The Shadow Matrix (48 page)

the chamber was a table that seemed to run for miles. She counted quickly, and found

it was set only for thirty, but she was certain there were leaves stored somewhere to

make it big enough for as many as a hundred. The chairs set around it were high-

backed and carved with lots of curliques, and looked uncomfortable.

The height of the ceiling dwarfed everything, and Margaret looked Up. To her surprise,

there was a mural overhead, painted with figures of the four gods of Darkover, one in

each quadrant. What an odd conceit, she thought, not really

liking the image of Zandru in his wintry hell looming over her.

"Is this a state occasion?" she whispered to her father.

"Not quite. I believe that Regis wishes to create an aura of formality in order to subdue

the raging sea of emotions." He swept his hand broadly around the room.

"I wish him luck. I can see that he wants to impress everyone, and show who is the

master here." She gave a little sigh, feeling the ache in her legs, and was suddenly too

tired to worry about Regis. "Is this like dinners you attended when you were Senator?"

• "Yes. But at least the food will be better, and there will not be a lot of speeches to

listen to."

"Did you hate it so much?"

"With Dio beside me, I did not mind, for she has a skill with people that I lack. She

could endure the greatest bore in the universe without flinching—I am sure she did

several times. It was only without her that it became unendurable."

"Well, I will try to be a satisfactory substitute, then." She had asked him about her

stepmother's health, but nothing had changed. If only she could find some way to cure

the woman, for Lew's sake, and her own. The desire to help burned in her, as-fresh and

hot as the day she had learned that Dio was dying. Then she realized that if she started

to think about it, she was going to fall into despair, and that seemed rather pointless. . '

•

Seeking something to distract her, Margaret looked across the huge room. She saw

Francisco Ridenow deep in discussion with Dyan Ardais. Javanne Hastur was talking

to Lady Linnea, but from the expression on her face, she was not giving the

conversation her full attention. Lady Marilla Aillard was watching Dyan with her

frequent concerned expression, and beside her, Liriel Lanart stood calmly. They made

quite a contrast since Liriel was as tall as she was round and Marilla was truly tiny.

She heard the clearing of a throat behind her and turned around. Mikhail Hastur,

wearing a dark rose-colored tunic with silver braid, stood in the doorway. Each of his

hands was held by a girl, and beside him stood a young man with a nervous

expression. This must be Emun Elhalyn and his sisters, though which of the girls was

which Margaret had

no idea. Still, it was a great relief to see him with these children instead of Gisela

Aldaran.

Mikhail smiled at her, and she thought her heart would come right out of her chest.

Then he stepped forward, gave her a decent bow, and looked up into her eyes as if he

were a thirsty man who had just seen the rivers of the world open at his feet. They

stood staring at each other, unaware that anyone else existed.

Then, with a visible start, Mikhail came back to the present and remembered his duties.

"Cousin Marguerida, may I present to you the
Damisela
Miralys Elhalyn, and her sister

Valenta, and their brother Emun. Children, this is
Domna
Marguerida Alton."

Emun made a rather clumsy bow, and beads of sweat popped out on his narrow brow.

Miralys made a wonderful curtsy, as if she had been doing it all her life, but Valenta

just studied her, almost rudely, before she bent her knees a fraction. Then the younger

girl looked up at Mikhail, who was still distracted, and nodded as if some mystery had

now been solved to her satisfaction.

Valenta released her grip on Mikhail's hand and stepped forward. "I know all about

you," she said quietly.

"Do you?" Margaret was not sure what to make of this. The young girl's eyes held an

expression that was disquieting, and she seemed to be examining Margaret with great

care. It was a much more intense look than was considered polite on Darkover, but

having stood up to a thesis committee at University, she did not feel any urge to avoid

the dark eyes of the child. "That is interesting, because, quite truthfully, I do not think I

know all about myself."

Valenta grinned and her dark eyes danced with mischief. "You are the one who is

studying to be a
leronis
at Neskaya."

"It is true that I have been at Neskaya learning how to use my
laran,
but I am not going

to be a
leronis,
Valenta. If I am fortunate, I might, in a few years, become a decent

technician. But probably not."

"Why not?"

"I am rather old to be beginning to study matrices, Valenta, and besides, being a

leronis
would not suit me at all." The idea of spending the rest of her life surrounded

by those eerie stones was intolerable, but she did not say this.

"Well, I want you to tell me all about it, because I think it would suit me perfectly.

They are going to send me off to Arilinn next year, and you were there this summer,

weren't you? Will I like it?"

Before Margaret could frame a suitably tactful reply, Danilo Hastur entered the room,

with Regis and his paxman close behind. Emun Elhalyn brightened visibly when he

saw young Dani, his solemn expression fading. But Dani had eyes only for Miralys,

and she for him.

Mik, these youngsters are in love.

Yes, I know, and so does everyone else in the room. It would be a complete scandal

before all these people if Dani were not a complete gentleman, and Mira a perfect

little lady. I told you they were making sheep-eyes at each other.

You did, but until I saw it, I didn't realize how serious it was. Is that how we look to

other people?

Oh, very likely, Marguerida. Damn, but I am glad to see you. And that gown is quite

splendid! You look magnificent!

Why, thank you, kind sir! And where is your comely companion of earlier this

afternoon.

Gisela will be here all too soon. I managed to escape her attentions by insisting that I

had to escort the children. I have never hidden behind a woman's skirts in my life, and

now I am cowering behind two little girls. Isn't that a fine jest?

No, not particularly. Shall I intervene on your behalf and tell the bitch to go to the

coldest of Zandru's hells?

