Lew nodded. “Nico’s Tower training should also serve him well.”
“Yllana has an exceptionally steady temperament, like her father,” Marguerida added with a smile. “Tonight, she was a wonder of efficiency under pressure. I don’t know what I would have done without her. I have no reservations about any of them.”
“Doubtless you are right. All three are fine young people. You know them better than I do. Nevertheless…” Lew paused. “Perhaps I am too old-fashioned about Comyn responsibility, but I would feel easier if I made sure for myself that Nico and Yllana understand the responsibility incurred by having the Alton Gift.”
“I have no objections to your teaching them whatever you think they need to know.” Marguerida shifted, a little uneasy. There was something more, still unspoken, some shadow behind her father’s words. She remembered how shaken he had looked after the mob dispersed.
In typical fashion, she faced the problem directly, laying one hand gently on his single arm. “Father, what else distresses you? What brought up this concern for laran ethics?”
He shook his head, his eyes shadowed, and for a long moment did not answer. “Ghosts,” he said at last, half-whispering. “The past is too much with me in this place. I do not know why my mind keeps bringing up old memories. I wish I had stayed at Armida, but I am not sure I could find peace there, either.” He sighed and shook his shoulders, as if trying to shed whatever bothered him.
“You cannot leave us now, not in the middle of this crisis!” Her words came out sharper than she intended.
“I have no intention of going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. You do not need to convince me I am needed here. It’s just…I have been reminded of too many things I wished to forget. I am not so foolish as to think that I can simply run away from them. Not even in my dreams.”
“Shall I ask Charissa to attend you? Or Istvana?” Marguerida asked, genuinely concerned for his health. “Something to help you sleep, perhaps?”
He got to his feet. “Ah, my Marja. Some things cannot be solved with a sympathetic conversation and an herbal tincture. I have lived with these memories for many years, and no doubt I will continue to endure them.”
With those words, he bent to kiss her cheek, and then left her. Marguerida remained in her chair, watching the candle flames, now still and steady. It seemed that everywhere she turned, the people she loved harbored painful secrets. Nico, and now her father.
By the time Marguerida gathered the family for breakfast the next day, it was well past noon. Sunlight drifted, bright and clear, through the half-opened windows of the family parlor.
Mikhail came in last. The night before, Istvana had examined him with her laran. Below the darkening bruise, she found no damage to his skull or bleeding in his brain, but the blow had left him with a mild concussion. Despite her instructions to remain quiet, he had been up since dawn, after only a few hours’ sleep.
Marguerida sensed her husband’s struggle to concentrate through the nausea and fatigue. It was all she could do not to pin him down and force him to take proper care of himself.
Leave him alone, Marguerida scolded herself. He will not heal any faster for your fretting.
At least, the city was quiet this morning. The City Guards patrolled the streets and stood watch beside the locked gates. There had been no new reports of disorder in the streets. She worried a little about Rory, on patrol duty, even though there was nothing she could do to protect him.
The meal began poorly. Everyone seemed preoccupied or irritable. Domenic picked at his food, his expression shuttered, his mental shields firmly in place. Yllana had dark circles under her eyes and kept fidgeting until Marguerida excused her to practice her music.
Istvana glided into the room, wearing an ordinary summer gown of very fine, pale yellow wool embroidered around the high neck and cuffs with the Ridenow colors. She went to Marguerida and embraced her.
“How are you, Marja my dear?” Istvana asked in her no-nonsense tone. “Mikhail, you are not resting enough, that much is clear.”
Good for you! Marguerida thought. Maybe he’ll listen to sense when it comes from someone else.
“When there are fewer urgent matters that require my attention, I will rest more,” he said with deceptive mildness.
Marguerida sighed. Sometimes, her beloved could be infuriatingly stubborn.
“Sit down, Isty,” she said, gesturing to the empty place. “We are well, considering what a night it was. How is Alanna this morning? Has she recovered from her fright?”
