Danilo did not know how to react, whether he should acknowledge her presence. If Rinaldo had managed to spirit her away from Terran Headquarters, Danilo did not want to consider the consequences.
At Rinaldo’s gesture, Bettany came to stand beside him. Her color deepened as the other guests bowed to her. Certainly, there was an unwonted freshness to her skin, a new softness to her chin and a fullness to her partly bared breasts.
“Tell them our news, my dearest,” Rinaldo said.
She accepted a goblet from a servant and lifted it. “Drink a toast, my lords and ladies, to the son of my lord Rinaldo, which I shall bear come Midsummer’s Eve.”
For a fraction of a heartbeat, stunned silence reigned. Danilo wondered how it was possible, or how anyone but a laran-Gifted healer could determine that Bettany carried a boy child. He could not even begin to consider the political implications of Rinaldo producing an heir. Then Linnea, and a moment later Javanne, recollected themselves enough to utter feminine expressions of joy. Gabriel, moving swiftly to cover the lapse, bowed to Bettany and wished her and her child all happiness.
Regis, his expression unreadable, bowed first to Bettany, as a new mother-to-be taking her place of honor, and then to his brother. “Please accept my most sincere congratulations.”
Everyone applauded Bettany and drank several more toasts to her and her unborn child. Then the party split into two groups, the women sitting together, talking about pregnancy and baby clothes, while the men remained standing.
“I know what you are all thinking,” Rinaldo said, finishing his goblet and holding it out for a servant to refill. “None of you believed that I—an emmasca—could father a child. Admit it, you all believed me incapable.”
Gabriel clamped his jaw shut. Regis, meeting his brother’s challenging stare, said, “It does happen upon rare occasions, I suppose. Our chieriancestry manifests in the laranof some and the six-fingered hands of others. It is said to be especially strong in those who are born as you were, emmasca. But the chieriare not infertile. They do produce offspring, although very few.”
Regis paused, his eyes softening, and Danilo sensed in him one of the few luminous memories from the days of the World Wreckers. A chieri, one of the fabled “Children of Light” of the ancient forests, had come forward to help the beleaguered planet.
Danilo closed his eyes, remembering the tall, slender creature, at times like a wild, heartbreakingly beautiful girl, then unquestionably masculine. Keral had given birth to a child, conceived on the same night as Kierestelli and so many others, before returning to the Yellow Forest and the remnants of the chierirace. Did Keral still dance under the four moons in yearning, in grief, in ecstasy? And the child, the hope of a fading people, did that child flourish?
Will any of us ever see them again?
“Nothing is impossible to him who puts his faith in the Divine,” Rinaldo said. His expression of triumph left Danilo profoundly uneasy.
At least motherhood might bring Bettany a measure of fulfillment. Most well-born girls hoped for nothing more than a comfortable home, a husband and children. Linnea and her sister leroniwere the exception rather than the rule.
When Bettany moved apart from the other women, Danilo seized the opportunity to extend his felicitation. She responded with a sniff. “My happiness will come from my sons.”
After a fractional, astonished moment, Danilo hastened to say, “I hope they will grow to be honorable men.”
“They will be powerful and rich! All the world will kneel in fealty to them! Everyone will know that Igave them life!”
She paused, chest heaving. Perhaps she was aware that she could easily be overheard. Linnea and Javanne had averted their faces, but Tiphani was staring openly. Bettany turned her back on the off-world woman.
“Everyone said I was worthless. Oh, not when I could hear them, but I knew. I heard them whispering in my dreams. Now they will see—I will show them all! Even you with your kindness—” and here, Danilo remembered her angry words when he had suggested she seek out Linnea as a companion and guide. Bettany finished with, “ Youwon’t ever have sons to bow down before mine!”
Danilo did not know which was more appalling, her spiteful delusions or the vision of all Darkover under the rule of her offspring. In such a world, what would become of Mikhail? Of little Dani?
As far as he knew, Danilo had no trace of the Aldaran Gift of precognition, so he could reassure himself that his fears were imaginings born of his own recent captivity and unsettled times, nothing more.
