Hermes realized he had hurt his wife deeply, with his own avoidance and denial. He would have had to bring his daughter back to Darkover in a couple of years, for her own safety, but he had refused to think about it until a crisis forced him to. And he had blundered badly.

He was shaken again, as the enormity of his folly finally blossomed in his mind. It gave the lie to the great confidence Herm had always had in himself, in his inate cunning and cleverness. These seemed worthless now, the wrong tools for the task. "As well carve a roast with a spoon," as they said in the Hellers. This was not dissembling before the interested eyes of some political foe, but a different sort of problem, a human one, full of conflicting feelings. And, he admitted to himself with great reluctance, he was not really very good with strong feelings. It put him too much in mind of the endless tensions of Aldaran Castle in his childhood, where loud voices and passions were the order of the day. He had left Darkover as much to escape those as to serve the planet of his birth.

Katherine mopped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffed noisily. Herm reached into his pouch and took out a square of linen and offered it to her. This ordinary object-an "obsolete" cloth handkerchief brought with it a sense of powerful distinction, for there were no paper tissues available on Darkover, unless there was a supply at HQ. Nothing on Darkover was easily disposable, not nose wipes or people. And that was a profound difference. To the Terran mind, almost everything was replaceable except power. By contrast, Darkovans were pack rats, saving everything and using it until it just wore out.

Herm had become accustomed to the ease of life in the Federation, but never completely comfortable with it. He thought it very extravagant to discard a perfectly good object just because there was a newer one available. He prefered the soft feel of real linen bedsheets to the papercloth ones he had slept on for twenty-three years, and the faint smell of age in the stones and plaster of the walls, saturated with centuries of woodsmoke and seasons, to the sterile one of a typical Federation apartment. He liked being home, but this was not Katherine's home, and it must seem very strange to her. Houses on Renney were made of wood, not stone, and castles were virtually unknown there. There was nothing he could do about that, short of letting her leave Darkover, to return to Renney with her son. And that thought was unbearable, and probably impossible now, if what he had learned in the meeting was accurate.

Katherine blew her nose several times. "Forgive me, dearest. just when I think I have myself under control, I go all to pieces again. I can't bear the idea of Terese going away-she's still a child. And, quite truthfully, I hope she will have no talents at all, and will just continue to be a normal little girl." She hesitated, and Herm saw both fear and great sorrow in her beautiful eyes. "Of course, a normal little girl here can read minds or do . . . the goddess only knows what!"

Herm patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Kate-I am the one who needs forgiving. I should have told you years ago, before we married, I suppose. Yes, that would have been the wisest thing. Or not married you at all. My only excuse is that I fell passionately in love with you the second I saw you, and I was not thinking very clearly. Later . . . well, I was too scared I'd lose you."

She gave a little snort. "You are claiming the triumph of hormones and emotion over reason, then?"

"Something like that."

"I suppose I should feel complimented-since you are the most calculating person I have ever known-that you did one thing just because you wanted to. Nana told me you were keeping some secret from me, but did I listen?" She gave a gusty sigh. "At least I will never see her again, and be spared hearing her say 'I told you so'. That's very chilly comfort, Hermes."

"I am sure it is. Your Nana is a very smart woman, and she almost saw through me."

"What do you mean?" Katherine sounded a little less despondent now, although still not her usual lively self.

"A few times she almost penetrated my secret, and I know she thought I had second sight, which is an old tradition among your people. It is my guess that the Rennians, who are not unlike the population of Darkover in several ways, including linguistics, have some genetic predisposition toward what we call laran."

"Why?"

"Some of the stories I heard when we visited, about those old witches and sorcerers, sounded remarkably like leroni. It is just a guess, but not a bad one, I suspect."

"But, Herm, those are folktales. Surely you did not take them seriously! My great-great-grandmother was not really able to charm animals or turn herself into a white cat when the second moon was full-that is all nonsense." Her dark eyes were rather wide as she spoke, as if she saw the world of her birth in a new light, and found the prospect not very comfortable.

