Traitor's Sun (24 page)

Katherine smiled and her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Gisela appeared right after breakfast with these clothes—but no apology. She ordered a carriage and went with me. It was rather enjoyable, actually, and we talked over a good many things. I don’t know what caused her change of heart, but I rather suspect it was something that man next to her at dinner said to her.”

“Danilo?”

“I don’t know—he arrived late, and somehow I was never introduced to him.”

“That was Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, paxman to the late Regis Hastur, among other things. Having just spent several hours in his company, I can well imagine him putting Giz in her place.”

“Paxman—I’ve heard that term several times, but no one has bothered to tell me what it means, Herm—like so many other things.” Her good mood seemed to recede a little, and she looked as if she might be nursing a grievance. Well, he could hardly blame her if she were.

“Umm—it is a bit hard to define. The paxman is a personal guard, and in the case of Danilo or young Donal Alar, also an advisor, constant companion, brother-in-arms. When Mikhail was a young man, he was paxman to young Dyan Ardais, even though he was also Regis’ heir. I suppose it is one of the ways in which we keep ourselves connected to one another. And, Katherine, I am sorry about how badly my sister has behaved.”

“She’s just a little jealous, Herm.”
And restless, like you are most of the time, my dearest.

“Of what?” He sat up.

“Of me. You are her brother, and her favorite one, if I read things correctly.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Hmm . . . yes, she never favored Robert, who is the best of men, but a bit . . . ponderous, and our other brothers—the
nedestro
sons—never gave her much attention, I suppose. But I still don’t understand why she should be jealous of you.”

“It is a female thing,” Katherine answered easily. She had ended her trip with Gisela in a good mood, and she wanted to keep it.

“Ah, one of the mysteries.”

“Yes.”

Herm looked at her, trying to read her expression, realized she was not going to say more, and decided not to press her. “And how was your visit with Master Gilhooly?”

“Delightful. He showed me around the workshops and we talked technique. It strained my vocabulary to the utmost, and without Gisela’s help I would have had a much more difficult time. She told me she had read some old book about painting and had picked up the words from it. She can be very charming when she wants to.”

“Gisela read a book on painting? Amazing.”

Katherine gave him a look he recognized. She was beginning to become annoyed with him, and he had better mind his words. “She tells me she has read just about everything in the archives during the past fifteen years, out of boredom, as near as I can gather. Poor thing.”

This was completely unexpected, and Herm did not know what to make of it. Something had clearly happened between the two women during their outing, and it worried him more than a little, although he could not decide why. Still, she had come to no harm, and apparently found his sister interesting. “This is the first time I have seen your eyes really sparkle in days, Kate. Just promise me you will not come to the table smelling of turps, or with a smudge of charcoal on your lovely nose.”

Katherine grinned broadly. “I will try not to disgrace you, my lord. But, remember, I was not raised to be a great lady, or even a medium one. I feel a bit stifled by all this formality, which made my visit to Master Gilhooly all the more pleasurable. After he recovered from the initial shock of
Domna
Aldaran—I haven’t adjusted to the title yet, being bowed to and treated like I was important—entering his establishment, and in the company of Gisela as well, and realized that I was a serious artist, he unbuttoned completely. He stopped bowing and scraping and fell to discussing important things that are his passion.”

“It is a bit unusual for a woman of the Domains to pursue anything other than childrearing, unless she chooses to become a
leronis
. Or a Renunciate,” he added, still puzzled by the change in his wife. “I have never heard of a Darkovan woman who pursues art seriously. Our more artistic women satisfy themselves with vast amounts of unnecessary needlework. Lady Marilla Aillard has a pottery works in the Ardais Domain, but I do not think she throws bowls or glazes them personally. She might. You can ask her when she arrives.”

“She is coming for the funeral, I assume.”

“That is part of it. She holds the Aillard seat on the Comyn Council, which will meet in order to confirm Mikhail Hastur’s succession to Regis. Her son, Dyan Ardais, will come as well.”

