Page 36 of Thendara House


  “No more for me,” Magda said, “A Renunciate can’t go around the streets drunk, not even at Festival! More coffee, though; that’s wonderful.”

  Monty indicated the pile of spindles on the table beside the couch. He said, “Miss Lorne came in on her day off and added to our files on the Renunciates.”

  “And now I am off to spend the rest of the day with the women from the Guild House—”

  “Don’t go yet,” Aleki said, “ I’ve been wanting to have a talk with you ever since Jaelle mentioned you. I looked up everything about you in Records. While I was out on the fire lines, I saw some women from Neskaya Guild House—”

  “We were there from Thendara, too,” Magda said, “but I didn’t see you.”

  “You wouldn’t have noticed me if you did,” Alessandro Li said, good-naturedly. “I was supposed to be deaf and dumb, and a servant.”

  Monty chuckled. “That’s just what Magda told me I had better be, walking through the streets this morning!”

  “You were in the Kilghard Hills,” Aleki said. “Do you know anything about—” he hesitated over the word, “the Comyn?”

  “All I know is in my report from Ardais,” Magda said, conscious that she was evading him, and he scowled. “Not enough. Somehow I think the Comyn, whoever or whatever they are, are the key to this whole crazy planet. You know how it is; normally they come to us, begging to join with the Empire— eager for technology, all the benefits of a star-spanning Empire, but these people think their own little frozen ball of mud is the center of the whole damn universe!”

  “You can’t blame them for that,” Magda said. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Not a question of blame. But Darkover is an anomaly and I’d like to know why. I can’t ask Jaelle much about the Comyn—I gather she’s related to some of them. We don’t have any men in the field—we heard a rumor around the Trade City, a few years ago, of some kind of power struggle in the Comyn. Had to do with something they call the Towers, some kind of rebellion led by a man called Lord Damon Ridenow—and when I went out fighting fire, there he was bossing the whole job.”

  “Well, you ought to know what’s going on out there, then,” said Magda, “You’ve got one of the best men in the field I ever met. I’d never have spotted him, but we were trapped together behind the fire, and I heard him swearing in Terran.” And then she was struck with doubt; had she heard him or had she picked it up with that special extra sense she seemed to be developing?

  “Best man in the field? What the devil are you talking about?” Aleki demanded, “We don’t have any men on Alton lands. The only field Intelligence man we have that’s really good is Kadarin, and he and Cargill are out in the Dry Towns. Who are you talking about?”

  “They call him Dom Ann’dra,” Magda began, and broke off at the sudden fierce look of triumph on Aleki’s face.

  “I knew it. I knew it, damn it, for all their talk about contracts and this man being in the legitimate employ of Lord Damon! He’s managed to get himself so well in there because he has no known ties with Intelligence—and there’s some talk that the Darkovan nobility use psi powers, so we couldn’t ever plant an undercover Intelligence man on them! They’d read him, read his mind, but this one, somehow they managed to do a real undercover operation; crash his plane out there, have him listed as dead, and now you say this Ann’dra—hell, I saw the man, running all over as Lord Damon’s special sidekick, and I never spotted him myself as Intelligence!”

  “I don’t think it’s like that at all,” Magda said, remembering the man she had met in the stables that morning. This man was one of them, no longer torn between two conflicting worlds; he had found a home. “The Empire has him listed as dead. Maybe he wants it that way.”

  But Aleki was not listening. “I’ve got to find out what he knows. Just now, when we’re making really crucial decisions about Darkover, he could be the key to the whole thing.”

  Conflicting Oaths. As much as the Renunciate Oath meant to her, she was in a sense sworn here too. She was Terran, though she did not want to be, and the thought terrified her. She rose decisively.

  “I really have to go, Monty.” As he rose to escort her, she shook her head. “No, no, I was finding my way around this place when you were still studying for the Service entrance exams!”

  She could see that hurt him. Was he so conscious of himself as novice and of her as expert? He doesn’t deserve anything but good from me. I used him and I despise myself for it, and now I’m trying to make him feel small. What a bitch I am! She let him put his arm round her.

