that I will forgive him. Except for this one instance, he has always been a very
good boy."
"That doesn't surprise me, from my brief acquaintance at dinner that first time.
He and Roderick are so different, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are. There is something I have wanted to ask you, and not dared to,
Kate."
"Ask away."
"What have you done to my sister-in-law? I was only half jesting when I wondered
if you had bewitched her."
"Well, in the first place, I haven't done anything, except perhaps see her as a
person instead of an Aldaran." She hesitated, as if concerned she had been
offensive. "When you are a portrait painter, you learn a great deal about
people, because they will talk about themselves, even when I am trying to get
their mouths down on canvas. So, I have been rather good at listening. And when
Gisela took me to see Master Gilhooly, we talked during the journey, and I
discovered that she was not a bad woman at all. She only needed to be heard
without being prejudged because of her family." Kate hesitated briefly. "I think
you are right about my having a great deal of empathy, by the way. I've noticed
that I seem to have a sixth sense about people that was always there, only I did
not pay much attention to it, except to be aware of which people made me squirm
and fidget. Gisela doesn't, in the same way that Herm never did."
"And being listened to reformed her?" Marguerida was amused and somewhat
disbelieving.
Kate laughed. "No, I don't think so. I gave her things to think about other than
feeling unhappy about herself. And I believe that Mikhail coming to see Rafael
and bringing him to that Council meeting was important as well. Giz really cares
for Rafael, and she has felt perfectly miserable because she was the cause of
his . . . estrangement from his brother." She gestured ahead, to where Rafael
Lanart was riding a horse length behind Mikhail. "That's why Dom Damon hit her,
you know."
"What?"
"From what Gisela told me, her father put her up to mischief, years ago, because
he wanted Mikhail and Rafael to be at odds although she did not know she was to
deliberately estrange the two! And when he discovered that they no longer were,
he took it out on her."
"I am a fool! I should have guessed that something like that had happened! Of
course, it all makes sense now!"
Kate shook her head. "I'm glad it does to you, because I am still rather in the
dark. I don't understand your ways yet, if I ever will. But I do grasp the
fairly obvious-that my father-in-law had some intention of unseating Mikhail and
putting Rafael in his place."
"And Gisela walked right into his trap-poor woman."
"My breda is not any sort of poor woman, Marguerida. She is just a very
intelligent person who has had nowhere to put her energies except to cause
trouble. And, I gather, Lady Javanne is in a similar position."
"Yes, I believe that is true. You call her breda, and I think you mean it, in
all its several possible interpretations. That is so remarkable to me, for you
have only known her for a few days. And she is not an easy person to know, Kate.
I still think you bewitched her."
"No one is easy to know, Marguerida. But Gisela is not as difficult as you
imagine-all she needs or wants is to be treated fairly. And I have not
ensorcelled anyone. If I were going to do such a thing, Gisela would not have
been my choice."
"I have seen the way Herm looks at you, Kate."
The other woman chuckled softly. "And I have seen the way Mikhail looks at you.
That isn't sorcery-it's sex!"
Marguerida shook her head. "It has to be more than that!"
"Of course it is, but . . . well, I just think that you and Mikhail are a good
match. I always thought that Herm and I were, too, but now I am starting to
wonder if I just persuaded myself that I understood him."
"I don't know if men and women ever understand each other, Kate. But you are
right that Mik and I are a fine match-like two halves of a whole."
"Yes, that's it. I noticed how you always stand on his right side, as if you
need to be on that side and never on the other. Will you tell me what that is
about?"
"Gisela didn't tell you? I am surprised, and rather pleased at her discretion."
Marguerida took a deep breath. "Shortly after I returned to Darkover, I was
forced to make a journey into the overworld, to destroy what remained of Ashara
Alton, and when I did, I pulled the keystone from a tower she had made there,
and it . . . imprinted itself on my left hand. And then, later, Mikhail and I
went into the past, and when we returned, he had the ring of Varzil the Good,
which he wears on his right hand. This has given us a particular ability to
combine our matrix energies together, to do certain workings that I can't
describe to you."
"The Overworld? Is that the realm of the gods or something?"
"Not that I know of. It is a place and not a place at the same time, and even
though I have been there a few times, I still don't even begin to understand it.
And if the gods are there, no one has reported it."
"Marguerida, tell me the truth. There is something more going on here than
taking Regis' body to this rhu fead. I can feel the tension in the mounted men,
and in everyone else, including you. It feels like you are expecting a storm or
something."
"If I had never told you that you possessed a degree of empathy, you never would
have gotten so sensitive, would you?"
"Probably not. What is it?"
"We have received some information that the forces of the Federation may try to
attack the funeral train after we leave Carcosa."
