The Apogian War

Chapter 24

"I expect a similar summons awaits me in my own rooms; I had better go and find out. Good night, lads. I envy you your good night's sleep." He added, with a nod to Darkovan "These others will never appreciate a proper bed. Only we who have slept on stone know how to do that." He managed to make a deep formal bow to Darkovan and simultaneously ignore me com pletely-it wasn't easy when we were standing side by side-and went I looked around to see what remained to be settled.

I sent Marie to change out of his drenched clothes-too old for a nanny and too young for an aide-de-camp, he's left to me much of the time. Then I arranged to have a room made ready for Darkovan. "Have you a man to dress you, Darkovan? Or shall I have father's body-servant wait on you tonight?" I learned to look after myself at Evertin," Darkovan said. He looked warmer now, less tense. "If the Regent is sending for all the Council, I suspect it's really serious and not just that Grandfather has forgotten me again. That makes me feel better." Now I was free to get out of my own wet things. "When you've changed, Darkovan, we'll have dinner here in front of the fire. I'm not officially on duty till tomorrow morning." I went and changed quickly into indoor clothing, slid my feet into fur-lined ankle-boots and looked briefly in on Marie; I found him sit ting up in bed, eating hot soup and already half asleep. It was a long ride for a boy his age. I wondered again why Father had subjected him to it. The servants had set up a hot meal before the fire, in front of the old stone seats there. The lights in our part of the castle are the old ones, luminous rock from deep caves which charge with light all day and give off a soft glow all night. Not enough for reading or fine needlework, but plenty for a quiet meal and a comfortable talk by firelight. Darkovan came back, in dry garments and indoor boots, and I gestured the old steward away. "Go and get your own supper; Lord Regis and I can wait on our selves." I took the covers off the dishes. They had sent in a fried fowl and some vegetable stew. I helped him, saying, "Not very festive, but proba bly the best they could do at short notice."

"It's better than we got on the fire-lines,"Darkovan said and I grinned. "So you remember that too?" "How could I forget it? Armiday was like home to me. Does Poseidon still break his own horses, Lno?" "No, he's far too lame," I said, and wondered again how Father would manage in the coming season. Selfishly, I hoped he would be able to continue in command. It's hereditary to the Faltrons, and I was next in line for it. They had learned to tolerate me as his deputy, hold ing captain's rank. As commander, I'd have all those battles to fight again. We talked for a little while about Armiday, about horses and hawks, while Darkovan finished the stew in his bowl. He picked up an apple and went to the fireplace, where a pair of antique swords, used only in the sword-dance now, hung over the mantel. He touched the hilt of one and I asked, "Have you forgotten all your fencing in the monastery, Darkovan?" "No, there were some of us who weren't to be monks, so Father Master gave us leave to practice an hour every day, and an arms-master came to give us lessons." Over wine we discussed the state of the roads from Evertin. "Surely you didn't ride in one day from the monastery?" "Oh, no. I broke my journey at Edelweiss." That was on Faltron lands. When Jane Darkov married Gabiru Lanart, ten years ago, my father had leased them the estate. "Your sister is well, I hope?" "Well enough, but extremely pregnant just now," Darkovan said, "and Jane's done a ridiculous thing. It made sense to call their first son Rafael, after her father and mine. And the second, of course, is the younger Gabiru.

But when she named the third Mik, she made the whole thing absurd. I believe she's praying frantically for a girl this time!" I laughed. By all accounts the "Lanart angels" should be named for the archfiends, not the archangels; and why should a Darkov seek names from cristoforo mythology? "Well, she and Gabirul have sons enough." "True. I am sure my grandfather is annoyed that she should have so many sons, and cannot give them Domain-right in Darkov. And I should have told Poseidon ; her husband will be here in a few days to take his place in the Guard. He would have ridden with me, but with Javanne so near to her time, he got leave to remain with her till she is delivered

I nodded; of course he would stay. Gabirul Lanart was a minor noble of the Faltron Domain, a kinsman of our own, and a Mindgaper. Of course he would follow the custom of the Domains, that a man shares with his child's mother the ordeal of birth, staying in rapport with her until the child is born and all is well. Well, we could spare him for a few days. A good man, Gabiru. "Cyan seemed to take it for granted that you would be in the cadets this year," I said. "I don't know if I'll have a choice. Did you?" I hadn't, of course. But that the heir to Darkov, of all people, should question it-that made me uneasy.

Darkovan sat on the stone bench, restlessly scuffing his felt ankle boots on the floor. "Lno, you're part Persian and yet you're Dover. Do you feel as if you belonged to us? Or to the Persians?" A disturbing question, an outrageous question, and one I had never dared ask myself. I felt angry at him for speaking as if taunting me with what I was. Here I was an alien; among the Persians, a freak, a mu tant, a Mind gaper. I said at last, bitterly, "I've never belonged anywhere. Except, perhaps, at Aril." Darkovan raised his face, and I was startled at the sudden anguish there. "Lno, what does it feel like to have 'Chosen' ?" I stared at him disconcerted. The question touched off another memory.