"I am sorry that Alanna and I are being so much trouble. You look very tired, Mother. Headachey?"

"Just a bit. And you are not any trouble, Nico. Never that. But the desire to take to my bed with a sopping kerchief full of lavender on my brow is very attractive. The preparations for Regis' funeral are perfectly exhausting, and Lady Linnea is so sad it nearly breaks my heart. If it were not for Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, I think I would collapse completely." She gave a soft laugh.

"Share the joke, please." He did not want to put an end to this particular conversation just yet.

"I was just thinking how the first time I ever set eyes on Danilo, I nearly fainted from terror. I had been on Darkover less than a week, and I had no knowledge of catalyst telepathy or anything like it. I just felt he was a danger to me, an inexplicable foe. The Alton Gift was starting to manifest, and I was doing everything in my power to deny it-telling myself I was imagining things, or going crazy, or both. I wanted nothing to do with him, and now I don't think I could manage without him. It struck me funny-that's all."

"Is there anything I can do to help, Mother?"

"Not really. The casket has been ordered, and the hangings. We would have used those from Danvan's funeral, but the moths had been at them, and they were tatters. Just another detail to occupy my mind. It keeps me from thinking about other things, like Alanna, or the fact that your father and mine are closeted with Hermes Aldaran, trying to hammer out some policy without even a clue as to what the Federation might decide to do. And your grandparents have just arrived from Armida, so I wish to be several places at once."

"There isn't a laran for that," he said kindly, ignoring the chill that the mention of his grandmother aroused in him. She could not do him any real mischief, could she?

Marguerida chuckled. "Just as well. Can you imagine the chaos if we were bi-locational?"

"Oh, I don't know. You could be taking a nap while attending a Council meeting."

"I don't need any special talent to do that. I've had any number of snoozes during some of the more boring parts, and been rudely aroused when the shouting started. Tell me, son, what do you think of Katherine Aldaran?"

"I like her very much. I think she is finding Darkover difficult, and making the best she can of it."

"I have not been able to spend more than a moment with her, and had to deputize Gisela, which was probably a mistake. But they are sisters-in-law, so it was logical. After that nonsense of the clothes at dinner last night, they are likely not even speaking to one another-which is just one more thing that I don't have time to deal with!" Damn Giz for being such a troublemaker! I wish she would grow up and start behaving like a woman instead of a spoiled brat!

"You worry too much, Mother. Go take a nap and have a cup of tea. Domna Katherine can take care of herself. And Aunt Gisela never likes other women, especially if they are beautiful. She cannot help it."

"You are very wise for your years, Nico. Yes, a nap is in order-if only no further upsets occur."

Marguerida left the room as a servant came in and started to clean up the mess on the floor. Domenic sat down, then jumped back to his feet a minute later, and began to pace. The entire weight of Comyn Castle seemed to press against his skull, and he tried to shake the feeling away.

What was the matter with him? Nico tried to discover the source of his oppression, and at last it came to him. He did not want to attend the last rites of Regis Hastur. He could not bear the thought, even for a moment. It was more than just his sorrow at losing a man who had always been there for him. The grief was real, but beneath it there was a well of barely contained fury and fear, as if the walls were closing in on him.

His mind went to the red-haired girl in the Traveler's cart. How fortunate she was to be free, without obligations or duties. How wonderful it would be to go where he wanted, when he wanted.

An idea began to form, a wicked and wonderful notion. Nico shook his head at himself, and tried to make it go away. Could he really sneak out and go to see that night's performance? He really should not, but the more he tried to persuade himself out of it, the more attractive the idea became. Of course he could go with his usual contingent of Guards-that would be almost acceptable. But he wanted to go alone, unaccompanied. He wanted to have at least one adventure before he was shut up forever.

Then he chuckled. It was something Rory would do, never Domenic. Well, he would show that he was not as stuffy as everyone thought, not the "good" son. His mother might just get her wish, that he would do something which surprised her. Now all he had to do was find a way to exit the Castle without being noticed. The sense of oppression almost vanished as he drew a deep breath, and began to plan his escape.

7.