"True, about the cat. But we have a few people here on Darkover who can make contact with animals in such a way as to influence their actions. And I think that telepathy is probably more common in humankind than is generally believed."

"Then why hasn't the Federation . . .?"

"Why haven't they discovered it and exploited it, as they do everything else? Because it is intangible, I suppose, because you cannot hold it in your hand and grasp it. And they almost did, once. There was a thing called Project Telepath, back when Regis was first in power, in which we agreed to participate. But Lew Alton, who was our Senator then, decided it was too dangerous to Darkover, and managed to get it shelved. The Terranan are convinced that the products of their material technologies are superior to anything else, and they have stopped looking for other ways to do things. Lew just persuaded a few key people that real telepaths were rare, much too few to be worth the expense, and that those who were gifted in this way were usually emotionally unstable, and ultimately valueless. And it is true, that if you are unfortunate enough to be born on a world where paranormal powers are not cultivated, and you are a telepath, you end up pretty crazy."

"But that's terrible! I mean, if there are other people in the galaxy who have such powers . . . ? How could he?"

"With the greatest difficulty, and a lot of sleepless nights, I assure you. He had a whole planet to think about, Kate-his world."

"I see, I guess. But it seems pretty selfish to me." Katherine decided to reserve judgment on the interesting and complex man she had met the previous night.

"The alternative, to his mind and mine, was to risk an invasion. Can you imagine how tempting it would be to certain people to be able to read the minds of their opponents at will? Oh, the Federation knows that telepathy happens, but they have no idea what a Darkovan with trained laran can do consistently. If the Federation had really guessed the extent of Darkovan talents, they would have come in with force and taken away anyone they felt could be useful to them."

"What did Nana say-government is a beast without a conscience?"

"Did she say that?"

"Yes, but she was talking about the plan to clear-cut one of the old groves, back when I was still a girl. Some Federation corporation wanted the wood, to make into furniture." She chuckled briefly. "Good thing they did not get their wish."

"Why."

"It was a grove of nightwood."

"You mean those gigantic trees we visited. That is fine lumber, and I can see how it might attract some greedy developer. Is there something wrong with nightwood?"

"Oh, no. It is a wonderful wood, very hard and durable. But there is a belief on Renney that a chair made of it will drive you mad if you sit on it. Just a superstition, of course." Well, perhaps, but one I would not risk going against-what a silly woman I am.

"What was it used for, then?" Herm was relieved that the subject had moved away from laran and other things that made Kate uncomfortable, and would have discussed wood or bones or just about anything at that moment, just to keep her happy.

"Spears, back when we still did that sort of thing. A nightwood spear was supposedly able to pierce the heart of a foe all the way through. And shields, too-to protect against the spears. But never chairs, and especially never cradles!"

"You must be sure to tell Marguerida about that. Mikhail says she is a great collector of tales."

Katherine sighed, settled her shoulders firmly, and braced herself. "Herm, does Terese have to be tested? Is it absolutely necessary?"

He kept himself from cringing. Herm should have known that he could not distract Katherine for long. "Yes, it is. But it is not difficult or painful-they do not strap anyone into a machine. And it is more dangerous not to know what her talents might be than otherwise."

"Will they let me be with her?"

"That is a bit unusual, but I think I could arrange it. In fact, it might not be a bad idea to have both you and Amaury checked out, dearest." You might not be as head-blind as you think.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermes! I am no kind of telepath, and I don't want to be one! The idea frightens me!"

"Are you entirely sure?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She glared at him, furious and more than a little scared at the same time.

"Well, it has occurred to me occasionally that some of the portraits you have done have elements in them that . . . are remarkable. Remember how Dame Hester could not get over those flowers you put in the background of her picture."

"I must have seen those in a book and knew they came from her world."

"But how could you have known she was particularly fond of them?"

"Blind luck," Katherine insisted, not sounding very convincing. "They just felt right . . ."

"It might be intuition, my Kate, and it might be something more. Don't you want to find out?"

