Francisco turned to stare
at Javanne, and there was nothing kindly in his gaze.
Mikhail swallowed a sudden desire to laugh, to fall into cheerful hysterics,
gather up his wife and children, and fly to one of the moons. Liriel, perhaps.
He had always thought that his mother was her own worst enemy, and now she had
managed to move Francisco Ridenow into that position! The irony was almost too
much to be contained.
But he managed to control himself long enough to continue his examination of the
rest of the Council. There was shock and outrage evident, but also an air of
speculation that puzzled him for a second. Then he decided that both Dom Damon
and Francisco Ridenow were trying to think how to turn this development to their
own advantage. He knew these men to be his adversaries, even though they were
not in any way allies. Mikhail felt he could handle them because he had come to
know them over the years. A look at Robert Aldaran's face told him these
thoughts were going through his mind as well, and that he would try to keep his
father in check.
"When did you learn that the Federation had dissolved the legislature, Mikhail?"
Lady Marilla asked, clearly attempting to get matters back in hand.
"I have known for several days," Mikhail said, "ever since Herm Aldaran arrived.
Shortly after that, all Darkovan personnel were ordered to leave Headquarters.
This is one of the things I intended to discuss at this meeting, before we
became distracted by other matters." The sound of his voice surprised him, for
it might have been Regis speaking in his particular way, chiding his adversaries
like a stern but not unjust father. And from the way Javanne stiffened, she had
caught the similarity as well, and was not at all pleased by it.
"Where is Hermes?" Dom Damon asked in a querulous voice. "I have asked several
people, including that Terranan woman he married, but no one will tell me
anything. Even Gisela does not seem to know where her brother has disappeared
to." He gave Rafael a penetrating glance.
"Yes, Mikhail," Javanne cut in silkily. "Where is he?"
Mikhail looked at Lew, who gave a shrug. "He is doing a job for me at present,"
br /> he answered, glad that the construction of the Crystal Chamber prevented anyone
from reading his mind. "He volunteered for the task, and it seemed the best
thing at the time."
"He volunteered? For what? When? Why?" Javanne-was determined to get to the
bottom of things. "He was at dinner three nights ago, and then he vanished."
"I don't understand any of this," Dom Damon grumbled.
Mikhail weighed things in his mind, and decided that he had better give them a
bone to chew on, something to distract them. "Herm has the Aldaran Gift, and had
a flash of warning-he left the Federation before Premier Nagy actually announced
the dissolution of the legislature. He brought his wife and children with him,
for he suspected that he would not be returning there in the near future. When
the Station Chief realized Herm was on Darkover, he issued an arrest warrant,
declaring him an enemy of the state-a unique distinction in Darkovan history,
but one that I am sure Herm would have preferred not to have received." There
were murmurs around the table, and a few mild chuckles. "Lyle Belfontaine had
the audacity to send me a message demanding that I turn Hermes over to him for
arrest and deportation. Or, to be precise, he sent Regis the message, not
knowing at that time that Regis had died. I ignored it, since I have no
intention of turning over any citizen of our world to anyone. But Hermes felt
that it might be better if he were not here, so as not to cause trouble."
Lew gave Mikhail a heartwarming look of approval at this mixture of truth and
half-truth. Everyone else was too busy digesting these revelations to comment
for a merciful few moments, and Mikhail allowed himself to be quietly pleased.
"I don't believe this," bellowed Dom Damon, clearly surprised and outraged.
"Belfontaine would never arrest my son!"
Mikhail drew a sheet of shiny paper from his pouch and handed it around the
table. "This is the arrest order."
Dom Damon stared at it nearsightedly. "That treacherous bastard!"
"I did not realize you were so well acquainted with Belfontaine," Danilo
Syrtis-Ardais remarked quietly, giving Dom Damon a piercing look.
"I would not say we were acquainted," Lord Aldaran blustered. "But unlike the
rest of you, we have tried to maintain reasonable ties with the Terranan,
particularly since there are so many of them living in the Aldaran Domain at
present."
"Just how many of them are there?" Mikhail asked. Regis had never been able to
get Dom Damon to name a figure, and it had annoyed him a great deal.
"Oh, I don't know. I never think about such things." The guarded expression on
his face deepened.
Robert Aldaran gave his father a glance of surprise. "There are, at this time,
approximately five hundred Federation citizens in the Aldaran Domain, most of
them technicians of various sorts. That number includes about fifty spouses.
There is a modest contingent of ethnologists and anthropologists, doing nothing
very much, as near as I can gather, except annoying people by asking peculiar
questions about all sorts of things that are none of their business. And there
are about seventy-five Federation troopers, although I have suspected for quite
some time that many of the technicians were actually fighting men pretending
otherwise."
Dom Damon cast a look of unconcealed loathing at his older son. Then he rattled
the paper in his hand. "I just don't understand this! Why in the world would
Belfontaine issue an arrest warrant, particularly for a son of mine?"
