Miknail was doing a fine job of disturbing the quiet of her mind, without, she suspected, having any hint of her feelings. Which was just as well, she decided. He probably wasn’t anything like the man she imagined, the man she felt she knew already. Margaret wished she could shake the feeling, since it kept her off-balance.
“No, never to his face. My father hates getting older. He used to be able to ride for three days without stopping to eat or sleep, or anything—if you believe his stories. Now a day in the saddle leaves him worn out and irritable. And he has been sick, too, and since he is a man who never gets ill, he is simply furious at the failure of his body to obey his commands. He would have been here days ago, but for that.”
“That explains how he behaved. And I have to say I am grateful he didn’t arrive sooner, because I think he would have burst into my bedchamber and demanded that I get up and follow him to Armida, like a good little girl.”
Mikhail sighed, then shook his head a little sadly. “Was he very rude?”
“Well, he did seem used to having his own way.”
“He’s always like that whether he has been traveling or not.” Mikhail clasped his hands behind him and looked into the fire. I have to work to keep from looking at her! It is intolerable. I have never been so drawn to anyone in my life! She caught me with a look, and I followed her to that place. “He was Captain of the Guard until last year, and he got into the habit of commanding. Or maybe he was always like that. We aren’t close, because of me being Lord Regis’ heir for so long. I was raised at Comyn Castle, and was there for quite a few years. After Lady Linnea had her son, young Danilo, I was no longer first in line, and I returned to Armida. But since I was made Dyan’s paxman, I don’t spend much time there. I mean, he’s fond enough of me in his way, I suppose.” If he is, I don’t know it. He always looks at me as if he would like to strangle me. “So, when are you leaving?”
Margaret was so busy sorting out the thoughts that came to her unbidden, his conflicted feelings of attraction and his distance from his father, that she didn’t answer immediately. When she did, all she said was, “I’m not.”
“What?” Mikhail looked directly at her for an instant, then dropped his eyes. The look made her quiver with a longing she had never before experienced. “You mean you actually defied him? That must have put him in a rare temper.”
“He slammed the door so hard he nearly broke the hinges. He seemed to think that I would just do what he said automatically. He gave me some song and dance about being my legal guardian in the absence of my father. I tried to point out that I wasn’t a child, but he didn’t really listen.”
“Father is a good man, but he doesn’t listen very well. He just makes up his mind and forges ahead. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We can’t help how our parents behave. Tell me, please, if you can, why he wants me to come to Armida. I mean, he’s afraid I’ll claim it or something, so why does he want me there? And who is Jeff? And Javanne? I feel as if I wandered into the middle of a Russian novel.”
“What’s that?”
“A Russian novel? A story where there are thousands of characters and all of them have at least four different names.”
Mikhail laughed again. “That sounds confusing.”
“Believe me, it isn’t any more confusing than trying to keep track of Darkovan bloodlines.”
“Oh. I’ve lived with those all my life, so they don’t seem confusing to me. But I can see how it might be difficult for you. Javanne is my mother; Javanne Hastur, sister to Lord Regis.”
“Ah, that explains something. I mean, I knew she was your mother, but somehow I forgot she was Lord Regis’ sister. You gave me the impression she was old, and so was your father, at that dinner I never got to finish. It’s been days, hasn’t it? My brain is still a little muddled, and all these relatives I never knew about before don’t help.” A faint memory niggled in her mind. “I think my father actually spoke about her once—something about a party and a scratching match. No, not scratching—biting! He has a little scar on one arm, and when I asked him where it came from, he told me that Javanne bit him. Is it the same person?”
He laughed again. “Mother loves to tell that story—she was about nine at the time and already hot-tempered. She and Lew got into some childish argument, and she insisted he take back whatever he had said, and when he wouldn’t, she threw him on the ground, sat on his chest, and bit his arm when he tried to unseat her. It was most unladylike, but Mother was a bit of a hoyden, if Uncle Regis’ accounts are true. In fact, he once said it was a damn shame she had been born female and he male. He was a little tipsy at the time, so I didn’t credit it much.”
“Your mother sounds pretty formidable. Or have the years mellowed her?”
Mikhail grinned widely. “Not to notice. She’s rather wonderful, but strong-minded, you know.”
“I can guess. And with your father being pretty stubborn, I assume they get along perfectly.”
“If shouting at each other and banging on the table is love and harmony, then they have it.”
Margaret was surprised at how comfortable she felt with Mikhail now, as if she could say anything to him. It was a new experience for her and she relaxed into it. And then the chill returned, that feeling that she must keep herself apart, that she must never allow anyone to come close to her. It made her feel pulled in two directions, torn apart by conflicting desires. She could always say anything to Ivor or Ida Davidson, but this was different. This was an attractive man her own age, and she had never felt comfortable in that circumstance before.
Then she felt, more than heard, an answering emotion from Mikhail, as if he, too, were comfortable with her as he had never been with another person. It was a wonderful sensation, but very disquieting for both of them. He could be my friend! I have never had a man friend before, except Ivor, and that was different. But I must not. Something will happen, something terrible, if I allow myself to be drawn to him.
