“I feel as if I had been pulled through a knothole backward, if you want the truth. The ride from Thendara took more out of me than I imagined—it has been a long time since I spent much time on a horse. But how do I feel about Neskaya rather than Arilinn? I have been gone too long to be able to judge. And frankly, I have been so out of my mind with worry about Diotima that I don’t trust my judgment any further than I can toss it. I would like to discuss this with Regis.” He patted his daughter lightly on her shoulder. “But my Marja may be right, and a wiser Alton Gift sounds to me an excellent idea. I wonder why no one has thought of it sooner.”
“Thank you.” Margaret could not remember her father ever praising her before, and she wanted to cry with gladness. She stroked Donal’s hair softly and felt more content than she had ever imagined she could.
“Marguerida can leave for Neskaya . . .” Liriel began.
“I am not going anywhere until I have seen Dio!” Now that she had decided her course of action, she wanted to put it off as long as possible.
“Of course you must see Diotima, chiya.” Jeff nodded, as if he approved of her feelings. “While you are in our company, I think you will come to no harm. So, tomorrow—well, it is already tomorrow—but after we have rested, we will go to Thendara, then.” Jeff sipped from his mug. “Something is bothering you, Lew, something that has nothing to do with Diotima’s illness.”
“True, but it will keep. I am so used to the urgency of the Senate, where the fate of worlds is decided in hours, that I forget how slowly time moves here at home.” Home! My exile is ended, and it is nothing like I imagined. My daughter is a woman grown, and she is the future of Darkover. I am the past, yet I am home at last. But I want to get back to Dio. And soon. I will have Marja and Dio together for the first time in so long—my family!
When Margaret finally pried her eyes open, it was late afternoon and she was very hungry. She rubbed her eyes and reflected that she seemed to eat a great deal more on Darkover than she ever had before, but it didn’t seem to show around her waist. She wondered where the food was going, and decided it must be used up by laran. Margaret looked for Rafaella, but she was nowhere to be seen, so her cold must be better. She tried to sort out her memories of the previous night, then gave it up and headed for the bathroom.
When she had bathed and dressed, Margaret started downstairs. She could hear voices, and they were angry. As she climbed down the steps, she could hear her father and Lady Javanne going at it hammer and tongs, with old Jeff and Liriel attempting to play peacemakers.
“You promised you would never come back, Lew, and you have broken your word. You can’t just dance in here after twenty years and expect to take up where you left off!” Javanne sounded tired, as if she had been arguing for a long time.
“The last thing I would wish to do is take up where I left off, Javanne. I remember more vividly than you can imagine what events precipitated my departure.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it! Even you are not so great a fool as to bring another rebellion to Darkover. But you can’t reclaim Armida. I won’t have it. We’ve taken care of it for all these years, and, frankly, you don’t deserve it.”
“I don’t remember asking to have Armida back,” Lew said in a voice which Margaret recognized as a dangerous one.
“Mother, I think you are being unreasonable.”
“Be quiet, Liriel. I can’t imagine why you are so disloyal, but it is no more than I expected. You were always willful!”
Margaret walked into the great living room, where some hours before she had left her body and gone to the overworld, and looked at the gathering. There were more people in the room than she had expected, for Gabe stood before the fire, glowering, and Piedro Alar sat in one of the chairs, looking tired and miserable. Then she saw Mikhail, half hidden in shadow at one end of the room, and her heart quickened.
“Good afternoon,” Margaret said. “I seem to have slept the day away.”
“Good afternoon, cousin,” Mikhail answered, smiling at her. “I trust you are well-rested.”
Javanne glared at her and stiffened. She seemed uncertain what to do. “You do not appear any the worse for your adventures in my house, Marguerida.”
“Oh, a little rain doesn’t bother me,” she replied, giving her aunt a maddening smile.
Javanne’s determined jaw squared above her concealing ruff. “I was not speaking of that, and you know it perfectly well.”
