Hastur Lord (47 page)

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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

BOOK: Hastur Lord
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Dan shook his head. “It’s not that. When we did a genetic analysis of your brother, we mapped all his chromosomes . . .”
Regis still couldn’t figure out what his friend was getting at. Then he realized,
all his chromosomes
included those that determined gender. “I know Rinaldo is
emmasca
. He has never kept it secret. The condition may cause other anomalies as well . . . Are you saying he isn’t human?”
“I am saying there is no way he could have fathered the child his wife is carrying. It’s biologically impossible. He is genetically sterile.”
“Then who—”
Did that innocent-seeming child have a lover? Counting backward from Midsummer, she could not have been pregnant when she married Rinaldo. The implications of a son with no Hastur blood succeeding to the Domain were staggering.
It would break Rinaldo’s heart to discover the betrayal.
Dan lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have no idea, nor will I offer any advice as to what action, if any, you should take.”
“I hardly know what is necessary . . . or prudent.”
“Was I wrong to tell you?”
Regis shook his head. “The information is safe with me. I must ask you not to tell anyone else.”
“Only the doctor who performed the analysis knows. I will speak to her and have the records sealed.”
After a few parting comments, the two men wished each other well, and Regis took his leave.
“Tell Tiphani we miss her and hope to see her . . . when it becomes possible.”
After the artificial illumination of Headquarters, daylight seemed blessedly muted. Regis strode briskly past the Terran Zone perimeter, his mind still spinning. The air tasted of stone and metal. As he passed the checkpoint, the guard waved, a brief lift of one hand, and then returned to his work.
Regis reclaimed his horse with an additional tip to the street sweeper. Before he could mount up, however, Regis sensed he was not alone. He stilled himself, reins gathered in his left hand. His right hand slipped beneath his cloak to the dagger at his belt.
Air stirred behind his left shoulder. Regis heard a faint scuff of boot leather on stone . . .
The dagger slipped free. Regis turned, shifting his shoulder to swing the cloak out of the way—
And faced Valdir Ridenow, an arm’s-length away.
Valdir froze, hands well away from his body. “Lord Regis, we have lived through perilous times, you and I, but do you really think I would assassinate you in the middle of a street?”
“I do not know what you are capable of.” Regis slipped the weapon back into its sheath, but kept his fingers curled around the hilt. “Have you something to say to me? A farewell before you take ship for the stars?”
Valdir flushed. “I have no intention of abandoning my caste or my world. Federation citizenship is available to all as our right. It was a precaution only.”
“I truly do not care whether you are a citizen of the Federation or the Fourteenth Planet of Bibbledygook.” It might be better for Darkover if Valdir
did
go far away. “What do you want?”
“A word.”
“Only one? Why would I grant you that much?” An evil mood had infected Regis. Seeing the other man’s face, taut and proud, he relented.
“Very well. I am listening.”
“It’s too early for ale, and this street is far too public,” Valdir said. “I know a place in the Trade City where we can get a back room.”
“Please don’t insult my intelligence.” Although Regis could hold his own in a fair fight, old habits still held. He was not fool enough to go anywhere private with a man who had shown himself to be unscrupulous or to allow Valdir any closer than arm’s-length. Danilo would have a fit if Regis gave such a scoundrel the chance to slip a blade between his ribs.
“Here? Out in the open?” Aghast, Valdir glanced to either side. The horse’s body granted little visual privacy, and every few moments, a pedestrian passed close enough to overhear them.
“I advise you not to say anything you do not wish made public,” Regis said dryly.
“You have no reason to trust me . . .” When Regis made no reply, Valdir went on in a rush, “Lord Regis, we’ve had our differences in the past. I never thought to say this to your face, but I—we—no, I cannot shift any part of the blame to my cousins. They only followed where I led.”
Was Valdir trying to
apologize,
to admit he’d made a mistake?
“I know you think my methods improper—” Valdir said.
Criminal, more like.
“—but I am not a man who shrinks from what must be done. I was right in principle, if not in my choice of an ally.”
“My brother, you mean.”
Valdir’s expression hardened in response.
“You thought you could manage him,” Regis persisted, “like a puppet. But he has priorities of his own and no interest in your precious Federation. You put him in power, and now you must deal with him.”
“He won’t
listen
! It’s impossible to have a serious discussion with him! He’s unstable, out of control! I don’t know what he’ll do next—no one is beyond his reach.”
Regis straightened, the joints of his spine crackling with tension. “Why should I help you with the mess you’ve dug yourself into? Why should I do anything at all for you?”
“I acted only as I thought best,” Valdir repeated.
For a long moment, the two men stared at one another. Regis remembered Dyan Ardais saying very much the same thing. The man called Kadarin had doubtless thought so, too.
“Better men than you have done terrible things
for the good of Darkover
. How does that lessen the harm they caused or restore the lives they destroyed?” Black rage boiled up in Regis
.
“You put Rinaldo where he is and made sure I had no power to oppose you. You married off your own kinswoman to him, though she was a child with no understanding of what that meant.