For a moment she tensed, waiting for something. Then she realized that the voice in her head which had always isolated her from others was missing, and the full import of her labors with Istvana Ridenow during her slow recovery began to trickle into her conscious mind. It did not make for comfortable awareness. Indeed, she felt deeply angry, because something in the presence of Ashara within her had caused her to miss having friends, the way other people did.
To distract herself from these troubling thoughts, she asked, “And who is Jeff?”
Mikhail began to pace in front of the fire. “Jeff is Lord Damon Ridenow,” he began, as if that explained everything.
“Ridenow? Not another uncle!”
“I’m afraid so. But we tend to count uncles and aunts as being those people of the immediately previous generation, and Jeff is from the one before that. He is twice your relation, because he is descended from Ellemir Lanart, who is in the Alton line, and from Arnad Ridenow, who is related to your father’s wife.”
“You know, I am starting to regret I am not the sort of person who can go off into hysterics all the time. All these new relatives are driving me crazy. But if he’s Lord Damon, why is he called Jeff?” Confused as she was, Margaret was still extremely curious. And, she discovered, she wanted Mikhail to go on talking to her, because she wanted to be near him for just a little longer. At the same time, part of her wanted to be alone, so that she would not have to feel drawn to the man.
“Has anyone mentioned the Forbidden Tower to you?”
“Istvana might have said something when she was answering my questions.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Let me think. It was about seventy or seventy-five years ago, wasn’t it? That’s where I heard the name Damon Ridenow before! I knew it was familiar. But this Jeff can’t be the same person—he’d be more than a hundred now!”
“No, they are not the same people. Damn! It is an old story, and not a happy one.” He gave a brief sigh. “For centuries all Keepers have been female, and a
lso celibate. Damon Ridenow was the first male Keeper since the Ages of Chaos. He was married to Ellemir Lanart, but he had a daughter by another woman, Jaelle n’ha Melora.”
“N’ha Melora? You mean she was a Renunciate, like Rafaella?”
“Yes, and please don’t interrupt me, because the story is complicated enough without.”
“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t really, because he wasn’t the least bit annoyed with her, and that made her quietly glad.
“Leonie Hastur, who was leronis at Arilinn Tower where your father trained was very distressed, because she and Damon were very close, and she felt betrayed, both by his becoming a Keeper, and then by his fathering children. The Keepers wielded an enormous amount of power, about the only power women had then, and they were rather protective of it.”
“I can see how they would be, considering how women are shuffled off into marriage so young.”
Mikhail grinned at her, then shook his finger like a schoolmaster chiding a naughty student. “I don’t want to get into an argument with you about how we treat our women, Marguerida.”
She thought her name had never sounded so pretty as when he spoke it. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to criticize.” From what Rafaella told me on the trail, there is a lot to criticize, but it is none of my business. No one is going to rush me into any marriages!
“Anyhow, Damon Ridenow established a functioning tower at Armida, with his wife, her twin sister Callista, and a Terranan called Ann’dra Carr. This did not set well, but there was not a great deal that could be done to prevent it, not without a lot of bloodshed. The daughter of Damon and Jaelle was called Cleindori, and she was supposedly one of the most beautiful women who ever walked. If the one painting of her that exists is anything to judge by, that is true. She went to Arilinn and became a leronis, and started to create a formal science using matrices, which we had not had for centuries.” He sighed. “We lost a lot during the Ages of Chaos, a lot of knowledge, and we still haven’t entirely recovered it.”
“Why? I mean, I don’t understand these matrices to begin with, although I know they work like focuses. I would think that if the Darkovans have been using them for centuries, they would have developed a formal science a long time ago.”
“You are quite right, but the destruction that happened during the Ages of Chaos made us very wary—there was a lot of misuse, and we were afraid to return to the ways of our ancestors.”
“So what happened to Cleindori?”
“She broke the rules. I guess she took after her father. She married Arnad Ridenow, which was unheard of for a Keeper to marry. That was bad enough, but she kept her laran! And that did not go down well, because it had been established for years that only a virginal woman could have a Keeper’s laran. She was just as powerful as before, which upset everything.”
“I can tell you are uncomfortable discussing this, and I don’t know quite why.”
“Well, I have never discussed virginity with a woman my own age, and it feels really odd. You aren’t embarrassed?”
“Should I be? It isn’t like I don’t know about sex, Mikhail. I mean, I’ve been to University,” she added playfully.
He laughed, throwing back his head so the fire glowed against his golden hair. “Of course! You are a sophisticated woman, and I am a backwoods yokel.”
“Don’t be silly! You are clearly intelligent, and that is what really matters.”
He smiled and gave a little sigh. “Yes, I am the clever one in my family, which is perhaps why my father and I do not get along. The Old Man is very suspicious of clever people.”
“People like my father, you mean.”
“Precisely!”
“Why? I have the impression that your father and mine were friends once, a long time ago.”
“They were, indeed. But my father was always in Lew Alton’s shadow, and he resented it. That is my own guess, not anything that I know for certain. My father never anticipated holding the Alton Domain, and he got it because your father left Darkover, so he has always felt that he got second prize, as it were. And you coming back has upset his cart a bit. Please, try to be patient with him. He is a good man, but he is very set in his ways, old-fashioned as they are.”
