The Alton Gift (40 page)

Once at the Castle, Katherine returned to her own quarters, but Domenic, Donal, and Marguerida went on to the Grand Hall, where only a few days ago they had feasted and danced. Gone was the elaborate holiday buffet. The festive decorations had been removed, including the mirrors, so the hall seemed smaller and darker. The Castle servants had transformed it into a working headquarters. Tables had been set up, some as work spaces, others holding simple, nourishing food. A cluster of Guardsmen, cloaked for patrol, were helping themselves from a steaming soup tureen. Others stood, talking and sipping mugs of
jaco
.

Domenic took a bowl of thick bean stew, nut bread smeared with cheese, and a goblet of watered wine. He and Donal sat down at a table where Danilo and Darius-Mikhail were poring over charts and lists. A moment later, fortified
with jaco
and a plate of honey-nut pastries, Marguerida joined them.

"The craft guilds are reluctant to open their halls to outsiders. They say it's enough to care for their own," Darius-Mikhail said, finishing up a point he had made to Danilo. "The clinic shelters will soon be overtaxed."

Domenic took a sip of soup. It was too bland for his taste, but it was

hot and filling. After Darius-Mikhail had explained the problem, Domenic authorized Danilo to speak with the guild masters, since the older man had special contacts there. "I'd rather their cooperation be voluntary."

"It will take some persuasion, but I will try," Danilo answered. "To ease the burden on the shelters, we are encouraging those who are better off and can afford servants, or who have families still able to care for them, to stay at home."

Darius-Mikhail reminded them that not everyone had that option. "Those newly arrived in the city seem to be disproportionately stricken. Unfortunately, they have far fewer resources. Some have no shelter or clean water and no money to buy food."

"The poorer areas of the city are not much better," Danilo agreed. "Sometimes an entire family falls sick, and their neighbors are either overwhelmed with their own needs or too frightened to help."

Domenic asked for the latest estimate of casualties.

"We have only guesses, because we have no way of knowing for certain how many are tended at home." Consulting his notes, Darius-Mikhail gave alarmingly high calculations.

Donal looked grim. "And it's only beginning."

A group of servants had carried out fresh covered dishes and set them on the food tables. The lady supervising them approached the table, and Domenic recognized Alanna. She wore a white head scarf and an apron several sizes too big for her over a faded green gown. Quietly, she slipped on to a bench opposite Domenic. Darius-Mikhail stared at her, color suffusing his cheeks and throat, and then hastily lowered his gaze.

For an instant, Domenic glimpsed the image in Alanna's mind, the vision of Thendara streets silent and gray, bodies lying everywhere.

"What is the mortality rate?" Marguerida, having finished the last of her pastries, asked. "How many of those affected will die?"

"It is too soon to be sure." Darius-Mikhail shook his head. "Many continue to go about their business in the early stages."

"Spreading the disease still further," Donal said.

"Such fears serve no one," Domenic pointed out. "They only divert us from our true goals: tending those who need us most and discovering how to stop this dreadful epidemic."

"
Domna
, have you had success finding the Terran medical records?" Danilo turned to Marguerida, who shook her head. "Alas, I myself have little to offer. I was at Ardais during the time of the Allison expedition. Regis told me about it afterward, but not in any scientific detail. We thought we had eliminated trailmen's fever forever."

Domenic frowned as he struggled to recall the biology Marguerida had insisted he study years ago. Immunity from some vaccines wore off with time, but others lasted a lifetime. Which type applied to trailmen's fever? Danilo had been vaccinated, as had many others still alive. They would be middle-aged or older. Would immunization decades earlier give them even partial protection?

When he voiced his question, Marguerida immediately understood its importance. "If older people who have received the vaccine don't get sick, then we can use the old formula. When we find it, that is."

"But if they are as vulnerable as younger folk," Domenic said, following the thought along its logical progression, "it could either be because the immunity wears off or the disease has changed. How would we know the difference?"

"That's a very good question," Danilo said.

"I don't have lists of specific individuals," Darius-Mikhail said, "but I will ask those in charge of the shelters if any have fallen sick who were previously…
vaccinated"
He stumbled a little over the unfamiliar word.

"What of those among us who are already sick?" Domenic said. "
Domna
Marilla, for example. Was she immunized?"

Just at that moment, Illona entered the hall. She accepted a laden plate and a steaming mug from one of the serving maids and stood looking down at what she held as if she no longer recognized it as food and drink. Then, as if sensing his gaze upon her, she lifted her eyes to meet Domenic's.

He wanted to go to her, to fold her in his arms, to surround her with his love, to pour his strength into her. But he could do none of these things, not in public, not with Alanna and his mother sitting here, watching him. The weight of his position as Acting Regent pressed down on him like a mantle of stone. He was no longer a private person. With the fragile cohesion of the Council dependent upon him, with the healers and organizers looking to his leadership, he dared not falter, no matter how pressing his personal desires.

Illona came toward them. The men started to rise, but she gestured for them to remain as they were. She took the nearest seat, beside Alanna, and set the mug and plate on the table.

"I bear sad news," she said. "This very hour, Marilla Lindir-Aillard has passed from our midst."

Domenic sat back, stunned. "So quickly? The fever is that virulent?"

"It is a dreadful disease, and she was not strong," Illona said, "not like that poor man at Nevarsin. She slipped into a coma at midday and never awakened. Kennard-Dyan stayed with her until the end.
Domna
Linnea…" she inhaled, visibly gathering the shreds of her strength, "… ordered me to rest."

"And so you should, child," Marguerida said. "You must replenish your energies so that you do not also fall ill."

