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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

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See! I told you so, Mik!

You did, but it is not kind to remind me of it. Are you always going to be right? Fifty or

sixty years of marriage to a woman who is always right could get a little tiresome.

Then I shall just have to try to be wrong at least once a week. I can't have you getting

annoyed with me!

Never, not in a million years,
caria.

If Liriel noticed this rapid byplay, she gave no indication. She went on with her

descriptions. "Robert Aldaran has been a voice of reason, which has given me a very

high opinion of him. Of course, when Robert hears the details of your adventures, he

may change his ways. If I were to

be entirely candid, I would say that everyone is having a fine time being upset—

everyone except Ariel, who is resting nicely after the arrival of Alanna. No one is in

the least bored, I assure you!" Liriel smiled broadly, her eyes alight with humor.

"I am not surprised," Lew commented. "We are a very passionate family."

"Mother is sure this is all your fault, Uncle Lew. She has hinted darkly at some

Terranan plot, that the voice was only some manner of technology, and all of it done in

order to whisk Mik and Marguerida away."

"My ... my fault! Of all the ... Terranan plot?" Lew sputtered to a halt, and a look of

interest began to play across his face. "I had not given Javanne credit for so much

imagination."

Marguerida slipped her arm through his and smiled. "There, there, Father. Don't take it

too much to heart. We will get everything straightened out eventually."

Lew gave his daughter a strange look. "You seem to be very serene, daughter. It's

almost . . . unnatural. I expected you to be more emotional, now that you are about to

be a mother. But, tell me, just how do you imagine we are going to straighten things

out?"

Marguerida merely shrugged, looking beatific until she erupted into a brief fit of

coughing, while everyone laughed.

Lew lifted his proud head toward the rafters. "Women! I will never understand them,

and the gods know I have tried!" Then he smiled at Marguerida, his face lighting up.

"But if you can give my Diotima back to me, child, I shall be eternally in your debt."

"I will, Father, I will," Marguerida promised.

35

Mikhail and Marguerida had come back to*Thendara a tenday after Midwinter to a

chilly reception. Things had not improved appreciably during the ensuing week, when

they had recounted their adventures several times to Regis, to
Dom
Gabriel and Lady

Javanne, and to Danilo Syrtis-Ardais. Everyone else had been kept in the dark, except

for the undeniable fact that they were now husband and wife. This had led to several

harrowing encounters with Gisela Aldaran, which Mikhail wanted to forget.

The problem, he thought, was that there were just too many strong personalities

residing in Comyn Castle, all of them bent on having their way, no matter what.

Mikhail, somewhat refreshed after the quiet time at Samel's inn, was inclined to be

amused, but his wife's nerves were strained to the limit by the constant expressions of

temper and ill-feeling.

There was little, actually, to be happy about, other than that they were now safe.

Javanne had at first refused to speak to Mikhail, but when she began, she would not

stop. She pleaded, raged, cajoled, and snapped. It was as if the pent-up bitterness of a

lifetime was spewing out, vicious and furious. She blamed Marguerida for leading him

astray—at least this was the most frequent of her embarrassing pronouncements.

Even the matter of where they should rest their heads had been argued over. His

mother, insisting that the marriage was not valid, had wanted her son to continue to

reside in the family suite, and Marguerida in the Alton apartment. It was a silly thing, a

minor squabble, but Mikhail had put an end to it by announcing he was still Elhalyn

Regent, and would take his wife to that part of Comyn Castle. This pleased no one

except Miralys and Valenta,

both deeply distressed by the death of their brother. The young women were tearful,

and clung to him in a way that touched him profoundly.

Now he was sitting in Regis' shabby study, waiting to hear why he had been

summoned. His uncle had called the meeting without any warning, and he had no idea

what he wanted. The air in the normally pleasant room was charged with unspoken

emotions, and he anticipated the worst.

Javanne, he thought, looked pinched and old for the first time in his memory. There

was a glitter in her eyes, an expression of near hatred, whenever she looked at him or

Marguerida, that almost seemed to belong to another person. This saddened him more

than anything else. He wanted to be reconciled with her, for he knew now how truly he

loved and respected this woman, but Mikhail suspected that in her present temper, it

was an impossible hope.

Lew had been right—his gift from Varzil changed everything. Not for the better either,

he concluded grimly, looking at the faces of both his parents. Javanne was seething,

and
Dom
Gabriel looked like a man driven to the brink. He felt a curious empathy for

his father, an emotion he had never felt before. Mikhail had never imagined how

difficult it must have been to be married to Javanne all these years. He had long

regarded
Dom
Gabriel as a rather dull fellow, but now, as if he were seeing him in a

completely new light, he recognized him to be a person who was both more intelligent

and more courageous than he had ever believed.

Regis was sitting behind his desk, drumming his fingers against the wood. The strain

of the past days showed in his face as well. Beneath the white hair, his brow was lined,

and his eyes looked tired. Regis, who rarely raised his voice, had shouted a number of

times in Mikhail's hearing, and he knew that his patience must be worn thin. Lady

Linnea was beside him, looking as cross as Mikhail had ever seen her. Then she

glanced at Mikhail, and a shadow of a smile graced her mobile mouth.

Lew Alton came into the room and took a seat beside Mikhail. He appeared

untroubled, and Mikhail took heart from his expression. Marguerida, who was sitting

on Mikhail's other side, leaned forward to share a long look with

her father, then relaxed back into her chair. Mikhail wondered what had passed

between them in that moment. Then he looked at Danilo Syrtis-Ardais, aloof and

unperturbed, standing behind Regis' chair. Of all the people in the room, he alone

appeared unconcerned. Indeed, there was a slight sparkle in his pale eyes, as if he

knew something pleasant, some secret he was enjoying.