“Yes, I do. I know you do not like me, that you would not have me for a daughter but to keep Armida, and that you believe you know best for everyone. Well, you don’t. No one does.”
There was a shocked silence at this bald statement, and Margaret reddened slightly. There was no use in pretending, she felt, that things were well and that Javanne would ever like her. She could sense Mikhail tensing, and she was sorry she had upset him, but she would not take her words back.
“I have nothing but kindness toward you, Marguerida. But your very existence presents a problem—a problem I believe can best be solved by your marriage to Gabriel as quickly as possible. Then your father’s claim to Armida can be disposed of.”
“The years have not lessened your high-handedness, Javanne,” Lew said, laughing. The terrible thing is that I can even see her viewpoint—I am the interloper, just as I was when I was a boy. And she never could see that her way was not the only way. I’d feel sorry for her, if I didn’t want to wring her neck.
“That would be a good solution for you, Aunt, but it would never do for me, and it would not be kind to Gabriel either. I would make a very poor wife for him, and you know it. We would be ready to murder each other inside a week.”
“I am certain that if you tried, you would realize what a good man my son is.”
“Mother, I can speak for myself!” Gabe frowned and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “And I think Marguerida is right. I don’t think it would take as much as a week!”
Javanne looked ready to argue, but her eldest son gave her a shrug of his broad shoulders, and she held her tongue. “Then, I suppose, we should all leave for Thendara as quickly as possible. We will let the Cortes settle the matter, both of who owns Armida, and the problem of Marguerida’s marriage.” She looked suddenly smug, as if she knew something no one else did.
Piedro Alar stirred. He looked miserable and uncomfortable, and his eyes were dark with lack of sleep. “You great folk are very busy worrying about land and marriage, but what about my son?” There was a stubbornness in his weak jaw, as if he knew he was speaking out of turn, but was determined to have his say. “And my wife, whose mind is nearly overset.”
Everyone except Gabe looked embarrassed, and Margaret bit her lower lip hard. She had almost forgotten about the injured little boy lying upstairs, and his mother as well.
“I monitored him before I came downstairs,” Liriel said slowly. “He is resting—indeed, he seems to be sleeping well. But I think he must be removed to Arilinn as quickly as possible. I believe it will be safe to move him tomorrow.” I do not like the sound of his breathing at all. “It will be best, I believe, if Mother and I take Domenic and Ariel to Arilinn.”
“But . . .” Javanne protested, looking as if she had suddenly had an advantage snatched from her grasp.
“No one can manage Ariel as well as you do, Mother,” Liriel interrupted. “And she will need your support, for you know how she becomes anxious at the least thing.”
“At first light, then, tomorrow, we will return to Thendara,” Jeff said calmly. “I want to see Diotima before I myself return to Arilinn, so I will accompany you. Will that suit you, Marguerida? Lew? And you, Mikhail?”
“What? Mikhail has no reason to go with you!” Javanne was outraged, but Gabe gave his youngest brother a slight nod, as if he were relieved. “I won’t have it! Mikhail must go back to Ardais.”
Margaret gave Mikhail a quick glance, because she could not decide why Gabe’s attitude had changed so abruptly. He was not a man t
o give in to reason, she believed. What had happened?
I told Gabe about our little adventure with Donal, and pointed out that unless he thought he could keep you gagged, he would have to live in fear of the Voice for the rest of his life. And, considering how the two of you aggravate one another, it would be a brief one. Mikhail’s voice in her mind had a tone of satisfaction, as if he had paid off several old debts in a single moment.
But, Mikhail—I wouldn’t! Well, I don’t think I would.
I know that, and you know that, but since my brother cannot imagine having any advantage and not using it, he took my suggestion very much to heart.
Mik! Aren’t you ashamed? Margaret could barely contain her laughter.
Not in the least. I did it for his own good!
“This is intolerable,” Javanne began, “and I will not . . .”
