"Will you tell me something now?"

"Anything."

"Why did you come to me yesterday?"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

"I . . . don't know, not really. I was ready to hate you, and after I saw you the first time, it got worse. And then, at dinner, when Danilo Syrtis-Ardais took me to task, because he took one look at you in your Terranan finery and knew exactly what had happened, I suddenly realized that I was behaving like a fool-that I didn't need to have you for an enemy." She shivered slightly. "It didn't cross my mind, when Rafael came back from the spaceport with all of you, that you could even want to be my friend, because I never imagined anyone would want that. I always wanted a sister, you know. But I had ruined things for myself with Marguerida, and here I was, starting off to mess everything up with you. So-I took a risk. I was scared to death, but I knew if I didn't at least try, I would regret it for the rest of my life."

"I am glad you did, Gisela. I have several sisters, but they are halfway across the galaxy, and I expect I will never see them again now. You were very brave."

"You said that yesterday, and I didn't believe you, but if you say it a few more times, maybe I will start to."

Katherine smiled and leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Gisela's warm cheek. Then she stepped away. "Now . . . how do we get you some proper carving tools?"

16.

The air in the little study was stale and filled with the smell of tense bodies. Lew Alton watched Mikhail, standing in front of the fireplace, fiddling with some small carved figures that stood along the mantle. The younger man looked more rested than he had the night before, despite the looming anxiety about Domenic. He smiled at his father-in-law, as if he understood Lew's concerns and was trying to reassure him. Donal stood a few paces away, alert and watchful. Then, aware of Lew's regard, he winked. It must be wonderful to be twenty-three, Lew thought, although his memories of himself at that age were so painful that he dreaded their recollection.

Mikhail turned and took his place behind Regis' scarred desk. He looked from face to face, studying each intently for a moment, as if measuring his advisors and weighing their strengths and weaknesses in his mind. Satisfied that his son-in-law was in as good a frame of mind as could be hoped for, Lew relaxed a little. Now they must decide how to proceed, and he had to find a way to keep himself in the background, to allow Mikhail to take the lead. Otherwise, he felt, Mikhail would not be confident in his own decisions, and he would need to be for the sake of all their futures.

Rafe Scott, formerly of Terran Intelligence, was sitting lazily in one chair, and Dani Hastur occupied another. Time had been kind to Scott, and while his hair had grayed and his tanned face was a bit wrinkled, he seemed much the same man that Lew had known decades before in a time so removed, so different, that it might as well have been another universe. When Lyle Belfontaine had forced him to retire from the Service, Rafe had started a venture with Rafaella, taking occasional parties of Terranan on mountaineering expeditions into the Hellers. It had made him rich by Darkovan standards. He had an additional pension from the Federation, which was even occasionally paid to him, much to his amusement. The loss of Scott at HQ had made things more difficult, for he possessed strong telepathy. Until a few days before, they had used Ethan MacDoevid, who while he did not have any laran, was quick and kept his wits about him. The man from Threadneedle Street had been a good channel of information, and they all regretted that his observations were no longer available to them.

Beside him, Dani Hastur, now thirty, was still the rather quiet person he had been in his adolescence, but he had more assurance than before. The death of his father was a blow, one that Lew knew he would only recover from with time. But Dani hated Thendara, and it was obvious from the set of his shoulders that he would rather be almost anywhere else than in what had been his father's study for so many years.

The sixth person in the room was Danilo Syrtis-Ardais. Regis' death had taken its greatest toll on him, and he had aged visibly in the past few days. But the look in his eyes remained vigilant, and it was clear that he was not going to allow his very real grief to impede the workings of his fine mind.

Mikhail sat, clenching and unclenching the hand that bore the great matrix of Varzil the Good, his lean jaw rigid. He seemed to be looking for something that Lew could not discern. Finally, he cleared his throat and began to speak. "As soon as Dom Damon favors us with his presence," he began, the irony in his words evident to all, "we will have to hold a Council meeting. The question is, what are we going to tell them?"