“
Domna
Marilla Aillard and
Dom
Dyan Ardais? Different last names? It is a good thing I have had so much practice keeping such things straight. Gisela told me your father and brother are expected, too—though from what she said I am not really looking forward to meeting your parent—or is it parents? No one has mentioned his wife yet.”

“There isn’t one, as far as I know, although he probably has a
barragana
or two up in Aldaran Castle. Gisela’s mother died a long time ago.”

“I see.” She frowned at the word for concubine, then shrugged. “The children seem to be adjusting well. Rory and Amaury are thick as thieves already, and I think Terése and Yllana will amuse one another.”

“They will probably get into mischief.” He had taken a liking to Roderick Alton-Hastur after dinner the previous evening, and thought that it would be good for his stepson to have someone his own age to play with. But he was fairly certain that Rory was a little too frisky for his own good, and could only hope that he would not lead Amaury into anything too dangerous.

“Will that be good or bad?”

“Neither. We Darkovans indulge our children a good deal, because we have always had a high infant mortality rate. A certain amount of wickedness is expected of the boys, though not of the girls, I confess.”

“I had noticed that the attitude toward women here was a wee bit backward,” she answered very dryly.

“What do you mean, precisely.”

“Gisela gave me a thumbnail sketch of the proscribed roles of Darkovan wives and daughters during the ride. It is so different from Renney, which is my only real experience with a Protected Planet.”

“I hadn’t considered the matter, but since Renney is, for all practical purposes, a matriarchy, I can see that you would find it strange. We guard our women closely, and confine them in odd ways. There are a good many historical reasons for that, which we seem not to have overcome. I hope you do not find it too oppressive, darling Kate.”

She sat down on the bed beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Only if I am forced to spend all my time in this . . . outrageous building! It seems very odd not to be able to come and go as I please, to have all these servants and guards everywhere. I confess to feeling a bit stifled. And watched.” Her voice dropped sharply and she shifted uncomfortably.

“What?”

“You grew up with this, but frankly the idea of being with a bunch of telepaths still gives me the cold grues. You would think, after living for years with invisible eyes observing my every move that I would not be bothered, but I am. The Federation was not interested in my thoughts, just in my actions. I keep thinking that someone is spying on me, trying to discover my secrets. I know I am being paranoid, Herm.”
I was almost easy around Gisela, as I always have been with you, but now. . . .

“That is not what is really bothering you, Katherine.”

“No, it isn’t.” She stiffened slightly, as if bracing herself. “For the first time in my life, I feel . . . crippled. Unequal. I wish you had told me, before we came, about
laran
and all the Gifts and . . . everything. And about the Towers.” She jerked her head away from his shoulder abruptly as if she no longer wanted to be touched by him. Gisela had told her something about these peculiar places, and she wasn’t really comfortable with the idea yet.

“It was not something I was free to explain, even when we went to Renney. I was always worried that I could have been overheard by a spying device of the Federation. And it is not as if I didn’t want to tell you the truth, Kate, but only that I could never find the words. Besides, you will have lots of time to learn about the Towers, and soon.”

“Why?”

He sensed a trace of anger and hostility now. “Terése will have to be tested for
laran
, and we will go to Arilinn Tower, which is east of here, for that. I’ve never been there myself, so I am looking forward to it.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he had misjudged the situation.

“Damn you, Hermes! Were you going to tell me, or just wake me up one morning and announce we were going to this place? This is my daughter we are talking about. What’s the matter with you?”

“Why are you so angry?”

“Because you are behaving in a high-handed way that makes me . . . want to bite you! Why does Terése need to go to this Arilinn?”
This is intolerable. Just when I get my feet under me, I get knocked down again!

“I told you, Kate! She almost certainly has
laran
, and it is important that she be tested to determine the nature of her gifts.”

Katherine sat in stunned silence for a moment. “You mean my little girl . . . ?”
He tried to tell me the other day, but I would not listen!

“
Our
little girl, Katherine. She is my daughter, too, and has inherited as much from me as from you.”

“I can’t stand this!”

