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Strange heretical thoughts to be thinking in the very center of the ancient science. When their forefathersforbade that very thing, they must have had their reasons!

Margwenn Elhalyn was a slim fair-haired woman of unguessable age, though Damon thought she was alittle older than he was himself. She had the cold withdrawnness, the almost hieratic decorum, of all Keepers. “The Mother Ashara cannot see you, her mind sojourns elsewhere much of the time in thesedays. How may I serve you, Damon?”

Damon hesitated, unwilling to explain his errand and charge Dezi, without proof, of what he suspected. Margwenn had not attended the Council, though she had every right to do so. Many technicians were notinterested in politics. Damon had once felt that way himself, that his work was above such baseconsiderations. Now he was not so sure.

Finally he said, “Some confusion has arisen about the whereabouts of certain matrices in the hands of the Alton clan, legitimately issued, but their fate uncertain. Are you familiar with Dezi Leynier, who wasadmitted to Arilinn for something under a year, some time ago?”

“Dezi?” she said without interest. “Some bastard of Lord Alton’s, wasn’t he? Yes, I remember. He was dismissed because he could not keep discipline, I heard.” She went to the monitor screen, standing motionless before the glassy surface. After a little time lights began to wink, deep inside it, and Damon, watching her face without attempting to follow her in thought, knew she was linked into the relay to Arilinn. Finally she said, “Evidently he has given up his matrix. It is in the hands of a Keeper, not inactivated, but at a very low level.”

In the hands of a Keeper
. Damon, who had himself lowered its level and put it into a locked and sealedbox, metal-bound and tamperproof, understood that perfectly well.

Hands of a Keeper
. But any competent technician could do a Keeper’s work. Why should it besurrounded with taboo, ritual, superstitious reverence? Concealing his thoughts from Margwenn, he said, “Now can you check what has become of the matrix of Domenic Lanart?”

“I will try,” she said, “but I thought he was dead. His matrix would have died with him, probably.”

“I had thought so too,” Damon said, “but it was not found on his body. Is it possible that it is also in the

hands of a Keeper?”

Margwenn shrugged. “That seems unlikely, although I suppose, knowing Domenic unlikely to use
 
laran
 
,she might have reclaimed it and modified it to another’s use, or to her own. Although most Keepersprefer to begin with a blank crystal. Where was he tested? Not at Arilinn, surely.”

“Neskaya, I think.”

Margwenn raised her eyebrows as she went to the screen. It took no telepathic subtlety to follow herthought:
 
At Neskaya they are likely to do anything
 
. At last Margwenn turned and said, “Your guess isright, it is in the hands of a Keeper, though it is not in Neskaya. It must have been modified and given toanother. It did not die with Domenic, but is fully operative.”

And there it was, Damon thought, his heart sinking. A small thing for positive proof of a cold-blooded,fiendish murder.

Not premeditated. There was that small comfort. No one alive could have foreseen that Cathal would

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strike Domenic unconscious as they practiced. But a sudden temptation… and Domenic’s matrix survived him, to point unerringly to the one person who could have taken it from his body without himself being killed by it.

Gods above, what a waste! Had
 
Dom
 
Esteban been able to overcome his pride, admit to the somewhatshameful circumstances of Dezi’s begetting, had he been willing to acknowledge this gifted youngster, Dezi would never have come to this.

Damon thought, with wrenching empathy that the temptation must have been sudden, and irresistible. For a trained telepath being without a matrix was like being deaf, blind, mutilated, and the sight of theunconscious Domenic had spurred him on to murder. Murder of the one brother who had championedhis right to be called brother, who had been his patron and friend.

“Damon, what ails you?” Margwenn was staring at him in amazement. “Are you ill, kinsman?”

He made some civil excuse, thanked her for her help, and went away. She would know soon enough. Zandru’s hells, there would be no way to hide this! All the Comyn would soon know, and everyone in Thendara! What scandal for the Altons!

Back in their rooms, his drawn face told Ellemir the truth at once. “It’s true, then. Merciful Avarra, whatwill this do to our father? He loved Dezi. Domenic loved him too.”

“I wish I could spare him the knowledge,” Damon said wretchedly. “You know why I cannot, Elli.”

Callista said, “When Father knows the truth, there will be another murder, that is sure!”

“He loves the boy, he spared him before,” Andrew protested. Callista pressed her lips tightly together.

“True. But when I was a little girl Father had a favorite hound. He had reared it by hand from a puppy and it slept on his bed at night, and lay at his feet in the Great Hall. When it grew to be an old dog, however, it became vicious. It took to killing animals in the yards, and once it bit Dorian and drew blood. The
 
coridom
 
said it must be destroyed, but he knew how Father loved the old dog, and offered to have it quietly made away with. But Father said, ‘No, this is my affair.’ He went out into the stables, called the brute to him, and when it came he broke its neck with his own hands.” She was silent, thinking of how her Father had cried afterward, the only time she ever saw him weep, except when Coryn died.

But he did not ever shrink from doing what he must.

Damon knew she was right. He might have preferred to spare his father-in-law, but Esteban Lanart was Lord Alton, with wardship, even to life and death, over every man, woman, and child in the Alton Domains. He had never dealt out justice unfairly, but he had never failed to deal it out.

“Come,” he said to Andrew, “we must lay it before him.” But when Callista rose to follow them, he

shook his head.

“
 
Breda
, this is an affair for men.”

She turned pale with anger. “You dare speak so to me, Damon? Domenic was my brother, so is Dezi. Iam an Alton!”

“And I,” said Ellemir, “and my child is next heir after Valdir!”