The carriage rattled over the cobblestones, and Katherine Aldaran studied her sister-in-law, sitting languidly on the opposite bench, her lower body draped in a furred blanket. What a complicated woman she was turning out to be. First she had played a mean trick, and then apparently to make amends had appeared right after breakfast that morning with an armful of garments and the offer to take Kate to met Master Gilhooly, the head of the Painters Guild. She had not apologized, nor even alluded to the previous evening, but instead had seemed to only be interested in being helpful.

She had shown Katherine how to deal with the multiple petticoats every Darkovan woman was expected to wear. Each one was dyed a slightly darker hue, and when Katherine put them on, with a fine chemise beneath them, the effect was not only quite pretty but warm as well. A skirt, embroidered with leaves, and tunic to match completed the ensemble. The colors were more suited to a redhead than to Katherine's coloring but they did well enough, and when Gisela sat her down and dressed her hair, pulling it back and fastening it with a very lovely butterfly clasp, she was both pleased with the reflection in the glass and forgiving of her new sister-in-law as well. The nagging suspicion that Gisela might be up to something faded back, but Katherine thought she would be a fool to drop her guard completely around this obviously complex woman whose agendas were unknown to her.

The trip to the Painters Guild had been pleasant, and Gisela had pointed out things of interest, and told her some of Darkover's history as well. She had been animated, clever with her words, and not at all like the coyly manipulative woman who had visited her the day before, and given her the impression that wearing Federation evening clothes to the welcoming banquet was the correct thing to do. But now Gisela seemed weary and out of sorts, as if returning to Comyn Castle was something unpleasant.

Katherine tried to think of something to say, wanting to restore the previous mood, which was more comfortable for her. She noticed, in a distant way, that Gisela, like Herm, was an oddly restful person for her. Kate had always appreciated it that her husband managed to hide his feelings so well, and it appeared that Gisela had the same quality. That absence of emotional need had made their marriage tranquil. She resented that Herm had kept so many secrets from her, but that was a different matter altogether, one she would deal with in her own way.

"Thank you again for taking me. Even though Herm has taught me rather a lot of casta, I could never have managed without you. My vocabulary was not up to it."

Gisela smiled vaguely and nodded. Then she plucked at the hem of her tunic and shifted on the bench. "He would not have thought, if he even knew the terms himself, which I rather doubt, of how many words are specific to painters. And, truthfully, I would not have known myself, except that for the past decade I have been so bored that I have read anything I could get my hands on, whether I was initially interested in the subject or not. One of the books I found in the Castle archives was a treatise, about three hundred years old. 'Concerning the Limner's Craft.' The parchment is yellowed and starting to crumble, so I had to be careful. And I don't suppose anyone but me and the archivist even know it exists. I have picked up a great deal of information that I never expected to use. It was rather amusing to find an application for some of it at last." She did not sound amused, in fact she was clearly discontented. But somehow Katherine was not made uncomfortable by these feelings. Maybe it was a family characteristic, this containment. She wondered for a moment if their brother, Robert Aldaran, and his father would be the same.

Katherine tried to imagine a life as confined as she knew Gisela's must be, and felt more than a little sorry for the woman. "Well, I am happy that you were bored, then, because it was a great treat for me. Are you bored often?"

Gisela looked at her, green eyes glinting in the light that came through the windows of the vehicle, as if she were seeking some hidden meaning in the words. "Most of the time, yes, I am."

Katherine could sense a sudden tension in her sister-in-law and realized she had to tread warily. "I am sorry, but I don't understand. I would imagine that living in Comyn Castle would be . . . pleasant."

A bitter laugh answered her. "You might find it that, but I have never done so." Gisela drew her fine brows together and pursed her lips. "I am there because Regis Hastur wanted some way to guarantee my father's good behavior, not because I am wanted or needed. I have no purpose but as a pawn, and I suppose I have never had one-it makes me very cross."

"That would make me cross, too, Gisela. But I still don't quite understand."

"What?" Gisela sat up on her bench, her face twisted with hope and wariness at the same time.

