Traitor's Sun (64 page)

Katherine pounded her between the shoulders until the fit passed, and the color began to return to Giz’s cheeks. “Another glass?” A nod answered her. This time Gisela only sipped from it, then leaned back into the comforting chair and gave a long sigh.

“I haven’t seen him like this in years,” she began. “Whatever happened at the Council meeting yesterday put him in a fury, and somehow it was all my fault.”

Katherine felt confused. “But you weren’t even there—we were in my studio! They were all at that meeting, weren’t they, your father and everyone, and they never came back for dinner.”

Gisela gave a bitter laugh. “I hadn’t told him that Mikhail and Rafael were reconciled, mostly because it wasn’t any of his business. So he went to the Crystal Chamber all ready to propose that since Mikhail was not acceptable to all of the Council, then my husband should be instead. As near as I can tell, he never even got to suggest it before some sort of hell broke loose. I don’t know exactly what happened, but the trap matrices in the chamber were smashed to bits, and there was a lot of shouting and table pounding. I am so glad I was with you!”

“I am, too.” Kate had no idea what a trap matrix was, but it sounded frightening. There were so many things she did not know, and more she could not understand. “Rafael didn’t tell you . . .”

“I haven’t seen him, Kate. All I know is that everyone on the Council was in the Crystal Chamber until very late, and that after that, Rafael went off on some errand for Mikhail. He sent me a note.” The wine seemed to have invigorated her a little, and some color was returning to her unnaturally pale skin.

“When did you see your father, then?”

“About two hours ago—he came slamming into the suite, dragged me up out of bed, and started screaming at me. That woke the children, and Gabriel tried to make him let me go, and got tossed on the floor. It was horrible, with the children screaming and my father shaking me by the shoulders and . . .” She stopped, drew a shuddering breath, and tried to calm herself. “I had taken a draught before bed, and I was so tired. He never
told
me that I was supposed to keep Rafael and Mikhail at odds, Kate! I don’t know if I would have if I could. But, thinking it all over, I suppose that the reason he had me trying to get Regis to change his heir designate, all those years back, was just to make trouble between them. I feel like such a fool!” Gisela broke into fresh tears.

“Why? The only fool in this seems to be
Dom
Damon. He used you, Giz, and you fell into his plans without realizing clearly what it might mean. But, if there is any blame, I think
Dom
Damon deserves the larger portion.” Kate could almost feel the waves of near-hysteria that were flowing from Gisela, and she was very glad that Marguerida had suggested the idea of empathy to her, or otherwise she might have felt she was going mad herself. And she wanted nothing but to make it cease—immediately. It was nearly a physical sensation—like being pricked by invisible knifepoints.

She had taken an almost immediate dislike to her father-in-law when she had met him at last the night after Herm left, and had come to the conclusion that one reason her husband had left was to avoid encountering the man. Now she was ready to hate him without reservation for upsetting Gisela and hurting her.

The sobs subsided slowly. Gisela mopped her wet face with a rather soiled hankerchief, then gulped down the rest of her glass of wine. “There is that, but it doesn’t make me feel very much less dreadful and guilty. When I saw Mik and Rafael embrace three days ago, I was so happy for both of them. And when Rafael went to the Council meeting, after years of being excluded because of me, I was glad. Then my damn father had to try to ruin everything, and when he failed, he . . . punched me in the face.” She lifted her empty hand and gingerly touched the bruise. “He called me terrible things, and I just wanted to kill him, Kate!”

“I’m so sorry,
breda.
” The sense of being assaulted was fading now, and Kate was less uncomfortable.

“I should have. Mikhail would probably have given me a prize if I had.”

“Maybe.” She was glad Gisela had not murdered her father, even if he deserved it. She sat down in the chair across from the other woman, pushed her unbound hair off her shoulders, and shook her head in wonder. “Are things always this . . . dramatic?”

“Oh, no,” Gisela said solemnly. “Sometimes nothing happens for years and years.”

“Then I suppose they were saving it up for my arrival,” Kate answered dryly. She hated raised voices and arguments but realized that the entire castle was full of people in the midst of a serious dispute. For a moment, Katherine wished she were back in the small apartment she and Herm had occupied, on an overcrowded world where everyone was very careful to be polite, lest the peace officers cite them with a civil violation and fine them. Or back on Renney, with the smell of the sea. The feeling passed, leaving her a little forlorn.

