The Apogian War

Chapter 80

I stuffed it into the inside pocket of my riding cloak and looked at Marjorie. "Can we get out unseen?" "That's easy enough, word won't have reached the stables. We'll get horses, too." Marjorie led us out a small side door near the stables. Most of the stablemen were sleeping; she roused one old man who knew her as Ker miac's ward. It was eccentric, perhaps, for her to set forth at nightfall with some of Beltran's honored guests, but it wasn't for an old horse

te question Most of them had seen me with her and had heard the castle on that a marriage was being arranged. If he had heard of the quarrel, this would have accounted for it in his mind, that Marjorie and I had away to marry against Beltran's will. I'm sure this ac counted for the looks of empathy the old groom gave us. He found mot fie in all. I thought tandily of the escort from Comyn, who had come here with me I could order them to go with Regis and Danilo, protect them. But that would make a stir. Marjorie said softly, "If they don't know where you've gone, they cannot be made to tell, and that decided me. If we rode hard till moming, and Beltran's guards slept as I had in sured they would, we might be beyond pursuit. We led our horses to wand the gates, the groom let us out. I lifted Marjorie to her saddle, madied myself to mount. She looked back with a faint sadness but, see ing me watching, she smiled bravely and turned her face to the road. I tumed to Regis, holding him for a moment in kinsman's embrace. Would I ever see him again? I thought had turned my back on Comyn, yet the tie was stronger than I knew. I had thought him a child, easily flattered, easily swayed. No. Less so than I was myself. I told myself firmly not to to be morbid, and kissed him on the cheek, let ting him go. "The Gods ride with you, bredu," I said, turning away. His hand clung to my arm for a moment, and in a split second I saw, for the last time, the frightened child I had taken into the fire-lines; he remembered, too, but the very memory of conquered fear strengthened us both. Still, I could not forget that he had been placed in my charge. I said hesitantly, "I am not sure... I do not like letting you take the road of most danger, Regis." He gripped my forearms with both hands and looked straight into my eyes. He said fiercely, "Lew, you too are the heir to your Domain! And I have an heir, you don't! If it comes to that, better me than you!" I was shocked speechless by the words. Yet they were true. My father was old and ill, Marius, so far as we knew, was without laran. I was the last male Alton. And it had taken Regis to remind me!" This was a man, a Hastur. I bowed my head in acquiescence, know ing we stood at that moment before something older, more powerful than either of us. Regis drew a long breath, let go of my hands, and said, "We'll meet in Thendara, if Gods will it, cousin." I knew my voice was shaking. I said,

"Take care of him, Dani." He answered, "With my life, Dom Lewis," as they swung into their saddles. Without a backward glance, Regis rode away down the path, Danilo a pace behind him.

I mounted, taking the opposite fork of the road, Marjorie at my side. I thanked all the gods I had ever heard of, and all the rest I hadn't, for the time I had spent with maps on my northward journey. It was a long way to Arilinn, through some of the worst country on Darkover, and I wondered if Marjorie could endure it. Overhead two of the moons swung, violet-blue, green-blue, shedding eft light on the snow-clad hills. We rode for hours in that soft night light. I was wholly aware of Marjorie: her grief and regret at leaving her childhood home, the desperation which had driven her to this. She must never regret it! I pledged my own life she should not regret. The green face of Idriel sank behind the crest of the pass, above us was a bank of cold fog, stained blood color with the coming sunrise. We must begin to look somewhere for shelter, I was sure the hunt would be up soon after daylight. I was enough in contact with Marjorie to know when her weariness became almost unendurable. But when I spoke of it, she said, "Another mile or so. On the slope of the next hill, far back from the roadway, is a summer pasture. The herdwomen have probably taken their beasts down into the valleys, so it will be empty." The herdwomen's hut was concealed within a grove of nut trees. As we drew near my heart sank, for I could hear the soft lowing of herd an imals, and as we dismounted I saw one of the women, barefoot in the melting snow, her hair long and tangled around her face, clad in a rag ged leather skirt. Marjorie, however, seemed pleased. "We're in luck, Lew. Her mother was one of my mother's people." She called softly, "Mhari!" The woman turned, her face lighting up. "Domne Marguerida!" She spoke a dialect too ancient for me to follow; Marjorie answered her softly in the same patois. Mhari grinned widely and led us into the hut. Most of the inside was taken up with a couple of dirty straw pallets on which an older woman lay, entangled with half a dozen small chil dren and a few puppies. The only furniture was a wooden bench. Mhari gestured to us to sit on it, and ladled us out bowls of hot, coarse nut porridge. Marjorie almost collapsed on the bench; Mhari off her riding-boots. ame to draw "What did she say to you, Marjorie? What did you tell her?" "The truth. That Kermiac was dead, that on his deathbed he had promised me to you, and that you and Beltran had quarreled, so we are going into the lowlands to marry. She has promised that neither she nor her friend, nor any of the children, will say a word of our being here." Marjorie took another spoonful of the porridge. She was almost too weary to lift her spoon to her mouth. I was glad to down my portion, to