  “Are you going to the Festival Ball in Comyn Castle?”

  “A Renunciate? My dear!” She had to laugh. “The people in the castle don’t know we exist; they’d invite you people first!”

  “Well, that is exactly what they have done,” Monty began, and Aleki said, “As it happens I will be there myself; I came here to tell Monty, and that was one reason I was pleased to find you here, Miss Lorne.” He handed Monty a sheet of elegant parchment.

  “As you can see, it requests the Coordinator, with chosen members of his staff and suite, to attend the Ball as a gesture of good will between Terrans and Darkover,” he said, “and people who have lived here a long time, know how to behave properly, dance well and so forth—such as you, Miss Lorne.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did know,” Monty said. “The old man mentioned it. But what with one thing and another, I never got to mention it to you, Magda.” His grin struck her as oddly boyish and vulnerable, a side of him she had never seen, hiding behind the hard masks Empire men wore. Peter had shown her this side too, and she wondered if all men had it, even Darkover men like Dom Gabriel or Kyril Ardais, hiding behind the imposed roles of their society. Men are as much trapped in their social roles as women. Aren’t they? But they at least had the benefits of those roles; it was easier to play the role of master than of slave!

  Her first impulse was to refuse at once. A Renunciate at Festival Ball, and as part of the Terran delegation? If anyone who had seen her at the Guild House was there, her careful cover of half a year would go up in smoke.

  But they would have to know who she was, sooner or later. She was Terran; why pretend she was not? And it might just be the first chance any Terran woman had ever had or would ever have—to attend Festival Ball in Comyn Castle!

  “You can fill me in on everything I need to know,” Aleki said, “and keep me from making any real social blunders…”

  “And my father will be leading the delegation,” said Monty, “You owe it to all of us to come and keep him from doing something disgraceful.”

  “Oh, surely Jaelle—or Peter—”

  “I’m not sure Jaelle likes me,” Aleki said, “She’s civil enough, but I get the feeling somehow that she’s fighting me. Haldane resents me, and I don’t blame him. His career’s here on this world, and I come and then I go but still he knows my report can make or break him. There’s no way he’s ever going to like me. I’d like to go with someone who’s not hostile to me.”

  She sighed and nodded. “When you put it that way, of course.”

  “Do you have anything to wear? Or shall I have them requisition something for you?”

  “I can do better than that. At Midwinter, Lady Rohana gave me a gown—I wondered when I’d ever have a chance to wear it again.”

  “Shall I fetch you from the Guild House?” Monty asked, and she laughed merrily.

  “Heavens, no! I can imagine the talk that would cause! I love my sisters, but they have one trait I despise in women—they gossip! I don’t grudge them their fun—but I don’t want to be part of it either. I’ll meet you in the street near the castle.”

  She gave Aleki her hand; Monty insisted on taking her to the door.

  I like him better as a colleague than a lover. I would rather be his friend than his mistress. Reluctantly, she let him take a farewell kiss; she did not want to hurt him.

  Walking back through the streets, she remembered that Jaelle ha
d once accused her of being too protective toward men. Probably true, she thought, I’m stronger than most of the men I know, and they’re so damned easy to hurt. The Amazons say it’s wrong to hurt a woman; why is it right to hurt a man?

  Or have so many of them suffered so much at the hands of men—Camilla, for instance—that they no longer believe men can be hurt at all, but are always superior and invulnerable?

  She could feel for Monty—alone and friendless on a strange world—because she remembered when she had been alone on the Alpha colony for training, a stranger from a pioneer world, an exotic, a difficult conquest, there were so many men who had wanted to seduce her because she was alien and different; not because of who or what she was. She had been so lonely. She was lonely now…

  Men are so weak. Or do I surround myself with men who are weak, because the strong ones would challenge me too much?

  There was no one on hall duty, but Rezi came, her hands floury from the kitchen, to let her in.

