Traitor's Sun

  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 . . ."