Exile's Song (73 page)

“I have no desire to reclaim the Alton Domain. I have a wife who is very ill, and all I want is to get her well, not sit in Council meetings until my bottom gets numb. I had enough of that while I served in the Senate to last several lifetimes!” Lew’s single hand roamed restlessly across the table top, back and forth, as if he was trying to put his finger on something which remained elusive.

“And Marguerida’s claim?”

“She is my daughter, my only living child. And since I did not designate Gabriel as my heir before I departed, my sense is that she remains the most legitimate person to hold the Domain.”

“She does not follow our ways!” Gabriel roared. “She must be made to resign the Domain into my hands, or the hands of my sons! I will not permit anything else!”

Margaret looked at her Aunt Javanne, and was met with a hard-eyed glare. It must have been hard for her, all these years, married to Gabriel, trying to be a proper Darkovan woman, when she clearly had drive and ambition. Javanne must have hated being able only to manipulate her husband, instead of sitting in a place of power.

And Mikhail was too much like Javanne, Margaret guessed. He could not be manipulated, controlled, or bullied either.

She gave Mikhail a glance, and he smiled at her, as if he knew her thoughts despite the dampers in the chamber. Suddenly the matter of the Alton Domain seemed irrelevant. Uncle Gabriel was a good man, in his stubborn, slow way, and he had kept her lands well. On the other hand, she realized she had a responsibility, a duty to fulfill. Her father had never asked anything of her, not really, but he clearly wanted her to inherit his estates, and she knew she would not fail him. She was just afraid that the cost was going to be one she did not wish to pay.
Funny,
she thought.
I never believed there would be any man who would be a light in my life, and now there is, and he cannot have me, nor I him. Life is not fair!

“The crux of the matter is that the people will have—demand to have—a Comyn Council again. So the Heir-ships must be settled, clearly defined, or else we will spend all our energy squabbling and have none left for our real business—which is to serve the people of Darkover as well as we are able. I may be Regent, but I know that I am a servant of the people I rule, and I never want to forget that!” Regis’ voice rang out against the great windows, echoing, and bringing everyone back to attention.

There was a rather shocked silence at this statement, and
Dom
Gabriel looked as if he had had the wind knocked out of him. Javanne, on the other hand, looked very thoughtful, and Margaret did not doubt that she was looking for ways to turn this new political situation to her advantage.

“Serve the people?” Gabriel sounded as if he suspected a trap in that.

Regis ignored his brother-in-law. “First among the Domains comes the Elhalyn of Hastur, but those among them are too young to govern wisely and have had no experience with ruling, they will need guidance. Danilo—my son by Linnea—will be heir to Hastur of Hastur, but again he is too young to have a seat at Council.” He paused, and Margaret saw something in his face, a shadow of doubt or worry. She remembered the tense young man who had greeted them on their return to Thendara. She noticed that Regis had very carefully not declared his eldest son the heir, but put it off to some vague future, and she wondered if there was something amiss with Danilo Hastur. “Mikhail is my next heir, after Danilo, and I am minded to appoint him to the Regency of the Elhalyn Domain. Your good sense and Terran education will stand you in good stead for this task, Mikhail, until we can be sure that the eldest living son of Derik’s sister is sound of mind. We cannot risk another Derik. In another year he will be of an age to rule, but there will be no talk of crowning for some time to come.”

Javanne stared at her brother, and Margaret did not blame her. It sounded as if he were perfectly prepared to abdicate his position in favor of a young man who had never been trained to rule. It was a bold move, and a dangerous one, to surrender his power so quickly.

Mikhail looked as if he had been struck with an ax. “Lord of Light,” he whispered. “Me, a Regent!”

Regis heard him and gave a slight smile. “It is completely appropriate. Your grandmother was Alanna Elhalyn.”

“I never thought of that,” Mikhail muttered.