Much as I would enjoy that, I think not. Things are difficult enough without either of us

displaying the usual family temperament.
"Uncle Lew, you must be glad to have

Marguerida back where you can keep an eye on her. Rafaella told me that she had a

run-in with some bandits on the way to Neskaya. Do you know anything about that?"

"Marguerida did say she had encountered bandits on the journey to Neskaya, but thus

far has not given me any details." He sounded amused rather than annoyed.

Margaret's heart sank. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss the matter of the

brigands. She had sworn to herself that she would never mention the matter to anyone,

and she was quietly furious at Rafi for letting the cat out of the bag. What could she

say? She stood in silence, as her father and Mikhail looked at her expectantly.

Miralys had left Mikhail's side and was talking to Dani and Emun, seeming entirely in

her element. Then there were voices in the corridor, and Margaret recognized Donal

Alar's piping tones. But there were others as well, and there was no mistaking the dark

and seductive voice of Gisela Aldaran.

Mikhail, looking like a man hunted by a pack of wolves, moved to Margaret's side

quickly, all questions about bandits going out of his mind. She felt a sense of relief,

and for a moment she was actually grateful that Gisela's presence had distracted him.

"You don't mind, do you? A few more minutes' respite from our cousin would be a

blessing."

"Another woman's skirts?" She slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow, even

though she knew that the gesture would make Javanne angry. She was almost enjoying

herself now. Her mood shifted, the depression fleeing, and what replaced it was a

feeling of ease that she wished she could put in a box and keep forever. Margaret knew

that part of it was the presence of her father, steady and certain. And she could endure

anything so long as Mikhail was by her side.

Yes, but the only one I really want to
—

Mikhail! Behind my skirts is one thing, but under them is quite another!

True, but can you blame me? You are the most beautiful woman in the world, perhaps

in the entire universe. I have remembered our kiss on the terrace last summer so many

times.

Stop! My face feels as if it is the color of a Keeper's robe!

Nonsense. You have just a hint of roses on your cheeks, nothing more, and no one

would suspect that we were entertaining unspeakable thoughts for one another.

"Mikhail, I met your bird when I came into the stableyards—or rather he flew onto my

shoulder and nearly knocked me, off my horse. What a beautiful creature. We have

some similar birds on Thetis—not quite so large, as I remember, but just as handsome.

It made me a bit homesick."

"Beautiful, and a real nuisance. He seems to have decided that I belong to him, and no

amount of discouragement does any good."

Donal Alar sped into the room just at that moment, followed with more dignity by his

brother Damon, and his parents. Behind them came Gisela Aldaran with an older man

who must be her father. There was another man as well, whose features were much like

the father's, and she guessed he must be a son. She tightened her fingers on Mikhail's

arm for a second, then drew her hand away.

They stood, shoulder to shoulder, their heights nearly equal, not touching but intimate

all the same. It felt completely right, and when Lew Alton stepped beside her,

Margaret* experienced the sense of being protected that she had longed for all her life.

She could face anything with her father and Mikhail beside her. So why was her heart

beating rapidly, and her mouth so dry?

Gisela halted, glared at them with her vivid green eyes,

then forced her mouth into a smile that held no warmth.

"Hello, Mikhail," she began in her sultry voice, clearly in

tending to ignore Margaret. She moved toward him. Mik

hail almost shrank back, then seemed to remember that he

was a Hastur, and gave her a courteous nod. v

Margaret studied the other woman, noticing the fine silk dress in a deep garnet color

that fell in graceful folds around the leather slippers on her feet. The sleeves of the

gown stopped above the elbow, so the smooth skin of her arms and soft hands were

clearly visible. On one wrist she wore a thick bracelet of gold, set with red stones, and

for an instant Margaret was surprised. Then she remembered that Gisela was a widow,

not a maiden, and had children. Still, the thing on her arm looked nothing like the few

catenas
wristlets she had seen before. Perhaps it had been made off-world.

"Gisela, Robert, Lord Aldaran." Then Mikhail seemed at a loss how to continue.

"Excuse me, but I have not had an opportunity to greet my sister Ariel. Uncle Lew, will

you do the honors."

"Of course I will, Mikhail."

Faintheart!

True, my darling Marguerida, true. Now you see what a feckless fellow I really am. I

would rather face a hundred bandits than Gisela right now. Besides, they are Lew's

relations, not mine, so it is more proper.

I never heard such sophistry in my life, beloved!

If Lew Alton was nonplussed by Mikhail's abrupt departure, he did not show it.

Margaret watched as Mikhail walked over to greet Ariel and Piedro, giving every

appearance of a solicitous brother, and Lew smiled his grave smile.
"Dom
Damon, may

I present my daughter, Marguer-ida Alton. Marguerida,
Dom
Damon Aldaran, and his

son, Robert Aldaran, and his daughter, Gisela."

This clearly did not suit Gisela, and she stiffened, aware she had been subtly rebuffed.

Her face froze, as she tried to find some way to recover. She moved her arm sharply,

and the bracelet caught in the delicate silk of her dress, snagging the fabric and making

her scowl.

"Lord Aldaran, Lord Robert, Lady Gisela," Margaret said formally, and made a decent

curtsy.

Gisela had managed to release the bracelet from the cloth now, and she lifted her face

with a feral smile. "So you are Marguerida Alton. We have heard so many stories about

you." She stared at the mitted hands quite rudely.

"Stories? I cannot imagine why. My life has been quite unremarkable, overall."
Or at

least until I came to Dark-over,
she added silently.