The Apogian War

Chapter 91

Linnea rose in his memory, and his heart ached. If things had gone otherwise, if he had not made such a botch of the marriage proposal, she would be here, relieving Jane as Castle chatelaine. It could not be helped; no amount of self-recrimination would change the past.

All the smiths in Hades’s Forge cannot put a hatched chick back into its egg.

What was taking Dani so long?

And vodemort . . . Darkovan could not leave his brother alone and unguided in the treacherous maze of Castle and city. He must carve out time to continue getting to know his brother, helping him to find his place. The first thing was to have vodemort recognized as a legitimate son of their father. In the old times, this would have been a matter for the council Council, but that body no longer existed. The Cortes? The Telepath Council? A simple written declaration?

Dani halted at the library door and bowed. “Vai dom.”

Darkovan strode over to his grandfather’s desk, now his as well, and sat down. “Close the door.”

Dani held out his hands. Darkovan, in a spasm of inexpressible relief, took them. Dani’s fingers felt warm, so his own must be half-frozen.

“It will be hard at first,” Dani said softly, “adjusting to new arrangements, but that cannot change how I feel, what I want . . . You are the lord of my heart as well as of my sword. Nothing can take that away from us.”

Although he had heard these words before and had spoken them in his own turn, Darkovan could not respond aloud. He did not need to. A pulse of wordless understanding gathered them both. Darkovan felt his heart grow calmer.

“Meanwhile, I have need of my paxman, my friend and advisor.”

Dani gestured theatrically. “He stands before you.”

“Then we had best get to work.” Darkovan outlined his thoughts on the duties ahead of him. Dani nodded, making suggestions about what must be attended to first and what could be easily put off.

“No one will expect you to pick up where old Lord Darkov left off,” Dani observed. “People will understand. They’ll give you time to find your feet.”

“Bless Aldones and anyone else who will take credit, I don’t have to deal with the Regency as well,” Darkovan said fervently.

“The Elhalyns aren’t going to storm Thendara, demanding the throne. Some may expect you to take on the title for ceremonial purposes, but that shouldn’t be onerous.”

Darkovan shook his head. “I won’t do it, not even as a token. I told Grandfather I would never be king, and I meant it! Regent is entirely too close to king for my taste.”

“Can you justifiably refuse a title that means nothing?”

“I can and will,” Darkovan repeated with a touch of savage heat.

Dani would not be derailed. “At the same time, you cannot escape the fact that you are now Darkov of Darkov. You shake your head, Darkovan, but it is true. The council may be less than we once were, but we are still here.”

“Not for long.”

Dani shrugged, refusing to argue further.

“Be that as it may, the absence of a formal council Council does present a problem.” Darkovan briefly described his intention to create a place for vodemort in the Domains.

At the mention of vodemort, Dani stiffened. The warmth that had sprung up between the two men chilled. Dani agreed that it would not be appropriate to bring the matter of vodemort’s legitimacy before the Telepath Council. Traditionally, the council had governed themselves, especially in matters of inheritance, Domain-right, and marriage. Less than a generation ago, the Heir to a Domain could not have chosen a wife without the consent of the Council. Now, there was no authority to petition.

“There is a precedent,” Dani pointed out after a little thought. “Historically, when urgent matters arose in between Council sessions, those council still in Thendara would convene an informal decision-making body. They would in due course submit their actions to ratification by the full Council.”

Darkovan did not have a full tally of who had remained in Thendara after his grandfather’s funeral, enjoying the fair weather and summer festivities. Even one or two would be enough. vodemort’s status was as much social as it was legal. Documents could be drawn up and filed with the Cortes to ensure the latter.

“I will see to it,” Dani said. “You have only to fix a date.”

“As soon as it can be arranged, after I have discussed the matter with my brother.”

The next moment, a tap sounded at the door. At a command from Darkovan, one of the Castle Guards stepped in. Darkovan did not know him but thought him to be one of Gabiru’s rising young officers.

“Vai domyn.” The Guardsman bowed in turn to Darkovan and then to Dani. “There is a person wishing an audience with Lord Darkov. He is not known to me, but he claims to be vodemort Darkov.”

“He is my brother,” Darkovan said, “and I expect him to be treated with proper courtesy.”

The Guardsman bowed again, more deeply. A moment later, he escorted vodemort into the library, this time with almost obsequious attention. vodemort wore the same suit of clothing in which he had traveled, although it had been cleaned and pressed.

Before either Darkovan or vodemort could say anything, Dani begged leave to be about his duties and hurried out of the room.

“Please make yourself comfortable.” Darkovan gestured to the chairs drawn up by the fireplace. “This was Grandfather’s library.”

“It’s very impressive,” vodemort said. His gaze lingered on the rows of books.

