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He remembered, but did not say, what an old servant had told him, that they were blown to bits, buriedtogether where they fell, since no living man could tell which bits were his father's, which Dani's brother's.

"I didn't know," Danilo whispered, his eyes wide. Regis, caught in the grip of a strange emotion, said, "It

must be horrible to die like that, but not so horrible if your last thought is to shield someone else...."

Danilo's voice was not entirely steady. "They were both named Rafael and they had sworn to oneanother, and they fought together and died and were buried in one grave-" As if he hardly knew what hewas doing, he reached out to Regis and clasped his hands. He said, "I'd like to die like that. Wouldn'tyou?"

Regis nodded wordlessly. For an instant it seemed to him that something had reached deep down insidehim, an almost painful awareness and emotion. It was almost a physical touch, although Danilo's fingerswere only resting lightly in his own. Suddenly, abashed by the intensity of his own feelings, he let go of Danilo's hand, and the surge of emotion receded. One of the cadet officers came up and said, "Dani, thearms-master has sent for you." Danilo caught up bis shabby leather tunic, pulled it quickly over his shirtand went.

Regis, remembering that he had been up all night, stretched out on the bare straw ticking of his cot Hewas too restless to sleep, but he fell at last into an uneasy doze, mingled with the unfamiliar sounds of the Guard hall the metallic clinking from the armory where someone was mending a shield, men's voices, verydifferent from the muted speech of the monastery. Half asleep, he began to see a nightmarish sequence offaces: Lew Alton looking sad and angry when he told Regis be had no laran, Kennard pleading for Marius, bis grandfather struggling not to betray exhaustion or grief. As

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he drifted deeper into the neutral country on the edge of sleep, he remembered Danilo, handling the wooden practice swords at Nevarsin. Someone whose face Regis could not see was standing close behind him; Danilo moved abruptly away, and he heard through the dream a harsh, shrill laugh, raucous as the scream of a hawk. And then he had a sudden mental picture of Danilo, his face turned away, huddled against the wall, sobbing hearthrokenly. And through the dreamlike sobs Regis felt a shocking overtone of fear, disgust and a consuming shame....

Someone laid a careful hand on his shoulder, shook him lightly. The barracks room was filled with thedimness of sunset. Danilo said, "Regis? I'm sorry to wake you, but the cadet-master wants to see you. Do you know the way?"

Regis sat up, still a little dazed by the sharp edges of nightmare. For a moment he thought that Danilo'sface, bent over him in the dim light, was actually red and flushed, as if he had been crying, like in thedream. No, that was ridiculous. Dani looked hot and sweaty, as if he'd been running hard or exercising. Probably they'd tested his swordplay. Regis tried to throw off the remnants of dream. He went into thestone-floored washroom and latrine, sluiced his face with the par-alyzingly cold water from the pump. Back in the barracks, tugging his leather tunic over Dani's patched shirt, he saw Danilo slumped on hiscot, his head in his hands. He must have done badly at his arms-test and he's upset about it, he decided,and left without disturbing his friend.

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Inside the armory there was a second-year cadet with long lists in his hands, another officer writing at stable and Dyan Ardais, seated behind an old worm-eaten desk. Because the afternoon had turned warm,his collar was undone, his coarse dark hair clinging damoly around his high forehead. He glanced up. and Regis felt that in one swift feral glance Dyan had learned evervthin? he wanted to know about him.

"Cadet Hastur. Getting along all right so far?"

"Yes, Lord Pvan."

"Just Captain Ardais in the Guard hall, Regis." Dvan looked him over aeain, a slow evaluating stare that made Regis uncomfortable. "At least they taught you to stand straight at Nevarsin. You should see the way some of the lads stand!" He consulted a long sheet on his desk. "Regis-Rafael Felix Afar Hastur-Elhalyn. You prefer Regis-Rafael?"

THE HERITAGE OF HASTUR

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"Simply Regis, sir."

"As you wish. Although it seems a great pity to let the name of Rafael Hastur be lost. It is an honored

name."

