"According to the Rhomandi," another stranger an- swered, "they do not expect Anheliaa to awaken."

The Rhomandi? Anheliaa dying? There was a time that news would have brought great joy to . . . the person Thy- erri had been.

"And if she does?" the first man, Tobinsi, asked. "Or if the Shatumin bitch proves capable?"

"Then Persitum is prepared to collapse the entire node and reset all the rings but Rhomatum's." That was the Per- situmin representative, Marighi. He was a long, thin man with graying blond hair, and an air of perpetual perplexity.

He seemed very tired. "They must do something. Anheliaa is draining all of Maurislan!"

"She's draining every node in the web. They say Mauri- tum will suffer more than Rhomatum, if Persitum withdraws."

"Who can know? It's never happened. No satellite has ever willfully cut itself off from a mother node. Certainly it can't be worse than what's happening."

The words were flying around his head, statements with- out origin. Thyerri made another slow round of the glasses, delaying his departure.

"Would that we had the option," dunSharn growled.

"Would that we had any true option."

"Perhaps we have," Marighi said.

"You mean the Mauritumin?" dunSharn asked.

Marighi nodded, but Tobinsi glared at Thyerri, and hissed. "Idiots!" And to Thyerri: "Get out. Now."

9 ~ ~.

"Persitum has recalled its representatives."

Mikhyel broke the news in the sitting room after dinner, considering it only polite to allow time for good food to settle.

"They're going to cut us off," Deymorin said.

"Obviously," Mikhyel responded, and sipped his wine.

"Garetti must be ecstatic," Kiyrstin said. "He's been try- ing to get Persitum to cut off Rhomatum for years."

"Well, one can't blame him now," Mikhyel said. "Anhel- iaa has been draining the entire web ever since Boreton.

It's unconscionable, what she's doing."

Word had come from the other nodes, from the ring- masters with whom Mikhyel hoped to meet, that Anheliaa was indeed drawing hard on their resources. They were, to a Tower, fighting that leeching, and to a Tower, refused to relax that battle until they had far more confidence in the outcome of such a gesture.

"I'd stop her, if I could," said Lidye, from the settee where she'd settled with Nikki. "It's just . . . she's so power- ful, and I fear ..." Her voice trembled, and Nikki took her hand, speaking soothing nonsense.

The fact that Lidye and Nikki had reconciled their differ- ences was impossible to ignore. Beyond the fact that Nikki had taken to sleeping in his wife's bed and disturbing all their sleep with his youthful rutting, Nikki being Nikki and in love with the notion of being in love, he radiated desire and obsessive concern throughout the day as well.

Watching the tender little performance, Mikhyel hoped her actions were less calculated than they appeared to Nikki's rather more cynical brother. Having seen Mirym brave Anheliaa's wrath quite successfully, he had his own opinions on why Lidye chose to put off assuming control of the rings.

Still, considering the obscenity lying moribund in the Tower, he supposed he should sympathize with Lidye's reti- cence to challenge Anheliaa. There was no knowing how channeling the ley-energy would affect Lidye until she began work, was how Anheliaa had explained the dangers at the pre-engagement interviews; and those physical pa- rameters could change over time or overnight or not at all.

Nor did they know how the Tower work might affect the unborn child Lidye carried. No Rhomatumin master had ever tried. Anheliaa had counted on the child being born before Lidye would be required to control the rings.

Truth to tell, Mikhyel suspected that Anheliaa had planned to live long enough to train the child, and to hand the rings directly down to a Rhomandi after all.

On the other hand, considering that Lidye had married Nikki knowing that Tower work was inherently dangerous, now was hardly the time for second thoughts, excuses . . .

or misplaced loyalties.

"Lidye," he said, and she looked up expectantly. "Persi- tum's pending defection has raised new doubts, and revived old factions within the Syndicate." He sent a mental warn- ing to Nikki to hold quiet, sensed instant resistance, and beat it fiercely down. "The old distrust is welling up be- tween the Northern and Southern Crescents. Your presence here tonight is fueling that suspicion. I will ask this only once, and I trust you realize the ramifications to yourself should I discover at some future date that you tied to me today."

Her brow tightened, but otherwise, her calm face didn't change.

"Are you Rhomandi or are you Fericci?"

It was a direct challenge of her loyalties. Nikki jerked, full of protest, and Mikhyel sent another message, wanting no extraneous commotion. He could almost feel Nikki writhing beneath his hand, but the motion was all invisible, a mental grip, forcing his brother to stay quiet.

Lidye rose to her feet and walked slowly about the room, taking time to consider the question, wisely avoiding the immediate, self-protective response that would simply have confirmed his suspicions. She stopped, looking at Nikki, then said slowly, carefully, "There is no way to answer that question to your absolute satisfaction, Mikhyel dunMheric, as you know full well." That steady blue gaze met his with- out flinching. "Howeverand you can believe this or not, as you willI'm not the same person I was when I arrived here last fall. You cannot connect with the rings and not become committed in a way beyond politics. My life be- longs to the web, now, not to any one node. Not to any one Family. My parents assumed otherwise. My parents prepared me with certain objectives should I attain the po- sition I shall soon hold, but my parents are destined to disappointment. I listened to your advice, and your broth- ers' on choosing my own guard. I also listened to my fa- ther's. But ultimately, I followed the advice of the rings. I have sent my father and his men back to Shatum. He was not pleased with that decision, but I was. I found him . . .

uncomfortable to have near me. I am of this node now, Mikhyel. Irrevocably. I . . . can't explain otherwise. I can only act as seems best for the web in general and this node in particular."