Istvana took a seat and began piling food on to her plate. “I told you last night, Marguerida, the girl does not suffer from fright any more than you do. What is wrong with her is not that simple.”
Domenic looked up sharply. Marguerida noticed that he had been shoving his breakfast around his plate without eating more than a mouthful or two.
“Alanna is something of a mystery,” Istvana said, between bites. “I understand she studied for a time at Arilinn.”
“She did,” Marguerida said.
“That explains it, then.” Istvana nodded.
“I don’t understand,” Mikhail said, frowning His blue eyes reflected his deep concern. “She stayed only one season. After that, she refused to go back. As she seemed so much improved, we did not force her.” His fair brows tightened, pulling on the swollen bruise on his forehead, and he winced. “Should we have?”
“Marja told me that Alanna demonstrated emerging talents of fire-starting and telekinesis—a very dangerous combination with her poor self-control,” Istvana commented. “The circle at Arilinn must have felt impelled to deal with the situation immediately, for Alanna’s own safety as well as that of those around her.”
Istvana’s expression darkened. Because of their friendship, Marguerida almost forgot that Istvana had all the authority and ruthless power of a Keeper.
“I know I can trust you not to repeat this,” Istvana said, “but since Jeff Kerwin retired, I don’t know what Arilinn Tower has been up to. Aldones knows, we have few enough with the strength and talent to do the work. Sometimes, though, I wonder if they could not have found someone besides Loren MacAndrews to succeed Jeff as Keeper. I have no right to criticize another Keeper, and I certainly am not the guardian of her conscience. However, in my opinion, she is leading the Tower backward.”
Mikhail’s head came up and Marguerida caught his shiver of alarm. “What do you mean, backward?”
“Just that. Arilinn has long been known as the most conservative of the Towers. The Archives there must date back to the Ages of Chaos, they’re so old.”
“But of incalculable historical worth, are they not?” As a scholar, Marguerida appreciated the value of such a library.
“Indeed,” Istvana agreed, and speared a piece of meat. “But not merely as obsolete records. They represent a treasure trove of forgotten techniques, just waiting to be rediscovered.”
“Including things better left alone?” Mikhail said, nodding as he followed Istvana’s train of thought.
Marguerida bit her lip, remembering her brief, unhappy time at Arilinn. She had been older than the rest of the studnets, and, having been raised off-world and possessing the Alton Gift, had become an object of thinly veiled hostility. Loren, one of the oldest students at that time, had been openly relieved when Marguerida left.
“I remember that Loren was fascinated with tradition, not that I ever knew her well.” Marguerida wondered if Loren’s resentment had not been rooted in jealousy. “She wasn’t exactly friendly, but she seemed competent.” And ambitious.
“Oh, she is that.” Istvana gestured with her fork. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Arilinn Keepers have always been highly qualified, and Loren is no exception. I meant that she might have tried one of the old methods on Alanna as an emergency measure, assuming that Alanna would remain for some time at Arilinn, so there would be plenty of time to reintegrate her talents as she attained greater self-discipline.”
“Old methods?” Marguerida aske
d. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“Someone at Arilinn—and I can only assume it was the Keeper—implanted certain involuntary safeguards within Alanna’s mind. In effect, Loren cordoned off the more dangerous parts of Alanna’s laran in order to protect her sanity.”
“You mean, they destroyed her laran?” Mikhail gasped. Marguerida sensed his instinctive recoil. Laran had been revered by the Comyn since time immemorial; only a short time ago, no Comyn could marry or inherit without demonstrating that he possessed it.
Istvana quickly reassured Mikhail that Alanna’s talent was not burned out, only quiescent.
Like a cancer in remission, Marguerida thought. A twinge pulsed through her temples, an echo of her earlier headaches.
“Fire-starting and telekinesis were not Alanna’s only talents,” Istvana went on. “She also had—has—a form of unreliable precognition. No, Marja, it’s not at all like your Aldaran Gift. In fact, faced with multiple possible futures, it is a wonder the child’s mind did not break down entirely. Fortunately, this seems to be a recent development, and I wonder if it was not in response to the earlier suppression.”