"That is succinct and to the point," Danilo replied crisply. "If we tell them that there is a plot to assassinate you, there is going to be hell to pay. Francisco Ridenow and Lady Javanne will demand proof, or action of some sort, and we all know it. And Nico's absence must be explained soon. So far we have managed to keep it secret, but eventually one of the servants will let the cat out of the bag, and then we will be up to our hips in wild speculation." He gave a narrow smile. "I confess I have even toyed with the idea of telling your meddlesome mother that he has been kidnapped by the Federation, just to see the expression on her face. If only she would keep out of things!"

Dani Hastur nodded. "Yes, exactly. Gareth was asking me this morning where Nico was, and I hardly knew how to answer him, since I realized we did not want this information to become common knowledge just yet." He gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Life would be a great deal easier if everyone minded their own business, wouldn't it?"

"Truer words were never spoken," Mikhail answered. "Let's get on with this-the longer we remain here the more wild speculation we will create. I have no doubt that Francisco, Lady Marilla, and my dear mother are already imagining all manner of things. The floor is open to suggestions, information, and even jokes, so long as they are relevant."

Rafe Scott shifted on his chair. "I have a little information that might be useful. I spent an hour in a tavern in the Trade City last evening, sipping beer and keeping my ears and mind open. I frequent the place enough to be taken for a regular, although the quality of the beer is not nearly as good as that of the gossip. Something is most assuredly up at HQ. There has been a veritable flood of messages going out for three days. What is most interesting is that, as far as I can gather, there has been no answer to them. The result is that the Terrans are becoming agitated, and are ready to jump at any shadow."

"Do you have any idea what was in those messages?"

"Most of them were in code, and the people I eavesdropped on were too lowly placed to have access. It would be very useful if you or I could take a stroll through HQ, Lew, but that is out of the question, I suppose."

"Perhaps. We've had several messages from Belfontaine, each one more shrill than the one before, and it seems clear from the most recent one that they now know that Regis is dead. He wants Herm Aldaran handed over to them, and an immediate interview with Mikhail, to discuss the future of the Federation on Darkover. It would be funny under other circumstances. It is a good thing I do not take offense easily, because the last message was extremely rude."

Rafe Scott chuckled softly. "That's Belfontaine all over. It sounds as if he thinks we are not aware that the Federation is planning to pull out-does he mention that?"

"No, he didn't. Any more than we have told him of Regis' passing. It is clear that his second, Miles Granfell, told him last night. It is a shame that we could not have kept Regis' death secret just a little longer," Lew answered.

"Why couldn't you go to HQ and see him," Dani asked.

"Oh, I could get in and speak to Belfontaine. The question is, could I then get out? Frankly, I am just a little too old to be a hostage. The same is true for Rafe." If necessary he would die for Darkover, but he was not willing to waste his life in a futile exercise.

"Once you were on what is still Federation territory, they feel they could pretty much do as they wished." Dani sounded uneasy at this idea.

"My information is that the port is shut down-is that right, Rafe?" Mikhail looked at the older man intently as he asked the question.

"Your information is correct. The port is closed, and there has not been an incoming ship for two days. Herm was lucky-his was the last Big Ship to come." Scott shook his head. "I don't like to think what this is doing to Federation trade, if this situation is occurring on planets closer to the hub."

"That is the Federation's problem, not ours," snapped Mikhail impatiently.

"No, Mik, not entirely. Even though we are largely independent of the Federation, we can't foresee how a large economic disruption within it might affect us. But that is for the future. What I observed is that low-ranking guards are still coming to the Trade City for recreation, and there is a certain quality of recklessness about them. They are aware that they will be leaving shortly, and act as if that gives them leave to do anything they wish. Already the City Guard have had to put down several brawls, and a few of the joy girls had bruises that were unusual. I popped in and called on Mestra MacIvan of the Red Sun House, and she said she was almost ready to close her doors, because things were getting ugly."

"But why? I don't understand that," Dani wondered.

Rafe shifted in his chair. "My guess is that they think they can get away with anything, perhaps even murder, and not have to worry about any consequences."

"Yes," said Danilo. "The Commandant of the City Guards sent word this morning, wondering what to do with the Terranan he has already arrested, because his lock-up is getting rather full. And Belfontaine demanded, in another of his messages, that they be released immediately. His errand boys must be getting footsore, running back and forth between the castle and HQ." He gave a wry grin. "I answered that they had destroyed property, and would not be let go until it was paid for, which should give him something to chew on for an hour or two. Still, I don't quite know what to do about the problem. We can't build another jail overnight, and if we let these men go back onto Federation territory, they will likely just return and cause more trouble."

