I guess I am.

There was a silence from Lew Alton, as if he needed time to digest the information. That explains several things which have been troubling me for some months. Why haven't you come back to the Castle?

Well, I did not think anyone would take me seriously.

And?

And I know what Vancof looks like, and no one else does. Well, maybe Kendrick. He was standing guard with me when the wagon came through this morning. I want to stay here and keep an eye on things. Grandfather, they want to kill everyone, so they can grab Darkover! Vancof asked Granfell if he was going to land troops on the road or something. Could they do that?

In the past, they would not have dared. But now-I refuse to speculate.

Again there was a ruminative silence, and Domenic waited tensely. What would he do if Lew ordered him to return?

Well, Nico, it sounds as if you have gotten yourself into a very peculiar situation. And, even with the risk, I agree with you that you ought to remain where you are for the present. A night away from home won't kill you.

I hope not! I am scared, Grandfather, but not too much. I mean, the driver saw me, but I was just a young man an a Guard's uniform, and he was so busy being obnoxious that he probably won't remember me. And I won't go near. I can keep an eye on things from a distance. Or pretend I am interested in the girl I saw this morning-she is very pretty. I would not mind being interested in her! This admission surprised him and pleased him at the same time.

You are having an interesting time, aren't you?

Yes, Grandfather, I am.

Very well. Someone will join you out there before morning-you can't just go alone.

Who? You?

No, not me. Let me handle this, Domenic. And keep safe. I don't want to have to explain to your mother that I let her firstborn get himself . . .

I promise not to get killed!

Good.

Please don't let them make me come back!

No, not for the present. You are not in any danger that I can think of. And it is good for you to get some experience outside the Castle. I have never entirely approved of how embattled we have let ourselves become in recent years, as I have often told you and anyone else who would listen. The presence of a Terran spy among the Travelers just proves how right I was. What a perfect cover-why didn't I think of it sooner? And how many others have been wandering around Darkover for thirty years? Leave it to me, grandson. I am very proud of you, Nico.

Proud?

You have never shown a lot of initiative, which I believe is a valuable quality in a ruler. This shows you can handle yourself in a difficult situation.

I don't think Mother will agree with you. She will be furious.

Very likely, and ring a peal over my head. Be careful, and I will contact you later tonight.

10.

Lew snapped back into focus at the table in the larger dining room, glanced at his hand, and realized that he had paused with his soup spoon suspended in midair while he communicated with Domenic. The noise of people eating and talking around the long table seemed like a raucous clamor after the intensity of mind-to-mind contact, an assault on his ears and senses. The room was warm, but he was chilled by the sudden wave of fear he felt for his grandson. He forced himself to shake it away, trying to think clearly and calmly. What an unexpected and undesirable development.

He sorted through the information Domenic had just given him, discovering that he was not really surprised by any of it. They had managed to keep news of Regis' death from reaching Federation HQ for almost three days now, but it was inevitable that they would learn of it, and now they had. And the temptation to try to take advantage of the emotional turmoil and transition of leadership in Comyn Council would be difficult for Belfontaine to resist. Unless he decided not to go along with Granfell's idea. He knew there was an unspoken rivalry between the two men, even if they were not aware of it themselves. A smile played across his mouth-sometimes there were real benefits to telepathy, although he rarely thought of them.

As he lowered his spoon, he considered the two men. They were both suspicious and ambitious, but Granfell was headstrong and had an explosive temper. Belfontaine, by contrast, was controlled, using his intelligence and cunning to best advantage. But he was frustrated, and that element would almost certainly sway him in favor of Granfell's plan. Being posted to Darkover was a dead end in the Federation bureaucracy, and if the Federation was going to pull out, Belfontaine had to act fast or admit defeat to his superiors. Had he learned anything from his misadventure on Lein III? Lew doubted it. Men like Lyle Belfontaine rarely learned much from their mistakes. And now he would be desperate. Desperate men were always dangerous.

Lew looked up and down the long table, and found Gareth Hastur-Elhalyn staring at him; his bright blue eyes seemed to bore right into him. The boy, Dani Hastur's son, looked away hastily, but not before Lew caught an expression of avidity on his face. It reminded Lew of old Dyan Ardais, and he felt a sudden sense of unease. Gareth seemed like a good lad, but Lew did not know him very well. He must have the wind up more than he thought, if he was being suspicious of a child of fourteen. And why was Gisela watching him? The last thing he needed was more of her mischief.