“Like weeds popping out in new parts of the garden, once you’ve weeded them in one place?” Marguerida frowned. “So, if this ability is cordoned off, who knows what Alanna will come up with next?”
“She isn’t doing it deliberately!” Domenic burst out.
Istvana gave him another intent look. “No, I am sure none of this is voluntary on her part. And Loren did what she thought best. We cannot question the decision of a Keeper.”
Istvana went on to explain that last night, something had disrupted Alanna’s safeguards, resulting in a resurgence of threshold symptoms. Out of the corner of her eye, Marguerida noticed Domenic shift uneasily in his chair, but she could sense nothing of his thoughts.
“Is she—” Domenic stammered, “is she still in danger?”
Istvana shook her head. “Alanna’s mind is stable for the time being. I was able to reinforce the Arilinn safeguards. I dared not meddle with what Loren did, not until I understand all the implications, so I thought it better to leave her precognition alone. She may find it troublesome, but is should pose no direct danger to her or anyone around her.”
Mikhail looked unhappy. “Should we sent her back to Arilinn? She would not have gone willingly before, but perhaps now…”
He blames himself, Marguerida thought, her heart aching for him, for not having insisted she return after that first season. Oh, Mik! We had no way of knowing what would happen, and Alanna was so set against it. Who knows what she might have done if we had not relented—run away, set the castle stables on fire as she threatened to do, caused even more mischief?
“A person with Alanna’s powerful laran and volatile temperament would definitely fare better in the disciplined environment of a Tower,” Istvana said with a sigh. “Not Arilinn again, but perhaps with Laurina MacBard at Dalereuth. The decision, however, must be hers, and she would have to submit to the training willingly and wholeheartedly. Her consent cannot be forced. Given her previous resistance, coercing her would do more damage than good. She should be safe enough, for the time being, if she is not subjected to another destabilizing incident.”
Domenic’s expression of concern intensified. It was sweet of him, Marguerida thought distractedly, to be so concerned about his childhood friend.
At least, I will not have to send her away, back to the mother who cannot love her. That would ruin her for certain. Perhaps with this incident, whatever trouble Alanna might have caused had been averted. Alanna appeared biddable enough for the moment.
“What should we do, then?” Mikhail asked. “How do we avoid triggering another incident?”
“Alanna’s laran is unusually complex,” Istvana said. “You know that the same energon channels carry laran and sexual energy.”
Mikhail nodded. “That is why threshold sickness often arises in puberty, when both become active.”
Domenic blushed and looked away. Istvana politely ignored him.
“At one time,” Istvana explained for Marguerida’s benefit, “it was thought that no one working in a matrix circle could be sexually active. Either there would be no energy left for sex—the man would become impotent and the woman, unresponsive—or else, the channels would overload with potentially fatal results.”
“What superstitious nonsense!” Marguerida exclaimed. “Using our laran never prevented Mik and I from—er…” She broke off as Domenic’s face reddened even further. Poor boy, he wasn’t used to his parents discussing such intimate matters.
Istvana nodded. “Of course, we know that now. But for centuries, Keepers were required to remain virgins, and nowhere as stringently as at Arilinn. You see, Keepers carry far higher energon levels than do other Tower workers, and for their own sake, as well as the safety of everyone in their circles, their lower channels must remain clear.”
Domenic shifted uneasily in his chair. “Surely, that does not apply to Alanna.”
Istvana looked sharply at him. “In Alanna’s case, her earliest-manifesting talents and her sexuality arose at about the same time. I suspect, from what I found in her mind, that Loren used the old techniques to shut down both.”
“Oh!” Marguerida exclaimed, lifting one hand to her mouth. “How terrible! And yet…that does make sense. When she came back from Arilinn, she struck me as childlike and curiously free from the usual teenage hormones. I was actually grateful we didn’t have that to deal with, as well as her temper.”