"I thought you expected an attack on Comyn Castle."
"That too."
"I see. And Hermes left the castle and went to this Carcosa village because he
had heard of the plot?"
"Yes." Marguerida was uncomfortable now, for keeping the truth from Katherine
for so many days, and more, from her own reluctance to put the other woman into
danger. Perhaps she could be persuaded to remain behind in the town.
"Well, that explains a great deal. No wonder Herm didn't tell me anything. I
would have thought about it certainly, and who knows who might have caught my
worrying. I confess that I never thought how difficult it might be to keep a
secret in a world full of telepaths. It is better that I didn't know." She
paused and frowned. "Gisela didn't know about this either, did she?"
"No, she didn't, because at the time we were not sure that her father was not
mixed up in the entire stupid mess." Thinking of Dom Damon, Marguerida spoke
with more feeling than she intended, letting her damped-down fury expose itself.
"And now?"
"Now we know that Dom Damon was not conspiring with Lyle Belfontaine, which is a
great relief, because having another enemy in our midst is more than . . ."
"My father-in-law does not seem to be a very able plotter, Marguerida. He just
seems like an ignorant man who hits women when he does not get his way." She
paused and looked ahead, at the men riding ahead of her, finally fixing her gaze
&
nbsp; on Francisco Ridenow. "That man in the green-and-gold tunic there wants
watching, if you ask me. I'm sure I was introduced to him, but for some reason I
can't recall his name-only that he is a person who makes me very uncomfortable!"
Marguerida's eyes widened at this comment. How had Kate, without real laran,
discerned that Dom Francisco was a potential threat? And how was she going to
persuade the woman to undergo testing? "Why him in particular."
"Something about the way he sets his shoulders, and how he keeps looking at
Mikhail with . . . rancor."
Marguerida nodded in agreement and grimaced a little. "Yes, that is close to the
mark. Dom Francisco imagines that he could possess my husband's matrix and use
it, that it rightly belongs to him because it was his ancestor's."
"But when Giz explained to me a bit about the matrices, she said they were keyed
to individuals. Hermes wears this pouch around his neck, and always has, but
until she told me, I never had any idea what was in it. I just knew that it was
something I should not touch or pry into. I thought it was some sort of amulet,
like those my people wear to keep the ghosts away. So, how can Francisco think
he can use Mikhail's, if he knows that matrices are fixed on a person? For that
matter, if what Gisela told me is accurate, how can Mikhail have one that
belonged to this other person, this Varzil fellow?"
"When Varzil passed his matrix on to Mikhail, he managed to incorporate
Mikhail's own starstone into it-don't ask me how! I saw it with my own eyes and
I still don't understand it! It was as near to magic as anything I have ever
seen."
"What would happen if Francisco got hold of the thing?"
"I don't know, but I think it would probably kill both him and Mikhail."
"Does Francisco know that?"
"Yes, but he doesn't believe it, Kate."
When the party drew into the courtyard of the Crowing Cock just after midday,
Marguerida was very glad to dismount and stretch her legs. She hadn't ridden for
any length of time in several years, and she found she was rather stiff. The
insides of her thighs ached and she yearned for a hot bath, a long massage, and
a clean bed to sleep on. More, she wished that she did not have to ride farther
that day.
The yard was much too small to take in the entire funeral train, so most of the
wagons and carriages pulled up outside the walls separating the inn from the
street. Despite this, by the time the funeral wagon had been drawn inside, and
the members of the Comyn and their Guards entered, the courtyard was crammed.
Grooms rushed forward into the bustle and took the reins of the horses as their
riders dismounted, and the ostlers were shouting at one another as they
attempted to manage the near chaos.
Marguerida started toward the entrance and noticed there were black marks on the
cobblestones beneath her feet. A faint smell of burning seemed to hang in the
air, muted by the recent rain, but still noticeable. She was momentarily
distracted by this and was caught unawares when a pair of arms excitedly
encircled her waist.
"Mother!"
She turned in the embrace and looked down at her eldest child, still a few
inches shorter than she was. His dark hair was unbound, as he preferred it, and
his eyes shone with pleasure, as if he were as glad to see her as she was to see
him. He looked none the worse for his adventures, and there was a new air of
confidence about him she had not seen before. "Nico! You scamp!" Marguerida
could not bring herself to scold him more than this, even though she had
rehearsed a number of pungent sentences beforehand. A vast weight of anxiety
lifted from her, and her heart felt ready to burst with delight. She let herself
clutch him hard, pressing him against her chest, feeling the bones in his
shoulders beneath his shirt and tunic.
"It was your own fault," he answered, after giving her a quick kiss on the
cheek.
"My fault-how did you arrive at this remarkable conclusion?"