Damn it, Regis thought, I know I'm not my father! He knew he sounded curt and almost impolite as hesaid, "My sister's son has been named Rafael, Captain. I prefer not to share my father's honor before Ihave earned it."

"An admirable objective," Dyan said slowly. "I think every man wants a name for himself, rather than resting on the past. I can understand that, Regis," After a moment, with an odd impulsive grin, he said, "It must be a pleasant thing to have a father's honor to cherish, a father who did not outlive his moment of glory. You know, I suppose, that my father has been mad these twenty years, without wits enough to know his son's face?"

Regis had only heard rumors of old Kyril Ardais, who had not been seen by anyone outside Castle Ardais for so long that most people in the Domains had long forgotten his existence, or that Dyan was not Lord Ardais, but only Lord Dyan. Abruptly, Dyan spoke in an entirely different tone.

"How tall are you?"

"Five feet ten."

The eyebrows went up hi amused inquiry. "Already? Yes, I believe you are at that. Do you drink?"

"Only at dinner, sir."

"Well, don't start. There are too many young sots around. Turn up drunk on duty and you'll be booted, no excuses or explanations accepted. You are also forbidden to gamble. I don't mean wagering pennies on card games or dice, of course, but gambling substantial sums is against the rules. Did they give you a manual of arms? Good, read it tonight. After tomorrow you're responsible for everything in it. A few more things. Duels are absolutely forbidden, and drawing your sword or knife on a fellow Guardsman

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will break you. So keep your temper, whatever happens. You're not married, I suppose. Handfasted?"

"Not that I've heard, sir."

Dyan made an odd derisive sound. "Well, make the best of h; your grandfather will probably have youmarried off before the year's out. Let me see. What you do in off-duty time is your own affair, but don'tget yourself talked about. There's a rule about causing scandalous talk by scandalous behavior.

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THE HERITAGE OF HASTUR

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I don't have to tell you that the heir to a Domain is expected to set an example, do I?"

"No, Captain, you don't have to tell me that." Regis had had his nose rubbed in that all his life and he

supposed Dyan had too.

Dyan's eyes met his again, amused, sympathetic. "It's unfair, isn't it, kinsman? Not allowed to claim any Comyn privileges, but still expected to set an example because of what we are." With another swiftchange of mood, he was back to the remote officer, "In general, keep out of the Terran Zone for your .. -amusements."

Regis was thinking of the young Terran officer who, before they parted, had again offered to show himmore of the spaceport whenever he wished. "Is it forbidden to go into the Terran Zone at all?"

"By no means. The prohibition doesn't apply to sightseeing, shopping or eating there if you have a taste for exotic foods. But Terran customs differ enough from ours that getting entangled with Terran prostitutes, or making any sexual advances to them, is likely to be a risky business. So keep out of trouble. To put it bluntly-you're supposed to be grown up now-if you have a taste for such adventures, find them on the Darkovan side of the line. Zandru's hells, my boy, aren't you too old to blush? Or hasn't the monastery worn off you yet?" He laughed. "I suppose, brought up at Nevarsin, you don't know a damn thing about arms, either?"

Regis welcomed the change of subject this time. He said he had had lessons, and Dyan's nostrils flared incontempt. "Some broken-down old soldier earning a few coins teaching the basic positions?"

"Kennard Alton taught me when I was a child, sir." "Well, we'll see." He motioned to one of the junior

officers. "Hjalmar, give him a practice sword."

Hjalmar handed Regis one of the wood and leather swords used for training. Regis balanced it in hishand. "Sir, I'm very badly out of practice."

"Never mind," Hjalmar said, bored. "Well see what kind of training youVe had."

Regis raised his sword in salute. He saw Hjalmar lift an eyebrow as he dropped into the defensive stance Kennard had taught him years ago. The moment Hjalmar lowered his weapon Regis noted the weakpoint in his defense; he feinted, sidestepped and touched Hjalmar almost instantly on the

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thigh. They reengaged. For a moment there was no sound but the scuffle of feet as they circled one another, then Hjalmar made a swift pass which Regis parried. He disengaged and touched him on the shoulder.

