The Shadow Matrix (87 page)

Javanne flinched, and her face looked ancient. Then she stiffened, and her skin

reddened as her eyes narrowed. Emotions seemed to play across her body, frustration

and anger and a deep sorrow that moved Mikhail. He could not help feeling sorry for

her, even though he knew that she would become even angrier if he offered her his

pity. She was completely lost in her own feelings, and instead of using the intelligence

he knew she possessed, she could* only rage helplessly.

Marguerida, who had been playing with her bracelet, turning the cat-shape around on

her wrist, looked up. "You are acting like a spoiled child, Aunt Javanne, and it does not

suit you. Yes, I know I should not say that. But ever since Midsummer you have been

scheming and plotting. Is that why you sent Mikhail off to Halyn House, Regis? To get

him out of Javanne's sight?"

"You have me there, Marguerida. That was indeed part of the reason. Danilo tried to

persuade me not to, but I did not listen. I needed time to try to reclaim the Aldarans,

and to get the Comyn Council functioning again. I was wrong, and Danilo was right."

He glanced at his paxman, and was answered by a slight smile and a nod of

acknowledgment. "Of course, I had no idea you two were going to dash- off into the

past and come back with something that would make matters worse."

"How worse, Uncle?"

"I can hardly deny you my throne, not while you are wearing that. And that leaves my

own son in a bitter position." He looked at Linnea. "The balance of power which I

have struggled to preserve is undone. Even if you had not received that matrix, your

marriage to Marguerida would still have made things difficult—but the two together is

nearly impossible to resolve without someone being very disappointed."

Danilo Syrtis-Ardais cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. His pale eyes

were gleaming with something

like mischief, and Mikhail wondered what the joke was. From Regis' expression, he

was just as puzzled as Mikhail.

Having gotten everyone's attention, Danilo began to speak. "Has everyone had their fill

of recriminations and complaints? Are we agreed that the most immediate problem is

the succession of both of the Hastur and the Elhalyn Domains? Or are we going to

fight among ourselves until the Terranan
realize
our instability? They have been

waiting for years for the opportunity to seize our planet, you know."

"Fine words, but how do you propose to manage things—which it is not your place to

do in any case!" Ja-vanne snarled at him, looking for some target for her ire.

"I do not intend to manage anything but myself," Danilo .answered dryly, "a course I

recommend to others. I am no kingmaker, nor have I any ambitions to become one.

But, here are the facts, unpleasant as they might be. Mikhail is an adult, trained to

govern, and he now is the possessor of a tool which gives him enormous power. He is

also Regis' first heir."

"But . . ." Javanne began.

Danilo lifted his hand, a graceful gesture that did not conceal the strength in it. "Please,

allow me to finish, Lady Javanne. We have a problem—that we have two heirs to one

position. And, my dear Javanne, you cannot have it both ways. You cannot insist that

Regis abide by his oath while at the same time resisting Mikhail's legitimate claims.

The succession is a family problem, but it is also a problem for the world we live on.

And we must set aside our prejudices and look at it in that way."

"And just what do you propose, then?" Lew Alton asked the question that was in

everyone's mind, and Mikhail looked at him gratefully.

"In truth, this is not my proposal, but that of another." Danilo gave a mild chuckle, and

it was quite clear that he was enjoying himself enormously. He strode across the room,

and opened the door.

Dani Hastur, his face white with tension, stepped into the room, tugging down the hem

of his tunic. There were beads of sweat on his brow, and his eyes squinted with

anxiety. Still, he looked resolute, the small chin he had inherited from his mother set as

firmly as was possible.

He paused, bowed to his father, then to the rest of the amazed assembly.

"Go ahead Dani. Tell them your idea," Danilo's voice was brimming with suppressed

laughter but also pride.

"Yes, sir." He stood there, silent and uncomfortable, swallowing hard. At last he burst

out. "Father—I do not want to be the next Hastur!"

"What!" Regis half rose in his chair, then sank back, stunned.

"I don't want to succeed you. I could never do the job! Even if cousin Mikhail did not

exist, I could not take on the responsibility."

"But, son—you are young and ..."

"No! I have lived in dread for years that you might die and I would end up trying to

step into your shoes. I was glad that you never made me your heir! I am unsuited, by

my own character, to become the Hastur of Hastur."

"Dani," Lady Linnea began gently, "come and sit down beside me. This is very brave

of you, but you are too young to realize what you are saying!"

"Too young to know myself, you mean." The misery in his voice was unmistakable,

and Mikhail felt his heart sink. Dani slipped into a chair. "But I do know who I am. I

have no skill for rulership, and Mikhail does. Oh, you have done your best to train me,

Father, but it is like teaching a horse to dance the
pafan.
The will might be there, but

the ability is lacking."

This made everyone except Javanne laugh, in spite of the tension in the room. The

paxman handed Danilo Hastur a glass of wine, hiding a smile and trying to appear

grave. The young man took a gulp, and his face reddened as some spilled down the

sides of his mouth.

- "Go ahead, Dani. Tell them what you came to me about yesterday morning." Danilo

Ardais' voice was soft and calm, and his young namesake seemed to relax as the

paxman spoke.

"In terms of blood," Dani started haltingly, "Mikhail and I are equal in our claims to

the Elhalyn Domain. Each of us has Alanna Elhalyn for a grandmother, as do all of

Aunt Javanne's children. What I think would be good would be that I ..." His young

voice faltered, and his blue eyes shifted from side to side, like a trapped thing.

"What, son?" Regis spoke very gently, as if he was aware that he must not make his

son any more frightened than he was already.