That was too much, and Giz gave a sputtering chuckle. Rosalys returned with a tray a minute later. There was a pot of tea and baked cakes on a plate. The scent of mint rose and floated through the air of the sitting room, mingling pleasantly with the smell of balsam from the fireplace. In the few days since her arrival, she had started to become accustomed to the odors of old stone and burning wood, and even to enjoy them. After years in a centrally heated building, the simple pleasure of the hearth, different from that of her homeworld but reminiscent as well, was a source of comfort.

Katherine rose and was beginning to fill mugs with tea when there was another knock on the door. She looked up, startled and with the beginning of a sense of ill-usage. People should not be calling so early, and while she was still in her nightdress! The maidservant darted over and opened it and Marguerida came in. A moment later Amaury wandered out from the other part of the suite, knuckling his eyes sleepily.

“What’s that sound?” the boy asked his mother, then noticed that there were others present. He pulled his robe closer around his slender body and blushed a little. “It gives me shivers.”

“Pipes, Amaury. We call them seapipes on Renney, but I don’t know the name here.”

“It sounds like someone hurting a cat,” the boy announced, and then reddened as the three women laughed at his remark. “Well, it does,” he added defensively.

“We call them bagpipes, Amaury, and you are not the first to have made that comparison,” Marguerida told him wearily. She looked tired and faded, dressed in a robe of the same dark hue as the garments that Gisela had brought with her earlier. It was the color of twilight, a very dark blue with a purplish undertone, and the first clothing that Katherine had seen that was not adorned with embroidery. She glanced from Gisela to Kate, and back again, and if she was surprised to find them together, she seemed too exhausted to remark on it.

Remembering that Gisela had said that the meeting had gone on into the middle of the night, Kate guessed that Marguerida had not had much sleep. That, at least, was something she could deal with. “Here, sit down this instant, Marguerida. You look ready to drop in your tracks. Rosalys has just brought tea, and I insist you drink some. Have you eaten anything?” Katherine half shoved the other woman into the chair beside Gisela, and realized she had acted as she did as much for her own comfort as for Marguerida’s. Where, on their previous encounters, she had sensed little or nothing, she now could feel distress of some sort. She went toward the table and the serving tray, and discovered that Amaury had seated himself and was already munching on a cake.

“I . . . don’t remember,” Marguerida said softly. She put her elbows on the arms of the chair and her capable hands hung listlessly from the wrists. “I’ve been up most of the night,” she added, as if this explained everything. “And I need to tell you something that is likely going to upset you. . . .” She turned her head and studied Gisela briefly, and her weary eyes widened as she took in the bruise on Giz’s cheek.

Marguerida half-rose, leaning on the arm of the chair, and extended her hand towards the other woman’s face.
“Who did this to you?”
Her voice, faint a moment before, was furious. She was shaking with rage. She brushed the bruise with the fingers of her right hand and flinched.

Katherine moved swiftly, sensing that Marguerida’s iron control had at last reached its limits. She was glad, at that moment, that all she possessed was empathy, because she was sure that if she could have read Marguerida’s mind at that instant, she would have hated what she would hear. Instead, she forced the woman to sit down again. Then, pinning her down by putting her hands on the arms of the chair, she leaned forward, so their faces were only a hands-pan apart, and said, “Do not move for at least the next five minutes.”

“You are very masterful, Kate,” Marguerida murmured, submitting, and leaning her head against the back of the chair. She let her eyes close, breathing slowly and deeply, her hands resting in her lap. Then, after a couple of minutes, she asked, “Who hit you, Giz?”

“My father.”

“Will you mind very much if I kill him?”

Gisela looked shocked, then amused, and Amaury suddenly got up and left the room abruptly, clearly uncomfortable. “No, but I would prefer to do it myself, actually.”

“Yes, I should not be greedy, and try to have all the treats for myself. Do you think you could spare me a leg or an arm—just to properly vent my outrage? No, I suppose not. There was mention of tea, I believe.” Her control had returned, and her voice was nearly emotionless. She might have been discussing the weather, not homicide, and Katherine was glad that her son had left the room before he heard the last remark. She didn’t think either of the women were serious, but she was not absolutely sure.