Kate wondered what had happened to this obviously intelligent woman to make her so untrusting. "Well, why you think you have no purpose except as a pawn, I suppose."

"I am not like you, Katherine, or like Marguerida. I don't have anything that matters to me the way I know now that art matters to you, or music does to Marguerida. Watching you talk to Master Gilhooly-the way your face lit up-made my . . . stomach hurt." She reddened, looked mildly ashamed, and gave a little sigh. "I was not raised for such things. I was never encouraged to find an avocation-something which would fill my life with passion and meaning. My father spoiled me very badly, and I always believed I could have anything I wanted. It was only later that I understood that I could only have what he wanted, if I was fortunate. I am just a woman, and on Darkover that doesn't count for much."

"How were you unfortunate, then?"

Gisela stared her for a second. "You are really interested, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. Why would I pretend otherwise?"

"You wouldn't, I guess. You are a very odd woman, Kate, and I cannot think of anyone like you. I just don't know what to make of you."

"There is nothing to make of me, Giz. But, you see, I was born on Renney, where women hold the reins of power, and I am having a great deal of trouble understanding Darkover. The things you told me when we were going to the Painters Guild were more than a little disturbing, and if Herm expects me to turn into some sort of subservient wife, doing whatever he wishes without asking questions, then I want to know about it beforehand, so I can box his ears. He seems different already."

"Women have the power . . . what a peculiar notion. Hmm. I rather fancy that. It sounds very attractive." She paused for a moment, her face reflective. "I'll wager Herm is probably not telling you things you think you should know, am I right?"

"The number of things that Herm has not told me during the course of our marriage so far is already enormous, and I am quite angry with him." She bit off the words before she said more, surprised by her own candor. She did not know Gisela very well, and had already learned that the woman was capable of being spiteful, and that she was a chancy ally at best. But she needed to talk to someone, and her new sister-in-law was the only one she had found so far. "We have had a happy marriage until now, and I feel . . . betrayed."

"Poor Katherine." There seemed to be a genuine compassion in the words. "Herm is a good man, but he has always been very secretive, even when he was a boy. I think it was his way of dealing with our father, who is a difficult man at the best of times." She laughed mirthlessly. "And in Aldaran Castle, it is never the best of times! Our family was mistrusted-cast out-by the other Domains, long before I was born. That drove my father into fits of fury. Then Regis Hastur decided that the Aldarans should not be punished for things that had happened in the past, and his first gesture toward reconciliation was to appoint Hermes to the Chamber of Deputies. It was a small thing, and it did not satisfy my father, whose desire was to be a power to be reckoned with on Darkover, instead of sitting up in the Hellers like a hawk in jesses. I think he expected Herm's appointment to lead to something immediately, but it didn't. And I don't think Father has ever understood my brother's character."

"And what is that?" Katherine was fascinated now. True, Gisela had not known Herm for over two decades, and was several years younger than her brother. But the earlier part of their journey had raised her opinion of the other woman considerably. More, she had always been curious about her husband's history, and frustrated that he refused to discuss it.

"It is not easy to put into words. I would say that he is very solitary. Indeed, I was stunned to find out he had a wife and children-it was so unlike the Hermes I remembered. We have an animal in the Hellers, the scavenger-wolf, which runs in packs and howls in the night. But sometimes, for no reason anyone knows, one of these beasts leaves his pack and goes off on its own. When I was little, I always thought Herm was like one of those."

"A lone wolf-yes, that makes sense. And your father did not understand that?"

"Well, it made him uncomfortable, because he could not command Herm to do his bidding. But I don't think that was the problem, for my father is not an introspective man, and he does not give much attention to anyone other than himself. No, it was another matter entirely." She took a breath. "Again, it is difficult to express exactly. I think that my brother loves Darkover more than he can ever love a living person, Kate. Please do not suspect me of malice, although you would be completely justified if you did. I do not mean to hurt your feelings in saying this-and you did ask me."

"No, I don't. It fits in with what I know of my husband. Not happy knowledge, but at least I no longer feel I have misjudged him completely. Thank you." She sighed, letting some of the tension leave her body. "Now, tell me your sad tale, please."