Illona picked up a slice of pastry studded with nuts and dried fruit and set it down again.

Alanna touched her gently on the back of the wrist, telepath-style. "I cannot eat such rich food when I am tired, either. May I bring you a custard or a baked apple instead?"

Domenic felt a sudden lump in his throat as Illona nodded and said in a thin, strained voice that she would like that very much. Alanna sprang up and hurried away toward the kitchen. Darius-Mikhail followed her with his eyes. She returned in only a few minutes with a simple egg custard garnished with cream and berries.

Illona took a spoonful and swallowed it. "It's very good. Thank you."

Alanna lowered her eyes and did not reply. Domenic had no notion of what such kindness to her rival had cost her. Whatever her feelings, she had behaved with dignity.

While Illona ate, Darius-Mikhail finished showing the others a map of the city, with locations of improvised hospitals marked.

He has not yet realised what the death of Lady Marilla means
, Domenic thought with an odd, dispassionate clarity.
Now he will be Warden of Ail-lard, with everything that entails
.

"We must make provision for disposing of the dead," Donal said. "
Domna
Marilla must be buried at Hali."

"But—" Darius-Mikhail broke in.

"Even now, at such a time," Donal glared at him. "Would you deny

her the honor of her caste because it is inconvenient? She was Comy-nara, a noble lady, and the head of her Domain."

Before Darius-Mikhail could reply, Domenic directed the conversation back on a more practical course. "Danilo, Marilla was about your age. Do you know if she had been vaccinated?"

"Yes, she was, for I remember Regis talking about all the Lindir-Aillards receiving the serum.
Domna
Callina was alive then and was the formal head of the Domain."

"So we cannot count on any immunity." Marguerida began to say something else, but she paused as her father came into the hall. His scarred face looked more battered than ever, but he moved with firm purpose, very much the still-vigorous man who had ridden from Nevarsin.

"Father, what is it? What has happened? Is it Mikhail? Please sit down."

Lew shook his head. "There is no time to lose. The reports of the epidemic grow more alarming with each passing hour."

For a moment Domenic feared his grandfather would insist on joining one of the healing circles, as he had at Nevarsin, but Lew went on, "Domenic, we must use every resource at our command. You must send word to Cisco Ridenow to release Jeram and ask for his help."

"Jeram, your friend from Nevarsin?" Domenic said, surprised. "If you believe he has something to offer, I will certainly ask him. If nothing else, as a Terran, he must know computers."

"Would he agree to help us?" A shadow passed over Danilo's still-handsome features. "He has little reason to love the Comyn, given what he has endured at our hands."

"Let us put that question to Jeram himself," Lew said.

"After all," Marguerida added tartly, "we are not all like Francisco."

"We should discuss this with him in a private location," Domenic said. He would eventually need an office, not his father's but some other place.

"Perhaps my chambers?" Lew said, as if sensing his thought.

Domenic asked Donal to have Jeram brought there. "Mother, will you come with us?"

He caught the edge of her quickly masked emotion. This Terran, Jeram, might not have willingly collaborated with Francisco, but he re-

minded her all too painfully of the scheme that led to her husband's current critical condition.

"I have too much work of my own." Shaking her head, Marguerida stood up. "First, I must go and see Kennard-Dyan. He will be devastated."

"Just so you do not overtire yourself," Lew said. "You must follow the good advice you gave to Illona."

Promising, Marguerida bent to kiss the old man's cheek before leaving the hall.

"I will join you, if I may," Illona said, "for I tended this man at Nevarsin."

As they got to their feet, Alanna said, with a pleading glance at Domenic, "May I not come, too?"

It would be cruel to exclude her when Illona could come and go wherever she willed, as a
leronis
. Alanna had tried so hard to behave well, to be of use.

As she is to be my wife, she should not be shut out or kept ignorant
Domenic nodded and held out his arm for her. From the corner of his vision, he saw Darius-Mikhail's quickly masked expression of disappointment. It was a pity Alanna was utterly oblivious to him.

Ah, well
, Domenic thought.
As Father always said, the world goes as it wills and not as we would have it. Especially in affairs of the heart
.

Donal escorted Jeram into Lew's quarters a few minutes after the rest had arrived and were settling around the small table before the fire. Domenic settled himself in one of the chairs beside his grandfather, noticing that the old tapestry of Lady Bruna Leynier tilted at an odd angle. Domenic wondered if the housekeepers had been careless or if Lew had been trying to rehang it one-handed.

Domenic was pleased to see the change in the
Terranan
. Over the last several days, Jeram had lost his pallor. Moving with assurance, he crossed the room and bowed to Lew.

"My friend," Lew said, holding out his single hand. "Excuse me for not embracing you as comrades should, but I claim an old man's privilege. It is good to see you looking well once more."

Jeram touched Lew's hand for a brief, telepath-style greeting. "You

lend us all grace,
Dom
Lewis," he said in fluent, heavily accented
casta
. "And you,
Domna
Illona."

"I am glad to see you, too," she said.

"
Dom
Domenic," Jeram said, bowing again.

"This is my cousin, Alanna Alar," Domenic said.

Another bow, this time accompanied by a smile of genuine warmth. "
Damisela"

"I remember you from the Council meeting," Alanna said. "
Dom
Francisco was absolutely horrid to you."

"Let us not speak ill of the dead," Jeram replied, "but I thank you for your concern."

"Please, sit down," Domenic said. "I do not know if news has reached you about the illness in the city."

"I have heard a little," Jeram said in a guarded tone, "enough to realize people have reason to be frightened."