Exile's Song (53 page)

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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

BOOK: Exile's Song
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“Beloved,” Piedro began gently, taking his wife’s arm. “There is a storm coming in over the hills. We should not set out now. Come, you must not overexcite yourself. Think of the child you bear within you.”
“Get the coach ready!” Ariel was desperate now. “I am not going to sit here and wait around for Marguerida to foresee something else, or to deign to pick one of my brothers. You are all conspiring against me. Piedro saw the futility of trying to reason with his wife, and grasped her arm more tightly, shaking his head.
“No one is conspiring against you,
chiya,
” Jeff said quietly.
I had no idea it was still so bad. Poor woman! Her fears will be the death of her.
“I know what you think of me, that I am a stupid woman fit only for bearing children. I need no
laran
to know that you all despise me.”
Javanne looked truly shocked by these words, and hurt as well. “Ariel, that is not true. How could you think such a dreadful thing?”
“You never cared a bit for me, so don’t pretend. You couldn’t wait to get me out of Armida! And you!” She rounded on Jeff. “I am not surprised you take her side. For all that you have lived on Darkover for years, you are still a lover of the Terranan. If she had foreseen the death of one of Elorie’s children, would you be so calm? Can you swear to me that her vision is false?”
Jeff looked old and sad and weary. “Only God knows our fates, Ariel.”
Ariel’s eyes narrowed, filled with hate and desperation. “You will never know how much I despise all of you!” She hugged Kennard against her breast with a viselike grip, then grabbed young Lewis with her free hand. Tearing herself free of her husband’s embrace, she started to herd her other children away from the table and out of the room. The sound of her shouts up the stairs echoed back into the dining room, where Margaret, Javanne, Jeff, and Liriel remained in a stunned silence.
“I never realized,” Javanne said at last, “how deeply she resented having no
laran.
Not until this moment.” She looked older than her years, weary and a little haggard now. “Marguerida, I apologize for my daughter’s foolish behavior. She was a nervous child, and I thought that being married and having children would steady her. I never wished to be rid of her, though it seems that she imagined I did.”
There was no insincerity in her apology, and for the first time Margaret felt a near liking for her aunt. “There is nothing to apologize for, Aunt. I should have kept my face under better control.”
“No, Marguerida. It was not your face which told the tale, but my own and Liriel’s. Your only mistake was not being able to shield your thoughts more closely.” Javanne shrugged. “I will go and try to calm her down. I don’t think I will succeed. Ariel is very stubborn, once she makes her mind up.
She left, and Margaret wished herself light-years away, on some planet where
laran
was unknown. If only Ivor had not died! If only she had never come to Darkover! If only the Senator had not told her to come to Armida. There was no help for her feelings, and she knew that she just had to endure until she could leave—though where she would go she had not a clue. If only there was someone she could talk to, someone to advise her.
Margaret glanced at Liriel and shook her head. Then she looked at old Jeff and found him watching her, his eyes sad. She had the impulse to trust him, to talk with him. Then the habits of her life resumed, and she withdrew, made herself go cold and distant. She was going to keep herself apart, where she could not injure anyone. So why did her heart ache? And why did she want to cry so badly?
20
W
ithin the hour, Ariel, with a remarkable show of organization for a woman who seemed nearly out of her mind with worry, had marshaled the servants and gotten the baggage packed. She marched her children out the front door, while a desperate-looking Piedro trailed behind her. Outside, there was an odd-looking coach of a sort Margaret had only seen in museums. It was square and high, mounted on six wheels, and pulled by four strong horses. The children climbed in with reluctance, the older ones looking over their shoulders, and the younger howling in protest.
Luggage of all sorts was piled atop the coach, and it didn’t look very stable to Margaret’s untrained eye. Two men sat on a seat at the front, looking uneasily at the clouds gathering above the hills. She was not sufficiently weatherwise about Darkover to guess how long the storm would be in coming, but she thought it would hit long before the Alar family rode the twenty miles to their home. Margaret sighed, shaking her head, as she listened to Javanne pleading with Ariel to reconsider her rash behavior. But Ariel just slammed the coach door in her mother’s face. Piedro Alar, looking even more despondent than usual, mounted a fine horse. She didn’t think he was a very good rider, for his seat was poor. If only she hadn’t had the vision!
Javanne, her expression fierce, stood on the steps and watched the coach start away. It seemed to sway from side to side beneath the load on the roof. Unbalanced, Margaret thought, just like its occupant. Then she cursed herself for being judgmental, and hoped no one had heard her. The coach lumbered down the drive, and a little dust rose around the wheels.
Javanne turned abruptly and started up the stairs. She noticed Margaret was standing just inside the open door, and her expression changed from fierce and worried to just worried. “You must not blame yourself for this, Marguerida. You will, of course, being your father’s child.”
Lew always imagined himself much more important than he was. Trying to be someone he wasn’t! Kennard should never have forced him on the Council! He should have made my Gabriel his heir, and then we would not be having this problem at all! I know it is not your fault, but I cannot help how I feel! He was a morbid, prideful child, and you are very like him.
