“I am sure they are both extremely virtuous, Ariel, but I am not thinking of marriage.”
Ariel looked shocked. “But your duty is clear. You must marry, and quickly, or else you will be too old to have healthy children.”
Javanne, beside Margaret, appeared ready to explode, and she glared at her daughter, but Ariel seemed unaware of her mother’s ire. “Duty?” Margaret asked quietly, restraining her feelings as well as she was able.
“Of course! Lewis, don’t pinch Kennard! Mother says you have the Alton Gift, and you must have children so it will not be lost. Now, which of my brothers do you like better? I admit Gabe is not much of a talker, but you seem to be, so perhaps a quiet man would suit you.”
That was just too much! “Does anyone on Darkover ever think about anything but conserving laran? You seem obsessed with it,” Margaret snapped.
Ariel recoiled as if she had been struck and Margaret felt like an ill-mannered lout. Of course her cousin was annoying, but that was no reason to snarl at her.
“I did not intend to offend you, cousin. But, indeed, I do not understand your behavior.” Obsessed with laran—how dare she! Is she making fun of me because I have so little? I could kill her, sitting there with her golden eyes, looking at me like a bug. Why is everyone against me?
Ariel spoke with more force than Margaret would have imagined she was capable of, and her pale cheeks flushed with passion. She seemed almost transformed, a different woman entirely. There was a glitter in her eyes that made Margaret want to cringe, for it was not entirely sane. Then her cheeks paled again, and she went on, “I suppose you are just like your father, selfish. It must be your Terranan blood! If you had been raised properly, you would already be married and have children, and know your place.”
“Ariel!” Javanne spoke very sharply, and the crepey skin beneath her determined jaw quivered above the apricot-colored ruff around her throat. I should not have invited her here! No one can control her when she gets like this!
“What? I am sick and tired of everyone tiptoeing around and treating Marguerida like some princess. If no one else will explain her obligations to her, then I will. She is little better than a spoiled child. It is time she started behaving properly, instead of jaunting about the hills with a Renunciate and listening to old people sing. That isn’t a proper occupation for a woman. Jeff says she is a scholar—what is that? Reading books and thinking thoughts that mean nothing!”
Margaret could feel her cousin’s outrage, though she could not imagine why Ariel was so provoked by her. After a moment Margaret realized that whatever was bothering her new cousin, it probably had nothing to do with her. She looked around the table, trying to discern any solution to the puzzle. Jeff looked troubled, and Javanne appeared ready to murder, though Margaret couldn’t decide if she was the intended victim, or Ariel. The children grew still and anxious at the tone of their mother’s shrill voice. Only Liriel seemed unmoved, as she continued to eat steadily.
Uh-oh—Mama’s having another of her spells. Margaret thought that came from Donal, but it might have been one of the other children.
This is my fault! There was no mistaking Javanne’s mental voice, nor the deep sorrow in it. I should never have tried to comfort her for being nearly laranless with the nobility of bearing children. I believe that, but Ariel’s mind is so fragile. I tried to be a good mother, but . . .
Margaret would have given a great deal not to be picking up these scraps of thoughts, but the emotions of her aunt were very powerful, and she did not know enough about telepathy to block them out. At the same time, she found herself retreating into her academic habits, evaluating the information she was receiving. She felt sorry for Ariel. How dreadful it must be to lack a talent that was so highly valued, and present in the other members of the family.
No one understands me! They all think I am stupid and worthless. But I have children, and they are what really matters. If anything happens to my children . . .
This fear was so strong that it made Margaret’s gorge rise. She knew it was something that haunted Ariel every waking moment, and probably in her sleep as well. No wonder she looked so old and worn. It wasn’t child bearing that had aged her prematurely. It was fear. That, at least, was something Margaret understood, and even empathized with.