“Mother, stop making a fool of yourself,” Liriel said firmly. “I think events are well outside your control, and the best thing you can do is accept that. This is more than a matter of lands and marriages now. Much more.”
Javanne stared at her daughter, her mouth gaping slightly. She looked so angry and thwarted that Margaret almost felt sorry for her. “I don’t understand any of this! I just don’t know what Darkover is coming to.” I cannot stand by and let this happen! Why did Ariel have to rush off and get my grandson hurt? Was ever a woman more tried than I? Oh, my! I must not lose my senses—I am behaving very badly, as badly as Lew ever did. And he knows it, curse him!
“I believe that Darkover is coming into the future, Javanne,” Jeff said, “and I think it will be very exciting.”
24
It was the warmest day Margaret had seen since she had arrived on Darkover, as if the storm had blown away the cold and left a blessed heat behind it. While Jeff complained a little of the heat, she was enjoying it. And being out of the sour influence of her aunt helped immeasurably. Javanne had continued to present arguments all during a long dinner and into the evening, until everyone was heartily sick of it, even the usually loyal Gabe.
The sky was clear, a rosy bowl above their heads, and a little breeze moved around them, ruffling Margaret’s unruly hair pleasantly. Rafaella rode beside Margaret, looking pleased to be on the road back to Thendara. Lew and Jeff rode ahead of them, talking quietly.
Although they had planned to set out all together, Liriel and Javanne had remained behind. Ariel had proved more resistent than anyone had imagined, and she had been torn about leaving her younger children in the charge of their nurse. It would be several hours before they left for Arilinn, and Margaret was not unhappy at this change of plans.
She was unhappy, however, that Mikhail was not part of the company. Javanne had been utterly adamant that he not go to Thendara, and had ordered him to return to Ardais immediately. She had looked as if she wished he had never been born, and Mikhail, his face red with rage, had ridden off from Armida even before she had left. He had said no farewell, just gotten on his big bay horse and thundered away, as if the devil were on his heels.
Instead of dwelling on his absence, Margaret concentrated on enjoying the warm day, and the quiet pleasure of once more being on the road with Rafaella. The Renunciate was still sniffling from time to time, and seemed disinclined to talk much, but she smiled at Margaret occasionally, sharing the good mood which was almost irresistible under the open sky.
“You will be glad to be back in Thendara, won’t you?” Margaret asked.
“You know I will! I have been in a few tight places—with hill bandits and avalanches and the occasional banshee looking for a meal. But, Marguerida, I confess that I would take all of those combined rather than sit through another meal at Domna Javanne’s table. I have never been so uncomfortable in all my life!”
She laughed. “That makes two of us. Even my father, who is a formidable opponent, was rather . . .”
The sound of rapid hoofbeats behind them made Margaret pause and turn around in her saddle. Mikhail, a little red-cheeked from riding, came into view, and slowed his horse to a trot. His eyes danced with mischief, and his hair was tousled from the slight breeze. She was surprised to see him, but not that surprised. He had a talent for turning up unexpectedly. He grinned at her, and she grinned back, as if they shared a secret delight—which, she decided, they did indeed. Margaret felt a little guilty in her pleasure, but not greatly.
Mikhail reined his horse in beside her, with Rafaella on her other side. “Greetings, cousin. How nice to see you again so soon. And to you, Mestra Rafaella. I trust your cold is improved.”
“And greetings to you,” she answered, enjoying the game immensely. “Somehow, I had the impression you were being an obedient son and were on your way back to Castle Ardais.”
“One must never judge by appearances.” He forced his merry face into an attitude of seriousness that fooled no one. “If I gave Mother the mistaken impression I was returning to Ardais as she directed me to, then she was deceived. I feel perfectly dreadful for deceiving her, as well I should.” He did not look at all ashamed, but appeared to be enjoying himself enormously. He stroked his horse’s neck and the broad grin came back.