“You set Haldred as my jailor,” Regis stormed on, “you cut me off from friends. You kidnapped two innocent men, one hardly more than a boy, a deed so lacking in honor that it should haunt you to your grave.
“And you threatened to murder my paxman . . .”
Valdir blanched.
“So now you come whining to me that my brother has a mind of his own? I say, you can choke on it. There are more important things at stake than your petty ambition! Go home to Serrais and tend to your people, or get yourself to Vainwal like your kinsman Lerrys. Or freeze in Hell, for all I care! Just don’t expect any sympathy from me!”
Regis swung into the saddle, leaving Valdir standing alone.
The ride back to the townhouse settled his temper somewhat. The sky still threatened, but the storm was not yet upon him. The last portion of the trip, he found himself longing for the sunlit parlor, Linnea’s steadfast warmth, and the laughter of the children, as if these could stand as bulwarks against the cruelty of the world.
The moment Regis entered the foyer of the townhouse, he knew something was wrong.
“Oh, Blessed Cassilda, you’re back!” Merilys rushed through the interior door, face red, hands fluttering.
“What’s happened?”
“
Domna
Javanne—”
The sound of incoherent sobbing came from within, carrying the unmistakable imprint of Javanne’s
laran.
Regis thrust his cloak into the hands of the trembling servant and hurried inside.
The uproar led him straight to the family parlor, no longer a haven of tranquility. Javanne hunched on the divan, wailing. Linnea sat beside her, one arm around Javanne’s shoulders, speaking soothing words. Neither child was present, but surely Kierestelli must have sensed the jangled waves of grief and fury.
Gabriel—
Javanne looked up, saw Regis, and burst out in renewed weeping. He hesitated, feeling helpless in the face of such feminine outburst. If Linnea could not calm Javanne, then what could he do?
But Javanne was his sister, and she had been as kind an older sibling as she could. He lowered himself to the divan on Javanne’s other side and took her hand in his. Her skin was moist from wiping away her tears.
“
Breda,
you are safe with us. Let us help you.”
Javanne’s shuddering lessened, but she could not speak, only shake her head.
Linnea said, “She held herself together long enough to tell me that Rinaldo has dismissed Gabriel as Commander of the Guards.”
“Why, for what cause?” Regis asked. Gabriel was one of the most capable and respected Guards officers in a generation.
“None that Javanne knew.” Linnea’s brows drew together and her lips tightened. “Regis, how can your brother do such a thing? He does not have the authority!”
“I’m afraid he does,” Regis said with a twinge of regret at how easily and dispassionately his grandfather’s lectures returned to him. “He is Lord Hastur and, nominally at any rate, Regent of the Comyn. The Comyn Council no longer exists, and with Lew Alton off-world, no one else has the rank to challenge him.”
Javanne straightened up, struggling visibly to control her sobs. “He—he—”
“The Lanarts have some claim to Alton,” Regis said thoughtfully. “Gabriel has a basis to challenge the decision, and many would stand with him.”
“See, it’s not so bad—” Linnea began.
“You don’t understand!” Javanne burst out. “He’s
taken
Ariel!”
28
T
aken Ariel?
Javanne took one deep breath after another, but managed to keep from bursting into renewed tears. Over her head, Regis met his wife’s eyes. Linnea’s bone-deep fear shivered through him. His first coherent thought was that Valdir Ridenow was up to his old schemes, and what could he want with Gabriel and Javanne—
No, Valdir tried to warn me.
“What do you mean,
taken
?” Linnea prompted Javanne.
“I left her alone—with her governess—in our quarters. Only for an hour, while I tended to—there’s so much to do, and Bettany’s useless! When I got back, Ariel was gone—the governess half out of her mind—a note—”
Javanne fumbled in a pocket and drew out a paper. Hand trembling, she held it out to Regis.
“Dear sister,”
he read the scholarly script aloud for Linnea’s sake.
“Be at ease concerning the welfare of my niece. She is well, and her spiritual development is now properly—”
with each phrase, his heart sank lower “—
in the care of Lady Luminosa. Every means will be taken to ensure her continued safety, but it would be imprudent to interrupt her religious education.
“Rinaldo Felix-Valentine, Lord of Hastur”
“May all the demons in Zandru’s Seven Hells curse him!” Javanne cried. “Oh, my poor little girl!”
“It seems,” Linnea said, filling the brief pause, “that Rinaldo has learned his lessons from Valdir Ridenow all too well. I cannot think why he would want to set aside such a capable and loyal Guards Commander as Gabriel—”
“Because my husband
is
loyal, that’s why! Loyal to the Comyn,” Javanne muttered.
“—except to prevent Gabriel from stopping him,” Linnea finished.
Memories flooded Regis of the sickening fear when Danilo and Mikhail had been held prisoner. He would have done anything, given anything—even his own life—to save them. Danilo was an adult and Mikhail almost so, but Ariel was just a child . . .
Blessed Cassilda, what kind of monster would do this to a little girl?
“He won’t harm her. He still needs your cooperation,” Linnea was saying to Javanne in that cool, rational tone of hers. “Until we can find a way to release her, you must pretend to go along.”
Javanne gave Linnea a glassy-eyed stare of incomprehension. Her desolation shocked Regis into action. When he had developed near- fatal threshold sickness, she had reached him with her mind. She had talked him through the worst of it until his life was no longer in danger.

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