"If you had not told me I was dull and never gave you a moment's worry, I might
not have decided to go off on my own."
Marguerida followed this entirely specious line of reasoning with amusement. She
was so glad to have Domenic safe beside her that she would have agreed with
almost anything. "Yes, I suppose I should be grateful that you did not decide to
try to circle Comyn Castle along the rooftops."
Nico laughed at this. "I might have, but I have no head for heights." Then he
drew away a little, as if anxious about something, and she noticed a rather
scruffy-looking girl standing uneasily behind him. "I would like to present my
friend Illona Rider, Mother. She has lived with the Travelers all her life, and
can tell you all about them." His tone combined a kind of pride and wariness at
the same time.
For a moment Marguerida was a little puzzled as to what to make of this, and
then she extended her right hand. "How do you do? I am Marguerida Alton-Hastur,
and I am glad to meet any friend of my son's."
The girl looked at the offered hand for a moment, as if it were a snake, then
took it gingerly and shook it briefly. To Marguerida's eye, she seemed underfed
and unprepossessing. Her wiry red hair stood out wildly from her skull, escaping
from the wooden clasp at the back of her skinny neck, and her green eyes were
too large for the thin face. The cloak she was wearing smelled of smoke and ash,
and beneath it, the garments she wore seemed to have been made for a larger
person. She gazed at Marguerida with a combination of fear and defiance that was
disquieting, then lowered her eyes to the seared stones.
"I don't know nearly as much as Domenic thinks," Illona muttered gruffly,
shuffling her feet under her.
"Well, whatever you know would interest me. I have been very curious about the
Travelers since I saw their wagons for the first time sixteen years ago, and
while my friend Erald has told me a few things, he is too obsessed with his
music to pay attention to interesting details." Who was this girl? Their brief
physical contact had startled her, because she could sense the presence of laran
in her rather strongly. And why, Marguerida wondered, was she wearing Nico's old
cloak, while he stood out in the chilly day in his tunic and shirtsleeves?
"Do you mean Erald the Balladeer? He went with us three summers ago, and I could
not make heads or tails out of him," Mona answered, relaxing slightly. "He
hardly ate and never seemed to sleep, but only sat around plunking away at his
instruments like a madman."
"Yes, that's him," Marguerida answered, glad to find some common ground with her
son's new friend.
Someone came up behind her, and Marguerida recognized the familiar imprint of
Dyan Ardais in her mind. He stepped beside her and looked at Domenic. "You look
none the worse for your adventure, Nico." He smiled at the young man in a
friendly way, and then at his companion. Marguerida saw his eyes widen with
surprise.
Does she remind you of someone, Dom Dyan?
Of all the . . . who is this, Nico?
The girl beside me is called Illona Rid
er, but it is my belief that you might
have known her mother. There was a stern quality in the boy's mental tone.
Dyan shifted from foot to foot and stared at the girl, who looked back at him
rather fiercely. Marguerida wondered if she was overhearing the unspoken
conversation, but from the expression on her face, decided she was not, quite
deliberately. Illona was consciously keeping herself from overhearing anything
by concentrating on the rabbithorns in a nearby enclosure. And what the devil
was Nico up to? I did know a woman once, with hair like that . . .
Then I suspect Illona is your nedestra, Dom Dyan. Nico's words sounded accusing,
and Dyan turned red with embarrassment. She was found as a baby, in the ruins of
a village that had been raided by bandits, and was saved from death by the
Travelers. It was up in Ardais country, and she seems to have the Alton Gift,
untrained but there, as near as I can tell, which made me thank of your own
father, you see. Domenic was relentless now, and Marguerida could sense his
steadfastness, his affection for this rather unprepossing girl, and his odd
loyalty to her.
Perhaps. She is certainly the image of . . . Eduina MacGarret. But that doesn't
mean . . .
At least you can remember her name, among so many. Domenic gazed at Dyan, who at
thirty-seven was still unmarried, and scandalously reknowned in the Comyn for
the number of his illegitimate offspring.
Marguerida wanted to laugh at the situation, but she knew she had to put a stop
to it. Nico!
I'm sorry, Mother, but I . . .
Yes, son. I understand. But this is neither the time nor the place for . . . a
reunion. Does your little friend have any idea . . .?
I don't think so-she can overhear a lot, even without a matrix, but she has
learned how to block rather effectively. And she would happily leave her laran
by the side of the road, if she could. She has been very upset, discovering that
she has it, and if I hadn't distracted her by teaching her to read these past
couple of days, I thank she would have gone to pieces from grief and sheer
terror.
So that is why you wanted the book-I have been racking my brains since I got
your letter. Is she a good student?
Very. She is smart and fast. And I liked teaching her.
I am glad of that.