"It is not sad, exactly, although I often feel as if it were, when I am in one of my black moods. It isn't even very interesting. I fell in love with Mikhail Hastur when he came to visit Aldaran Castle. I was sixteen and he was the first person outside my family, other than some Terranan who visited my father, I had ever gotten to know. My father approved, in his way. He encouraged me in my folly, and I was young enough to think that something would come of it. Mikhail was Regis' heir, and marrying him would make me the greatest lady on Darkover! Regis wanted to bring the Aldarans back into Darkovan society, and it seemed to me a perfect solution. I had no idea what kind of opposition such a notion would arouse, because my father had filled my head with some extremely silly things, and I was too young to understand the politics of the situation. Politics!" Gisela spat the word out.

"I quite agree. So what happened then?" Katherine sensed that her sister-in-law was revisiting something old and painful, that she had longed to speak of it and had had no one she could open up to. It was not the first time she had heard things she had no business knowing-the models for her portraits often became positively garrulous while posing. And though she was uncertain whether she wanted Gisela's confidences, Kate could see no harm in learning more about her husband's family.

"Absolutely nothing! Mikhail went away, and Herm became a Deputy and left. Time passed, and Mik did not return, nor did he send me any messages and my father grew impatient. In one of his furies he decided to marry me off to an old drunk who had already buried two wives, to get me off his hands, since I had not furthered his dreams as he thought I should have. Those were the worst four years of my life." She shuddered all over and reflected for a moment. "That part was rather sad, I suppose."

Kate felt the pain in the words and wondered if this new relative knew how very courageous she was, to have endured such a trial. She shifted a little on the hard bench of the carriage, trying not to let her usual discomfort with people in general influence her too much. "I take it the old drunk died. Or did you divorce him?"

"We don't have marriage dissolutions on Darkover, or at least not very often. No, he broke his neck out hunting before I had time to find a way to poison him, and good riddance! So, there I was, a young widow with two sons, and Regis reformed the Comyn Council, and invited my father to come to Thendara. I came with him, all ready to recapture Mikhail's interest, and there was Marguerida, in what I imagined was to be my position!" She shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to relieve herself of some old burden.

"That sounds completely miserable for you. What happened then?" In spite of her now increasing unease, Katherine was fascinated and did not want her sister-in-law to stop talking.

"There was a ball, for Midwinter," Gisela began, her voice distant now. "My father had backed Regis into an agreement to announce that Mikhail and I would be married, to heal the breach between the Domains, you see. I have never been so anxious in my life as I was that night, because I had a sense of dread, a certainty that it was not going to happen the way I wished. We Aldarans have the Gift of foresight. Gift-it's often more of a curse! And then Marguerida and I ended up in an alcove, glaring at each other, and she told me that I had put my heart on the wrong Hastur. Before I could reply, everyone in the ballroom who had any laran heard this terrible, booming voice-it was incredible! The next thing I knew Mik and Marguerida were dashing out of the room, and Mikhail's sister Ariel went into labor with Alanna, and people were fainting and screaming and having fits. Mikhail and Marguerida left the Castle and rode away to Hali Tower, where somehow they . . . managed to get away into the past."

"Yes. Mikhail said something about it at dinner last night, and at first I thought he was pulling my leg. Then I realized he was serious, which was even more difficult to take than being the butt of a joke. They really did?"

"Well, they went somewhere-somewhen? I still have a hard time imagining it, and I always wished it were me, not her, of course! When they returned, several weeks had passed for them, but only a night had for us, and they were married and she was pregnant with Domenic! I tell you, this was a lot to believe, and there are a few people, like my mother-in-law, who still don't, even though the best leroni on Darkover have attested to the actuality of these events. Javanne didn't want Mik to marry Marguerida any more than I did, but for different reasons, and she still insists that it was not a valid marriage. That is mostly spite, because she had not given her consent."

Gisela paused and shifted on the bench. "So there we all were, stuck with the situation. Rafael was very kind to me then, though I had never done anything to warrant it. And I knew then that Marguerida was right, that I had misinterpreted my foreseeing, and that Rafael was the man in my visions. I had known all along, but I had refused to see it."