“Be reasonable, Kate. Believe me, the last thing you want is a wild telepath in the family. An untrained telepath is a danger to herself and everyone around her. If she has
laran
, she must learn how to use it properly.”

“A wild . . . it sounds so odd.” And abruptly she began to weep.
My little girl, my baby! This is a terrible world, and I am so afraid. What will they do to her—how do they test! I have to stop it! Terése has never been away from me, and she will be frightened. And what will she be like, if she learns how to read minds? If only I could talk to Nana right now. I don’t even know this man, and I will never understand this world.

In despair, she covered her face with her hands and made a wailing sound that Herm had never heard from her before, so terrible that it wrenched his heart. He wanted to comfort Katherine, but he knew that no mere words would help. Perhaps he should not have brought her to Darkover. He had not thought through the problem of being head blind, how frightening it must be for her, no matter how many reassurances she received. And Amaury, too. How was the boy going to feel if his sister turned out to be a telepath? Herm had not explained things to his stepson yet, and he did not look forward to doing so. With a sinking heart he realized that the budding friendship between Amaury and young Rory might lead to some upsetting revelations. And he was so tired!

Internally, Herm shrank away from all the possible outcomes that rose in his mind. He had always loathed the messiness of other people’s emotions, and was deeply grateful he did not have the Ridenow Gift of empathy. He knew that he had left Aldaran Castle and Darkover as much to escape the swirls of drama that seemed to fall like the snows, no matter what the season. Now, with a wrenching start, he understood that what had drawn him to his Kate was her reserve and self-containment. She made no great demands on his feelings, and had rarely displayed her own fiery temper. It had been a relief to find a person who was so absorbed in their own work, as she was in her painting, that she did not bother him with petty arguments.

Somehow, in the back of his mind, Herm had expected Katherine to . . . what? To stop being herself, intelligent and independent, and become obedient and passive? To let him rule the roost? Why? She never had before, not really. She wasn’t going to turn into a nice Darkovan wife, and he was a fool for imagining that she would. It was going to be unpleasant, and he knew it, and knew, too, that he was not going to be able to get out of it. He wished himself far away, in some distant place where there were no problems to disentangle.

Then Herm spent a futile moment berating himself for being selfish and a stupid bastard. Why had he never told Katherine before? Was it really because he was afraid of listening Terranan ears, or something more? He had a rare moment of introspection, and decided he had been afraid of Katherine’s reaction, that he had suspected that she would feel just exactly as she did right now, angry and frightened. He had never been willing to risk losing her, and had hoped that the situation would never arise.

What an idiot he had been. How would he have tried to lie his way out of Terése’s threshold sickness when it began? If he had remained away from Darkover, his precious daughter might have died!

Hermes realized he had hurt his wife deeply, with his own avoidance and denial. He would have had to bring his daughter back to Darkover in a couple of years, for her own safety, but he had refused to think about it until a crisis forced him to. And he had blundered badly.

He was shaken again, as the enormity of his folly finally blossomed in his mind. It gave the lie to the great confidence Herm had always had in himself, in his inate cunning and cleverness. These seemed worthless now, the wrong tools for the task. “As well carve a roast with a spoon,” as they said in the Hellers. This was not dissembling before the interested eyes of some political foe, but a different sort of problem, a human one, full of conflicting feelings. And, he admitted to himself with great reluctance, he was not really very good with strong feelings. It put him too much in mind of the endless tensions of Aldaran Castle in his childhood, where loud voices and passions were the order of the day. He had left Darkover as much to escape those as to serve the planet of his birth.

Katherine mopped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffed noisily. Herm reached into his pouch and took out a square of linen and offered it to her. This ordinary object—an “obsolete” cloth handkerchief brought with it a sense of powerful distinction, for there were no paper tissues available on Darkover, unless there was a supply at HQ. Nothing on Darkover was easily disposable, not nose wipes or people. And that was a profound difference. To the Terran mind, almost everything was replaceable except power. By contrast, Darkovans were pack rats, saving everything and using it until it just wore out.