Marguerida bit back her next words. Loren might have acted in what she thought was Alanna’s best interests, but that could not justify what amounted to psychic neutering. Before she could put her thoughts into words, Mikhail spoke again.
“These safeguards are temporary, aren’t they? Alanna will be able to live as a normal woman, to…ah, to marry and have a family?”
Shaking her head, Istvana gave her empty plate a little shove. “It would be better to delay, until we can sort things out properly. Eventually, it might be possible to remove the safeguards. Once she has matured in her self-control, that is. Or the sexual inhibition itself might be released, perhaps through the careful administration of kireseth. The Forbidden Tower circle rediscovered some of the old Years-End rituals.”
Istvana paused, her eyes thoughtful. “You say that Arilinn will be sending a representative to the Council season. I hope it is Loren, so that we can discuss what she did. For the time being, let us leave well enough alone. Unless.. the girl is not betrothed, is she?”
“No, thank all the gods!” Marguerida breathed in relief.
“If you say that Alanna is in no danger,” Mikhail said, “I do not see what else we can do.”
“Where is Dom Lewis?” Istvana, having satisfied herself, changed the subject. “I hoped to see him this morning.”
“As I do,” Mikhail said, in between sips of unsweetened jaco. “I want to ask his advice about how to handle those men from last night.”
“You mean, how to get you out of the pickle you made for yourself,” Marguerida said, gently teasing him. “I believe Father took breakfast in his own room. Isn’t that so, Darna?” She glanced over her shoulder at one of the serving maids.
“Yes, vai domna. Cecilia took a tray to him a little while ago.” The girl began clearing away the breakfast dishes. Istvana excused herself to check on Alanna again and to attend to her own duties.
“I suppose last night was exhausting for an old man,” Mikhail said when he, Domenic, and Marguerida were alone again.
“He’s not that old—” Marguerida stopped herself. Lew was not yet seventy, barely out of middle age by Terran standards. The years had worn hard on her father; one look at his poor scarred face, or the way he rubbed the stump of his arm when he thought no one was watching, reminded her of how much he still suffered.
What will I do when he’s gone?
Why am I indulging in such morbid thoughts? Father will be wit
h us for a long time yet.
“I would not disturb Lew’s rest,” Mikhail said, “but I must prepare to receive those men in Council the day after tomorrow. I would prefer not to go into such a meeting without knowing as much as I can about their situation. I’m going to have enough difficulty convincing the Council to accept such a breach of protocol as it is. I’d rather not make a fool of myself by my own ignorance.”
“You could ask Danilo Syrtis,” Domenic said. All three heads turned toward him.
“That’s an interesting suggestion,” Mikhail said. “Danilo was once part of the inner workings of the Council, through his association with Regis, his Wardenship of Ardais, and later, his service to us. He has withdrawn so much these last few years and then was so ill last winter, I was surprised to see him at the opening session.”
Hesitantly, as if revealing a confidence, Domenic said that Danilo had arranged a number of meetings for him in Thendara with various sorts of people. “Traders, craftsmen, a few minor lords. I’ve learned far more about the city and the surrounding lands than I could behind these walls. Dom Danilo spends a great deal of time outside the Castle, I believe. He may have heard of these men.”
So that must be the secret Domenic was hiding. Marguerida didn’t know whether to be proud of her son or furious at him for taking unnecessary risks. Thendara, like any big city, included districts where a young man was not safe wandering alone. Possessions that Domenic took for granted, such as a finely woven cloak or a belt with a metal buckle, might well tempt a thief. Even a man trained in self-defense could be overcome by sufficient numbers or caught by surprise.
She tried to remember what it was like to be twenty and how she would have felt if her parents had forbidden her to stray beyond an armed fortress or worse yet, had someone trailing her everywhere, reporting back to them. She would have been so angry, she would have gone out and done the most outrageous thing she could think of.
I was a University student, nobody of importance. Nico is the heir to the Regency and most powerful Domain of Darkover. He has no right to risk himself.