“Oh!” Bettany clapped her hands over her mouth. Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes brimmed with tears. “I didn’t mean that! It just popped out! I never know what I’m going to say or feel from one moment to the next!”
“Little one, I did not take it personally. You have not offended me.” The only offense came from those who thrust her, ill in mind and unprepared, into such a marriage, but he could not say so to her face.
She lowered her hands. Her lower lip, full and soft as a child’s, quivered. She summoned a tentative smile. “There—I am better when I am with you. I think the time on the trail with you and MestraDarilyn and the others was the most fun I have ever had. Now I have no one except those silly maids, and they never tell me anything important. Youalways speak plainly and . . . you’re nice to me.” With a flutter of her eyelashes, she placed one hand on his arm.
Danilo’s chest tightened. By all that was holy, had the girl fallen in love with him? He knew he was reckoned handsome and could have had his pick of women—and more than a few men, too—had his heart not been so focused on Regis. For a hopeful moment, he decided he was mistaken, that she showed him no more favor than was proper to her husband’s paxman. Then he saw the sidelong glance and rise of her breasts, felt the caress of her fingers through the fabric of his sleeve, inhaled her perfume, a scent far too provocative for a young bride.
Did she have any idea what she was doing or how many others she placed at risk? She was the wife of the most powerful man on Darkover, and she carried his child, whereas Danilo’s freedom and, most likely, his life hung from the slender thread of her husband’s good will.
He remembered riding beside Bettany on the trail, her face as he handed her the cup of jacoat the inn . . . himself speaking words of encouragement . . . dancing with her at the nuptial ball . . .
Now she was looking up at him with unseemly boldness—no, not boldness. Pleading.
“You will still be my friend, won’t you? You’ll come and visit me often?”
He removed her hand from his arm and led her back to the other women. “Lady,” he said with as much gentleness as he could summon, “that would not be wise for either of us. If you have need of a friend—”
She halted. “You mean Lady Linnea! Why are you always trying to pawn her off on me when it is youI want?”
“Because she can help you, truly help you, and I cannot.”
“Cannot? Or will not?”
Danilo gave Bettany a short bow. He raised his voice so that everyone could hear him as he wished her a healthy child. Bettany looked as if she would stamp her foot. He returned to the other men, and when he glanced back, she had rejoined the women. Linnea, without any sign of having overheard, complimented Bettany on her gown.
Tiphani left the group of women without a backward glance, deserting the lady she purported to attend. Regis, with his usual impeccable grace, bowed to her as to the Legate’s wife.
“ DomnaLawton, I did not anticipate the pleasure of meeting you here. May all the joys of the season be yours.”
“Lawton?” She tossed her head, sending the edges of her coif fluttering. “I have left that life behind me. I have a new name, one given to me by the Power we all must answer to. I am no longer Tiphani but Luminosa. Through me flows the Divine Light. I have no need for earthly attachments.”
Only,Danilo thought wryly, for the earthly protection of Rinaldo.But was he her creature, or she his?
“. . . only fittin
g that my unborn son should be attended by the one who foresaw his conception . . .” Rinaldo was saying.
All eyes, for the women had halted in their conversation and now listened openly, turned to Tiphani.
“From the moment of the wedding, the sacred union of masculine and feminine essences,” Tiphani said, “I sensed an imminence. You all must have felt the Presence among us! That very night, as I was deep in prayer, I was granted a vision. Light—oh, sweet Divine Light!—filled me. It raptured me beyond any earthly bliss. In the midst of my transport, I saw the Holy Seed flow through me into the womb of the new bride. I was given the knowledge that not only would the handmaiden of my lord Rinaldo be fruitful, but she would carry his firstborn son.”
She rushed on, each glowing phrase building upon the one before. Danilo wanted to roll his eyes. He had been taught, as a child of a devout cristoforofamily, to believe in the saints, but Tiphani Lawton was not among them. Whatever had happened to her sprang from her own unstable mind.