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As they turned to the door, Damon found a snatch of song running in his head, incongruous, with asweet, mournful memory. After a moment he identified it as the song Callista had begun to sing, and hadbeen rebuked:

How came this blood on your right hand,

Brother, tell me, tell me…

It is the blood of my own brothers twain

Who sat at the drink with me.

Ellemir had spoken more truly than she knew: It was ill-luck for a sister to sing that song in a brother’shearing. But, looking at the women, Damon thought that like the sister in the old ballad, who hadcondemned the brotherslayer to outlawry, they would not shrink from the sentence.

It was only a few steps into another part of the suite, but to Damon it seemed a long journey, across agulf of misery, before they stood before
Dom
 
Esteban, who looked at them in bewilderment.

“What means this? Why are you all so solemn? Callista, what is wrong with you,
 
chiya
 
? Elli, have you

been crying?”

“Father.” said Callista, white as death, “where is Valdir? And is Dezi near?”

“They are together, I hope. I know you have a grudge against him, Damon,” he said, “but after all, the lad has right on his side. I should have done years ago what I propose to do now. He is not old enough to be regent of the Domain, of course, or Valdir’s guardian, the idea is preposterous, but once acknowledged he will see reason. And then he will be such a brother to Valdir as he was to my poor Domenic.”

“Father,” Ellemir said in a low voice, “that is what we fear.”

He turned to her in anger. “I thought you, at least, would show a sister’s forebearance, Ellemir!” Then hemet the eyes of Damon and Andrew, fixed steadily on him. He looked from one to the other and backagain, in growing distress and annoyance.

“How dare you!” Then, impatiently, he reached out for contact, read directly from them what they knew. Damon felt the knowledge sink into the old man’s mind in one great surge of pain. It was like death, a blinding moment of physical agony. He felt the old man’s last thought:
 
My heart, my heart is surely breaking. I thought that was only an idle word, but I feel it there
 
, before he slipped into merciful unconsciousness. Andrew, moving swiftly, caught the limp body in his arms as he pitched out of his wheeled chair.

Too shocked to think clearly, he laid him on his bed. Damon was still paralyzed with the backlash of the

Alton lord’s pain.

“I think he’s dead,” Andrew said, shocked, but Callista came and felt his pulse, laid her ear briefly against his chest. “No, the heart still beats. Quickly, Ellemir! Run and fetch Ferrika, she is nearest, but one of you men must go down to the Guard Hall and search for Master Nicol.”

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She waited beside her father, remembering that Ferrika had warned her about his weakening heart.

When the woman came, she confirmed Callista’s fear.

“Something has gone wrong in the heart, Callista.” In her sympathy she forgot the formal “my lady,” remembering that they had played together as children. “He has had too many shocks to endure.” She brought stimulant drugs and when Master Nicol came, between them they managed to get a dose into him.

“It’s touch and go,” the hospital officer warned. “He might die at any moment, or linger like this till Midsummer. Has he had a shock? With respect, Lord Damon, he should have been guarded from the slightest stress or bad news.”

Damon felt like demanding how do you guarded a telepath against evil news. But Master Nicol wasdoing his best, and he would have had no more answer than Damon himself.

“We will do what we can, Lord Damon, but for now… it is fortunate he had already chosen you

regent.”

It was like a flood of ice water. He was regent of Alton, with wardship and sovereignty over the

Domain, till Valdir was declared a man.

Regent. With power of life and death.

No, he thought, flinching with revulsion. It was too much. He did not want it.

But looking down at the stricken old man, he knew that duty lay on him. Confronted with proof of Dezi’s treachery, the Alton lord would have acted unflinchingly to protect the children, young boy andunborn babe, who were the next heirs to Alton. As Damon must act…

When Dezi came back with Valdir, he found them all waiting for him.

“Valdir,” said Ellemir gently, “our father lies very ill. Go and find Ferrika and ask news of him.” To their

great relief, the child ran off at once, and Dezi stood waiting, defiant.

“So now you have your will, Damon. You are regent of Alton. Or are you? I wonder.”

Damon found his voice. “I am warned, Dezi. You cannot serve me as you served Domenic. As regent of

Alton I demand that you give up to me the matrix you stole from Domenic’s body.”

He saw comprehension sweep over Dezi’s face. Then, to Damon’s horror, he laughed. Damon thoughthe had never heard a sound so shocking as that laughter.

“Come and take it, you Ridenow half-man,” he taunted. “You will not find it so easy this time! You could not take me that way now, even with your Nest about you!” Damon flinched at the ancient obscenity, for the women’s sake. “Come, I called you challenge in Council, let us have it here and now! Which of us is to be regent of Alton? Have you that much strength? Half monk, half eunuch, they call you!”

Damon knew he had picked up the taunt from Lorenz, or was it from Damon himself? He found hisvoice. “If you kill me, you prove yourself even less fit to be regent. It is not strength alone, but right andresponsibility.”

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“Oh, have done with that cant!” Dezi scoffed. “Such
 
responsibility
 
, I suppose, as my loving father took

for me?”

Damon wanted to say that the
 
dom
 
had truly loved Dezi enough for his treachery almost to kill him too. But he wasted no words, grasping his own matrix, focusing, striking to alter the resonances of the one Dezi wore. Had stolen.

Dezi felt the touch, struck out a blinding mental blow. Damon went physically to his knees before theimpact. Dezi had the Alton gift, the anger which could kill. Fighting panic, he realized that Dezi hadgrown, was stronger. Like a wolf with a taste for man’s flesh, he had to be destroyed at once, lest thisravening beast get among the Comyn…

The room began to cloud, thicken with swirling lines of force between them. He felt himself falter, felt Andrew’s strength behind him, even as Andrew was physically holding him upright. Dezi glowed withinthe fog. He hurled lightnings at the men. Damon felt the ground thinning beneath his feet, felt himselfbeaten down toward the floor.