  “Some of our sisters from Bellarmes Guild House are here for Festival, and you will be going to the women’s dance tonight, won’t you? Camilla said she was going with you.”

  Magda thought she really would have preferred the women’s dance to the dance in the public square of Thendara, but she shook her head. “I am sorry; I am promised elsewhere. I did not think Camilla would have involved me in her plans without asking.”

  Rezi made a rueful gesture. “Very well; but do not come and weep in my lap if Camilla is angry with you!”

  Magda flared, “I am not Camilla’s property nor is she mine!”

  Rezi laughed and shook her head. “You and Camilla must settle your lovers’ quarrels without me.”

  Magda went up the stairs frowning. It had never occurred to her that Camilla might expect, or feel she had a right to expect her company at Midsummer. I should have known. Oath-sisters are family. If it came to that, she thought she would rather be with Camilla, or even with Rezin whom she really did not know well or like much, than with Monty and Aleki and the whole damned Terran delegation! But she had given her word, and it was important to her work.

  She spread her holiday gown on the bed to air; she had showered in the Terran HQ, so she set about brushing up her short hair; while she was at it, Camilla came into the room and stopped short in delighted amazement.

  “How pretty you look, breda! But that gown is too fine for the women’s dance; our sisters from Bellarmes have been on the road for days and have only traveling-wear, and many of the women will be poor widows and the like who would live with us in the Amazon house if they could, but they have children or aging parents they must care for. Festival gowns like that would make them feel very shabby, so we usually do not dress up at all for the women’s dances. Besides, dresses like that are only to attract men!”

  “Oh, Camilla, I am sorry! But I cannot go to with you to the women’s dance, I am expected elsewhere…”

  Camilla’s low voice was filled with ripples of amusement. “And no doubt you have been invited to Comyn Castle and Lord Hastur himself will lead you out to dance!”

  Magda began weakly to giggle. “I don’t know about Lord Hastur,” she began, “but the truth is, Camilla… oh, you’ll never believe this!” She broke off; she could hardly tell Camilla about the Terrans and Alessandro Li’s insistence that it was her duty to come.

  Fortunately Camilla assumed at once that she had had the invitation through Jaelle, who was her oath-mother; and an invitation from Comyn amounted, after all, to a royal command.

  “How splendid! You must tell me all about it afterward, breda. You have no jewels, but I have a necklace of firestones I can lend you; it is just the color to look beautiful with that dress,” she said, and went to fetch it. When Camilla brought it, Magda stared at the precious jewels.

  “Camilla, it’s too much, I can’t take that—”

  “Why not? What is mine is yours,” Camilla said simply, “and it is for sure I shall never dance at Comyn Castle with the Hasturs! It was my mother’s; I saw her only once after—” she hesitated, “after what I told you; but when she died, it was sent to me by a messenger. I never wear jewelry; but there is no reason it should lie forever in a box and not be displayed on the throat of a beautiful woman for once.” She put it round Magda’s neck, and Magda said impulsively, “You are beautiful to me, Camilla!”

  Camilla laughed. “I did not know you suffered also from poor eyesight with all your other troubles,” she said, but she smiled at Magda, and caught her close in a quick embrace. “The Comyn ball ends at midnight,” she said, “and we will go on in the public square till dawn. Come and join us afterward.”

  Magda said impulsively, “I would really rather stay with you. I only wish I could.”

  I would. This isn’t a pleasure for me, it’s going back on duty. Camilla’s worth any ten of them, and more fun to be with.

  Camilla’s face lighted. She said, “Really?” and caught Magda closer still, She held Magda tight, her face buried in Magda’s hair. She whispered “Margali, Margali… you know I love you …” and could not go on. After a minute, when her voice was steady again, she said, “You are not, like Keitha, a cristoforo… it does not horrify you…” and broke off again.

