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Authors: Marion Z. Bradley

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BOOK: The Alton Gift
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"No!" Lorill Vallonde cried. "It is ours as a matter of principle!"

A renewed murmur sprang up, subsiding only when Dani shouted for order.

"We Keepers cannot let such a matter pass," Laurinda continued, "no matter what the Council decides. Jeram, you must accept that these matters are beyond your understanding.
Laran
abuse is a very serious issue. Ask
Dom
Lewis Alton what
laran
, acting through the Sharra matrix, did at Caer Donn. That is only a tiny fraction of its potential. It must be handled with utmost care and the highest integrity."

"I know a little about what happened with the Sharra matrix," Jeram said, once Dani motioned permission for him to respond. "I also remember the Battle of Old North Road. This lady and her husband were not the aggressors. They were the victims of an ambush, and I was among those who lay in wait for them, armed with blasters against swords. There are two sides to every story, and I think you should ask Marguerida to tell hers."

Another flurry of exclamations followed, quickly dying away.

"
Domna
Marguerida Alton," Dani said, "you stand accused of using your Gifts in a manner contrary to your oath. What have you to say in your own defense?"

Marguerida got to her feet. Droplets of sweat gleamed on her face in the light of the ceiling prisms. "The charges are true."

Stunned silence answered her. Then Hermes Aldaran, who had been glowering beneath the eagle banner of his Domain, lunged to his feet.

"Marja, you cannot be serious! Tell them the rest of the story!" He turned to the crowd. "
Vai domyn
! You all know that
Domna
Marguerida used her
laran
at the Battle of Old North Road. So did
Dom
Mikhail. Most of you, like me, were part of Regis Hastur's funeral cortege.
All of us
could have been killed, without Marguerida's Gift and her willingness to use it. Do you propose to punish her for defending us?"

Around the Chamber, heads nodded. Expressions turned somber, even those who had not been present at the battle. They all knew how easily the Council could have been decimated, if not entirely eliminated.

Before the pause became uncomfortably awkward, Hermes went on. "After
Domna
Marguerida helped defeat the Terran soldiers, what other choice did she have? Should she have allowed those men to return to their Federation commanders with the knowledge of what
laran
can do? Should we have turned Darkover into a military asset for the Federation?"

"No, never!"

"Zandru curse them—the likes of Belfontaine!"

A few people shook their heads, muttering. Hermes might have represented Darkover in the Federation, but he was an Aldaran, and the ancient suspicion still ran like a dark undercurrent through the Council.

When Rufus DiAsturien stepped forward to address the Council, however, the muttering subsided. Domenic braced himself, for the old lord had never been friendly to his family.

"As Keepers, then, what else would you have had
Domna
Marguerida do?"
Dom
Rufus demanded. "Murder those men as they lay helpless? Was this not a
compassionate
use of the Alton Gift, to allow them to return home with no greater loss than a few minutes of their memories?"

Domenic thought of Grandmother Javanne, serving her family and Domain, even as his mother had served the Comyn and Darkover. For each of them, there had been a price.

"I move that all charges be dropped!" Hermes said. Across the room, some scattered few raised their voices in agreement, but others grumbled in dissent. The Keepers sat like granite images.

Marguerida closed her eyes. Domenic caught the gleam of silvery

runnels on her cheeks. She grasped the railing of the enclosure for support.

"I thank you, but that does not change my decision to accept the judgment of the Keepers Council," Marguerida said. "My father once said to me that he was not proud of what he had done. I must share that sentiment, or risk falling prey to arrogance and pride.
Domna
Lau-rinda is right; our Gifts must never be used lightly or without precautions. I have entered into the minds of others, without consent, neither to help nor to heal but for my own purposes. I cannot deny it."

Laurinda signaled for a pause in the proceedings while the Keepers conferred together. "
Domna
Marguerida, we understand that you did not intend to misuse your Gift," Laurinda said a few moment later, "and also that life is filled with unexpected events and unpredictable crises. Under other circumstances, you would not be permitted to use your
laran
except under the supervision of a Keeper. We would have confined you to a Tower until we were certain that you had learned restraint and mastered your impulsiveness."

Clearly unable to speak, Marguerida nodded. Mikhail paled, but he held himself motionless. Domenic, thinking of what such an incarceration would mean to them, after all they had been through, felt sick at heart.

