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Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley
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of his own dead children, slain by World Wrecker assassins before Kierestelli was born.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That was a long time ago. Yes, any place where large numbers of people live together has problems, but I promise you that our daughter will not be exposed to them. I myself will keep her safe.”
There it was, his word on it. The word of a Hastur was still considered more binding than any oath.
Linnea sat very still, with the unearthly calm she had developed in her years at a Tower. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I believe you would.”
She got to her feet in a swirl of woolen skirts. “I must think about this. Such a decision ought not to be made carelessly or too quickly. Meanwhile, enjoy the hospitality of High Windward. The cooks have been rushing around like headless barnfowl since your arrival, concocting a dinner they believe worthy of you.” She smiled with a trace of mischievous spirit. “My kinsmen are also anxious to welcome you properly. Don’t worry, they keep to the old ways and will not press you about your business here.”
“I believe I can endure an evening of toasts and storytelling,” Regis said.
“Then,” she said, going to him and laying her fingertips on his arm, “let us go down to join them.”
5
T he next day brought fine weather, high clear skies of the crystalline brilliance of the mountains. Regis and Danilo went riding with Linnea and Kierestelli, the three adults on shaggy ponies, the girl on a beautiful silver-gray chervine. Regis noticed that although the little doe wore a halter, Kierestelli never touched the reins. Girl and animal moved as one, bound by a sympathy of mind.
Linnea took them down the path to the old, deserted village of the forge folk and showed them the caves where she had played as a child. Regis very much suspected that Kierestelli did the same. Once or twice, they came upon a herd of wild chervines who stared at them, unafraid, before bounding away. Kierestelli laughed and clapped her hands.
That evening, they took their dinner along with Kierestelli and her nurse in the suite of rooms that Linnea had grown up in. These were in the same wing as the chambers Regis and Danilo had been given. Regis realized that Linnea had a hand in that choice.
“I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable in the Royal Suite,” she said on the second night, as they sat near the fire over cups of warmed firi and bowls of pitchoo nuts. Kierestelli had just gone up to bed. “It’s huge and echoing and pretentious. They say it was built just in case a Hastur Lord should visit. I think it’s been used only once, and that by bandits.”
“You’re right, I’m much better where I am,” Regis answered. Replete with hearty country food, exercise in the cold air, and undemanding companionship, he was far more relaxed than in Thendara.
“I do admit,” he went on in a jovial mood, “there is a certain appropriateness in reserving the Royal Suite to the princes of the road, as outlaws are sometimes called.”
“The folk who dwelled here would have been far less amused at the prospect,” Danilo said.
Linnea glanced at him. “Yes, from all accounts that was a terrible time. The fellow’s name was Brynat Scarface, or something like that. You can still see the damage to the inner parapet where his men breached the walls.”
“Let us hope those lawless times never come again,” Danilo said.
Regis took a sip of his firi, finding it too sweet for his taste. The Terrans had brought more effective policing methods, and the Domains had been at peace with one another for decades. The closest they had come to war was during the Sharra business, when Beltran of Aldaran marched on Thendara with an army. Still, Regis reflected grimly, the decline of the Comyn created openings for ruthless men to take advantage of the weak. Petty thieves were one thing, even bandit kings like Brynat Scarface, but should a leader emerge, one bent on conquest and
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That was a long time ago. Yes, any place where large numbers of people live together has problems, but I promise you that our daughter will not be exposed to them. I myself will keep her safe.”
There it was, his word on it. The word of a Hastur was still considered more binding than any oath.
Linnea sat very still, with the unearthly calm she had developed in her years at a Tower. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I believe you would.”
She got to her feet in a swirl of woolen skirts. “I must think about this. Such a decision ought not to be made carelessly or too quickly. Meanwhile, enjoy the hospitality of High Windward. The cooks have been rushing around like headless barnfowl since your arrival, concocting a dinner they believe worthy of you.” She smiled with a trace of mischievous spirit. “My kinsmen are also anxious to welcome you properly. Don’t worry, they keep to the old ways and will not press you about your business here.”
“I believe I can endure an evening of toasts and storytelling,” Regis said.
“Then,” she said, going to him and laying her fingertips on his arm, “let us go down to join them.”
5
T he next day brought fine weather, high clear skies of the crystalline brilliance of the mountains. Regis and Danilo went riding with Linnea and Kierestelli, the three adults on shaggy ponies, the girl on a beautiful silver-gray chervine. Regis noticed that although the little doe wore a halter, Kierestelli never touched the reins. Girl and animal moved as one, bound by a sympathy of mind.
Linnea took them down the path to the old, deserted village of the forge folk and showed them the caves where she had played as a child. Regis very much suspected that Kierestelli did the same. Once or twice, they came upon a herd of wild chervines who stared at them, unafraid, before bounding away. Kierestelli laughed and clapped her hands.
That evening, they took their dinner along with Kierestelli and her nurse in the suite of rooms that Linnea had grown up in. These were in the same wing as the chambers Regis and Danilo had been given. Regis realized that Linnea had a hand in that choice.
“I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable in the Royal Suite,” she said on the second night, as they sat near the fire over cups of warmed firi and bowls of pitchoo nuts. Kierestelli had just gone up to bed. “It’s huge and echoing and pretentious. They say it was built just in case a Hastur Lord should visit. I think it’s been used only once, and that by bandits.”
“You’re right, I’m much better where I am,” Regis answered. Replete with hearty country food, exercise in the cold air, and undemanding companionship, he was far more relaxed than in Thendara.
“I do admit,” he went on in a jovial mood, “there is a certain appropriateness in reserving the Royal Suite to the princes of the road, as outlaws are sometimes called.”
“The folk who dwelled here would have been far less amused at the prospect,” Danilo said.
Linnea glanced at him. “Yes, from all accounts that was a terrible time. The fellow’s name was Brynat Scarface, or something like that. You can still see the damage to the inner parapet where his men breached the walls.”
“Let us hope those lawless times never come again,” Danilo said.
Regis took a sip of his firi, finding it too sweet for his taste. The Terrans had brought more effective policing methods, and the Domains had been at peace with one another for decades. The closest they had come to war was during the Sharra business, when Beltran of Aldaran marched on Thendara with an army. Still, Regis reflected grimly, the decline of the Comyn created openings for ruthless men to take advantage of the weak. Petty thieves were one thing, even bandit kings like Brynat Scarface, but should a leader emerge, one bent on conquest and
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