"No, I don't. I could not bear it if I found out I had been snooping on my sitters, all these years." He was just trying to make her feel less like a cripple, suggesting that she had more than mere intuition. How dare he! The urge to throttle him came and went, and she glared at him accusingly. Kate felt almost ill for a second. What a disgusting notion. And she certainly was not going to be tested by anyone!

Herm recognized the set of Kate's jaw, and knew he would be wasting his time if he tried to suggest more than he had already. Let her think about it for a while. "Very well. I will not force you, but I hope you will change your mind."

"Damn you! I hate it when you do that."

"Do what," he answered, trying to look innocent and, he knew, not succeeding at all.

"Be all reasonable and calm, when in fact you are manipulating me, playing me like your favorite fiddle." She was wary now, but her fear was slipping away slowly.

"I never do that when we are both dressed," he said huskily.

"Oh, no, you don't! No fiddling for you. I won't be pleasured out of . . ."

He began to laugh, and after a second she joined him tentatively. But when he reached for the laces on her tunic, she pushed his hand away roughly. "You are not nearly as irresistible as you imagine! And if you don't behave, I will make you sleep on the couch in the sitting room."

"But, darling, it is so short. Think of my bad back."

"There is nothing in the least wrong with your back!"

"There would be, if I tried to sleep on that dumpy bit of furniture!"

"Hermes-Gabriel Aldaran-you are hopeless!" She grabbed both his ears and tugged-not very gently. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know, since you are in no mood for fiddling. Are you trying to reform me, woman?" He tried to look stern, but it was impossible. She was too lovely, and she still took his breath away, whenever he looked into her eyes.

"No. Yes."

"That is honest, at least. Let us agree that I am beyond reclaimation, that I have the morals of a fell-cat. But remember that I love you, and that I would not have brought you here if I had had any other recourse. You are my life, Katherine."

"Very prettily said, and perhaps even true." She traced her fingers across his mouth, touching him sweetly. "Just promise me that you will always tell me things, that you will never keep me in the dark again. I don't think I could forgive another secret, not now."

"I will tell you my secrets, Kate, but not those of others."

"I'll settle for that. Now, I am starving! Let's order some lunch, and you can tell me about your meeting with Mikhail and Lew Alton. Was there anyone else there?"

"Danilo Hastur and Danilo Syrtis-Ardais were present, as well as Mikhail's paxman Donal. It went well." Herm knew he should tell her that there was a price on his head, as it were, but he could not bring the words to his mouth.

"And?"

"I can't get anything past you, can I?" He had just given his word, and now he knew he was going to break it immediately. Herm could not tell her that Belfontaine wanted him turned over, since there was no chance that Mikhail Hastur would ever agree to such a thing. She did not need to know! It would give her more to worry about, and she deserved better than that, after all she had endured. Later, when the crisis was past, then he would tell her . . .

Katherine was giving him a penetrating look. "Not any longer, Herm. I will not be kept in the dark again, even if matters of policy are not precisely my business. I have myself and the children to think about-and I do not give a fig about the larger picture, not really. I think all of this is just some great game that you males enjoy playing, trying to achieve dominence over your fellows."

"You might be right, though you ladies are not above the game. I've never understood why you girls won't just stand quietly on your pedestals and be admired." He decided that he had better distract her, and quickly!

Katherine narrowed her eyes even further. "Because we don't want complete strangers looking up our petticoats. Stop trying to annoy me and distract me from my purpose. It won't work! 'You girls' indeed!"

"I had not thought of that." He grunted softly, trying to decide how much to tell her. "The situation is complex. There are a great many people on Darkover who have never been enchanted with the Federation, and who will likely try to take this opportunity to persuade us to withdraw from it completely. This is a very conservative culture, which is one reason that there has been no proliferation of Terran technology. And one of the most powerful advocates of isolationism is Mikhail's father, Dom Gabriel Lanart-Alton. You will meet him in the near future. And his wife, Javanne Hastur, who is the older sister of Regis, and, by all accounts, a formidable foe. From what I have heard, she might not be entirely stable. And she has never entirely resigned herself to Mikhail being Regis' successor, for reasons I will not go into. It would be better if you asked Marguerida about that, when you have the opportunity. But Javanne is all for restoring the Elhalyn kingship to power, although it never possessed any real power in the past. Even though Mikhail is her son, she would rather see Danilo Hastur running Darkover, because she imagines he is weak enough to be manipulated by her. From what I learned today, I believe she is mistaken. But the truth is that Dani was never trained to run a planetary government, and never wished to be a ruler."