"This would not be an easy or lightly made decision," Laurinda said. "We understand that you have no vocation as a
leronis
. The separation from your family would be a terrible hardship. We also recognize that under other conditions you might have lived your entire life without any need to use the Alton Gift, and those very circumstances give rise to our gratitude to you, on the part of the Council, the Domains… and ourselves." She paused, glancing at Linnea Storn.

Linnea, who had been listening with an expression of calm interest, now spoke. "Fortunately, with the re-establishment of Comyn Tower, there will now be a working circle close by. One could say, since you are the chatelaine of the Castle, it lies within your own home. You need not go into exile in order to study further. Will you accept this judgement and place yourself under my direction as your Keeper?"

Marguerida lifted her chin. "I will."

Relief surged through Domenic. He had known Lady Linnea his entire life; she was firm but kind, and she loved Marguerida almost as a

daughter. Surely there could be no better outcome, unless the Keepers themselves reversed their decision.

"What judgment does the Keepers Council have for me?" Lew Alton's hoarse voice rang out. "My daughter was not alone in using
laran
to tamper with the memories of the Terran soldiers."

Domenic shuddered and saw the same anguish reflected on the faces of the assembly. Was there any man among them who had suffered or sacrificed more than his grandfather? Any man more deserving of peace during the time left to him?

Laurinda bowed her head. "Your own conscience has exacted a far heavier penalty than anything we could impose, Lord Alton. We have no concerns about your future actions. If it is your wish to return to St.-Valentine's-of-the-Snows, to spend your remaining years in peaceful contemplation, you are free to do so with our blessing."

 

After the session closed with the usual ceremonial formalities, Domenic's first thought was to find either his mother or Alanna. He wasn't sure which one had astonished him more. Just when he thought he understood everything and had steeled himself to make the honorable choice between one painful alternative and another, the situation had changed. A completely unforeseen outcome had arisen, and the people he had known all his life had behaved like strangers.

He was not able to leave right away. Half the Council gathered around him to talk about one thing or another. The Aldaran lords, the diAsturiens, his Uncle Gabriel, and even Kennard-Dyan stopped to offer congratulations for a job well done, as if Domenic were personally responsible for both the end of the plague and the dismissal of the charges against Marguerida. Had things gone otherwise, they would doubtless be blaming him now. People needed someone visible to either praise or condemn, and if a king were not available, a regent—even a former acting regent—must suffice.

The last of the court ladies took their leave, clucking like ruffled barnfowl and implying that they hoped to be celebrating his engagement to some other lady in the near future.

Domenic leaned on the railing of the Hastur enclosure, his head lowered, too drained in spirit to move. The Chamber was almost empty except for the Guardsmen and a few minor family members, who had been seated at the rear of the enclosures and now followed their more distinguished relatives out.

A footfall at the back of the Hastur section caught his attention. The telepathic dampers had been turned off, and he sensed Illona's nearness. His throat filled with a dozen things he longed to say to her, but all he could do was to gaze into her eyes.

"My poor Domenic," she murmured. "You are too severe with yourself. Even Regis Hastur and old Danvan were young and inexperienced once, and I doubt that either could have done better than you have."

Domenic shook his head. "I was lucky, nothing more. Jeram and my mother developed the serum in time, Danilo and Darius-Mikhail had the city and the outer encampments organized so it could be distributed, not to mention addressing the problems that brought those people here. My parents are both recovering."
Alanna released me from my promise
. "Things could have gone far worse."

"But they did not," she insisted. "When next year's troubles come, as they surely must, you will not face them alone. None of us—not Regent, not King, not Keeper—works in isolation. In the Tower, every member of the circle is vital to its success. Here in Thendara, in the Comyn Council, you have drawn together an extraordinary group of people to help you—Danilo, Lew, Jeram, Darius-Mikhail—"

"You."

She stopped, considering. "Well, yes."

"And now that my father has assumed his duties again and the season is over, you are all to go your separate ways. The Keepers have already been too long from their Towers."

He added, I
will miss you more than I have words to say
.

Illona looked away, her lips curving in a gentle smile. "I shall not tease you for being tired and grumpy. Let's leave so the servants can do their work. Your mother has planned a small family supper, and I'm to ensure your safe arrival."