"What about the orphanage?" Donal asked this, then looked selfconscious.

"The John Reade Orphanage? What about it, Donal?" Mikhail asked.

"It has been standing empty since the Federation shut it down two years ago, and it is built like a fortress. It has lots of rooms, and from what Domna Marguerida has told me about it, it was little better than a prison to start with." His cheeks were rosy, but he was standing his ground, and Lew gave him an approving nod.

A slow grin crept across Mikhail's tired face, and years dropped away, leaving him looking very youthful instead of middle-aged. "A very elegant solution, which will no doubt amuse Marguerida greatly. Danilo, tell Belfontaine that his men are going to remain in our custody until payment is made, or until the Federation leaves. That should put him off-balance for a few minutes, since he does not yet know that we know they are pulling out. It will give him something to think about other than trying to kill me. Is there more, Rafe?"

"A bit. Most of the people I watched are low level, without any access to really sensitive information. They are worried, I would say, and what they seem to be worried about is that the Federation will not send ships to remove them at the appointed time, but will instead abandon them here. It has happened on other worlds, and even though it was not common knowledge when I left, it seems to be that now. The overall impression I got was that no one knows what is going on or what is going to happen. This has left them anxious, and reckless as well."

"Interesting," Lew said, leaning forward, so he could look at Scott around Dani. "It sounds as if those at the top are keeping those at the bottom in the dark, doesn't it?"

"Exactly. The rank and file are clearly uneasy, and I did not see any officers."

"Is that good or bad?" Mikhail asked.

"Bad, I suspect. If Emmet Grayson still had any authority, we could approach him. But since the reorganization of the Federation bureaucracy, most of the real power has been in Belfontaine's hands, and we know him to be our enemy."

"How many trained fighters can Belfontaine muster in Thendara?" Mikhail leaned forward across the desk as he spoke, his eyes intent.

"Now, that is a very good question, and one I cannot answer accurately. When I retired, there were about two hundred, but I don't know if this number has been added to or reduced. Then there are those up in Aldaran territory. I tried to get a count the last time I took a party into the Hellers, and I would guess that there are between seventy-five and a hundred men there, many of them no better than raw recruits. But there are some veterans of the Pali Uprising, marines and soldiers both, and they know their business. There might be a few more, since I suspect that some of the technicians are actually combat trained."

"What is your opinion of Belfontaine, Rafe? You have had more contact with him than anyone except Lew and myself." Danilo spoke the question before anyone else could.

"He is shrewd and ambitious, and he has long wanted to advance his position. He got into some sort of trouble when he was Adjutant on Lein III, and was sent to Darkover in disgrace. He has been chafing to find some action for years now, and he will see Regis' death as an opportunity to end Darkover's Protected status, by claiming that the Federation needs to step in and keep order, or some other fabrication. It would not be the first time a Terran official acted in his own best interest. The Federation usually doesn't interfere with this sort of adventurism, since bringing all the planets into the fold is their aim anyhow."

"Is this Belfontaine an Expansionist?" Dani asked the question, wrinkling his brow with concentration. He had never had much interest in the problems of governance, and his years in the Elhalyn Domain had put him out of touch with current information.

"I don't think he has any politics, or even political alliance, just a driving ambition to become a general before he is sixty," Scott answered dryly. "He comes from an industrial family, one that owns entire planets, and essentially even the people who live on them, which gives him a particular way of seeing things that is incomprehensible to me. In the usual circumstances, he would have gone into the business, but from something he let slip once, it seems they did not think him suitable, and he ended up in the service of the Federation instead. I have the impression that in his family, working for the Federation is regarded as a step down, something that is only for people who are not sharp enough to survive the corporate environment. I think that gives him something to prove. What I am certain of is that he hates Darkover, has a very low opinion of our people, and sincerely believes that we would be much better off under the dominion of the Federation, rather than continuing on as we have for centuries."

"Then it is safe to assume that if someone came to him and suggested that it would be possible to assassinate me on the way to the rhu fead, he would jump at the chance." Mikhail said the words slowly, as if they were sour in his mouth.