Mikhyel nodded, and released his hold on Nikki, who

glowered in angry silence.

I'm sorry, Nikki.} You had no right!} I had everv right. Until vou learn to control1

{i iiau every ugiii. uiilii yuu icaiii iu VUULIUI(

"Nikki?" Lidye's voice interrupted them. "Nikki, are you all right?"

"Fine," Nikki said abruptly, and his sudden silence rang in Mikhyel's head like a blow. "I apologize for my brother's lack of respect."

"Your desire to protect my feelings does you credit," she said soothingly, "but his concerns were well taken. Surely you must see that as well? This is not the time for mis- placed confidence." She looked up to meet Mikhyel's eyes.

"I only hope I have allayed some of his fears."

"What I think," Mikhyel said, without inflection, "is that you had best hold with that stance, if you want to remain Ringmaster of the Rhomatum Web. What we have accom- plished so far is acceptance of the situation and the basic goals we set forth for dealing with that situation. However, the Syndicate considers the danger to the web to far out- weigh the immediate danger from Mauritum, and seeks re- assurances I can't give them. They believe that the only real defense against Mauritum is a solid web with an unsha- kably loyal and capable ringmaster. I tend to agree with them."

"I can't do anything, as long as Anheliaa lives."

"No? And if the satellite ringmasters refuse to cooperate unless you prove dominance? What then? Do we wait while Anheliaa destroys the web?"

"We don't know that's happening."

"Don't we?"

"I can't do anything. The child"

"You would be the Ringmaster of Rhomatum, Lidye romNikaenor. Will you master the rings, or won't you?"

Again, he was forced to divide his attention, to hold Nikki quiet while he sought the truth behind Nikki's wife's posturing.

"The risk is too great!" Lidye cried, and her eyes flashed with growing anger.

"Then what do you suggest, you who would be Rhoma- tum Node's master?"

She drew a deep breath, visibly controlling herself, then answered coldly, "I've already answered that."

"Wait."

She nodded.

"Unacceptable."

"Damn you, Mikhyel dunMheric! Then find another!"

"Mirym?"

Astonishment filled the pale Shatumin features. "Surely you're joking."

So she didn't know about Mirym . . . Unless, of course, the look was contrived.

"What about Nethaalye? As I understood the situation, she had at least some capacity to hold the rings, though she wasn't as skilled as yourself. Is that accurate?"

Lidye shrugged, a single-shoulder, petulant gesture. "She might have."

"In any case, I suggest we ask her to return as soon as possible. Your Southern association is and has been a real point of contention in any case. She's not pregnant. I know she has courage, and I know her politics favor the web as a whole."

"And if she hasn't the ability? If Anheliaa strikes at her the way Anheliaa strikes at me?"

"We won't know until she tries, will we?"

"You are as cruel as your aunt, Mikhyel dunMheric,"

Lidye hissed.

"Tell her what you will. Frighten her off from trying if you would like. I won't interfere. My desire is not to re- place you, Lidye. My desire is to save the web. I would think you would welcome relief in the Tower, and being from the North, her presence here might reassure the Northern Crescent that we're not favoring one side over another."

"If she'll come back." Lidye cast him a clearly challeng- ing sideways glance from half-lidded eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"She didn't leave on a whim, Mikhyel dunMheric. She left because she was convinced you had deserted her. Re- jected her as Anheliaa had rejected her."

"I can't blame her for that. But if I explain . . ."

Lidhye shrugged. "It might be enough."

"But you don't believe so."

"I told you. She was quite upset. I tried to talk sense with her, but when her father discovered you'd made that servant girl pregnant"

"I . . . what? What servant girl?"

"Anheliaa's wench. Mirym. She had dizzy spells, fainted in the Tower. Anheliaa's physician said it was too soon to make the determination, but she seemed quite certain.

Refused to rest, as the physician recommended, saying her response was quite natural."

Nikki was staring at him, his underneath presence, for once, icy quiet. Painfully cold, and Mikhyel released all hold on him.

Deymorin was radiating amusement and gentle mockery.

"Should have been more careful, fry."

"You're a fine one to talk, Rags," Kiyrstin said.

"But I didn't . . ." Mikhyel's protest faded into uncer- tainty. There'd been only that once, and Nethaalye had been gone within days. . . .

"Damn you, Mikhyel," Nikki hissed, "don't lie. I saw you with her."

"What do you mean. Shepherdess?" Deymorin was ask- ing Kiyrstin, causing an echo in Mikhyel's head as well as his ears.

"Once, Nikki. There was just that one time"

"I mean," Kiyrstin hissed in an undertone Mikhyel heard only through Deymorin's ears. "I'm sprouting, you're spin- ning a new strand on the family web, your gun was loaded"

"Liar!"

"Nikki, I'm not denying it happened, though I don't know what you were doing in my room that night, but it was just the one timeyour wedding night, and she couldn't have known that soon"

"Once is all it takes, fry. Kiyrstin, do you mean"

"Yes, for Maurii's own sweet sake. I'm in foal . . .

breeding . . . pregnant."

Deymorin caught Kiyrstin up in his arms and swung her about the room. His mind, intoxicated with Kiyrstin's reve- lation, reflected within Mikhyel's. Deymorin was oblivious to all else in the room. Oblivious to talk of other women and other children, his vision and thoughts all on Kiyrstin.

And Mikhyel grew ill with the swirling images overlaying Nikki's angry face, and with the mixture of Deymorin's joy and Nikki's outrageoutrage that surged now past that barrier of mental ice, though why Nikki would care about Mirym, with Lidye warm and close and willing, remained a mystery to Mikhyel.