"And you should thank the Gods for it," Conn said forthrightly. "I think he looks a fool-like a dressed doll for a little girl's dollhouse."

  "Between us, I agree with you, Conn," Floria whispered. "I would never think to dye my hair purple and have it done up with glue that way!"

  When Gavin turned back to them with an ingenuous smile, Conn felt a little ashamed. For all his ab-

 

  surd elaboration of dress, Conn was fonder of Gavin than any other of Alastair's friends. Alastair teased Conn unmercifully about his countrified tastes, even after he had discarded his rustic suit, and wore as well-cut an outfit as Alastair's own, he could still not be persuaded to adorn his fingers with the fashionable rings, nor to wear jeweled and elaborately tied neckcloths. Ironically, Gavin, alone of the circle of Alastair's friends, had refrained from plaguing him about his refusal to follow fashions. Now he took Conn's hand warmly and said, "Good evening, cousin; I am glad you could be with us tonight. Floria, did my mother send word to Lady Erminie that the royal lady will be here this evening?"

  "Yes, we have heard," Floria said, "but I fear she will not appreciate the entertainment; she is too deaf to enjoy the music much and too lame to dance."

  "Oh, that's all right," Gavin said gaily. "She will play cards with the other old ladies, and kiss all the young girls; and if there are enough sweets-and Lady Erminie's chef is justly famous-she will not miss for entertainment." He raised his hands hesitantly to his hair. "I fear the dampness has got through my hood and my hair is wet; how does it look, friends?"

  "Like a ball of feathers set up for the target at an archery contest," Conn teased. "If they begin shooting, you had better hide in a closet, or they'll aim at you." Gavin grinned widely, not in the least offended.

  "Perfect! That's exactly how this hairdo is supposed to look, cousin." He went into the main room, bowed over Erminie's hand. "My lady."

  "I'm glad you could be with us tonight, Gavin," said Erminie, smiling at her son's childhood friend

 

  with genuine affection. "Can we hear you sing this night?"

  "Oh, to be sure," Gavin said, smiling. "But I'm hoping Alastair will give us a song as well."

  Somewhat later, surrounded by his friends, Gavin took his place at the tall harp and played; then beckoned Alastair to his side, and after a brief conference in whispers, Alastair sang a melodious love song, gazing at Floria.

  "Is that one of your songs, Gavin?" Floria asked.

  "No, not this one; this is a folk song of Asturias. But it is clever of you to ask; many of the songs I have written are in the ancient mode of that country," he said. "And Alastair sings them better than I do. Do you sing, Conn?"

  "Only a few songs of the hills," Conn said.

  "Oh, do sing; I love the old country songs!" Gavin urged, but Conn smiled and refused.

  Later when they began to dance, he also refused, "I know no dances but the country ones; you would be ashamed of me, brother; I would disgrace you before your fine friends."

  "Floria will never forgive you if you do not dance with her," Alastair urged, but according to custom he led Floria out for the first of the couple dances. Gavin stood beside Conn, watching them as they moved away.

  "I was not merely being polite when I asked you to sing," he said. "I never tire of the folk songs of the mountains; most of my music has been written in that idiom. If you do not want to sing in this company-and I don't blame you; except for Alastair himself there's not a man here who truly understands music-perhaps you'd come one day to my

 

  studio and sing for me there. It's possible you may know some songs I'm not familiar with."

  "I'll think it over," Conn said, warily; he liked Gavin, but although he had as clear a voice as his brother, he had never been the performer.

  At that moment there was a commotion in the street and a knock at the door. Erminie's chamberlain went and opened it, and stepped back in surprise; then, recovering his composure, announced, "His Grace Aidan Hastur of Elhalyn and Her Grace Queen Antonella."

  The dancing stopped and all eyes turned to the door as the royal couple removed their cloaks. Conn at once recognized the man he had spoken to-or had it been his brother?-in his dream or vision. Queen Antonella was small and fat and hobbled with one leg shorter than the other in spite of a built-up shoe on that foot; King Aidan was small and white-haired and quite unimposing. All the same there was a respectful silence while Erminie came forward and bowed.