But she was smiling, and Lew could not remember the last time he had found Giz smiling at anything. There was nothing in her look that was alarming, and then he realized she was not actually looking at him, but at his dinner companion, Katherine Aldaran. Wonder of wonders, there was an expression of fondness on Gisela's face as she looked at her sister-in-law.

Kate was just finishing her soup, and she raised her eyes from her bowl, caught Gisela's look, and returned the smile. The tension in her shoulders slackened as her eyes met the other woman's. He realized that his abrupt silence had perturbed Katherine, that she must have understood that he was using his laran, and had probably assumed it had something to do with her. Still, she was containing her fears wonderfully, and he was impressed again. What had he been saying to her? He could not remember . . .

Really, he was getting too old to maintain a normal conversation while he communicated telepathically. He felt a strange satisfaction in this realization-he was so very fortunate to be as old as he was! He had managed to outlive many of his foes, and had acquired a bit of real wisdom along the way. The biting grief was that he had lost so many precious friends at the same time.

Lew dipped his spoon and took another mouthful of soup. It was tepid and unappetizing now, and he pushed the bowl away. He considered Belfontaine and Granfell again, weighing what he knew of the two men from his visits to HQ. Their surface thoughts were similar, full of ambition and a longing for power. Lew had never really understood minds like theirs, no matter how many people he encountered who thought this way. He wondered if Lyle Belfontaine had the least idea of how eager his subordinate was to get ahead. Could he use this to Darkover's advantage?

Javanne Hastur was fixing him with a basilisk glare from the other side of the table, her rather protuberant eyes bulging with suspicion. Katherine shifted uncomfortably in her chair, thinking the look was aimed at her, and he heard the creak of the wood beneath her slender body. He returned Javanne's gaze with a bland smile, knowing this would annoy her enormously. It was a shame they had so many old scores to settle. Javanne was really an intelligent woman whose pettiness and wrong-thinking was born of her frustration and feelings of powerlessness.

Lew turned his eyes toward Katherine, and thought how very nice she looked in the white wool gown with black embroidery that he had given his daughter years before. The colors suited her perfectly, and the dress outlined the rise of her breasts in a modest way that was all the more provoking for being so subtle. He liked her, and thought that Herm was lucky to have found such a wife. Then Mikhail, at the head of the table, quirked an eyebrow at him, and the enormity of his easy promise to Nico swept through him. He should have told the lad to come back! How was he going to tell Mik, let alone Marguerida?

"Forgive me, Domna Katherine. I have no idea what we were talking about-something came into my mind and I completely lost my train of thought."

"What are you up to now?" Javanne asked suspiciously.

Lew did not answer immediately, but instead studied the woman he had known for over six decades. Time had been kind to her, and although her red hair was now almost as white as Regis' had been, her skin was still smooth and soft, and she did not look her age. He wondered if her combative disposition kept her youthful-certainly her personality had not mellowed with years, and he could almost forgive his eldest grandson for running off in order to avoid her. She had always been a headstrong and difficult person-a bully-even as a girl, but he had never thought her wicked or evil. Like himself, she was just quite pig-headed in favor of her own treasured opinions.

"Mother, do stop plaguing Lew, as if he been created purely to annoy you."

For a moment it appeared that Javanne was going to lose her temper at her youngest and least loved son. Instead, she held herself in check, as if the presence of Katherine Aldaran made her hesitate. Lew let himself marvel at his daughter's cunning in the seating arrangements. She had put Gabriel Lanart-Alton at her right, at the other end of the table, and Javanne at Mikhail's, separating the couple by the length of the board. Then she had put Lew across from Javanne, to draw her wrath away from Mikhail, and paired him with Katherine, to guarantee at least a semblance of courtesy. Under Dio's tutelage, during the last years of her life, Marguerida had turned from a rather awkward young academic into a capable and even masterful political hostess, able to be gracious under the most trying of circumstances. He looked down the board toward his daughter, and, aware of his regard, she gazed at him, a bit puzzled. He let his deep love for his only child hold him for a moment, then turned back to wait for Javanne's response.

"I do not imagine that Lew was brought to life just to irritate me, although it often feels as if he were." This admission had a ring of sincerity. "But he spent too many years away from Darkover for me to trust him completely. I believe he is too much a friend of the Federation for anyone's good." This had been her complaint for years, and it did not bother him in the least. More, Javanne was genuinely distraught over her brother's sudden death, and by the fact that she had not been summoned until he was gone. That Lady Linnea had been adamant on that matter she did not know, and he hoped she never would. Undoubtedly she thought it was Lew's fault, and that was for the best. What she really wanted was a good argument, the better to vent her churning emotions.