Gisela smiled a little and nodded. “Perhaps we could tie him, hand and foot, to several horses, then drive them apart.”

“That would be extremely satisfactory,” Marguerida replied. “I do enjoy designing painful demises for certain people. Only those who deserve such treatment, of course, because I am not usually murderous this early in the day.”

“No, only when bandits attack you in the middle of the night,” Giz returned, and both women laughed pleasantly.

Kate listened to the conversation with some consternation, and wondered what they were speaking about. It sounded as if they were talking about an actual event—had Marguerida killed a bandit? As much as she wanted to demand an explanation, she held herself back. Instead, she laced the mugs of tea with a heavy-scented honey from a small pot that sat on the tray. Silence, except for the moan of the pipes, filled the suite. She noticed then that the steady beat of drums had been added, so deep that Kate had barely registered them at first. The tune had changed, too, to yet another slow, sad song.

The women drank their tea and ate still warm cakes, and except for Marguerida’s mourning clothes, it might have been just an ordinary day. The maid had vanished into the children’s part of the suite, and they were alone with their thoughts.

Finally, Marguerida roused herself. “Kate, before the funeral, we are going to send all the youngsters away to Arilinn, including your own. They will be safer there than here, if our guesses are right.”

She didn’t want to know what sort of guesses Marguerida was talking about, but she must find out what was going on. This sudden announcement seemed to come out of the blue, and she felt at a loss about how to react to it. Was she supposed to go with the children to this Arilinn place? Kate stood, torn between her need to remain with her children, and her desire to see Herm! Well, she could hardly let Amaury and Terése go off to this unknown place without her, could she? “Why won’t they be safe here?” she finally managed to ask, then added, “They have never been away from me, in their lives.”

“I did not realize that,” Marguerida responded slowly. “I assure you, they will be completely safe at Arilinn.” She shifted in the chair, and sipped a little tea. “We are concerned that while we are on the way to the
rhu fead,
the Federation may try to occupy the castle. We have prepared for this possibility, and I think that if Lyle Belfontaine decides to attempt it, he will be extremely surprised at his reception. But we do not want to risk the children.” She seemed too tired to continue.

“I see.” Kate wondered for a moment, finding the idea too overwhelming to absorb easily. “I believe you, but . . .”

Gisela interrupted. “But you want to see Hermes, so you can box his ears into the next tenday. I don’t think my brother is nearly good enough for you, Kate! But you can’t be in two places at one time.” She thought for a moment. “I’ll go with them, since my own youngsters must go to Arilinn as well. I’ll manage somehow—even if I include Roderick, Alanna, and Yllana.”

Marguerida gave Gisela a searching look. “That is very kind of you.” Then, as if unable to restrain herself, she added, “And quite uncharacteristic.”

Gisela shrugged. “I am, as you probably noticed last evening, Kate, not a completely wonderful mother. Don’t look so shocked. I know it’s true. But, I can look after yours, mine, and Marguerida’s until we reach the Tower—I’m just lazy, not uncaring.”

“What has gotten into you, Giz?” Marguerida asked bluntly.

A sweet smile crossed the other woman’s face, and there was a twinkle in her puffy eyes. “Kate has made me see the error of my ways—haven’t you,
breda?
” Then she touched the bruise lightly. “I don’t want people to see me like this, and ask nosy questions, or think Rafael has finally done what everyone hoped he would do years ago. So if both of you will entrust me with your offspring, I shall be a good aunty, and see they wash their faces before bedtime.”

“Have you bewitched her?” Marguerida asked seriously, turning toward Kate.

“I don’t think so,” Katherine replied, still caught up in her own conflicted feelings. Was it safe to let Gisela take her children? After all, she barely knew the woman. And Herm did not completely trust her. Then she knew that the offer was genuine, that her sister-in-law understood how much she wanted to join Herm and was only being generous. “Yes, if you take the children, Giz, I will let them go. They like you, and they like your youngsters. Thank you—it is a kind thing to do.” Then she frowned.