"Possibly."

"Only that?"

"He is not a stupid man, Mikhail. He has to step with a little care, because the last thing the Federation would want is some ambitious fellow setting himself up as a warlord. He might succeed in killing you, and then find himself facing a firing squad for treason."

"In other words, he needs to make it appear that he is acting in the best interests of the Federation, not his own?"

"Yes, Dani, exactly. He has enough trained men to attack the funeral train-but I can't guess if he would do it. I suspect that some of these unanswered messages he has been sending are an attempt to get some sort of authorization for intervening in Darkover's affairs, and that he has also asked for reinforcements. It must be very frustrating for him to have no reply. Lew, do you agree?"

"I do. I assume that since disbanding the Legislature, the Federation has been in too much of a turmoil to worry about some little backwater like Darkover-for which we should be very grateful."

Mikhail gave a grunt. "I don't like this, but I can't think of anything to do to change it. Lew, have you had any further word from Nico and Herm?"

"I know they joined up with Rafaella this morning, and headed toward Carcosa. If there have been developments beyond that, I have not been informed of them."

"That was a good idea of Marguerida's," Scott offered. "Rafi was thrilled to get out on the road."

"Does anyone have any ideas to propose?" Mikhail asked.

Young Donal cleared his throat and everyone looked at him with surprise. The paxman turned slightly pink with embarrassment at being the center of attention. "I don't want to talk out of turn, but ever since Nico left, I have been thinking, and I've spent some time looking at maps of the route to the rhu fead."

"There is no need to be hesitant, Donal," Danilo said kindly. "You will have to learn to advise Mikhail as I have done for Regis for all these years. It is one of the more interesting duties of the paxman, you know." He grinned wryly, but his eyes were filled with memory and sorrow. "You are even permitted to offer unpleasant thoughts to Mikhail, without fear of censure."

"That's right, Donal," Mikhail said. "I remember a night, right here in this room, over sixteen years ago, when Danilo told my uncle that he must abandon any hope of me marrying Gisela Aldaran. He did not like it, but he took it well enough." Mikhail and Danilo both chuckled at the memory. "Go on."

Instead of speaking, Donal reached into his beltpouch and took out a folded piece of very thin paper. He opened it out and laid it on the desk in front of Mikhail, smoothing it carefully. "I traced this out last evening, using one of the old maps that the Terranan did years ago, and another that Rafaella gave to Domna Marguerida."

"Why did you use two?" Dani wondered.

"The map from the Terranan is what is called a contour map, which means it shows the shape of the land, but does not have a lot of information about towns and farms. It is pretty old, but since the land remains the same, it should still be accurate."

"It must be something done from one of their geosynchronous satellites, when they could get the infernal things to function," Scott suggested. "It used to drive their people almost mad, for just when they got one up and running, they would have peculiar failures, and go off-line again. It gave me a poor notion of their technology at first. But someone explained to me that our sun gives off a strange radiation that bolluxes up the readings or something. Personally, I think Aldones doesn't want strangers taking pictures of Darkover."

Everyone chuckled at this, except Donal, who remained serious.

"I don't know about that. The Federation thing shows how the ground rises and falls, and I made the best copy I could. Then I took Rafaella's map, which is just a sketch of things along the Old North Road, and added that information to the first one. By using both, we can look at the landmarks and such, but also can see more about the terrain." He pointed at one section. "For instance, here Rafaella marked a big farm, a small village, and suggested the shape of the road. But on the Terranan map, you can see how the farm is spread over several hills, that the land rises and falls, and that the road winds in a slightly different manner than she drew. I just thought it would be useful to us to look for places where an ambush might be possible. And there are a couple that I found."

Scott stood up and looked at the map from his side of the desk. "The places marked in red, Donal?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are right. Those are logical places for an ambush."

"I thought that perhaps we could . . . put some of the Guardsmen in ordinary clothing, a few of them, and send them ahead to scout out things," Donal said. "I mean, why should we go into this with only Nico and Herm and Rafaella's Renunciates? Let's outguess the Terrans, and spike their plans." His young face was fierce now.

"That is a clever idea, Donal," Danilo said, his voice warm with approval. "And do you have any suggestions as to who these men might be?"