"I don't understand. Are Dani and Mikhail rivals?"

"They do not see themselves as such, but there are others who would love to churn things up. You see, the Elhalyn kingship has always been a largely ceremonial position, and the Hasturs have always had the real power. There are good historic reasons for this, since the Elhalyn line produces some very unstable people. Dani married Miralys Elhalyn with the intention of breeding some health into the line-which sounds very cold, I suppose. He was in love with her, so it was not terrible and calculated. But he resigned from the heirship of the Hastur Domain in favor of Mikhail, when he could have fought for it, and perhaps even gotten it, because he did not want the task of running the planet. He is a man who understands his own limitations, and I admire him for that."

"So the matter was settled a long time ago?"

"It was, but not to everyone's complete satisfaction-particularly not to Javanne Hastur's. Time has not mellowed her, by all accounts, And she has a few allies on the Comyn Council, so there is likely to be a great deal of shouting and table pounding before the dust settles."

"But that is not what troubles you."

"No, it is not. Darkovans are very pragmatic, and they will do the sensible thing eventually. The real problem remains the Federation. We have never had an intelligence agency here-the entire idea is foreign to us. Instead we have depended on a few well-placed people in the Terran Headquarters, plus Lew Alton, who has been keeping his finger on the pulse of the Federation ever since Captain Rafe Scott resigned. Now those people are going to be 'released from active duty,' which is a pleasant euphemism for being tossed out on their butts, and we won't have anyone who can keep an eye on Lyle Belfontaine and his minions. Without a few people in HQ, we won't know what the Federation is up to, and will be dependent on only the information they permit us to hear. Lew, who is very good at reading between the lines, thinks we will be handed some sort of ultimatum soon. We have managed to keep word of Regis' death from getting out, thus far, but that cannot last, and once word does get out it is likely that the Federation will try some sort of maneuver. So it is in our best interests to settle the matter quickly, and nothing on Darkover ever happens fast. Mikhail cannot make any unilateral decisions."

"Why not, if he is Regis' successor?" Katherine was concentrating very hard on his words, trying to bring her intelligence to bear on the subject, and for a moment, all her fears were pushed into the background.

"He may be the most powerful man on the planet, but he must answer to the Comyn Council, which is divided. We have never had a tyrant on Darkover, and Mik hardly wishes to be the first."

"This doesn't make complete sense to me, Herm. I would think that a planet of telepaths would have no trouble penetrating any intelligence agency in a flash."

"It is not that easy, even setting aside the ethical considerations."

"Why?"

"Because you can't just close your eyes and start plundering people's minds-unless you have the Alton Gift of forced rapport. Proximity is required, as well as some familiarity with the mind you would like to explore. What you get when you don't know the subject is just a lot of noise-their argument with their lover, or how much they liked the most recent encounter, how much they loathe their work, or just that they have a terrible headache from too much drink the night before. Spying on other people is something that Darkoveans with laran learn is unforgivable very early."

"So you have an advantage, but you don't use it! That's a little hard to believe. The temptation must be huge."

"No, not really. For the most part, you don't want to know what is in the minds of others, because much of it is too trivial or distasteful. If someone is mentally shouting, you can't help hearing it, but most of that is emotions and not information. I mean, no one at HQ is going to sit at their desk, reading the most recent orders, broadcasting their thoughts at a roar. Instead they are going to be focused on the impact of those orders on their immediate circumstances-where they will be posted next or whether they can take their Darkovan spouse and children with them."

"I see. It is kind of a relief to know, Herm. It makes me less anxious."