"How had you known?"

"The Aldaran Gift, as I mentioned before. I saw myself married to a Hastur and I persuaded myself that it had to be Mikhail, because I wanted it to be. I was well aware he had two brothers. I just pretended to myself that Gabe and Rafael did not exist-what a goose of a girl I was!" The self-loathing in her voice made Kate want to cringe.

During the ride to the Painters Guild, Katherine had almost managed to forget that the people around her had peculiar "gifts," that the woman sitting across from her was a telepath, and perhaps more. She had let herself be persuaded by Marguerida's assurances that her thoughts were safe. Now all her doubts and fears returned, at the mention of the Aldaran Gift, and she swallowed hard, and forced herself to sound calm and casual. "Yes, the Aldaran Gift. Herm told me a little about it, but I am not sure I believed him."

Gisela gave a genuine laugh this time. "Oh, it is very real, but interpreting it is pretty chancy. And I never told anyone-I can't imagine why I am speaking so openly to you." She looked into Katherine's eyes then, a piercing gaze full of fear and a deep longing as well. "The only person who knows the most of it is probably Marguerida, and she is much too tactful to ever throw it in my face. Sometimes I wish she were not quite so . . . disciplined. Or that I could be more like her and less like myself."

Kate returned the look, trying to put into it her unspoken intention to be a good friend, for the more she listened to Gisela, the more she found her to be both brave and lonely. "It is easier, sometimes, to tell things to strangers than to people you know well."

"You see, that is exactly the problem. There are no strangers in my life-only folk I know so well that I can anticipate what they will say before they speak the words. Sometimes I think that if Rafael clears his throat before he asks me how I am today one more time, I will . . . go mad."

"Please don't do that."

Gisela laughed quietly and her shoulders drooped a little. "No, I guess I won't, I would surely have done so years ago if I were going to. All in all, life has not been terrible, just not terribly satisfactory. My husband cares for me a great deal. Even with all the naughty things I did."

"What sort of things?"

"Well, I listened to my father, which was my first mistake, and I did a few things that were . . . impolitic. They did not do serious damage to anyone except that Rafael was embarrassed and no longer completely trusted, because of me. He is a proud man, and I shamed him in the eyes of his own brother. There are days when I would give anything to undo that. But I can't, and I have to endure the consequences of my own stupidity."

"What exactly did you do that was so terrible?" Katherine asked.

"I suggested that perhaps Mikhail should not be Regis' heir, because of his travels into the past and his marrying Marguerida, but that Rafael should instead. To anyone that would listen." The pain in her voice was unmistakable. "And the most terrible part is that he has never chided me for what I did, never made me ask for forgiveness for being a foolish, immature, conniving wretch. All he has done for fifteen years is try to make me happy, to help me be content with my lot in life, as he is with his."

"Umm . . . that rather goes beyond impolitic, Gisela."

She spat a bitter sounding laugh from between white lips. "I know-it was near to treason, except that I wasn't taken very seriously. I never do anything by halves. And when I understood that it was hurting Rafael, I stopped and tried to be good. I studied chess, pretending that the pieces were the inhabitants of Comyn Castle, until I grew weary of that, and then I started to write a text on chess, which filled the empty hours, and read my way through the archives. I am probably the most well-read woman on the planet." She gave a feeble smile. "Marguerida even consults me on old books, sometimes, which should make me happy, but nothing really does."

"But haven't you ever found anything you loved to do?" The words came out before Kate could restrain them. She could hardly bear the anguish in the voice of the other woman, and the sense of her pain.

"No."

"Even when you were a little girl?"

To Kate's surprise, Gisela blushed along her high cheekbones and looked down at her hands. She mumbled something, but the folds of her cloak muffled the words.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't quite catch that," Kate said.