  "My lady, welcome. My lord, this is an unexpected honor."

  "Never mind all that," said the Hastur king genially. "I am here tonight simply as a friend. The story of your son has been much repeated; I have heard so much gossip, that I wanted to find out what really happened." He laughed loudly, putting them all at ease.

  Alastair, with Floria on his arm, carne forward, and Aidan beckoned to him. "Well, young man, have you thought about that matter of which we spoke?"

  "I have, your Grace."

  "Then come and talk with me about it," the king

 

  requested, "and I would like to speak with your brother as well."

  Alastair gestured to Conn. "Certainly, but I am the duke and the decision is ultimately mine, vai dom."

  "Yes, of course," said Aidan peacefully, "but your brother has been living in those parts and can tell us most accurately what's going on there."

  Meanwhile, Erminie signaled to the musicians to take up the music for dancing again, and ushered the queen inside.

  "While the men talk, your Grace, will you come and take some refreshment?" she asked politely, offering Queen Antonella her arm. The elderly queen looked at Alastair and Conn. "Like as two pods on a featherpod tree, aren't they? Lucky Erminie, to have not one handsome son but two," she said, almost wistfully, and paused to smile at Gavin and stand on tiptoe to kiss him affectionately on the cheek.

  "How tall you've grown," she said, and Erminie had to smile, for short as Gavin was, Queen Antonella was so small that next to the queen Gavin appeared to be quite a respectable height. She turned to King Aidan and said, "Hasn't he grown handsome? He really has dear Marcia's eyes, doesn't he?"

  "I wish my mother had lived to hear you say so, kinswoman," said Gavin, bowing most deferentially over the old queen's hand. "And now, while my kinsmen speak with His Grace, will the Lady Floria honor me with a dance?"

  Erminie nodded to Floria to dance with Gavin as she led Queen Antonella into the other room, while her sons went with the king into a small parlor off the large room which held the dancers.

  Once they were settled by the fire, Alastair poured

 

  out wine, which the king accepted, raising his glass silently. Then after a moment he said, "Well, shall we drink to the restoration of Hammerfell, then? Do you think you can pledge to be my faithful man in the mountains, Alastair?"

  "I think so," Alastair said. "Does this mean you have decided to lend me armies and men, sire?"

  "It's not quite that simple," Aidan said. "If I send an army unprovoked, then I am invading the country; but if there is an uprising there, then I can send troops to restore order. Your father-the old Duke of Hammerfell-he had soldiers; what happened to them when he died?"

  It was Conn who answered, "Most of the men who served my father went back to their own lands after his death; they could not fight a leaderless war against Storn's men. But there are some who have remained close to us, in our service; like the men who join us when we raid Storn's men and attempt to keep him from burning out my tenants-"

  "Your tenants?" Alastair asked softly. Conn seemed not to hear, but King Aidan raised his eyes and looked sharply at the twins, and Conn, who was a telepath, sensed that he was wondering if this rivalry could create trouble for them both. But the king did not voice his concern. "How many men are there, Conn?"

  "Perhaps three dozen," Conn answered, "and some of them may have been the men of my father's personal guard-his household."

  "And co
uld you guess how many men are-in hiding, but ready to come out for a rising against Storn?"

  Conn stopped to think it over.

 

  "I really am not certain," he said at last. "There could not be fewer than two hundred; there might be as many as three hundred, but I am not certain there are more than that. With the men of my father's household-" at the back of his mind he heard the eerie echo, My father's, from Alastair, and it troubled him; he was growing almost hourly more conscious of his laran, "-there might be as many as three hundred and fifty, all told."

  He added, "I should perhaps return to call them up, and find out how many we can be sure of."

  "A good idea," said King Aidan, "for with fewer than three hundred you could hardly go out against Storn, who also has men and armies."