"Good. I realize it will take you some time to believe that no one is going to invade your mind in the hall or at dinner. Very few of us can do that at will. Marguerida has the Alton Gift, and so does her father and her son Domenic, but none of them would ever violate you."

She nodded, as if reassured. "I like Nico, but he certainly is a serious young fellow. And Marguerida seems very nice, the little I have seen of her."

"She is very busy just now arranging for the funeral rites, but she lived in the Federation for twenty years before she returned to Darkover, so she will probably find interests in common with you. She was at University, a Fellow in Musicology, when she came here, and I understand that she has continued to transmit ethnographic papers for years now. And she can hardly wait to grill you about Amedi Korniel just as soon as she has a free moment."

"I think Mikhail said something about that, last night at dinner. That, at least, is something I feel I can handle. I know a number of really scandalous tales about him-he was a great musician, but he was not really a very nice person." Realizing, then, that there were still things of which she was unaware, she brought the discussion back to the original topic. "Is there more, Herm? I have the feeling there is something else bothering you."

"Yes, dearest. How did you guess?"

"You always twist your fingers into knots when you are uneasy."

Herm looked down at his hands and discovered that they were indeed interlaced. How had he never noticed that before? "As I said, we don't have a real intelligence force of our own, but we know the Federation does. I don't mean those at HQ. Lew suspects that someone is running a covert operation, but he has no idea who or how. We are not even certain it is a Federation agency."

"What else could it be?"

Herm chuckled. "If I had not spent the last two decades in the Federation I could not even attempt to answer that. The Liberal Party as well as the Expansionists, the New Republicans, the Monarchists, and just about every other political power have spies of various sorts, trying to ferret out the secrets of the others, in order to expose them. How do you think that banking scandal on Coronis Nine got into the media? It was not some eager newshound that sniffed it out, but an agent of New Revelationists who leaked the thing. They love to discredit the Expansionists-it is practically their only form of sport." They both chuckled, since the New Revelationists were famed for their fundamentalism and their disapproval of play of any sort. "Not that the rest of us did not enjoy it, of course. So, whatever is afoot on Darkover could be anything from Federation to a group I never heard of. Unlikely, in truth, because none of the various groups is likely to be interested in Darkover. Yet it is the not knowing that is disturbing."

"But why would anyone want to do that? I mean, Darkover is not a very important planet, Herm. Wouldn't spies be more interested in Aldebaran Five or Wolf? Places with a lot of industry or important resources?"

"Darkover is a very mysterious place, Kate. Our very policy of information limitation, which Lew put into place and I have continued, was bound to provoke some curiosity somewhere. We just did not see the problem at first. You know-you do something to solve a situation, and then, ten or twenty years down the line, it starts to have consequences you never anticipated. We don't know anything for certain, but Lew said there have been some disturbances recently that made him suspicious. He hoped I could confirm these, but I had to tell him I don't know of any specific group that is casting its eye on Darkover. So, we don't actually know we were being spied on."

"But you think you might be."

"Yes, that was our tentative conclusion, for all the good it did us," he agreed reluctantly. "Let's eat. All of this will keep." He felt a profound sense of guilt, mingled with relief and weariness. He had kept his Kate from finding out he might be arrested, but he did not feel happy about his deception. And he knew that when he did finally tell her, there would be hell to pay.

For a brief moment, Herm wished he had never come back to Darkover at all. He felt a kind of dreadful restlessness seize him, a desire to be anywhere in the galaxy except where he was. Kate was upset. He hated that, and he knew it was not going to go away just because it made him squirm. It was as he had said-he had solved one problem, the security of his small family-without imagining clearly the consequences that would follow. And it had not taken years, but only days, to discover that his solution had created fresh trouble.

True, he felt himself born to discord, to deal with it as a cunning fellow should. But it was not supposed to affect those he held dearest in the cosmos-his wife and children. How could he have been so short-sighted not to see this coming. And how was he going to resolve it? His belly grumbled then, and Herm gave up in exhaustion. He had had no choice but to do what he had done. He was not going to fix things soon, or on an empty stomach-so he might as well eat. That, at least, was something he could do without hurting anyone.