“Why Mikhail and not Gabriel or Rafael?” asked Javanne, her cheeks full of color. She glared at her brother, then at her son, as if they were some sort of monsters.

“Mikhail has been trained to rule, and he can give the correct guidance. Gabe and Rafael are good men, sister, but they are not suited to the task I have in mind.”

Mikhail looked very distressed, almost as upset as his mother. “I am sworn to Hastur, Regis. If I take on the Elhalyn Domain, it alters everything. My loyalties will have to be to them, and . . .” He tried to shrug it off. “Well, Priscilla’s son Alan will be old enough to be crowned soon. But, frankly, he is a little odd. It is the second son, Vincent, who . . .” Like a sleepwalker Mikhail moved from his place behind Dyan’s chair. He went to a chair almost opposite Regis, a chair marked with the silver tree of Hastur but with a crown above it, and sat down. “Now that I no longer want the crown that Regis swore to me, I have the burden of a crown I never sought,” he whispered.

This turn of events was puzzling to Margaret. She was not sure why Regis was so bent on restoring the traditional kings of Darkover—the little she had heard made her think they were a strange family—nor why he should appoint Mikhail, except that his grandmother had been an Elhalyn. By that logic, Javanne would be just as good a candidate for the role of regent, and she would love it! Maybe there was some custom that prevented a woman from being regent.

Gabriel growled. “That is ridiculous. Mikhail will fill Alan’s head with a lot of Terranan nonsense, if he isn’t already ruined.”

Lew stirred. “Gabriel, you are still living in the past. We have to try to adapt, both of us. The old Darkover that we grew up in is gone. Forever, I suspect. Even restoring the Elhalyn line to the throne will not bring it back. Regis has made several remarkable proposals, and I think we need time to digest them. May I suggest we adjourn, and let our tempers cool.”

“You can suggest anything you like—but I will oppose all of these matters—Aldarans in the Comyn Council and Mikhail sitting for Elhalyn! I will take it to the Cortes, and they will see the . . .”

“I would not recommend you oppose me,
Dom
Gabriel,” Regis said formally. He looked at Margaret. “I have the best interests of Darkover in mind, and opposition will only lay us open to the schemes of our enemies. And, if you do, then I will remove you from the Council.”

There was no mistaking his tone. A silence settled across the room, while everyone digested this threat. Margaret looked from face to face, trying to judge the mood. But most of all, her eyes were drawn to Mikhail.
Well,
she thought,
at least he won’t be leaving Darkover.

G
abriel stormed out of the Crystal Chamber, nearly knocking over one of the Guardsmen as he went to the door. Javanne started to follow him, but her brother grasped her wrist in a hard grip. “We must talk, sister,” he said, his face unsmiling. “We must talk about loyalty.”

Javanne looked surprised now, as if Regis were a complete stranger. “Loyalty?”

“Precisely. Come along.” Regis rose, slipped his arm into Javanne’s, and started toward the door. Danilo had to step back quickly to avoid being hit with the chair, but he fell in smoothly behind Regis. Then Lady Linnea stood up slowly, her face grave, and the four of them left the chamber.

“Well,” Francisco Ridenow announced, “this was not quite what I expected when Regis asked me to come here. I thought it was going to be dull.” He chuckled and turned to Lew. “Is it always this heated?”

Lew shook his head. “Believe me, this was rather tame compared to a few previous occasions!”

“I see.” He gazed at Mikhail, whose head was in his hands, then at Lady Marilla and Dyan Ardaisi. “It has given me quite an appetite, you know. As well as a great deal to think about. Aldarans in the Crystal Chamber? Who would have believed that?”

“I would,” Dyan Ardais said suddenly.

“Really?”

“I know what they did, the deals they made with the Terranan, in the past, but I have always thought that it was a bad idea to let them get up to new mischief behind our backs.”

“There is a certain wisdom in that,” Francisco agreed.