The older woman brushed past her, leaving Margaret stunned and stung by this biting comment. She was puzzled by the resentment she felt from her aunt, and while she told herself it had nothing to do with her, still she was hurt. It wasn’t her fault Lew was impossible, was it?
Margaret watched Javanne Hastur as she swept up the stairs to the second floor, like some minor goddess. She could see the pride in the way her aunt’s back was held, but she could also sense the despair and rage within the other woman. She was worried about Ariel, and clearly frustrated at her inability to manage her daughter. Javanne, Margaret decided, was not a woman who liked to have her will challenged by anyone. Perhaps that shed some light on the way in which she viewed Lew Alton. Whatever his other faults, she knew her father always did what he thought was right, and she suspected that he and Javanne had probably disagreed on several matters she knew nothing about.
Margaret was going to follow her aunt up the stairs and seek the security of her own chamber when she heard the thump of boots coming down the hall from the rear of the house. Mikhail emerged from beneath the shadow of the stairs, whistling cheerfully and smelling a little of the stables. His face lit up when he saw her, and her heart skipped a beat in her chest. No matter how she argued with herself, what good and logical reasons she gave herself, she still could not help finding the sight of Mikhail Lanart-Hastur delightful. “Marja! Just the person I was looking for!” he began.
“Don’t call me that.” Her father’s nickname for her on Mikhail’s lips was disquieting. “It makes me feel like a child!”
“Forgive me, cousin, for presuming. What shall I call you, then? Marguerida is such a mouthful.” He grinned a little, and his blue eyes twinkled. “I always feel like a child in this house, so why should you be different?”
“I’m sorry. I should not have snapped at you. It has been one hell of a morning. First Liriel wanted to monitor me, then she said I had to go to Arilinn, and then something happened in the dining room, and Ariel has taken her children away for fear I will put the evil eye on them.” She sighed.
“’I heard about it while Piedro was getting the coach ready. He is fit to be tied, poor fellow. I regret that my sister is so silly—no
laran
and enough emotion for six people—that’s Ariel. But I came to find you, to see if you wanted to ride with me around Armida. I’ll even let you ride Dorilys,” he teased.
Margaret thought of the pewter-gray mare, and the start of a smile moved her lips. “I would love that! In fact, a good ride would help me shake off the feeling I have that . . . I have done something dreadful. But
Dom
Gabriel didn’t seem to think she was a proper mount for a ‘mere’ female. And there is a storm coming, too.” She had a mild pleasure in the very idea of doing something her uncle would not approve of, and more so in doing it with Mikhail.
“I know. But we won’t be gone long. And my father thinks all women, including my mother, should ride weary old nags who couldn’t gallop if their lives depended on it. But he is not here, so let’s take advantage of his absence and get into mischief.” He smiled at her broadly.
She’s so beautiful, and I don’t think she knows it!
This thought distracted Margaret from wondering where
Dom
Gabriel was. No one had ever called her beautiful before. Indeed, while she worked with Ivor Davidson, she rarely thought about her appearance except to be clean and tidy. Her aversion to mirrors had kept her from spending much time in front of them, and she always thought that Dio was the epitome of beauty, not herself. “While the cat’s away . . . I think some fresh air would do me a world of good. I’ll go change. Where will I meet you?”
“Go to the back of the house, past Liriel’s lair, and there is a door opening onto the Stable Court. I’ll be waiting.”
I’ve been waiting all my life—what’s a few minutes more.
Margaret didn’t permit herself to dwell on Mikhail’s thoughts. They were too disquieting, for she knew she felt an answering emotion, a tender, new-born desire for her cousin. What a mess! Things were in enough of a muddle without adding that!
When Margaret entered the bedroom, she found Rafaella sitting on the trundle bed, her eyes streaming and her nose a glowing red. “What’s the matter?”
The Renunciate snuffled. “I have caught a dreadful cold, I think.”
“Then get undressed and go to bed! I’m going riding with cousin Mikhail, but I won’t be long.”
“It looks like it is going to rain soon, Marguerida. Are you sure?”
Riding with Mikhail? That will put the cat among the pigeons! Oh, dear, I should go with her! Lady Javanne will have my head, if she learns about it. But I ache all over.
Margaret pulled her riding skirt out of the closet. “I am sure that if I stay in this house much longer, I will go stark raving mad. It will do me good to get out. I miss the road, you know. A little rain won’t hurt me, and it might just cool my temper. What a morning!” She gave a sharp laugh as she put on her skirt. “I never thought I would willingly forgo the delights of roofs and convenient bathrooms for the out-of-doors, but right now, I would be glad if the two of us were going about as we did before I got sick. You are splendid company, Rafaella. Now, get into bed.”
“Am I? No one ever told me that before.” The Renunciate sneezed enormously. “My head feels three sizes too large.”
“I’ll find a servant and ask for some tea for you before I go out.”
“Thank you. You are good company, too, Marguerida.”
Please, be careful!
Ignoring the risk of infection, Margaret bent down and gave Rafaella a long hug. She brushed a strand of hair off her companion’s brow and patted her shoulder comfortingly. Then she hurried out of the room.
When Margaret reached the Stable Court, she realized it was the place she had seen from the window of Liriel’s room. What had Mikhail called it? Her lair? A good name for it. She could smell the pleasant scent of horses, dung, and wet stones as she crossed the open area. Grooms and hostlers were busy with their tasks, currying horses and checking hooves. It was a vast relief from the tension of the house, from the demands of her new family and all they expected of her.

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