Mikhail realized that something was going to be decided at last, and he felt a relief in

that. And at least there were no Aldarans present, only family. He would be pleased if

he never had to see any member of the Aldaran clan again, except Robert, who was

behaving like the sensible man that he was. He silently blessed him, and his own

brother Rafael as well. If Rafael had not kept Gisela company, he was sure she would

have gone after either him or Marguerida with a knife.

Javanne Hastur cleared her throat and began to speak. "I have hit upon a solution to

this whole nonsense, and I am only surprised no one else has thought of it sooner.

Have this farce of a marriage annulled immediately. It is clear to me that if Marguerida

is really almost two months pregnant, as Liriel has assured me she is, then Mikhail

cannot be the father. She did not arrive in Thendara until just before Midwinter! That

makes the marriage invalid—as if it were not already, since neither I nor Gabriel gave

our permission." She glared at Lew, as if she suspected he had been behind the whole

thing. He returned her look so solemnly that Mikhail almost chuckled. His father-in-

law had turned out to be a valuable ally, and a good friend as well.

Regis looked wearily at his sister. "Don't be a fool! You are the only person who has

heard the tale who insists it is a fable, that Mikhail and Marguerida are not telling the

truth as they experienced it."

"Then I am the only one who realizes that she somehow arranged all this—perhaps

with the help of Rafe Scott!" Javanne's voice was shrill, and there were blotches of red

on her cheeks. Mikhail could see her hands curl into claws, and tremble.

"Please, my dear,"
Dom
Gabriel began, trying unsuccessfully to calm her.

"I will not be silenced! You may be beguiled by this

incredible story, but I am not! Marguerida is too ambitious to be . ..."

"I think you speak of your own ambitions, not Marguerida's, Javanne," Regis said

quietly.

His sister responded with a look that should have turned him to stone. "Can't you see

that she has Mikhail wrapped around her finger, and that she must not be allowed to

rule through him!"

"Mother, stop it! You insult me as well as my wife. The Elhalyn kingship has no real

power, so even if I were the spineless weakling you are making me out to be, it would

not matter." Mikhail was surprised by the bitterness in his voice, then ashamed at

himself. He should have more control.

Javanne turned on him, almost spitting in her fury. "You cannot sit there with that

thing
on your hand and pretend you expect to sit complacently on the Elhalyn throne.

Regis must declare you his final heir, and you must be guided by wise council to

succeed him." Her rage vanished and she gave a half smirk, as if she had settled the

matter to her own satisfaction, and assumed that everyone would agree to it.

Everyone was aghast, then acutely embarrassed. The mask had fallen away at last, and

Javanne Hastur's scheme to govern Darkover through her son lay revealed. Mikhail

shook his head. "I have never been guided by you before, Mother. Surely you cannot

imagine I will be now or in the future."

"You would have been, if Marguerida had not seduced you."

This was too much, and his wife began to laugh, and then guffawed until huge tears

rolled down her cheeks. Six people looked at her in astonishment,, while Mikhail had

to struggle to keep himself from joining in her merriment. When she finally got herself

in hand, Marguerida wiped her streaming &yes with the edge of her sleeve and said,

"Forgive me, Aunt. I have never seduced anyone in my life, and the words struck me . .

. oh, dear." She went off into a fresh stream of giggles, while Javanne simmered in her

chair.

"You don't think much of me, do you, Mother?"

"Of course I do—you are my son!"

"But you do not think I am fit to rule anything without your guidance."

Javanne's expression hardened and her eyes had a dangerous sparkle. "I know what

needs to be done, unlike the rest of you."

"You have waited years for the opportunity to become the power behind the throne,

haven't you, Mother? You failed with your brother, but imagined you might succeed

with me. That is why you have held Regis to his oath, and kept him from giving Dani

his rightful inheritance. And when Marguerida appeared, all your intrigues were

ruined. I am sorry, truly I am." Nothing he said seemed to reach her.

"Mikhail, that is more insightful than anything I have heard you say before," Regis

said before Javanne could reply.

"Yes, I suppose it is." He lifted his hand, gloved now, like his wife's, to avoid

inadvertent contact. "Varzil was a Ridenow and an empath, and I seem to have learned

something of that from wearing this. Not that one really needs any Gift to recognize

my mother's thwarted ambitions." He caught the stricken look in his uncle's eyes. "No,

the ring has not made me kinder. Sorry, Uncle, but too much has happened to me."

"Yes, it has. I had my moment, when I bore the Sword of Aldones, but it was only that

—a moment. I surrendered my burden, but you cannot put yours aside, ever. I know

you will not challenge me, for you are too honorable for that, no matter what my sister

may hope. But we must settle the matter, because there are others, right here in the

Castle, who would intrigue to embroil you in some rebellion or another. I cannot

assume that you would be wise enough to resist them." Regis shook his head. "That is

not a reflection on your character, Mikhail, just an understanding of human nature."

"I did not ask to receive this matrix, but I think we all have to accept that I have it, now

and forever. I can hardly toss it aside, can I?" Mikhail let his shoulders sag a little.

Then he looked around the room and realized that the immediate future of Darkover

was going to be decided by the people in this room. For a moment, he felt very young

and out of his depth. The emotion passed, and a certain

calm descended on him. Whatever the outcome, he would endure it, even though it

likely meant occupying the Elhalyn throne for the rest of his days.

"That is the most sensible thing I have heard since I came into this room,"
Dom

Gabriel growled. "Stop your demons, woman! You aye plaguing us all."

BOOK: The Shadow Matrix
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