For an instant, Danilo wondered whether the pregnancy was genuine or a concoction of wishful thinking. Such things were possible when weak minds and strong emotions came together. Certainly, the prospect of a legitimate heir would consolidate Rinaldo’s power among the Comyn. But how could anyone be sure? Rinaldo was as head-blind as any man Danilo had ever met. Silently, Danilo blessed his choice of Renunciate escorts, for no man could now say he himself had anything to do with her child. The two of them had never been alone for even five minutes.
Unless . . .
Unless she had already been pregnant when he brought her from Serrais. Horrified, he put the thought from his mind.
Bettany jumped to her feet, chattering about her miraculous motherhood. With quiet dignity, Linnea took her aside.
“You must not excite yourself overly, chiya.A calm manner and sweet words are beneficial to a woman in your condition. Come and sit beside me.”
“You must not address me in such a fashion,” Bettany said coldly. “I am Lady Hastur and mother to the future Hastur Lord.”
Javanne gasped at this blatant rudeness to a Comynara and former Keeper.
“Your rank is indeed higher than mine, vai domna,” Linnea replied with the easy confidence of one who need never bow to anyone. “But I have somewhat more experience in matters of childbearing, have I not?”
“That is all very well, but when my son is born, yourson will have to do whatever he says.”
“I hope our sons will be true and loyal kinsmen,” Linnea said. “Let us not argue. If we wish our children to be friends, we must set an example. I have no interest in usurping your precedence, only in your happiness and welfare. I wish to be of help to you.”
Tiphani had fallen silent. The men had turned to listen, Rinaldo with a fleeting, black expression, Regis with outright pride, Gabriel with barely disguised relief. Javanne attempted to put a soothing arm around Bettany’s shoulders, but Bettany shrugged her off.
“I myself will attend the blessed mother,” Tiphani intoned. “We have no need of primitive midwifery or native superstitions. Our guide shall be the Holy Seed itself. Let us retire to pray.”
With Bettany at her heels, she swept from the room. An awkward pause followed until Linnea and Javanne joined the men. Little of consequence was said, and the party broke up shortly. Danilo wished beyond words that he were free to leave with Regis and Linnea.
BOOK IV: Regis
26
Late morning sun poured through the windows of the townhouse parlor. After a month of almost continuous snowstorms, the skies had finally cleared. How long the respite would last, no one knew. In the streets, people seized the opportunity to dig out passageways through snow piled higher than a man’s head.
Regis, sitting beside the hearth, roused from his musings. The brightness of the day, coupled with the warmth of the parlor, had lulled him halfway into dreaming. On the divan opposite him, Linnea had just rocked Dani to sleep.
Much to her husband’s surprise, Linnea had insisted on a separate bedroom down the corridor from his and adjacent to Kierstelli’s. Regis thought at first that she wanted to preserve a measure of her former independence. He soon realized the benefits of separating the space in which she devoted herself to her children from the life they shared as a newly married couple. He gave up little of his own customs and preferences, but instead gained from the addition of hers. Each time she came to his bed, she brought a sense of new delight.
Linnea’s shawl of soft ivory wool had slipped away, revealing the baby’s mouth still pressed to her breast. The sun burnished her hair to a halo of rose-gold. At her feet, Kierstelli sat cross-legged, picking out a melody on the child-sized ryllRegis had given her as a Midwinter gift. Sensing his awareness, she looked up and met his gaze without pausing in her music.
A pang brushed his heart. Here he was, warm and comfortable, never hungry, for the cellars and larder were always well supplied. He had at last been freed of the responsibility he had never wanted. He had a wife he loved and respected. More than that, he had a family he had never dreamed possible. To his son, he would be the father he had never known. And yet . . .
And yet, his thoughts kept returning to those who still suffered. The poor, who had little food and no way to buy any, even if they could afford it. The country folk, even colder and hungrier, eating their seed crop from desperation.
And Danilo . . .Always his thoughts came back to Danilo, like an unhealed wound in his heart.
Surely, Rinaldo would value Danilo, would treat him fairly if not kindly. The pain of separation might never pass, but Danilo would be safe and well.
But not with me.
