Heritage and Exile

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

  And we are suffering still from that great inbreeding and genetic meddling. Look at Derik. And many of the Ardais are unstable; Dyan’s father was mad for decades before his death, and there are those in Council who think Dyan himself is none too sane.

  Javanne Lanart-Hastur, with her husband, Gabriel, came in through the rear doors of the Hastur enclosure. She embraced Regis, in a flurry of scent, curls, ruffles, and took her seat. Gabriel—tall burly, wearing the uniform of the Castle Guard as Commander—nodded good-naturedly to Regis as he took his place. Their second son, Rafael, a scrawny, dark-haired youngster of thirteen, who reminded Regis of his own mirrored face at that age, bowed to Regis and sat down on one of the back benches. He wore cadet uniform and side-arms.

  Two more years and I will be expected to enroll Mikhail in the cadet corps. And in the name of Aldones, Lord of Light, and Zandru, lord of all the hells, what sense does it make for me to send the Heir to Hastur into the cadets, as I was sent, as Javanne is dutifully sending her sons? Yes, of course, if Mikhail is one day to inherit the power and might of the Hasturs—and I have never seen the woman I wish to marry, so it’s likely Mikhail will inherit—he must learn to command himself, and others. But with the Empire on Darkover, with the inevitability of an interstellar empire at our very doorstep, surely there is a better way to educate the Heir to Hastur than sending him to be schooled in swordplay and the code duello, and taught unarmed combat and the best way to keep drunks off the streets! Regis sighed, thinking of the inevitable outcry it would cause if he, Heir to Hastur, should choose to have his son given the Terran education which Marius, Kennard’s son, had had.

  And where was Marius? Surely he should have come into the Alton Domain’s enclosure! He was old enough, now, and if he wished to lay claim to the Domain, before it was declared vacant, surely it should be now!

  Perhaps he too has bowed to the inevitable, or decided he would rather leave the Wardenship of the Domain to Gabriel. Again, Regis sighed, remembering a time when he had told his grandfather that he would as soon leave the Domain to Javanne’s sons.

  One, at least, of my sons, should have a Terran education. If not Mikhail, he thought, then his son by Crystal di Asturien. It was early to think about that—the boy was a hearty toddler not yet two years old, and Regis had seen him fewer than a dozen times. He had two other children, too, daughters, through similar liaisons. Terrans educate their daughters. I will see that the girls, at least, are educated, though I suppose there will be trouble about it; their mothers are conventional enough to think it an honor to bear a child to a Hastur Heir. He knew perfectly well the women had not had much interest in him aside from that, and his undoubted good looks—women pursued him for that and it grew a little wearying.

  At this point his train of thought was interrupted by a loud cry from the Guardsmen at the door.

  “Danvan Hastur of Hastur, Warden of Hastur, Regent of Elhalyn and of the Comyn!”

  Regis rose with the rest as his grandfather—Hastur of Hastur, an aging man, his light hair still retaining some gold among the gray, clad in the ceremonial blue and silver of the Hasturs—came into the Crystal Chamber and went slowly to his seat. He seated himself in the front row and looked round the Crystal Chamber.

  “Kinsmen, nobles, Comynari,” he said, in his rich voice. “I welcome you to Council. Highness—” he bowed to Derik—“will it please you to call the roll of the Domains?”

  So Lord Hastur had decided that he must give Derik some privileges and responsibilities, however empty and ceremonial! Derik rose and came forward; like the Hasturs, he was wearing blue and silver with the golden crown of the Elhalyns across the fir-tree emblem.

  “I speak for Hastur of Elhalyn,” he said. “Hastur of Hastur?”

  Danvan Hastur rose and bowed. He said, “I am here at your service, my lord Derik.”

  “Ardais?”

  Dyan Ardais stood up and bowed. “Dyan-Gabriel, Warden of Ardais.”

  “Aillard?”

  There was a small stir behind the curtains of one of the boxes in the enclosure of the Aillards, and Callina Aillard, thin and pale, in the formal gray and crimson draperies of the Aillards, said quietly, “Para servirte, vai dom.” Regis saw Merryl, looking sullen, in a seat somewhat below his half-sister; then a handful of loosely related families, Lindir, Di Asturien, Eldrin. Regis did not know most of them by sight at all.