"Tell me, Javanne, if you had a choice, would you prefer a foe you could see, or one that was invisible?"

She blinked her large eyes once, then frowned at Lew. "One I could see, obviously. What sort of question is that?" The color rose in her cheeks, as if she suspected he was trying to trick her somehow.

"Very wise. And while the Federation maintains a presence on Darkover, we can keep an eye on them. But I fear you are about to realize your oft spoken wish to have them gone. At present, it is their intention to withdraw in a month, by their reckoning."

Her eyes narrowed. "And when were you going to share this wonderful news?" She did not sound very pleased, but instead seemed even more wary.

"At the Council meeting, Mother, when everyone was present, and could hear it at one time, with all the details that we know thus far," Mikhail explained patiently.

"Very proper," she admitted grudgingly. "I suppose you are disappointed by this development," she shot at Lew, still seeking something to dispute.

"Not in the least. The Station Chief has been a headache since he arrived, and the Planetary Administrator is nothing but a figurehead and can do nothing to control him. The political changes that have occurred in the Federation have not been to our benefit at all. And I will not miss Lyle Belfontaine for one moment. But I confess I am more than a little alarmed by the planned pullout." He could sense Katherine listening intently to what he was saying. A servant whisked away his empty bowl, and replaced it with rabbithorn forcemeat in a tender crust, a serving of carrots surrounding it. It looked very tempting, and he hoped that Javanne would not ruin his appetite with her persistent needling.

"Alarmed?" There was a note of caution in Javanne's voice, for however much they disagreed on almost everything concerning Darkover, she had a decent respect for his political acumen.

"Yes, Javanne, alarmed. Once they abandon the spaceport, we will not be able to watch what they are doing."

"But, why should that matter?"

"You are not a stupid woman, cousin. Think! Without a presence on the planet, and their own people to consider, there is nothing to restrain the Federation from attempting to conquer Darkover by force."

Her eyes bulged dangerously. "I had not . . . you are trying to frighten me, Lew Alton!"

"No, I am not!" He paused, filled with the longing to avoid a real confrontation, no matter how much Javanne wished for one. There would be enough shouting and disagreement when the Comyn Council met to satisfy everyone. He decided to take a different tack, to see if he could distract the woman. "Although if I were, it might pay you back for that ghost story you told me when I was twelve. I had nightmares for weeks afterward. Javanne is a superb storyteller," he informed Katherine, wishing to draw her into the conversation, "and can chill your blood with a minimum of words."

I can believe that. She remands me of my Aunt Tansy, always so sure she knew best how to run other people's lives. "We have a lot of such stories on Renney, but I never have acquired a taste for them. When I was five or six, we visited one of the ghost groves on the coast, and I was frightened out of my wits," Katherine replied. She gave him one of her remarkable smiles, as if she understood what he was doing, and Lew found himself thinking again that Herm was a damn lucky man.

"Fancy you remembering that," Javanne said, preening slightly, and looking rather fine, with a blush on her pale cheeks and a glitter of pleasure in her eyes.

"It was a formidible influence on my life," he answered dryly.

"Do you really believe the Federation would try to . . . invade Darkover, Lew?" She was sufficiently mollified by her own memory of the ghost story to be civil instead of spiteful.

"I don't know, but I confess to being worried."

Javanne stared at him, her face a mirror of conflicted emotions. "You are serious, aren't you?"

"Very."

Javanne lowered her head and took a bite of her rabbithorn. She chewed and swallowed, sipped some wine, and then looked at Lew again, her face thoughtful and less angry now. "I believe I have misjudged matters somewhat, in my efforts to keep the Terranan from . . . forgive me, cousin. I see I have not respected your efforts as I should have."

"There is nothing to forgive," he answered, startled by her uncharacteristic apology. He ignored the slight stab of conscience at the lie on his lips. There was a great deal to forgive, starting with Javanne's rejection of Domenic. But he thought it wiser to take advantage of her good humor of the moment than to settle any old scores. She would likely be conspiring with Francisco Ridenow before the dishes were cleared, for she simply could not resist the urge to meddle. "We see things very differently, but we both want what is best for Darkover."

Javanne nodded, then looked down the board, at Danilo Hastur, sitting next to his mother, toward the center of the gathering and well away from the most volatile of the guests. "Yes, we do," she finally answered, casting a sudden and unloving look on Mikhail before she turned her attention to her supper.

I need to see you after dinner, Mik-it is important.