  Alastair said curtly, "If anyone goes, brother, it should be me; after all it is my land-and they are my tenants." Conn sensed his sudden anger. Who does he think he is! Does he think he can walk in after all my years of waiting and usurp my place?

  Conn felt his brother's wrath as if the words had been spoken aloud; and experienced, for his own part, a violent gust of anger, which he knew Alastair could not share. Yes, what he says is true; he is the duke by birth. But to him it is only a title, an old story. I have lived with these men, shared their poverty and their sufferings ... it is to me they turn when they seek help or leadership. Is it birth alone that can make a Duke of Hammerfell? Do the years I have served my people count for nothing?

  Although the words had come spontaneously and he knew Alastair could not hear them, impulsively he found himself crying out to the old king for an answer, though he knew that the Hastur-lord could not give him one-not, at least, at present. Aidan

 

  was looking at him sympathetically. Conn remembered, I pledged to serve my brother loyally; I had not thought of this.

  The king said, consideringly, "Perhaps your brother is right, Alastair; the men know him, he has been living among them-"

  "All the more reason they should get to know their true duke," Alastair exclaimed, and Aidan sighed.

  "We will have to think it over," he temporized. "For the moment-Alastair of Hammerfell, will you be my true man in the lands beyond the Kadarin?"

  Spontaneously, Alastair knelt before him, touched his lips to the hand Aidan extended.

  "I swear it, my lord," he said, and a sense of loyalty and affection flooded through him for this king who was his kinsman and had promised him aid in the restoration of his lands. Conn watched without moving; but Aidan looked up at him and their eyes met. Aidan's thoughts were so clear to Conn he could hardly believe the king had not spoken aloud.

  For life and death, I am your man, my lord.

  I knout. We have no need of spoken pledges, you and I.

  Conn did not know why this love and loyalty had suddenly become so clear between them; before this night he had never in the flesh set eyes on the king; yet it seemed that he had known this man all his life and more, that he had served him since the beginning of time, that a bond as strong or stronger than the bond which bound him to his brother stretched unbroken between himself and Aidan Hastur. As Alastair rose, Conn knelt for a moment before the king; Aidan did not speak, but again, for a moment, their eyes met, and no more was necessary. Conn could feel in Aidan a pained puzzlement, and he

 

  knew the king regretted he could do nothing to overturn what now seemed to him a miscarriage of justice, that the wrong twin had been born eldest-

  "So be it, sire," he said aloud. "I was born to my duty as you to yours."

  Aidan said, "I think you had better go back to your dancing, my lads; even here there may be those who should not know what has been said and promised this night. But you should lose no time in getting to the hills, to rouse your clan." He carefully did not look at either of them when he said, "Your clan." For better or worse, he thought with a feeling very like despair, they would have to settle that between them, and he could not honorably take either one's part.

  The king rose, gesturing them both to their feet, and they went out into the main room, Aidan holding back slightly. It is just as well that the guests in general should not know that this conference has taken place.

  Conn, knowing that his twin had not enough laran to follow Aidan's thoughts, repeated this in a low voice to Alastair, who nodded, smiling, and said, "Oh. You're right, of course."

  Floria came at once to join them.

  "Now you must dance with me, Conn. It is a country dance, and you are sure to know it," she said eagerly, and dragged him into the ring. Conn, embarrassed, but feeling he could not refuse, joined in the dance. Abruptly he remembered dancing at the harvest festival with Lilla, and how different this was; then he remembered how Markos had dragged him away, and blushed.

  They came to a stop at the end of the figure, and

 

  Floria faced Conn. She was heated with dancing, and her emotions roiled within her. Under ordinary circumstances she could have stepped out on the terrace to cool herself a little, but the rain was blowing too hard into the courtyard. The old dog Jewel sat decorously by the door, and Floria pulled herself away absentmindedly to pat her and take a moment to slow her heart. Then she saw that Conn had stepped out into the rain; he looked troubled, and his eyes homed to, hers, filling her with a strange deep-lying sorrow which was almost physical pain.