Just as Domenic and Illona stepped through the double doors, a page trotted up with a message from Linnea Storn, asking Illona to come at once.

"Yes, of course." Illona turned to Domenic. "Since Lady Linnea is to be Keeper here, I must show her proper deference and not delay. Promise me you'll eat something and try not to worry."

She looked so beautiful and so severe at the same time, Domenic smiled despite himself. His heart ached at the prospect of a single day without her. He said he would do his best, and then she was gone, hurrying after the page in a swirl of gray skirts.

Domenic was half tempted to leave the Castle and spend the remaining daylight losing himself in the old Terran Trade City, but he had given Illona his word. As he climbed the stairs to the family quarters, he realized that he was too emotionally drained to think clearly. The Council session had left his head spinning. He could not imagine Thendara without Grandfather Lew or Alanna, or with his mother spending a good portion of her time in the newly reopened Comyn Tower. Yllana would depart for Castle Aldaran tomorrow, and Rory had his own life with the City Guards and Mali. Domenic tried to cheer himself up with the thought that Danilo would still be here, as would Darius-Mikhail. Perhaps now would be a good time to select a paxman, someone who would stay with him always and not be leaving on his own affairs.

And that
, his own voice whispered through his mind,
is the worst reason of all, to bind a man to your side because you are lonely
.

In his own chambers, his body-servant helped him change from formal court attire into more comfortable clothing, a loose shirt of blue
linex
, lightly embroidered around neckline and cuffs, vest and pants of butter-soft suede, and his oldest pair of house boots. A sword and dagger, each in its sheath and buckled on a belt, lay on the bed. The very notion that he must go armed in the Castle, in his own family's quarters, nauseated him. It took only a few minutes to splash his face and hands with cold water and cross the short corridor, leaving the sword belt behind.

Domenic found Grandfather Lew waiting for him in the family parlor, along with Yllana and Mikhail. The table had been set with a fine cloth and beeswax candles. Instead of summer's flowers, Manila's vase held a garland of yellow and orange leaves.

"So here we are," Lew said. "Marja has satisfied both the Council and the Keepers, Jeram has set his conscience to rest, Yllana can hardly wait to leave us again—"

"Grandpapa! What a thing to say!"

"—and Alanna will follow her own path and find her own happiness."

"I will miss you,
chiya"
Mikhail said, patting Yllana's hand.

"Oh, Papa, I have to grow up
sometime
. Terese and Belle are waiting for me! At least," Yllana paused, lacing her fingers through his, "I go with the knowledge that you will be all right."

"Grandfather Lew," Domenic said, taking his seat at the table, "you and I have had so little time since we came back to Thendara. Can you and Illona not delay your return for a little while?"

Lew gave him an odd look. "I must travel while the weather is kind to these old bones."

Marguerida emerged from her office and embraced them each in turn, lingering with her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Goodness, what a day! Can you imagine, so many surprises! How have you been holding up, Father?"

"As well as any man my age," Lew answered, "though I confess I am weary for the peace of St. Valentine's."

"Then it is good that all matters have been laid to rest, so that you may return with a light heart," Marguerida said, taking her seat.

The door swung open, and Alanna walked in, not with her old breathless flurry but with a new poise. "Pardon me," she said, curtsying to Lew and then Marguerida and Mikhail, "am I interrupting a private conversation?"

Marguerida said, "It is one in which I would gladly include you, child. Now that we are all gathered, we can begin."

The meal, served by a pair of servants Domenic had known all his life, began with mushroom soup, fragrant with herbs, followed by savory onion and cheese tarts, crusty nut bread, and fruit compote topped with clotted cream. After the first bite, no one spoke much. Domenic had not realized until that moment how hungry he was.

"I've always been amazed at how much
laran
energy you burn under those telepathic dampers," Marguerida said, just as if he'd spoken aloud. "Pass the bread, Yallnna dear."

"I wondered about that, too." Alanna picked up the basket at her elbow and offered it to Yllana. Yllana, looking puzzled at this act of courtesy, handed it to her mother.

"Is it true for normal—I mean people without
laran
—as well?" Alanna asked.

"I shouldn't think so," Mikhail said.