"I made a list." Donal pulled another piece of paper out of his pouch, rather wrinkled, and with a great many crosscuts, and offered it to Mikhail. "I would have consulted Commandant Ridenow, but I thought I had better not, since it would raise questions and get back to Francisco. And after I could not think of a way to get any of the Guards from the barracks assigned, it struck me that there are a lot of loyal older men, no longer on active duty, who are living in Thendara right now. I picked men who have had experience fighting bandits, who are seasoned and smart as well, and whose absence would not cause comment."

Danilo stood up, circled the desk, and leaned over Mikhail's shoulder. "These are good choices, for the most part. The only problem I can foresee is how to do this in secrecy."

"Are you afraid of Terranan spies, Uncle Danilo?" Dani Hastur asked, "Or are you worried about some members of the Council getting wind of what's happening?"

"Both, Dani. These men have families, and if they say anything, it will be gossip in an hour. You were wise not to talk to the Commandant, Donal."

"I knew that Cisco would tell his father something was up, and then Grandmother Javanne would hear of it, and then the fat would have been in the fire." He spoke simply but with great feeling.

"Your discretion does you credit, Donal."

The young paxman grinned broadly. "I learned that from watching Lew all these years."

"Did you now?" Lew was pleased and amused.

"When I was ten, you told me that information was the real power in the world, not kings and Domains. I have tried to remember the lesson. And when I was chosen to be paxman to Mikhail, I watched how Danilo was with Regis, how he listened more than he talked, but always seemed to know everything."

"You have all the makings of a fine advisor," Rafe Scott praised.

Danilo Syrtis-Ardais stood up. "I think that I can accomplish what needs to be done without arousing too much talk. I can think of a few additions to make to Donal's list, but for the most part, it will do very well indeed. And, just to muddy the waters a bit, I think I will suggest to Cisco that he go over the reserve list."

"Why that?"

"It will give him something to do, for one thing, and we may find we need to have those men mobilized, if the Terranan continue to misbehave in the Trade City."

"Danilo," said Lew in admiration, "I am very glad you are on our side, and not theirs."

"Make it so," Mikhail said quietly. "Now all we need to do is decide what, if anything, we are going to tell the Council, and when."

"That is the sticky point, isn't it?" Lew answered. "The funeral is planned for three days from now, so I suggest you delay any meeting until the day before that. You know that Javanne is going to try to overset you, and that she has at least two allies on the Council-Francisco and Lady Marilla Aillard. She has not budged an inch over the years."

"You are right, Lew." Mikhail looked sad at this. He had managed to reconcile with his father, Dom Gabriel, but his mother remained adamant in her refusal to accept the agreement that had been worked out fifteen years before, where Danilo Hastur became the Elhalyn Regent, and Mikhail was Regis' heir designate. It was her ruling obsession, a kind of blind fury that drove her to bouts of near madness. Had she been anyone other than the sister of Regis Hastur, and the wife of Dom Gabriel, she would have been confined long since.

"I spoke to her this morning," Dani said. "I found her in the dining room with Mother, insisting that . . . It was a very distressing encounter. And Mother was ready to collapse. It made me wish I were a more forceful person."

"What happened?"

"As soon as she saw me, Aunt Javanne became very . . . friendly. It made my skin crawl. She told me that she was sure that wiser heads would prevail, and I would be made to take Mikhail's place. I could tell she meant herself when she said wiser heads, and I tried to explain to her that I did not want to govern Darkover, that I wouldn't have the job for all the gold in Carthanon. She didn't listen, but at least it gave Mother a chance to escape back to her rooms." He frowned. "She said I must not think of myself so much, but should consider my heritage and that of my children. Do you know, I think she imagines that if she cannot twist me to her will, she will go after Gareth! Forgive me. I have said too much." He looked stricken and miserable.

"My poor mother thinks that she is the wisest woman on Darkover, and also imagines that she will live forever. The temptation to give her a powerful sleeping draught is almost irresistable."

"That might not be a bad idea," Lew said, completely seriously, and found himself the object of five pairs of startled eyes. Then everyone realized he was teasing them, and a chuckle came from Mikhail, followed by an eruption of laughter in the room. It eased the tension, and everyone began to relax slightly.