But why? The boys seemed remarkable hearty—just normal children of the sort she had seen on many planets. And on a planet with high infant mortality, five healthy lads was a wonderful accomplishment. And Liriel said she was pregnant again, this time with the girl child that Ariel clearly wanted. Why was she borrowing trouble?
Margaret’s eyes went from child to child, and came to rest on the face of Domenic Alar. He had large eyes and pale skin with his father’s dark hair. He seemed to have inherited something of his parents’ fretful dispositions, though, for he looked at his mother with an anxious expression. It could not be easy for the boys, living with a woman who clung to them all the time, she decided.
Without really being conscious of what she was doing she glanced between him and his brother Damon, and knew, in that moment, that Domenic would never grow to manhood. It was a shocking sensation, not unlike the way she had felt when she looked at Ivor, the day he died. Margaret was unsettled by the feeling, and when it turned to vision, abruptly, she wanted to run out of the room. As she looked at Domenic, he seemed to wither. For a moment she saw his pale skin spattered with blood, and then as Margaret watched with horror, he became a skeleton, his little hands turning to bones with no skin to cover them.
She heard Liriel’s sharp intake of breath from down the table at the same time Javanne spoke. “Ariel—it is not your place to be speaking of such matters. Your father will decide these things.”
“Lady Javanne, Dom Gabriel will do no such thing!” Margaret was glad to focus on her aunt’s statement in order to distract herself from the terrible vision. If she had to, she decided, she would provoke a fight with her formidable aunt, just to keep from thinking about what she had imagined. It must be that, mustn’t it? Of course! Ariel’s anxiety had caused her to see something, and that had triggered a remembrance of Ivor, and all the sorrow she still carried within her about his death.
“Liriel! Marguerida saw something, didn’t she. Tell me instantly.” Ariel’s voice overrode both Margaret and Javanne. “You tell me right now what you saw, you . . . you monster. You have the Aldaran Gift, don’t you? Don’t you! And you are going to hurt my babies because I was the only one with the courage to tell you . . .”
“Stop!” Liriel’s voice was deep and commanding. “You are making yourself hysterical, Ariel.”
“No, I am not! She saw something! Make her tell!”
Margaret sighed. She longed for the quiet of the road once more, with Rafaella. There, at least, meals were not interrupted by all the strains of relationships. “Cousin, I would not harm your children for anything.” Liriel! I just imagined that, didn’t I? Tell me I only imagined it—please!
No, you did not I assure you that I can tell the difference between a foretelling and imagination. Marguerida, you do possess the Aldaran Gift. We suspected you might, of course. You did see truly, but I thank you for trying to calm my sister. Domenic will not live to father children. Let me handle this, please.
Thank you, Liriel. I’m certainly out of my depth here—the Aldaran Gift as well as the Alton Gift! Cousin, this is quite more than I can handle. I would trade it all for a fast ship to almost any destination! Shall I leave the house? Would that help?
There is nothing that will help Ariel now. When she becomes upset, she loses what little sense she has. It has always been so. Mother hoped she would become calmer when she was settled with her children and Piedro. We thought she would grow out of these fits.
Grow out of them—I know that song and dance all too well!
Yes, I know, cousin.
Margaret was surprised at the ease with which she and Liriel conversed, and she felt a great comfort in her cousin. She seemed to be
so steady and sensible, unlike her twin. It pleased her, even in her growing agitation at the emotions rolling across the table from Ariel, that there was someone on Darkover who could answer some of her questions, and who might even understand her feelings.
Ariel, unaware of this exchange, rose and began to scream. “Do you think because I have many children I can spare one? Piedro! Where is Piedro? I will not spend another moment beneath the same roof with this monster.”
“Stop behaving like a superstitious peasant,” Liriel snapped.
“Ariel, you know perfectly well that the first experiences of laran are unreliable.” Jeff spoke with the calm authority of age and experience, but Ariel was not listening.