The threat posed by the Federation had receded but was far from resolved. The situation was unstable, dependent on Rinaldo’s whim. Since the Midwinter announcement of Bettany’s pregnancy, Rinaldo had become increasingly unpredictable, effusive one moment and darkly suspicious the next. Tiphani Lawton now wielded far more persuasive power than Valdir ever had. Valdir and his supporters had not given up their ambitions.
As for poor Bettany, she vacillated from remote and arrogant to childishly needy. In a combination of those moods, she had demanded that Linnea attend her as lady-in-waiting. Regis could not imagine a more perilous situation.
Merilys, who had come to serve Regis and Linnea after their marriage, slipped into the room. She took the sleeping baby into her arms, moving gently so as not to waken him. Regis wondered how she knew when to come, and he decided this knowledge was yet another women’s mystery.
When the door closed behind Merilys and the baby, Linnea rearranged the top of her gown, arched her back, and stretched. She looked very young, her movements unselfconscious in their grace, but her expression was somber.
“Regis, with this fine weather, the city will soon be abustle. I will no longer be able to blame being snowed in for not answering Bettany’s summons. I fear any further delay will be taken as discourteous at best.”
Regis found that his chair had suddenly become too comfortable. He pushed himself to his feet and strode to the window. Over the wall of the garden, he glimpsed people on the street. A rider in the short cloak of a City Guardsman guided his mount between the pedestrians. This district, with its wealthy mansions, was the first to be cleared of snow.
“Then we shall find another reason,” he said. “It is an insult to expect you to play nursemaid.”
“She has no kinswoman to attend her and is most likely as confused and frightened as any woman pregnant for the first time.”
Regis suppressed a smile. “That is compassionate, but it changes nothing.”
She came to stand beside him. He felt her ambivalence, her fierce desire to remain with her own baby, to protect both her children.
“What is it, preciosa?” he asked. “What troubles you?”
“I cannot set aside the feeling that this poor child needs me. Something is wrong. When I last saw her, at Midwinter, I couldn’t monitor her, nor would it have been ethical to do
so without her leave. I offered, telling her that Comyn women have done so through the ages. It poses no danger to mother or babe. She grew angry, as if I had insulted her. Should she ask me now, I would not refuse—but I fear the worst.”
“And that is?”
She looked up, her gray eyes troubled. “I don’t know.”
“Do you think she truly wants your help or only to boast that the woman who might have been lady to the Hastur Lord, an Arilinn-trained Keeper, now dances attendance on her?”
From her expression, she thought the same. Carefully, he picked his way through the words so as not to reveal the depth of his fears. “For the sake of our children, I ask you to keep yourself apart from the court and its perils.”
It was not so long ago that anyone I loved became a target for kidnapping and threat of worse. The moment Linnea passes through the Castle gates, she becomes vulnerable . . .He could not bear the thought of her in the clutches of his enemies.
But who, he wondered, were his enemies now? Valdir and the other Ridenow? Tiphani Lawton? Or Rinaldo himself?
She shook her head. “What about the risks of defiance? We do not know if this is a passing whim of hers or a test of loyalty. I do not want to move to Comyn Castle, but I would not put you or anyone we care for at risk. Danilo is still in Rinaldo’s custody, no matter what it’s called.”
“That’s all the more reason for you to stay here. Bettany cannot command you. She may be Lady Hastur, but she is not queen. I will speak with my brother. If this is his wish rather than hers, if he wants to be sure of me, then I will find another way of demonstrating my compliance.”
Linnea arched one eyebrow. You have never beencompliant.
Regis wanted to laugh and scowl at the same time. True, if old Danvan Hastur, with all his manipulative wiles and force of personality, had not been able to bend Regis to his wishes, then a monk dressed in Hastur robes had little chance. And yet . . . Grandfather could not force me to marry, and here I am.
“I do not wish to raise a rebellion against Rinaldo,” Regis said, trying to keep his voice light. “If anything, I owe him a brother’s love and all the help he will accept. He may have odd ideas, having been raised by Nevarsin monks, but he is not unintelligent. He is perceptive and idealistic. With time and good advice, he will come around.”
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