  I have no right to comfort him, no right to touch him this way at all.

  Nevertheless, she met his eyes-in itself a breach of decorum for a young girl in Thendara.

  Decorum be damned. He is all Hut my brother!

  He came toward her looking drawn and exhausted.

  "What is it, my brother?" she asked him.

  "I must go," he said. "By the king's word, I must return to Hammerfell-to summon what armies I have there."

  "No!" He had not realized that Alastair was at his shoulder. "If anyone is to go, if the king intended anyone to go, I am the one, brother. I am Hammerfell; they are my armies, not yours; do you not understand that yet?"

  "I understand, Alastair," Conn said, trying to control his temper "but what you do not understand-" He sighed. "I swear I have no intent to try and usurp your place, my brother. But," he fumbled to find words Alastair would understand, "I call these my men because I have lived among them all my life; they accept me, they know me-they do not even know you exist."

 

  "Then they had better be learning," Alastair repeated. "After all-"

  "You do not even know the way to Hammerfell," Conn said, interrupting in turn. "At the very least I should go and guide you-"

  Floria broke in. "In this?" she asked, indicating the storm still raging outside, the pouring rain and the high winds battering the house.

  "I will not melt into a puddle; I am not made of sugar candy. I have lived in the Hellers all my life, and I am not afraid of weather, Floria," Conn said.

  "A few hours, after all, cannot matter," Floria protested. "Can it be so urgent that one of you must set forth in a storm, and in the middle of the night? And leave our handfasting undone? Alastair?"

  "That at least should be completed," Alastair conceded with relief. "Let me go and find my mother and your father. It is for them to make the final decision on that." He strode away, leaving Floria and Conn standing together, regarding one another with frightened, troubled eyes.

  Alastair walked through the crowd of holiday-clothed merrymakers, and spoke to Gavin Delleray at the tall harp. Gavin struck a chord and the crowd fell silent, while Erminie and Conn came to stand beside Alastair. All eyes turned to Floria, as her father took her arm and they joined the Hammerfells. Then Alastair spoke in his resonant singer's voice.

  "My dear friends; I do not wish to interrupt the festivities, but I have learned that my presence is urgently required at Hammerfell; will you forgive me if we get on with the business which has brought us here tonight-Mother?"

 

  Erminie took Flori
a's hand and frowned slightly at Alastair.

  "I was aware of no messenger, my son," she said in an undertone.

  "There was none," Alastair whispered back. "I will explain later-or Conn will tell you. But I would not go with the handfasting incomplete and Floria's pledge unspoken."

  Conn looked faintly relieved. He moved to stand beside his brother, while Queen Antonella limped forward. From her stubby small finger, white and smooth, she drew a ring set with greenstones.

  "A gift for the pledged bride," she said, thrust it on to Floria's finger-it was just a little too large- and stood on tiptoe to kiss the girl's rosy cheeks. "May you have much happiness, dear child."

  "Thank you, your Grace," Floria murmured, "it is a lovely ring, and I shall cherish it as your gift."

  Antonella smiled, and then a look of strain flitted across her face; she said, "Oh!" and her hand went to the lace at her throat; she stumbled and fell to her knees. Conn stooped quickly to raise her, but she was dead weight in his arms; she slid to the floor.

  Instantly Erminie was at her side, King Aidan bending close; she opened her eyes and moaned, but it seemed that the queen's face had slipped all awry; her eye and mouth dragged down at the edge. She mumbled something; Erminie spoke reassuringly, holding the small pudgy figure on her arm.

  "A stroke," she murmured to Aidan. "She is not young, and it might have happened at any time these many years."

  "Yes; I feared it," the king said, and knelt by the stricken woman.

 

  "It's all right, my dear; I'm here beside you. We'll take you home at once."

  Her eyes slid shut and she seemed to sleep. Gavin Delleray rose quickly from her side and murmured, "I'll summon a chair."

  "A litter," Aidan corrected, "I don't think she can sit."