Gisela lifted her head and looked directly at Katherine for a minute without speaking. "There was something." She flexed her hands, with the extra finger that Herm had told Katherine was common in the Domain families, and which looked so peculiar. "I liked to carve-such a common thing. My nurse made me stop; because it was dirty and she said I might cut myself with the knife. I was so ashamed. I hadn't thought about that in years, until a few days ago." She stopped talking and looked out the window of the carriage. "It was the day you came, and I was looking at this fantastic chess set that Marguerida gave me for Midwinter, and thinking how lucky it was that the figures had escaped from the stone and bone they were made from. I felt as if I were somehow trapped in stone . . ."

Kate was nearly squirming with discomfort now. She was angry, that a perfectly intelligent woman was caught in such a dreadful trap. Stone, indeed. She drew a harsh breath and said, "I think it is terrible that your nurse shamed you, Gisela, and I also think it is high time you stopped letting what other people expect of you rule your life. I think you are terribly brave, too. I don't know if I could have been married to a drunk, and then held hostage!" The ugly word hung between them, almost visible, for a moment. "And as for wanting to be more like Marguerida and less like yourself-nonsense! If anything, you should want to be more like yourself!"

Gisela managed a shaky laugh. "I think if I were any more like myself, someone would strangle me, Kate."

"I don't mean being your lowest self, but being your very best." Kate could feel her impatience rise. Nana had always said it would be her downfall, and she had tried very hard to master it. Now she felt as if she had learned nothing over the years.

"My best self? You are either the most generous woman ever born, or you just don't understand!"

"Perhaps I don't or maybe it's you who don't understand. I was raised so differently than you were!"

"Tell me about that, please."

Katherine knit her brows for a moment, forcing herself to become calm again. She could not change the past for Gisela, but perhaps she could find a way to help her sister-in-law into a better future. "On Renney we believe that each person has a purpose, or more than one, and that we are obligated to discover what that is. We have a lot of complicated rituals that we use to find out what we are supposed to be. The idea of someone else deciding what we are going to do with our lives, of being trapped in place, is very hard for me to imagine."

"So, how did you find out you were supposed to become a painter?" There was a friendly glint in the dazzling green eyes of the other woman, and Kate had no doubt she was genuinely interested. Gisela smiled encouragingly, and some of the tension between them faded.

"I fasted for three days and then sat in a cold grove of trees for the night and waited. It was very unpleasant, but it was expected, so I did it anyway." She chuckled, more comfortable now. "My toes felt like ice and my belly was growling and nothing happened for hours and hours. I was just starting to feel as if I were going to fail when . . . something happened. Between one second and the next I wasn't cold any longer, and my head was filled with images, of people and places that I had never seen." She paused for a breath. "I was terrified and happy all at the same time, and my heart leaped in my chest. I just sat there feeling this incredible thing, and then it started to dawn, the light coming through the trees, making long shadows and coloring the trunks gold. And then I looked at my hands and discovered that I had a stick in one, and that the ground in front of me was covered with scratchings that I did not remember making, little figures of people and buildings. And I knew in my bones what I was supposed to be, and I went home and told my Nana, after eating a huge bowl of stew and giving myself a belly ache."

"Your Nana?"

"The mother of my mother."

"It sounds very interesting, except the part about the fasting." She patted her waist and sighed. "And no one asked you if you were sure, or wondered if you had just made the whole thing up or anything?"

"The Rennians believe that visions are a gift from the Goddess in her many forms, and to question one would be . . . unthinkable."

"I see. How old were you when this happened?"

"Twelve."

Gisela sighed. "Well, we don't have that sort of vision here on Darkover, and I am much too old to start, I think. It does sound wonderful, though."

"You are never too old to start something, Gisela. Stop talking as if your life were already over. You are younger than I am! I do not know your customs here. What harm would there be in you doing something that genuinely pleased you, instead of sitting around . . . feeling sorry for yourself."

Gisela winced. "There is that. How did you get to be so wise?"

"I'm not, but when you spend your days painting people, trying to capture them on canvas, you discover a great deal. The way they fold their hands or purse their mouths tells you something about them, often something they would rather not know."

"Oh." Self-consciously, Gisela tucked her hands under the edges of her cloak, then shrugged. "I guess it is too late to escape your eye, isn't it? What have you divined about my character that you think I would prefer not to know?"