"Enough." Dyan threw off his vest, standing in shirtsleeves. "Give me the sword, Hjalmar."

Regis knew, as soon as Dyan raised the wooden blade, that this was no amateur. Hjalmar, evidently,was used for testing cadets who were shy or completely unskilled, perhaps handling weapons for the firsttime. Dyan was another matter. Regis felt a tightness in his throat, recalling the gossip of the cadets: Dyanliked to see people get rattled and do something stupid.

He managed to counter the first stroke and the second, but on the third his parry slid awkwardly along Dyan's casually turned blade and he felt the wooden tip thump his ribs hard. Dyan nodded to him to goon, then beat him back step by step, finally touched him again, again, three times in rapid succession. Regis flushed and lowered his sword.

Then he felt the older man's hand gripping his shoulder hard. "So you're out of practice?"

"Very badly, Captain."

"Stop bragging, chiyu. You made me sweat, and not even the arms-master can always do that. Kennard taught you well. I'd halfway expected, with that pretty face of yours, you'd have learned nothing but courtly dances. Well, lad, you can be excused from regular lessons, but you'd better turn out for practice every day. If, that is, we can find anyone to match you. If not, I'll have to work out with you myself."

"I would be honored, Captain," Regis said, but hoped Dyan would not hold him to this. Something about the older man's intense stare and teasing compliments made him feel awkward and very young. Dyan's hand on his shoulder was hard, almost a painful grip. He turned Regis gently around to look at him. He said, "Since you already have some skill at swordplay, kinsman, perhaps, if you like the idea, I could ask to have you assigned as my aide. Among other things, it would mean you need not sleep in the barracks."

Regis said quickly, "I'd rather not, sir." He fumbled for an acceptable excuse. "Sir, that is a post foran-an experienced cadet. If I am assigned at once to a post of honor, it will look as if I am takingadvantage of my rank, to be excused

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from what the other cadets have to do. Thank you for the honor, Captain, but I don't think I-I ought to

accept."

Dyan threw back his head and laughed, and it seemed to Regis that the raucuous laughter sounded alittle like the feral cry of a hawk, that there was something nightmarish about it Regis was caught hi thegrip of a strange deja vu, feeling that this had happened before.

It vanished as swiftly as it had come. Dyan released his grip on Regis' shoulder.

"I honor you for that decision, kinsman, and I dare say you are right. And in training already to be a

statesman, I see. I can find no fault with your answer."

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Again the wild, hawklike laugh.

"You can go, cadet. Tell young MacAran I want to see him."

Chapter SIX

(Lew Alton's narrative)

Father was bedridden during the first several days of Council season, and I was too busy and beset tohave much time for the cadets. I had to attend Council meetings, which at this particular time were mostlyconcerned with some dreary business of trade agreements with the Dry Towns. One thing I did find timefor was having that staircase fixed before someone else broke his leg, or his neck. This was troublesometoo: I had to deal with architects and builders, we had stonemasons underfoot for days, the cadetscoughed from morning to night with the choking dust and the veterans grumbled constantly about havingto go the long way round and use the other stairs.

A long time before I thought he was well enough, Father insisted on returning to his Council seat, which Iwas glad to be out of. Far too soon after that, he returned to the Guards, his arm still in a sling, lookingdreadfully pale and worn. I suspected he shared some of my uneasiness about how well the cadets wouldfare this season, but he said nothing about it to me. It nagged at me ceaselessly; I resented it as much formy father's sake as my own. If my father had chosen to trust Dyan Ardais, I might not have been quite sodisturbed. But I felt that he, too, had been compelled, and that Dyan had enjoyed having the power to do

so.

A few days after that, Gabriel Lanart-Hastur returned from Edelweiss with news that Javanne had bornetwin girls, whom she named Ariel and Liriel. With Gabriel at hand, my father sent me back into the hillson a mission to set up a new system of fire-watch beacons, to inspect the fire-watch stations which hadbeen established hi my grandfather's day