Oh, no! More alarms and excursions? By Aldones, I wish that Regis had never made me his heir! Very well-in my study. At least it will get me away from Mother.

Two hours later, Lew Alton and Mikhail Hastur were sitting in the cozy and shabby study where so many important matters had been decided over the years. Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, Donal Alar, and Herm Aldaran were also in attendance. Lew looked at Mikhail and chewed his lower lip reflectively. His son-in-law looked exhausted, and he was not feeling too chipper himself. The dinner had seemed interminable despite the excellence of the food, and the pleasant company of Katherine Aldaran. He had been restless, aware that his grandson was alone in uncertain circumstances. It was unlikely that any harm would come to him with so many people around him. Still, he wondered if he should have just ordered the boy to return, instead of taking it upon himself to tell him to remain by the gate.

Javanne had recovered from her good mood, returning to her earlier one of confrontation, and it had taken all of his energy to keep from arguing with her. It had ruined his pleasure in the food, until he had thought to ask Katherine about the ghost groves she had mentioned. This had led the conversation onto less treacherous paths, and after a while, Javanne had given up the effort to berate him or Mikhail for things entirely beyond their control.

After dessert, Javanne had descended on Dani Hastur, all smiles and charm, and Lew had watched, caught between amusement and annoyance at the transparency of her actions. She had never resigned herself to Dani's choice of the Elhalyn Domain over the Hastur one, and it was now clear that she was going to try to get the man into her clutches. Dani had shrunk away from her attentions politely, and Gareth had said something that made her laugh and ruffle his fine, golden hair with a tender hand. Lew, observing the action as Javanne returned to harrassing her nephew, Dani, had found the boy looking back at him again, with an unreadable expression on his handsome features. Dani looked haggard, and ready to lose his usually calm temper, and finally Dom Gabriel had intervened and almost dragged his tiresome wife out of the dining room and back to their suite.

That inconsequential moment came back to Lew now. There was something going on, something he was missing, and he knew he could not bring his attention to the problem at hand until he solved the puzzle of Gareth Hastur-Elhalyn to his own satisfaction. The boy had never shown any interest in Javanne on his two previous visits to Comyn Castle. So why was he hanging close to her now-he had been by her side before they started eating, too!

Looking around at the comfortable furnishings of Regis' study, Lew remembered another gathering in that room, fifteen years before. He could recall the tension in the chamber, and the sound of Dani Hastur's voice, anxious and fearful, as he told his father he did not wish to be the heir of Hastur. And, with this, Lew suddenly knew the answer to the puzzle. His belly knotted. How could they have been so stupid not to have anticipated that perhaps Dani's son would feel cheated of an inheritance he would otherwise have had. The Elhalyn kingship was nothing compared to the real power which Regis had wielded, and it never would be.

If he was correct, and Lew now felt certain he was, then Gareth would regard Javanne as a natural ally. The boy had not been proclaimed as Elhalyn heir yet-he was almost a year away from that-and so he could nurture hopes for a reversal of the agreement that Regis and Mikhail had entered into! And Javanne would seize the opportunity in both her skillful hands. He held back a groan.

What a dreadful time Nico had picked to do something uncharacteristically mischievous and probably very foolish. Fortunate, in that he had discovered a plot-which still might come to nothing-but unfortunate in that his absence was certain to cause problems. He weighed the matter in his mind again, considering various possible scenarios. After several seconds, Lew decided he did not like the expression on Gareth's face one bit. Perhaps Domenic was safer away from Comyn Castle than in it. For a moment he was aghast by the deadly direction his thoughts had taken. Gareth was only a boy! He must be more tired than he thought, to entertain such ideas. On the other hand, accidents could occur, and it was better to be safe than sorry. If he was wrong, then he was wrong, but if his suspicious mind had turned up something worth worrying about, then he must proceed cautiously.

Ruthlessly, Lew played out the possibilities. If something happened to Domenic-Aldones forbid-Mikhail still had another son. But Roderick, fine lad that he was, did not have a head for governance, and he could not imagine anyone, even Javanne, suggesting that he should be named heir. Without Nico, the logical person to follow Mikhail would be Gareth Elhalyn, which would find favor with Javanne Hastur and several others on the Council. Keeping Nico out of reach suddenly seemed a very good idea! He was probably imagining plots where none existed, and he would keep his peace on the matter for the moment, but he would keep an eye on Gareth, just in case.