Dani gave his father a quick look, then stared straight ahead, so that his eyes met

Mikhail's. "This is my idea." He drew a shaking breath. "I propose I should marry

Miralys Elhalyn as soon as she is of age, and be the Elhalyn king, and that our* sons

will follow me." When no one spoke, all the color drained out of his face, and he

looked around frantically. He did not appear to realize that everyone except Danilo

Ardais was too stunned to react. After several seconds, he plunged ahead. "I am, as far

as I know, sane and hearty—if somewhat more interested in verse than .governance.

My friend Emun is dead, and his brothers can never take the throne. And Mira loves

me—don't tell me we are too young to know our minds! We suit one another. You,

Aunt Javanne, were not much older than she is when you married
Dom
Gabriel!"

"I have no objections to you marrying Miralys," Javanne answered? slowly, her mind

clearly working furiously. "But I do not think you realize what you are giving up."

Mikhail sensed that she was considering the possibilities of changing her direction, of

insisting that young Dani be made Regis' successor, with the idea of manipulating the

young man to her own ends. It was an idea that had not occurred to him before, nor, he

suspected, to his formidable mother.

"But I do! I am giving up a lot of headaches and heartaches that I never wanted to

begin with! Father is a prisoner here. He has not been out of Thendara in years, and he

almost never leaves Comyn Castle. He rarely has a moment to think of anything but

Darkover. Who would want that?"

"Out of the mouths of babes," Lew muttered. He noticed Javanne glaring at him, and

returned the look. "This is an elegant solution, Regis—if somewhat unorthodox. Dani's

vigor will restore the Elhalyn line, and . .-."

"And your mad Terranan daughter will be able to do just as she likes," snarled Javanne.

"I would never do anything that would endanger Darkover, Aunt." Mikhail could sense

that his wife was holding her frayed temper in with an effort, trying to remain calm in

spite of considerable provocation.

"Oh, I am sure you believe that. But you are not to be trusted, and neither is my son!

You have proved that by running off into the night and. ..."

"Mother, you are obsessed. You have lost all perspective." Mikhail felt his face flame.

"Regis is hardly in his dotage!"

"Why, thank you, Mikhail,"' his uncle answered wryly. "I was hoping someone would

notice that. And, of course, that is not the real problem, is it?"

"I don't understand," Mikhail answered.

"The question is really how I am going to continue to rule Darkover while you are the

most powerful man on the planet?" He shook his head, making his white hair slip

down onto his forehead, and looked both amused and weary. "You don't see it, do you,

Mikhail? No, you would not. Now you are a threat to me, as you were not before. And

I must wonder if you will have the patience to wait for me to die naturally."

"Uncle!" Mikhail was stunned and hurt. It was all he could do to keep from shouting in

rage at being misjudged like this. How could anyone doubt his loyalty? He forced his

feelings aside with an effort. "The Hasturs are a long-lived family, and I fully expect

you to go on for another half century."

"And just what do you plan to do in the meanwhile?" Regis' eyes bored into him.

"Raise my son, and any other children that we have. Learn and study. This gift of

Varzil's will take me decades to understand." As he spoke the words, Mikhail realized

they were true. He had a task that was important, to understand the powers that had

been thrust on him so suddenly, and it occurred to him that with what he had learned

already, he could change the face of matrix science. He almost laughed. Now that he

could become the ruler he had imagined when he was a young man, he no longer

needed or wanted the job. Worse, it was unlikely that he would be able to convince

anyone that he meant what he was saying.

"You really believe what you are saying, don't you? What if I suggested you retire to

some remote place—Dalereuth, perhaps. It is near the sea, and Marguerida might like

that." There was a sly look on Regis' face now, and

Mikhail had a fresh understanding of how his uncle had managed Darkover for the past

two decades.

At the same time, he quietly simmered with resentment. Two could play at this game!

"Or I could leave Darkover completely. I have always wanted to travel, and

Marguerida would just love to go back to University and complete some of her work.

Perhaps I might take Herm Aldaran's vacant place in the lower house of Federation

senate."

The expression on his uncle's face was shocked and dismayed, as if he had not,

anticipated this possibility. Then Mikhail realized that Regis was improvising again,

and had no serious intention of exiling them to Dalereuth or anywhere else. He was

testing Mikhail, and if he did not like it, at least he could understand the logic of it.

And, he knew instantly, he would never be allowed to leave Dark-over while he wore

Varzil's ring.

Regis stared at his nephew, his face a study in conflicting emotions. Mikhail glared

back and waited until Regis dropped his eyes, looking a little uncomfortable.

Regis and Danilo Syrtis-Ardais exchanged a look and an unspoken communication.

The silence in the room was almost unbearable, and the rising of the winds outside the

great castle seemed to reflect the strained emotions within. At last he turned away from

Danilo, and looked around the room. His eyes came to rest on Dani's anxious face.

"My son's idea—which has taken me completely by surprise—is not without merit.

Not to mention a generosity of spirit which I wish were more general, especially in this

room!"

Dani blushed at this praise, and Mikhail smiled at his young cousin. Beside him,

Marguerida stirred again, and sat up a little straighter in her chair. Her face was calm,

queenly and certain, and Mikhail suspected that she had just had another of her

precognitive flashes. He laced his fingers into hers, so the metal of their bracelets

touched and rang, a sweet sound in the room.

"You trained Mikhail to succeed you, Regis," Marguerida began. "But now you are

beginning to fear him. That is natural, I suppose. But if you let that fear rule you, then

the thing you fear will almost destroy all that you have struggled to create. You have a

wonderful opportunity to

continue your work, with Mikhail supporting you! The question is, are you going to

take it, or refuse it?"

"You see! Marguerida is already intriguing to bring my son into power!" Javanne

glared at Lew Alton. "She is so much your child, storm crow!"