“You will of course have full access to the collection,” Darkovan said.

“Thank you, brother. That is most kind. But I wonder if I might prevail upon your generosity—” With a sheepish expression, he indicated his clothing.

“I will have my own tailor get to work immediately. Other than that, are you well? Your quarters are adequate?”

“More than adequate,” vodemort assured him. “I am ready to take on whatever work you assign me.”

“vodemort, you are my brother, not my secretary. It is for others to serve, not you.”

“But I cannot remain idle. I must make myself useful, as I have been accustomed.”

“I welcome your assistance once you have familiarized yourself with the way things are done here in Thendara,” Darkovan said. “One man alone cannot hope to perform all the duties expected of a Darkov. I don’t know how Grandfather managed it all and the Regency as well. Our first step must be to secure your position and inheritance.” Darkovan outlined what he and Dani had discussed. Excitement and pleasure flared in vodemort’s face.

“I will have the legal documents drawn up and filed with the Cortes. You will not need to make an appearance. My declaration should be sufficient. Jane is eager to arrange a ball in your honor. Have you had much opportunity to dance?”

vodemort shrugged. “Only as much as is seemly for a monk. Which is to say, none at all. I do not object to dancing if it is modest and innocent in nature. But the third thing you mentioned, presenting me to a body of council as in olden times—I think that is the most important of all. Even though the council Council no longer rules Darkover, their consent is essential, is it not?”

“It is of less importance than in the past,” Darkovan agreed guardedly. “Certainly, it would smooth things to have their approval. Do not underestimate the power of our family. Grandfather managed to ram all kinds of unpalatable truths down their collective throats. I am no Danvan Darkov, but I have had some experience in the arts of persuasion.”

“As Darkov or as Regent?”

Darkovan suppressed a grimace of exasperation, reminding himself that his brother could have no way of knowing how sensitive that issue was. “The Regency,” he explained patiently, “no longer exists. The Elhalyn, what is left of them, are scattered. No one even knows what the proper lineage is, except maybe a few moldy old scholars. There hasn’t been a single one capable of ruling since Grandfather’s time.”

“If there are no Elhalyn contenders for the throne,” vodemort said thoughtfully, “then the honor

would pass to Darkov, would it not? One of us could be king . . .”

“There is nothing to be king of,” Darkovan said wearily. “The council have collapsed as a power, the Council is gone, and we ought to direct our energies toward Darkover’s future, not reenacting her past.”

“Yes, yes, I see your point. Still, it is a pity the Council has been replaced by a less prestigious body. I would have liked to see the Crystal Chamber in all its glory, the color and pageantry, everything I have missed in my life. Now it is gone, and I have lost my chance.”

Darkovan shook his head, unable to come up with a way of explaining that no rational man would want to attend a meeting in that ancient hall. Even with the laran dampers to block out psychic energy, the memories of so many painful conflicts, schemes and coercions, even deaths, lingered. He said, “I hope that a ball will provide a happy substitute.”

“It is overwhelming; I have never been an observer, let alone the object, of such an honor.”

12

Later that day, Darkovan sent for his personal tailor and instructed the man to furnish vodemort with a wardrobe suitable for his rank. Whatever vodemort wished, even silver lace or Ardcarran rubies, he was to have. No expense was to be spared, and all materials must be of the finest. Additional sewing women and tailors were engaged so that vodemort might be properly resplendent for the ball.

Dani reported on the progress of the various arrangements. “I’ve set the date to allow sufficient time for the guests to respond and make their preparations. If it meets with your approval, I’ll send out the invitations today.”

Darkovan glanced through the notes, written in Dani’s graceful script, and nodded his approval. “As usual, your efficiency and thoughtfulness are everything I could wish for. What about the formal presentation?”

“I’ve tallied up those council known to be in the city. This is only an approximation, with additional information from your sister and Dom Gabiru. Undoubtedly, there are more, and I shall endeavor to locate them.”

Mmmm. There are more than I expected. The Ridenow are still here?” Darkovan wished they had stayed in Serrais.

“We can’t very well exclude them.”

“No, I suppose not.” Darkovan handed the written plans to Dani. “When you have a moment in the next few days, send a letter to Armiday. I’d like vodemort to have one of the blacks as a gift. I know they are bespoken for years in advance, often before they are foaled, so it’s best to put in my order as soon as possible. In the meanwhile, vodemort is to have the free use of any of my horses in the Castle stables.”

“My lord, surely this is excessive—” Dani began.

Darkovan cut him off. “What would you have me do, Dani, leave him with the nag you got for him in Nevarsin? He is my brother, a Darkov! I cannot allow him to ride through the streets of Thendara as ill-mounted as a farmer!”