  “Ridenow of Serrais.”

  This was out of order, Regis thought; the Alton Domain was higher in rank than the Ridenow. But perhaps he was giving them ample time to answer.

  “I speak for Ridenow, and I am here at your command, vai dom,” said Edric Ridenow. An enormously fat man, well into middle age, he sat with his half-grown sons and a small herd of his brothers; Regis recognized Lerrys, and Auster who had been in the Guards as officers. There were others he didn’t know. There were a few women behind the curtains in the private boxes; the Ridenow lived at the very borders of the Dry Towns and were of Dry-town blood, and while they did not follow Dryland customs and chain their women, they did keep them in somewhat greater seclusion than most of the mountain Domains.

  “Alton?” Derik called, and for some reason he looked pleased.

  Silence.

  “Alton of Armida, Alton of Mariposa—”

  Gabriel Lanart-Hastur rose within the Hastur enclosure and said, “For the sixth time I answer for the Domain of Alton, as Regent during the absence of the rightful claimants.”

  Derik bowed and then he turned toward Lord Hastur. He asked, “Do I ask him now?”

  Regis saw his grandfather flinch slightly. But he nodded and Derik said, “This answer has been acceptable for five years. On the sixth year it is time to declare the Domain of Alton of Armida vacant, and accept the claim of the next Heir. Gabriel Lanart-Hastur of Edelweiss, come forward.”

  Regis tightened his lips. Gabriel, or Old Hastur himself, had put Derik up to this; the young prince had not the wit to think it out for himself. Gabriel stood up and went forward into the center of the room, the rainbow lights playing over him. He was, Regis thought, a reasonable claimant. He was an honorable man; he was the grandson of one of the sisters of Kennard’s father, giving him Ridenow and Alton blood; he had commanded the Guards for six years in Kennard’s absence; he was married and had fathered several sons.

  Dyan promised it should not go unchallenged. What is he waiting for? Regis looked over at the Ardais enclosure, but Dyan sat without moving, unsmiling, his face blank and grim.

  Danvan Hastur made his way slowly down into the central area and stood before Gabriel. Regis could see that Javanne was hugging herself with excitement.

  “Gabriel Lanart-Hastur, Alton of Mariposa,” said Hastur quietly, “for six years you have ruled the Domain of Alton in the absence of Kennard-Gwynn Lanart-Alton of Armida, and of his lawful heir Lewis-Kennard. In the continuing absence of these two, I call upon you to relinquish the state of Regent-Heir to the Domain, and assume that of Warden of Alton and Lord Alton of Armida, over the entire Domain of Alton and those who owe them loyalty and allegiance. Are you prepared to assume wardship over your people?”

  “I am prepared,” said Gabriel quietly.

  “Do you solemnly declare that to your knowledge you are fit to assume this responsibility? Is there any man who will challenge your right to this solemn wardship of the people of your Domain?”

  Gabriel made the correct ritual answer: “I will abide the challenge.”

  Ruyven di Asturien, second-in-command of the Guardsmen, commander of the Honor Guard, strode to Gabriel’s side and drew his sword. He cried out in a loud voice, “Is there any here to challenge the worth and rightful wardship of Gabriel-Alar, Lord Alton?”

  There was a minute of silence. Regis looked at Dyan, but he was as impassive as ever. Young Gabriel, on the back benches of the Hastur enclosure, was watching his father with excitement. Regis wondered, will Gabriel declare young Gabriel his Heir? Or will he do the decent thing and declare himself willin
g to adopt Marius as his Heir, giving him Council recognition? I swear by the Lord of Light, if he does not, I shall do so myself. . . .

  Then, from two corners of the room, there were two answers.

  “I challenge.”

  “And I.”

  Slowly, Marius came forward from the curtained box in the empty Alton enclosure. He said, “None could challenge my cousin Gabriel’s worth, my lords; but I challenge his rightful wardship. I am Marius-Gwynn Lanart Alton y Aldaran, son of Kennard Alton, and his rightful Heir in the absence of my elder brother, Lewis-Kennard, and I claim the Domain of Alton and the household of Armida.”