"What better way to provoke an incident, and justify some action that would
otherwise not be permitted," Lew replied almost smugly, as if he felt he had
caught the Aldaran somehow. "Belfontaine has a history of overstepping himself,
for being ambitious, and I am sure that being forced to leave Darkover this way,
at this time, was not his choice."
"What in Zandru's coldest hell do you mean by that," growled Dom Damon, looking
more confused and anxious by the moment.
"Well, if we did not turn over Herm, then he might think he could justify
storming Comyn Castle itself. The law is rather ambiguous about the rights of
individual citizens of Protected Planets, which means that Belfontaine might
have decided to read it to his advantage." Lew looked grim for a moment. "We can
only conjecture, I'm afraid, but I do know that Belfontaine has been sending
frantic messages to his superiors, and that they have not, so far as I know,
responded. I think he is trying to get permission to use force against us."
"Then you must be insane! Why would he want to do something so foolish?" The
color of Dom Damon's face was alarming now, so red that Mikhail feared he would
have an apoplectic fit. But he did not look like a man who was planning
deliberate treachery. Whatever plan he had, it had nothing to do with the ambush
that might await them on the road. He let himself enjoy a moment of relief.
"We must hope you are correct, with your greater knowledge of the Terranan, Dom
Damon," Francisco said slowly, frowning over the words. "But if he is desperate,
then who knows what he might decide. Are we just going to sit around and wait
for him to make a move?"
"Hardly that," Danilo answered. "Both the City Guard and the Castle Guard are on
full alert, as I am sure you already know, Dom Francisco. In the recent past the
Federation has attempted to cause trouble in various ways on Darkover, but thus
far they have had very little success. The Thendaran rumor mill is almost silent
concerning the Federation, but very curious about . . . well, no matter." He
fell silent and looked as if he had said too much already, but when no one
questioned him, he went on. "If there is any assault, it will come from another
direction."
"And just what is being done to prevent this," Javanne asked sharply, speaking
directly to Danilo.
Mikhail looked at Lew, for they had spent hours together with Danilo, trying to
decide just how to present the plot to the Council. Lew gave one of his speaking
shrugs and answered, "First, we have started rounding up the Travelers' troupes,
quietly and firmly, because there is some evidence that the Federation has been
using them as spies and agents."
"The Travelers? I can hardly believe what I am hearing! Do you actually expect
us to believe that a bunch of entertainers pose some sort of threat to the
Comyn?" She looked triumphant, as if she felt she had scored a point.
Dom Damon looked alarmed at this revelation, since everyone knew that several of
the Traveler bands wintered in the Aldaran Domain. Still, there was nothing
guilty in his expression. The ruddy color in his cheeks faded, and now he was
pale. "Spies? Agents? Have you lost your mind?"
"No, I have not. We have already uncovered one spy within the Travelers, and who
knows how many others there are. Do you remember the riot in the Horse Market
during Midsummer? Well, it was provoked by the Travelers-we know that now,
although we did not then. But the danger has been nipped in the bud," Mikhail
told them. Any troupe near a Tower had been dealt with, since he had received
Nico's communicati
on two nights before, but that still left those in more remote
locations free to make as much mischief as they wished. But if his son were
correct, then it was likely that the Travelers themselves were largely innocent
dupes, and that no troupe had more than one or two Terranan spies with them, if
that.
"Travelers! This is utterly ridiculous! You are making this up!" snapped
Javanne. "I don't know what you think you are doing, telling us these stories,
and . . ."
"Silence!" roared Dom Gabriel. "If you say another word against Mikhail, woman,
I will drag you out of here by your hair."
Javanne's mouth gaped, pushing the little ruff under her chin askew. Then she
clamped it closed, glared at her husband, and subsided, shocked. She gathered
herself again, slowly and with difficulty, looking old and haggard, yet
determined at the same time. "Son or not, I will not allow you to take my
brother's place!"
Mikhail took a deep breath and looked around the table. "Let us be clear on one
matter. I am Regis Hastur's heir, and I will do what he wished me to do. The
matter is not open to further discussion. I will not waste my time debating my
own fitness with those of you who imagine yourselves to have wiser heads, or the
well-being of Darkover more to heart. This is hardly the time to start fighting
among ourselves."
Lady Marilla cleared her throat. "I must disagree, Dom Mikhail, and very
strongly. You are too much influenced by Lew Alton and your wife, and everyone
here knows that. I am afraid that the matter must be debated, and that, in the
end, you will have to step aside." Her voice was soft, as always, and it sounded
as if she had prepared the words carefully.
This was too much for Dyan Ardais, who rarely said very much at Council
meetings. "In whose favor, Mother? Have you completely lost your wits?"
Lady Marilla looked slightly surprised, for it was not often that her son
opposed her openly in Council meetings. "Well, a regency, of course . . . until
Roderick is . . . or perhaps Gareth . . ."
"Ah, so that is what you have decided, have you?" Dyan sneered. "Forgive my
mother, Mikhail. That is the most foolish idea I have heard in months, and I can
guess where she got it. I must point out that Mikhail named Domenic his heir
when he reached his majority at Midsummer, so there is no question of . . ."