“No, I don’t know that! Liriel got all the laran between us.” She stole it in the womb! It isn’t fair! She’s set for life, there in Tramontana, and I am the only one in the family without laran. But I have children, and no one is going to curse my babies. It is all her fault, Marguerida’s. She should have died. I know Piedro only cares for me because I give him children, and I have to watch over them . . . .
“Stop being foolish, sister.”
“Can you swear to me that her vision is false? She’s evil. She is full of ideas, of Terranan ideas, and she is evil.” Ariel leaped from her chair, sending the child on her lap almost onto the floor. Javanne grabbed her youngest grandson as Ariel began to bang her small fist on the table. Her uneaten plate of food went onto the floor, and the goblet followed it.
“Ariel, sit down.” Javanne spoke firmly. Her eyes were large and full of despair, as if she were holding herself together by will alone. I can’t stop her! I never could! I was always terrified of her, when she got upset, and now I feel too old to control her. She was such a sweet baby!
Piedro hurried into the dining room, looking harried and worried. “What is it, my darling?”
“Marguerida foresaw something terrible, and she will not tell me what it was! Get the coach. We are leaving right now! The children will ride inside with me, so I can take care of them.” She leaned to her mother, snatched Kennard away, and glared. Then she turned on Liriel, her face white and furious. “Which one did she see, Domenic or Damon? Tell me!”
“Beloved,” Piedro began gently, taking his wife’s arm. “There is a storm coming in over the hills. We should not set out now. Come, you must not overexcite yourself. Think of the child you bear within you.”
“Get the coach ready!” Ariel was desperate now. “I am not going to sit here and wait around for Marguerida to foresee something else, or to deign to pick one of my brothers. You are all conspiring against me. Piedro saw the futility of trying to reason with his wife, and grasped her arm more tightly, shaking his head.
“No one is conspiring against you, chiya,” Jeff said quietly. I had no idea it was still so bad. Poor woman! Her fears will be the death of her.
“I know what you think of me, that I am a stupid woman fit only for bearing children. I need no laran to know that you all despise me.”
Javanne looked truly shocked by these words, and hurt as well. “Ariel, that is not true. How could you think such a dreadful thing?”
“You never cared a bit for me, so don’t pretend. You couldn’t wait to get me out of Armida! And you!” She rounded on Jeff. “I am not surprised you take her side. For all that you have lived on Darkover for years, you are still a lover of the Terranan. If she had foreseen the death of one of Elorie’s children, would you be so calm? Can you swear to me that her vision is false?”
Jeff looked old and sad and weary. “Only God knows our fates, Ariel.”
Ariel’s eyes narrowed, filled with hate and desperation. “You will never know how much I despise all of you!” She hugged Kennard against her breast with a viselike grip, then grabbed young Lewis with her free hand. Tearing herself free of her husband’s embrace, she started to herd her other children away from the table and out of the room. The sound of her shouts up the stairs echoed back into the dining room, where Margaret, Javanne, Jeff, and Liriel remained in a stunned silence.
“I never realized,” Javanne said at last, “how deeply she resented having no laran. Not until this moment.” She looked older than her years, weary and a little haggard now. “Marguerida, I apologize for my daughter’s foolish behavior. She was a nervous child, and I thought that being married and having children would steady her. I never wished to be rid of her, though it seems that she imagined I did.”
There was no insincerity in her apology, and for the first time Margaret felt a near liking for her aunt. “There is nothing to apologize for, Aunt. I should have kept my face under better control.”
“No, Marguerida. It was not your face which told the tale, but my own and Liriel’s. Your only mistake was not being able to shield your thoughts more closely.” Javanne shrugged. “I will go and try to calm her down. I don’t think I will succeed. Ariel is very stubborn, once she makes her mind up.
She left, and Margaret wished herself light-years away, on some planet where laran was unknown. If only Ivor had not died! If only she had never come to Darkover! If only the Senator had not told her to come to Armida. There was no help for her feelings, and she knew that she just had to endure until she could leave—though where she would go she had not a clue. If only there was someone she could talk to, someone to advise her.