"Even when we are not speaking mind to mind, we are always in some degree of rapport with one another," Lew explained. "Our
laran
creates a web that binds us together. What touches one affects us all. It is not possible," he said directly to Alanna, "for any sorrow to be truly private."

"That is why we must be especially polite to one another," Alanna said with a trace of diffidence in her voice, as if asking for his approval. "Because we all need something—some place within ourselves—that is ours alone."

"Exactly," Mikhail said, smiling at her in approval.

Marguerida sighed. "Sometimes, I fear, that lesson takes a lifetime to learn."

Lew reached out to brush her wrist with his single hand. "We have all the time we need to do all the things we must. Not one minute more, not one minute less."

Domenic rubbed his temples, which had begun to throb. "I don't understand any of this. Grandfather Lew is leaving tomorrow and Alanna's going who knows where, Yllana's off to Aldaran again, Mother is to return to a Tower, even if it is in our back yard, and here you sit, talking
philosophy
!"

His words sounded peevish to his own ears, but no one laughed at him. Instead, Marguerida answered seriously.

"I know this will come as a surprise to you, Nico. It certainly did to me. I am feeling—I supposed the correct word is
relieved
—to have this whole matter done with. You see, in some part of my mind, I
knew
it was wrong to use the Alton Gift to control other people. When I was only a small child, I was overshadowed by that horrible old witch, Ashara. It took all my will and strength, not to mention a good deal of rescuing by Mikhail, to finally get her out of my mind. You would think, wouldn't you, that I would be the last person to use my
laran
on anyone else?"

Domenic stared at her, horror-struck. "Are you saying you have been
overshadowing
someone?"

"No, of course not!"

"Don't be silly, Domenic," Alanna said. "Auntie Marguerida would never do anything so vile. She may be bossy, but it's only because she loves us."

Something in Alanna's tone, so like her old impertinence, made Domenic want to laugh. The tension in the air evaporated. Even Yl-lana, who had endured a great deal of Alanna's bad temper, relaxed.

"No," Marguerida said, more slowly, "what I mean is that I may have been born here, but I was raised off-world. I never received the intensive training in
laran
that I would have here on Darkover. When I was surprised or frightened or sometimes just too tired to think straight, I reacted without thinking. I used the Alton Gift."

She paused, her golden eyes thoughtful. "In ordinary matters, I believe I manage my temper well enough. But the Alton Gift, because of its lethal potential, demands more than ordinary control. I'm looking forward to learning how to trust myself completely with it."

"So, you're not unhappy about having to study with Lady Linnea?" Domenic asked.

"Not at all. She's always been kind to me, and it will be fun learning from her," Marguerida said. "She's like me, a woman who had a career, and a very important one, and then gave it up for husband and family. Now she has returned to the work she was trained for, but in new and exciting ways. She not only helped to create the Keepers Council, she will have a Tower of her own, one that has not functioned for years!"

"I think you will understand one another very well," Mikhail said. "Linnea knows the pressures a woman of the Comyn must face. I suspect you will find in her a friend and ally, as well as a teacher."

Domenic turned to Alanna. She had been listening quietly to most of the conversation, her face reflecting her understanding. Mirrored in her eyes, he saw her own hopes, that she might find the strength to live with her visions, a purpose for her life, a use for her talents.

"Now, I suppose it is my turn," she said, looking up at him with a new straightforwardness. "Domenic, we could never have made each other happy. At least, I could not have made
you
happy, and no man

alive could have done for me what I needed to do for myself. To grow up."

She glanced at Lew, and again Domenic was struck by her obvious admiration for the old man.

"All my life," she explained, "I have gotten what I wanted by throwing childish tantrums. I behaved especially badly to you, Auntie Mar-guerida, and to you, my foster-sister, Yllana. No one took me seriously because I did not
deserve
their respect."

Alanna turned back to Domenic. "I could not understand why, when you were so clearly in love with Illona, you were still willing to marry me. The only reason that made sense was that you were too honorable to do otherwise. But as I felt the serum working in me, another thought came to me. You did not want me to die—you
cared
about me."

"Of course I did," he said. "I always have."

"If you cared," she went on, "then there must be something in me worth caring about. Something beyond bad temper and selfish behavior. It was then, I think, that I started paying attention to my other visions, the good ones."

BOOK: The Alton Gift
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