The Alton Gift (50 page)

She paused, her eyes shining. "Yes, mixed in among the city of the dead, the explosions in the sky, the fires and floods, I saw things of beauty. I saw myself standing on a balcony overlooking a valley filled with flowering trees, and their perfume rose up to fill me, and I was laughing. I saw myself cradled in a circle of light, made up of people who knew me and loved me. I… well, never mind. Nowhere did I see myself with you. So I went to Illona and asked her advice."

"To
Illona?

"She, too, was once terrified of being sent to a Tower," Mikhail pointed out.

"Remember when you discovered her among the Travelers?" Mar-guerida said. "She'd heard nothing but horror stories about 'the witches of the Towers.' And look where she ended up—under-Keeper at Nevarsin, and now at Comyn Tower."

"Here? At Comyn Tower?" In a moment of wild confusion, Domenic wondered if he were still asleep and dreaming this entire conversation.

Illona was to stay in Thendara!

"I believe I said that," Marguerida said. "Didn't she tell you?"

He shook his head. "She was called away… to talk to
Domna
Linnea."

Yllana giggled at him. "You goose! Couldn't you guess why?"

When Lew smiled, it seemed to Domenic that the old scars on his face faded into crinkles of delight.

Of course
. Now it was all beginning to make sense.

"So where will you go?" Domenic asked Alanna, trying to distract his thoughts from dizzying conclusions.

"To Nevarsin Tower. It's a fair journey, but I believe the separation from home will be good for me." She gave Lew a shy smile. "I will still have you as my teacher."

"Poor Darius-Mikhail," Marguerida sighed. "How he will miss you."

Alanna lifted her chin. "There is nothing to miss. We have not exchanged more than a dozen sentences. All he can know of me is a pretty face, and when I marry—
if I
marry—I want to be valued for more than that!"

For a long moment, there did not seem to be anything more to say. They all looked at one another with expressions of satisfaction.

The servants returned with a pitcher of Terran coffee. Its distinctive aroma filled the air. Sighing in contentment, Marguerida poured it out for everyone.

At the first sip, a grin stretched Lew's scarred features. "Wherever did you get this, Marja?"

"Jeram has connections it's best not to question too closely," she said.

"Then there's only one thing to do," Domenic said, lifting his own cup, "and that is to tell you all how much I love you and to wish everyone the blessings of the gods, wherever they may go.
Adelandeyo"

"Yes, indeed," Marguerida said, laughing. "I'll drink to that."

EPILOGUE

i he first winter snows fell gently upon Thendara. At first the flakes melted as they touched the ground. By morning, however, white draped the roofs and piled in drifts along the streets. Children darted through the marketplaces, where farmers were still bringing in late-harvest sweet gourds and bushels of oats, hazelnuts, and hearty rye.

Snug and warm behind the walls of Comyn Castle, Danilo lingered over breakfast in his sitting room with Linnea. It had become their custom once or twice a tenday, after her night's work in the newly constituted circle of Comyn Tower. He had been concerned about her at first, to take up such a demanding post at her age.

"Do not trouble yourself for me," Linnea said. "Instead, be happy that I am once again doing the work I was trained for. I did not have to give up marriage or children"—
or love, as we both well know
—"the way Keepers trained in the old tradition were forced to. Look at Illona and how well she balances her own work as under-Keeper and her relationship with Domenic."

Domenic and Illona had been quietly discreet about their relationship, and Illona was so respected that no one would have dared to call

her a
barragana
. In fact, the winter court had taken to referring to her as his
leronis-
consort.

"I have never seen him so happy, either," Danilo said.

She laughed. "It seems there is no end to goodness!"

Some good things end.

A
pang of loss brushed his heart, sweet and bitter. In the very edge of his vision, he caught the brightness in her eyes as well.

Linnea picked up her thick knitted shawl, a gift from Marguerida. She yawned, covering her mouth with one delicate hand. "I fear there is one way in which I do show my age, and that is I no longer have the stamina for staying awake past my bedtime."

"Rest well, then," he said, getting to his feet. "Come again when you will."

Linnea paused, one hand on the latch of his door. "It is good to speak with an old and dear friend. For all our differences, there is even more we have shared, and those memories now form a tapestry of life between us. We have both loved and been greatly loved in our turn, and for one lifetime, that is enough."

Thendara
. Once Jeram had never wanted to see it again, and now it would very likely be his home for the rest of his life.