Margaret glanced at Liriel and shook her head. Then she looked at old Jeff and found him watching her, his eyes sad. She had the impulse to trust him, to talk with him. Then the habits of her life resumed, and she withdrew, made herself go cold and distant. She was going to keep herself apart, where she could not injure anyone. So why did her heart ache? And why did she want to cry so badly?
20
Within the hour, Ariel, with a remarkable show of organization for a woman who seemed nearly out of her mind with worry, had marshaled the servants and gotten the baggage packed. She marched her children out the front door, while a desperate-looking Piedro trailed behind her. Outside, there was an odd-looking coach of a sort Margaret had only seen in museums. It was square and high, mounted on six wheels, and pulled by four strong horses. The children climbed in with reluctance, the older ones looking over their shoulders, and the younger howling in protest.
Luggage of all sorts was piled atop the coach, and it didn’t look very stable to Margaret’s untrained eye. Two men sat on a seat at the front, looking uneasily at the clouds gathering above the hills. She was not sufficiently weatherwise about Darkover to guess how long the storm would be in coming, but she thought it would hit long before the Alar family rode the twenty miles to their home. Margaret sighed, shaking her head, as she listened to Javanne pleading with Ariel to reconsider her rash behavior. But Ariel just slammed the coach door in her mother’s face. Piedro Alar, looking even more despondent than usual, mounted a fine horse. She didn’t think he was a very good rider, for his seat was poor. If only she hadn’t had the vision!
Javanne, her expression fierce, stood on the steps and watched the coach start away. It seemed to sway from side to side beneath the load on the roof. Unbalanced, Margaret thought, just like its occupant. Then she cursed herself for being judgmental, and hoped no one had heard her. The coach lumbered down the drive, and a little dust rose around the wheels.
Javanne turned abruptly and started up the stairs. She noticed Margaret was standing just inside the open door, and her expression changed from fierce and worried to just worried. “You must not blame yourself for this, Marguerida. You will, of course, being your father’s child.” Lew always imagined himself much more important than he was. Trying to be someone he wasn’t! Kennard should never have forced him on the Council! He should have made my Gabriel his heir, and then we would not be having this problem at all! I know it is not your fault, but I cannot help how I feel! He was a morbid, prideful child, and you are very like him.
The older woman brushed past her, leaving Margaret stunned and stung by this biting comment. She was puzzled by the resentment she felt from her
aunt, and while she told herself it had nothing to do with her, still she was hurt. It wasn’t her fault Lew was impossible, was it?
Margaret watched Javanne Hastur as she swept up the stairs to the second floor, like some minor goddess. She could see the pride in the way her aunt’s back was held, but she could also sense the despair and rage within the other woman. She was worried about Ariel, and clearly frustrated at her inability to manage her daughter. Javanne, Margaret decided, was not a woman who liked to have her will challenged by anyone. Perhaps that shed some light on the way in which she viewed Lew Alton. Whatever his other faults, she knew her father always did what he thought was right, and she suspected that he and Javanne had probably disagreed on several matters she knew nothing about.
Margaret was going to follow her aunt up the stairs and seek the security of her own chamber when she heard the thump of boots coming down the hall from the rear of the house. Mikhail emerged from beneath the shadow of the stairs, whistling cheerfully and smelling a little of the stables. His face lit up when he saw her, and her heart skipped a beat in her chest. No matter how she argued with herself, what good and logical reasons she gave herself, she still could not help finding the sight of Mikhail Lanart-Hastur delightful. “Marja! Just the person I was looking for!” he began.
“Don’t call me that.” Her father’s nickname for her on Mikhail’s lips was disquieting. “It makes me feel like a child!”
“Forgive me, cousin, for presuming. What shall I call you, then? Marguerida is such a mouthful.” He grinned a little, and his blue eyes twinkled. “I always feel like a child in this house, so why should you be different?”