  I should have expected this. I have been backing away from it since I came to this house. I discovered this day that it was not a man I wanted. I did not want Peter, and Monty was no better. I should have known all along…

  I gave myself to Monty and I did not care for him. And Camilla is my sister, my closest friend here, she has cared for me and stood by me when I was in disgrace, whenever I was alone here and needed a friend, there she stood, asking for nothing, offering me love and devotion. In the name of the Goddess herself, how can I blind myself to the truth, how can I give myself to Monty who is nothing to me, and refuse Camilla this? She kissed Camilla’s soft greying curls, raised the woman’s face and kissed her on the lips. Camilla smiled at her, breathless, and Magda said hesitantly, “I—I don’t know—no, I am not a cristoforo, the idea does not—does not trouble me in that way, but 1—I don’t know, I never thought about it—” she fell silent, fumbling for words.

  Never thought about it, that I could love my friends, instead of responding to men who are after all alien to me… she knew that it was more than this, she was not certain, but if she could try to make Monty happy, when he was nothing to her, she was willing—even eager—to turn to Camilla.

  “But I don’t know—I have never—”

  Camilla stopped her confused words with a kiss; but then, taking Magda’s face between her hands, she looked at her seriously.

  “Do you mean this? Even when you were a young girl, you had no bredhya … ?”

  Numbly, Magda shook her head. Never. I had no woman friend, not even an ordinary friend, not a lover, till I came to the Guild House. I did not even know that I wanted a woman for a friend until I discovered myself risking my life for Jaelle.

  It almost seemed to her that Camilla could read her thoughts a little.

  “It’s all right, love,” she said in a whisper. “Love is a simple thing, a very simple thing… come and let me show you how simple.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWO

  « ^ »

  There was nothing inside the HQ to distinguish Midsummer from Midwinter. The light was the same—no windows to throw back the heavy winter draperies, no smell of baking in the air, none of the street sounds of merrymaking. But when Peter came in, she managed to find a smile for him.

  From behind his back, rather self-consciously, he produced one of the baskets of fruit and flowers that vendors sold at this season in the streets. She was touched; he must have gone into the Old Town for it.

  “From Midwinter to Midsummer; we have been together half a year, Jaelle. Who could forget that? And when Midwinter comes again, we shall be a family of three.” He caught her close in his arms, kissing her, and she felt a flood of warmth for him. He had remembered. But it was not, quite, the o
ld warmth. That was gone forever, and there was only emptiness where it had been. As she nibbled on a piece of the fruit, and went to find something to put the flowers in water, she wondered if this was why Renunciates vowed never to marry di catenas; because that first feeling went away so swiftly… he came up behind her, holding her familiarly and whispering in her ear.

  “You must find your finest outfit,” he murmured, “for dancing tonight, even if you don’t do much dancing in your condition—”

  “I don’t really want to go to the public dance in the square,” she demurred. “It’s always so crowded, and there are riffraff— sometimes an Amazon will get into fights with men who want to prove something—”

  “Nonsense,” Peter said. “I’ll be with you; do you think I would let any man lay hands on my wife? Yes, yes, I know, you’re strong, your Oath says you can protect yourself, but if you think I’d let a pregnant woman fight… anyhow, there’s no question of the public dance,” he added. “It’s a famous first for Darkover, darling, and I’m sure you had something to do with it. An invitation has come from Comyn Council for Montray and a delegation from the Terran Headquarters; and of course they specified you and I should make one couple, since you are Darkovan and I have worked so often in the field that I know manners, language, protocol for such things. They are trying to cement good relations by asking certain hand-picked members of the staff—”

  “That would certainly leave out Russ Montray,” Jaelle said, noting that her tone was acid. Peter shook his head.

  ”Unfortunately the Coordinator can’t be left out, but an unofficial word came that I’m supposed to stick to his elbow and make sure he doesn’t do anything too ghastly. And of course Monty will be there. But you’re assigned to stick tight to Cholayna, since she’s never been in the field and never will, and she’s the only woman here with rank suitable for the Coordinator. I wish we could manage to get Magda from the Guild House but I don’t suppose they’d let her go. Between us we’re hoping to keep the Old Man out of trouble.”