Having settled the matter in his own mind, Lew went over what Domenic had told him again, trying to make sure he had not forgotten anything important. The more he thought about it, the surer he became that Belfontaine would take action. Perhaps not precisely what Granfell suggested, but he could think of several things that Belfontaine might attempt, including trying to occupy Comyn Castle. Lew could not be certain what Belfontaine would do, but he was sure the little man would not be able to pass up an opportunity to further his own ambitions. It would be just too tempting. So they must proceed as if the plot that Dominic had overheard was real until they learned otherwise. Lew felt a flush of excitement-something that lessened the ever-present grief over Regis' death for a moment. Suddenly he was glad that his grandson had gotten into mischief. Even if nothing happened, it was excellent experience for the lad.

Lew had told Nico he would handle the matter, but now that the time had come he was not sure how to begin. He had taken so much on himself, and in the past this had not always been a wise choice.

He glanced around the room. Donal Alar stood behind Mikhail, his young face solemn. Danilo Syrtis-Ardais looked dreadful, his normally pale skin was gray and drawn, and only Herm Aldaran did not look ready to fall over. The grief over the death of Regis Hastur had taken a toll on all of them, but Regis' lifelong companion, Danilo, was probably the hardest hit.

"Why did you want to talk to me, Lew?" Mikhail sounded tired, his voice tense and a little hoarse. "I have had enough speaking to last me until Midwinter, and the end is not in sight."

"Yes, I know. It is almost as bad as when you came back from the past, isn't it."

"Worse. I was twenty-eight then, not forty-three, and I recovered more quickly."

"Well, son, I have some news."

"What is it? I saw that something made you stop in the middle of the soup. Couldn't it have waited for tomorrow?"

"Domenic has run away from home." He wanted to soften the blow, but there really was not any way to do it.

Mikhail gaped at Lew, and Danilo gave a little gasp. Donal did not react except to raise his eyebrows, and Herm looked puzzled.

"What the hell do you mean, Lew," Mikhail snapped, the color rising in his cheeks. "Nico is upstairs in bed with a cold or something."

"I'm afraid not. He only pretended to be sick, so he could sneak out of the castle and go to watch the Travelers perform outside the North Gate."

Mikhail was clearly outraged, at the ragged edge of control, and Lew now regretted his impulsiveness. "Domenic is off in the middle of the night with . . ."

"Hush, son! Just because Nico has never done anything on a lark before is no reason to assume he never would. He is safe enough. And he had the good sense to tell me what was going on, rather than you or his mother. He knew you would get angry." Lew stifled his own worries about his eldest grandson, alone in a field outside the city. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize him, since Domenic was only outside Comyn Castle during his Guard duties, but there was still a chance. But he was just one in a crowd, and if he knew Nico, the boy was probably being very careful not to draw attention to himself. It would have to do for the moment.

Mikhail quelled his outrage with a visible effort. Then the start of a smile began to play across his face. He shook his head and ran his ungloved fingers through his thick, curling, and still golden hair. "Snuck off, did he? He picked a dreadful time to get into mischief, but I never expected . . . Rory yes, but not Domenic. If he got in touch with you, why didn't you tell the little scamp to get himself back here?"

"Well, there's more to the story, and the rest is not quite so innocent, I'm afraid."

"You don't mean he's been kidnapped or something?" Danilo interjected.

"No, he is quite free, sitting by a fire pit and keeping warm, the last I knew. No, the bad news is that Nico stumbled into a conspiracy."

"What!" The partial calm that had quieted Mikhail vanished. "Conspiracy? All the more reason to make him . . ."

"Mikhail, he is a man, albeit a young one. And if he had not been there, we might never have suspected that the Terrans were considering an assault on the funeral procession and an attempt on your life!" The words came out in a rush, more abruptly than Lew had intended, and they had the effect of halting any further questions. Instead, everyone just stared at Lew as if he had lost his mind. "That is why Nico did not run back here-he decided it was best if he remained in place and kept an eye on things. He knows the face of one of the conspirators, and he can describe the others. And I promised him that someone would join him at the North Gate. The only question is who."

"Kill me . . ." Mikhail was stunned. "But, why?"

"How better to gain control of Darkover?"

"But I thought the Federation was going to leave."

"That is our current information, yes. But it appears that Federation Intelligence may have been using the Travelers as spies, and I have to wonder how long that has been going on. It would explain a few incidents which have troubled me during recent years."

At this, Danilo nodded in agreement, his exhausted face actually brightening, as if the news distracted him momentarily from his grief. "That does answer some questions, doesn't it? The Travelers! What fools we were not to have thought of them before."