  And from the rear of the Ardais enclosure came a man Regis did not recognize: a tall, broad-shouldered man with flaming red hair just touched with gray. He came slowly down the steps and said, “I challenge Gabriel-Alar Lanart-Hastur, worth and wardship; he is Regent, not Heir. I can rightfully claim the Domain of Alton, though many years ago I renounced it in favor of Kennard Alton: now I claim it as Regent for Kennard, since Dom Gabriel has violated his Regency by making claim to the Domain on his own part.”

  Danvan Hastur said formally, “I do not recognize you; state the nature of your claim.” Yet Regis knew from the look on his grandfather’s face that he knew the man, or at least knew who he was. A quick look at Dyan, and in spite of the telepathic dampers he picked up the thought, you see, Regis, I promised you the Domain should not go unchallenged, and now I have confused them with not one claimant but two.

  The strange red-haired man said, “My mother was Cleindori Aillard; my father was Lewis Lanart-Alton, elder son of Valdir, Lord Alton. And my name, though I have never used it, in all my years at Arilinn, is Damon Lanart-Aillard; and for twenty years I have been Second in the Arilinn Tower as Technician and tenerézu.” He used the archaic word which could mean Keeper or Guardian. “I can claim Council-right, both through my mother and my father; and I was married to Elorie Ardais, daughter of Lord Kyril, and a half-sister to Lord Dyan.”

  “We do not recognize this man as Aillard!” shouted Merryl, half leaping down the steps almost into the central space. “He is a Terran imposter!”

  “Silence, sir!” said Lord Hastur sharply. “You do not speak for your Domain! Lady Callina?”

  She said quietly, “I have known Jeff—Dom Damon—for many years at Arilinn. His Heritage is Alton and Aillard; if he had had a daughter, she would stand where I stand now. It is true that he was fostered on Terra; yet he has come within the Veil at Arilinn and I am here to witness that he has the Alton gift in full measure.”

  “Are we going to let a woman testify about this kind of thing?” demanded Merryl. And Derik said, “Dom Merryl has the right to speak for Aillard—”

  “Not in the presence of Lady Callina, but only in her absence,” said Hastur sharply. “So here we have two claimants to Alton, and the day when such claims could be settled by the sword is over forever.” Regis, unwilling, remembered the last time such a challenge had been made in this room; Dyan had been challenged, and he, a superb swordsman, could have settled it at once that way; but he had wisely refused to do so. It seemed that Dyan had set a precedent. “For Gabriel’s claim we have his Regency of the affairs of the Domain for the last six years, and his command of the Castle Guard, and certainly there is none can say he has commanded unworthily. Marius Lanart-Montray—” he said, turning to Marius and speaking directly to him, and Regis reflected that this was the first time Lord Hastur had admitted that Marius existed. He had not given him his title claimed as Kennard’s heir, Lanart-Alton, but he had acknowledged his existence, and that was more than he had ever done before. “Marius Lanart-Montray, since you have appealed to justice here before Comyn, we are required by law to hear the nature of your claim.”

  Marius had dressed himself in the green and black of his Domain; he wore a ceremonial cloak bearing the device of the Altons and their standard. He had, Regis noticed, Kennard’s own sword. No doubt Andres had kept it for him till this day.

  He said, and his voice was not entirely steady, “I declare that I am the true and lawful son of Kennard, Lord Alton, and Elaine Aldaran-Montray.”

  Hastur said, “We do not recognize the Domain of Aldaran as having any claims among the Comyn.”

  “But that is due to change,” said Prince Derik, stepping forward, “for on this day I have betrothed the sister of my dear friend and cousin and loyal paxman, Merryl Lindir-Aillard, to Lord Beltran of Aldaran; and through his marriage to the Lady Callina, who will be my sister-in-law after my marriage to Linnell Lindir-Aillard, the Domain of Aldaran will be restored to the Comyn.”

  Callina made a short, sharp exclamation: Regis realized that she had been told nothing of this! Merryl was grinning like a housecat which had just devoured a cagebird and is pretending to lick nothing more than cream from his whiskers. Dyan leaned forward, with a dismayed stare.

  Danvan Hastur said, and he could not keep the reproach from his voice. “My prince, you should have informed me privately about this!”

  “Why?” Derik demanded, not even trying to conceal his insolent stare. “You have delayed my crowning well past the age when every other King in Thendara has taken his throne, my Lord Hastur, but you cannot refuse me the right to make a good marriage for my loyal paxman.”