Jeff and Lew had noticed the new arrival, and dropped back to greet him. “She should know by now that you always do what you wish,” Jeff answered peacefully, as if Mikhail’s appearance was no surprise to him at all. “I would think, after all these years, that she would stop trying to bring you to a sense of your duties and just let you go your own way.”
“What a sad reflection on my character, Uncle Jeff, that I am undutiful and disobedient as well. Perhaps she will disown me, and I will have to learn to live by my wits or something.” There is always mushroom farming to fall back on, I suppose!
Margaret was nearly overset by this last. She was glad that Mikhail had the strength to stand up to Javanne, even though she suspected it was going to cause trouble in the future. She knew it was not the first time he had done so, and she suspected he had always been much more independent than his family liked. She wondered where it came from, that ability to quietly rebel, and guessed it might be from his exposure to Terran ideas. No wonder his father and mother disapproved of him so much. How it must have chafed him to remain Dyan Ardais’ paxman, when he had been promised something more, without, it seemed losing either his curiosity or his sense of humor. She decided she approved of those qualities in her cousin, and wished she had more of them herself. Then she laughed at herself a little. Mikhail did not need her approval.
No, I don’t, but I rather bask in the glow of it anyhow.
Snoop!
No, you were broadcasting rather forcibly.
Damn! I am starting to feel like a comsat, sending out stuff whether I mean to or not.
For one who has had no training, Marguerida, you do quite well in keeping your thoughts to yourself. I think a few months in a Tower will show you how to control the Gift. I’m rather rusty, as I discovered while we were looking for that brat of Ariel’s, and I think I should go back and study laran a bit.
Rusty? I could feel you while we were working, and you seemed fine to me.
Using laran requires a lifetime’s study, Marguerida.
Oh, I hope not. I don’t want to spend my years locked up in a Tower!
What do you want?
This was the third time he had asked her that question, and Margaret mused over it once more. When she had been in her teens, she had only wanted to remove herself from the home where she felt unloved and unwanted. At the University she had tried journalism, thinking she wanted to be a writer of some sort, and discovered Ivor Davidson and music. She had chosen music, but she knew now she was never actually consumed by it, not with the passion that Ivor had felt for his work. It was just something she could do well, that she enjoyed doing, but only a job, not a calling.
Ashara’s interference with her mind had prevented her from wanting either a husband or a family, had forced her to be alone whether she wished it or not. Now that restriction was gone
, and it had left a vacuum in her, an empty space where the forceful personality of the long-dead Keeper had held her captive. There had been too much else going on for her to think about what she might like to do with her life. And it was still very difficult to let anyone close, much as she longed for intimacy.
With a mild start Margaret realized that the cause of some of her antipathy toward her Aunt Javanne stemmed from her feelings toward Ashara. They were not at all alike, really, but they both thought they could control her and command her for their own ends. She realized she had very little tolerance for being dominated ever again. By anyone, even Mikhail.
For a moment, she felt she stood on a knife-edge. She could no longer deny her feelings for her cousin, could not pretend she merely liked him. Everyone, including his mother, was quite aware of her actual feelings for Mikhail. She knew she loved him, but did she love him enough to be subservient to him? Wasn’t that what would be expected of her, if she married him or any other Darkovan man? She had only just gotten free of Ashara, and she didn’t want another master in the place of the dead Keeper. Not even one as good as Mikhail.
I must remain on Darkover, I suppose, and study my Gift.
You don’t sound very thrilled at the prospect!
You have lived in a telepathic society your whole life, Mik, but for me it is a brand new thing, and not a wonderful one. I had my life planned out, until Ivor died. I was going to be his assistant, and in some foggy future, I would become a full Professor on my own, and just continue to do research. It is difficult for me to just drop all that and turn into a nice Darkovan girl who does what she is told!
I was not suggesting anything of the sort, and you know it! You are no better at being obedient than I am! What are you good at, besides music?