He reined his sturdy gray mountain pony to a halt at the crest of the pass, letting the beast catch its breath while the wagon bearing Morna and their household goods caught up. He wanted to see her face when she looked down at Thendara's walls and spires. She'd never been to any city larger than Nevarsin and had never seen anything like the Terran Zone. He felt as if he were seeing the world anew through the lens of her delight.

The edifices of metal and glass, now showing the effects of decades of harsh Darkovan winters, faced the beautiful old stone towers of Comyn Castle. Another place, he thought, he once never wanted to see again.

"What do you think?" He turned in his saddle.

Her mouth made an O of surprise. "Who would have thought there could be so many people in one place? Are we truly to live here?"

At first she had not believed his story, not to mention his adventures

since leaving for Nevarsin. In the end, however, she relented. No sane man, she said, could have made up such a tale. She did not care where he had come from or where he proposed to go. Like everyone else in her mountain village, loyalty and adaptability had been bred into her bones.

Jeram was happier than he could express that she had chosen to come with him. Their relationship had begun with shared comfort, a way to ease their loneliness, or so he had thought. When he had returned to Rock Glen at the close of the Council season, his heart had opened to her. Or perhaps he had discovered that he already loved her for her generous spirit, her honesty, her simple acceptance. He could face his new life in Thendara with confidence because she was at his side.

It began snowing again as they approached the Thendara gates. Only a few traces remained of the old encampment. Ulm and his son had long since returned to their own village with a line of chervines laden with seed stock, some precious metal tools, fine woolen cloth, and leather—riches enough to ensure a good life for years to come.

The Guardsmen at the gates recognized Jeram by name if not by face and admitted him with an almost embarrassing degree of courtesy. They made their way through the maze of cobbled streets to the old Terran Trade Zone, where Jeram had, with Marguerida's help, purchased a walled compound with a comfortable house, kitchen garden, and stabling for a couple of animals.

Morna's expression showed that he had guessed rightly at what would please her. A ball or a banquet at the Castle would be all very well for a treat, but she would derive far more joy from her own plot of herbs and vegetables beside her own house. Two servants, a married couple, greeted them at the front door and began unloading the cart and caring for the ponies. A fire burned merrily in the central room, and the aromas of fresh-baked nut bread and herb-laced stew hung lightly on the air.

Morna flew from one room to the next, exclaiming at the spacious kitchen, the chests filled with bed linens and blankets, the furnishings, the wide bed with its beautifully carved headboard.

"Tis big enough for a Dry Towns lord and all his wives!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, we must take care not to get lost in it," he laughed. Perhaps life in Thendara, in a home that blended Darkovan and off-world, might not be so bad. With Morna, he need never hide who he had been or pretend to be other than he was.

"Tomorrow or the next day, when you have rearranged everything to your satisfaction—" he began, sitting on the bed.

"Oh, surely it will take longer than that!" Slipping onto his lap, Morna put her arms around his neck. Her eyes gleamed.

He kissed her tenderly. "We must get you some city clothes. My friend Ethan comes from a tailoring family on Threadneedle Street."

"What would I do with such finery? Am I not well as I am, a simple country woman?"

Jeram shook his head, half in disbelief. What other woman would not jump at the chance for a new gown?

"You are exactly perfect," he told her, smiling, "but do it to please me, as a favor to my friend. Ethan is a proud man—all you Darkovans are—proud and stubborn. It would be a generous gift on your part to allow him to do this for me."

Morna frowned. "Yes, you talked about your work here, but I did not understand it. You will be teaching your
Terranan
ways to this man, Ethan? Why, if they have gone?"

"They will not stay gone forever." Jeram set her aside and walked over to the window. The bedroom was on the second story, and from here, he could look over the wall of their compound toward the old spaceport. It lay empty now, but for how long?

How long before the Federation's vicious civil war reached Darkover? How long before one side or another wanted the strategic advantage of Darkover's position on the galactic arm? Or some bureaucrat discovered a forgotten record about matrix science? How long before some band of refugees or smugglers decided the planet of the Bloody Sun was easy prey?

Jeram had not saved Darkover from trailmen's fever only to lose it to politicians or scavengers. His knowledge and skills ran beyond immunization protocols. He knew war, he knew men, and he knew communications equipment.

Morna stood beside him, soft and sturdy and loving. He put his arm around her, drawing her close.

"Not forever," he repeated, "but we will be ready for them." Starting with Ethan and his friends, perhaps working with the
laran-trained
youngsters Danilo would enlist, he would begin searching the skies, listening… and preparing a defense.

Let them come
, he repeated to himself.
Darkover will be ready.
.

The End.