  Hastur muttered something under his breath. It sounded like an oath—or was it a prayer? He could not openly refuse the Heir to the throne, and, Regis thought, it serves him right for never facing the fact that Derik simply is not fit to be crowned—and that he should have tried to have him legally set aside.

  He said, sharply reproving, “We will speak of this later, my prince; may I venture to remind you that it is the Alton Domain now at stake?”

  “But Marius is part Aldaran, and the Aldaran claim is legitimate now—” said Derik, insisting. Hastur was at a point where he was, Regis could see, ready to tell Derik that if he did not sit down and be quiet, he would have him removed, and that, Regis realized, would blow the pretense of Derik’s competence sky-high. But Linnell Aillard, leaning over the railing, said something softly to Derik, and he fell silent.

  Marius was obviously trying to collect his thoughts. He said, “I challenge Gabriel’s wardship; he has not the Alton gift and he has not arranged to have me tested to prove whether or not I have it.”

  Gabriel asked, staring directly at Marius, “Do you claim to have the Alton gift?”

  “I don’t know,” said Marius. “I have not been tested. Do you claim to have it?”

  Gabriel said, “In these days—” but was interrupted by a cry of surprise from the Guardsman at the door.

  “Gods above! Is it you, sir?”

  And then a tall, gaunt man strode into the Crystal Chamber. He was wearing Terran clothing; one arm ended in a folded sleeve at his wrist. His dark hair, thick and curling, was streaked with gray, and his face was scarred and emaciated.

  “I am Lewis-Kennard, Lord Alton, Warden of Armida,” he said in a harsh voice that sounded raw and strained, “and I claim your indulgence, my lords, for coming late to this assembly; as you can see, I have but just landed here, and have come at once without even delaying to clothe myself in the ceremonial colors of my Domain.”

  General uproar, exploding in all directions from the walls of the Crystal Chamber. In the middle of it, Old Hastur’s voice crying out uselessly for order; and finally he spoke urgently to Gabriel, who bellowed in his best drill-sergeant voice, “Council is recessed for half an hour! We will re-convene then and make some sense out of all this!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  (Lew Alton’s narrative)

  I’m no good at handling crowds; no telepath is, and I’m worse than most. Within seconds after Hastur called a recess, they were all around me, and despite the telepathic dampers, the blend of curiosity, horror, shock—malice from somewhere—was more than I could take. I elbowed a way into the corridor outside, and moments later, Marius was beside me.

  “Lew,” he said, and we hugged each other. I
stood back a little to look at him.

  “I wouldn’t have recognized you. You were just a skinny little tadpole—” I said. Now he was tall, almost as tall as I, sturdy, broad-shouldered—a man. I could see the shock in his eyes as he took in the scars on my face, the arm that ended in the folded sleeve. I don’t know what, if anything, my father had told him—and he had only been a child when it happened—but God only knows what gossip he had heard in the Comyn. Well, I was used to that shock in people’s faces when they saw me first; I only had to remember the first time I’d looked in a mirror after it all happened. They got used to it, and if they didn’t, they weren’t likely to stay around in my life long enough for it to matter. So I didn’t say anything except, “It’s good to see you, brother. Where’s Andres?”

  “Home,” Marius said. “Waiting. I wouldn’t let him come with me this morning. Whatever happened, I didn’t want him mixed up in it. He’s not as young as he used to be.” I caught the unspoken part of that, too. He didn’t want it thought that the claimant for the Alton Domain wanted, or needed, a Terran bodyguard. I never thought of Andres as Terran anymore; he’d been a second father to me, and all the father Marius had had during these crucial years between boy and man.

  That had been my fault, too. Then, angrily, I put that thought aside. No law had required our father to spend all his attention on his elder son. It was not my doing, but Marius had been neglected for me, and I wondered, even as we embraced, just how much he resented it. Even now, he might feel that I had turned up just in time to snatch the Domain from his hands.

  But there were those in the Comyn who would see nothing in Andres but his Terran background and name. Andres was one of the half dozen or less people here on Darkover that I cared to see.

  One of the others was waiting quietly behind Marius until our embrace loosened and we stood back from each other. I said, “Well, Gabriel?”