He studied Dyan and Lady Marilla, then looked at Mikhail again. “But I am too hungry to think properly. Nothing more is going to be settled today, is it? Then I say we should go find some food, and perhaps some wine as well. Perhaps a great deal of wine.”

Despite the air of tension and uncertainty in the room, everyone laughed. Dyan helped his mother to her feet, and Francisco rose. They walked to the door, paused to see if the last three occupants would follow them, then left.

“He seems a cheerful sort,” Margaret told her father. “Can we get out of here—this room makes my skin crawl. Come on, Mikhail—don’t just sit there like the end of the world has come.” She spoke with more heartiness than she felt, for she could not imagine why he was so upset. When she had first met him, he had expressed his frustration at being only a paxman, when he had been trained to be a king. Now he would be regent for this Alan Elhalyn, or one of his younger brothers, and he didn’t appear pleased at all.

Mikhail looked up, and seemed to compose himself a little. “You are right. The end of the world has not come—it has only been turned upside down! Regis never gave me a hint of his plans! It changes everything, and I am not quite sure . . . oh, to hell with it. Mother will never let him . . .”

Lew looked at Mikhail. “I think that we should leave now.” He glanced toward the two Guardsmen still standing near the door, trying to look as if they had not been listening, as if what had been said would not be the talk of the barracks in a few hours. “There is a little terrace that I rather liked when I was younger. Let’s go sit and enjoy the sun and clear our minds.”

“Very well.” Mikhail stood, then looked at the carving on the back of his chair for a long moment. He shook his head. “My father will never forgive me for this, never.”

“Why?” Margaret walked over to her cousin. “I don’t see that this should be anything for him to be angry about, except that he seems to enjoy being upset about anything he didn’t think of! Will one of you please explain to me why this decision is so dreadful. You said you wanted something more meaningful than being a paxman, Mik—and this sounds like an important thing your uncle has asked you to do.”

They left the Crystal Chamber and Lew led them down the corridor and out onto a small terrace that overlooked the city of Thendara, glowing ruddily in the early afternoon sun. Margaret stretched her arms over her head and smelled the clear air, glad to be out of doors.

“Regis has just reshaped things in a way I never anticipated, nor Mikhail either, and we are both rather surprised.” Lew spoke quietly. “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Who,” Margaret asked.

“Thendara. I have seen a great many cities,
chiya,
but the view over Thendara remains my favorite. I never thought I would stand here again and look across it.”

Mikhail was leaning against the balistrade, and some of the tension that had gripped him left his shoulders. He still didn’t look happy, but he seemed to Margaret to be less distressed, and that was enough for the moment. “I do not want to be a crown on a stick, hung in the marketplace for men to bow down to.”

“And just what does that mean,” Margaret asked him.

“Regis once told me that if I wished to live my own life, I should have arranged to be born to other parents.” He laughed a little at this ironic jest. “I didn’t understand him at the time. No one chooses his own life, really. Do they, Uncle Lew?”

“Well, no. I did not choose to be the many things I have become—or at least it has always seemed to me that I was forced into situations that were not precisely what I would have chosen. That, I believe, is hindsight. When I did the things I did, it certainly seemed right at the time. But, Mikhail, I do know how you feel right now.”

“Well, I don’t,” Margaret snapped, her patience worn thin.

Lew smiled at her. “For generations the Elhalyn have been our kings, but the power behind the throne has always been a Hastur. What Regis has done, by nominating Mikhail to the Regency of Elhalyn, is to make him a kingmaker. What it means, I believe, is that while young Danilo will be Regis’ heir, the real power will be in Mikhail’s hands. He does not know if they are capable hands, but he believes that they are. It is a bold move, one that I confess I admire.”

Mikhail gave a sharp, barking laugh. “That is easy for you to say—your entire life has not just been disarranged!” Mikhail turned and looked at her. “My life is no longer my own. So I cannot say to you what I should have said sooner—that I wish we could have wed. Then you could have been a queen, though to me you are already more than that.”