Margaret was not entirely sure she knew what he meant by old-fashioned, but she discovered she wanted to please Mikhail. It was a surprising feeling because, other than with her musicology, she had never wanted to please someone, not since she was a child and had felt rejected at home. “I will do my best. But you still haven’t finished explaining this Jeff person, who is my uncle once removed, or my cousin, or both. Are all Darkovan families this complicated?”
“Mostly they are, yes. Remember, we have been intermarrying for generations, so all the Domains are connected to one another by blood, as well as by loyalties. Thank you for being willing to be patient with my father. I know how trying he is, but he is completely devoted to Darkover, and that sometimes makes him narrow-minded.” He gave her a wide grin, as if they were partners. “Where was I?”
“You had gotten as far as Cleindori and Arnad.”
“They had a child, another Damon Ridenow, named after his grandfather, who was later adopted and taken to Terra, where he was called Jeff Kerwin, Jr., after Cleindori and Arnad were murdered by some fanatics who could not see that it did not matter whether a Keeper was virginal or not.”
“How sad.”
“It was worse than sad! It was stupid and tragic!” He was outraged, as if the event had just happened.
“Yes, I can see that.”
“Some years later, Jeff returned to Darkover and discovered who he was. He found he had very strong laran and went to Arilinn to be trained, but he kept the name he had grown up with. Because of his descent from the earlier Damon, he was the legal heir to the Alton Domain. He renounced that claim in favor of your father, because he wanted to remain in Arilinn. After the Sharra Rebellion, when your father left Darkover to become our Senator, he also renounced his claim to the Domain, because our laws state that the head of a Domain must reside on Darkover. That is how my father ended up with Armida. And he has been a good husbandman to it, and loves it, so your return makes him very uneasy. Technically, Jeff could assert his claim again, though he wouldn’t. Basically, it is all a terrible tangle, and your being here makes it worse.”
“I think I liked it better before you explained. It sounds as if there are too many people with a claim on the Alton Domain, doesn’t it? My brain feels battered.” She frowned. “Where does the Lanart name come from?” Margaret was trying to make some sense of all this geneology and failing miserably.
“The Lanarts are a cadet branch of the Alton line.”
“So, that’s why your father is a Lanart-Alton?”
“Yes.”
“But it sounds like this Jeff isn’t actually related at all—he is the grandson of that Jaelle and the older Damon Ridenow, not of his wife Ellemir Lanart. Is that right?”
“As far as it goes, yes. But Marcella Ridenow married Esteban Lanart, and their daughters were Callista and Ellemir and . . .”
“Stop!” she protested, suddenly very tired. “My brain won’t take another fact! I’ll just accept that this Jeff—Lord Damon Ridenow—is kind of my uncle, except he isn’t. If I didn’t know some of the kinship patterns in other cultures, I would think you were all crazy!”
“I never realized how complicated it was until I tried to explain it to you.” Mikhail paused. “Pity there is only one chair in here. My legs are getting tired.” If she were anyone else, I’d just sit on the floor. But that wouldn’t be good manners. Funny. I only met her a tenday ago, but I feel as if I have known her for forever.
“I know. This is a funny room, isn’t it—so few furnishings? I still don’t understand why your father thinks I need to meet Lord Damon, though. For that matter, I don’t understand half of what has happened since I arrived.” She ignored the trickle of thoughts, which were just as puzzling as his explanation of the intricacie
s of the family. Why shouldn’t he sit on the floor?
“My Old Man is a stickler for protocol, when it suits him. So he has probably invited Jeff to come from Arilinn, to observe all the proprieties, and as a disguise for his actual intention.”
“And what might that be?”
“To marry you off to one of my brothers as quickly as possible.”
“Your brothers? Not you?”
“My father tries not to think of me whenever possible, except when he orders me to do something I don’t wish to. As I said, we have not been close since Lord Regis made me his heir. So he and Mother would want you for Gabriel or Rafael.” I am not even considered—I am the outsider. If Regis had not had me educated, perhaps it would have been different. The Old Man doesn’t trust me. Damn!
“Why?” Margaret could understand the logic in Regis Hastur making one of his sister’s sons his heir, until he had children of his own. With the Darkovan obsession with keeping the Domains intact, anything else would have been thought insane.
“I’m the youngest.”
“But you are my age or thereabouts! So your brothers are older and still unmarried? Isn’t that rather unusual?”
Mikhail almost scowled. It made his face look strong and interesting, rather than otherwise. “It is practically a scandal, if you must know. Every time I go to Thendara, Lady Linnea has a sweet girl of good family just panting to meet me, or Regis tactfully suggests I might wish to meet this lass or that. I have been hunted by women most of my life, for as long as I was Regis’ heir, for my position or potential one. It has given me a very poor opinion of them, because I never know if I am being sought for who I am or for my connections. And if anything happened to Gabe and Rafael, I’d have also inherited the Alton Domain. Now that you are here, everything has changed.”