“Whether we chose rightly or not, we are part of the Empire now,” Regis said. “If we had refused permission for them to build their spaceport here in Thendara, they would have gone elsewhere. Caer Donn was bad enough, but what if they had chosen Shainsa? Would the Dry Town lords, who have never observed the Compact, have hesitated to trade for blasters and worse?”
Danilo drew in a quick, horrified breath. Danvan masked his own reaction better. In a flash, Regis understood that his grandfather had indeed considered the possibility. As long as the Terrans could be restricted to Thendara, could be monitored and regulated, then the possibility of imported, illegal weaponry was minimized. After the Sharra disaster and the destruction of the Terrans’ secondary spaceport at Caer Donn, the Empire officials had reluctantly agreed to abide by the Compact. How long would that memory last?
Regis went on, “The Terrans granted us Closed World status so that we would not suffer debilitating social upheavals from exposure to their culture.”
“Are you defending them?”
Regis shook his head. “No, I am trying to be realistic. Darkover isn’t suitable for industrialization like the city worlds. Between lack of minerals and a fragile ecology, we simply can’t sustain certain kinds of technologies. The Terrans know this as well as we do.”
Danvan’s blue eyes glinted, although his voice sounded as weary as ever. “Do you think that would stop them? It didn’t stop the World Wreckers from doing their best to bring us to the brink of ruin.”
“Then what would you propose we do . . . sir?” Regis struggled to contain his temper.
“We have only one hope of standing against the power of the Terrans as they play on the ignorance and greed of the people.” With each phrase, Danvan gathered momentum like an avalanche in the Hellers. “We need a single, strong man to unite us.”
Regis closed his eyes. In that moment, he was a boy again, trying to stand up to the most influential, charismatic, and legendary figure on Darkover. He felt Danilo sitting not far from him and opened his mind to his bredhyu’scalm resolve.
Just listen,Danilo thought. He can’t force you into anything.
They both knew what was coming next.
“Why do you think I’ve held on this long?” Danvan’s burst of passion-fueled vigor was fading, and Regis felt, like a shiver in his bones, the brittleness of his grandfather’s failing strength. “I should have retired as Regent long ago. I would have if there had been someone to take my place.”
Stung, Regis shot back, “What more do you want of me? I stayed on Darkover. I pledged myself to Hastur and to our world.” I’m only one man! There’s only so much I can give, or I will end an empty husk!
“Yes, you have behaved with honor,” Danvan admitted. His voice lost some of its urgency. “No one questions that. You have stepped forward, at great cost to yourself, when a crisis demanded it.”
Regis sat back, surprised by his grandfather’s concession.
“But . . .” Danvan picked up his argument, “you have not fulfilled the one duty that only you, as Heir to Hastur, can perform—to give our caste, our world, our people the leadership to take them safely into the future. Look around you! As you yourself pointed out numerous times, the Comyn are all but gone, a few noble families here and there clinging to the shards of the past. We no longer meet in Council to decide crucial issues and provide guidance. The Towers have never interested themselves in anything beyond their own walls, and now they have to contend with training any ruffian with a trace of laran.”
Thanks to your Telepath Council,Danvan meant.
Regis gritted his teeth. If the old tyrant insisted on pushing his point to its conclusion, let him be the one to do it.
The charred end of a log broke off and tumbled into the bed of ashes, sending up a tiny spark. The mote of brilliance flared and died.
“Regis, my lad, we both know what you must do,” Danvan said, his voice now hoarse with emotion.
No.Did he speak aloud, or only in his heart?
I will not become king. I have never wanted that kind of power.
“You are the only one with the true right.” Danvan shifted to smooth persuasion born from deeply-held belief. “Not even if Aldones himself wished it could we place an Elhalyn on the throne. Your claim is legitimate, since your mother was King Stefan’s only sister. Not even the most hidebound conservatives will oppose you. Rather, they will gladly unite behind you. How can you not see how they need—they yearn—for one voice to bring them together, to speak for Darkover?”
“If they are so eager for a leader,” Regis said hotly, “let them choose one themselves!”
Danvan snorted and made a rude, dismissive gesture. “Bah! Terranannotions of democracy have no place here. Darkover needs continuation, stability, and, above all, a solution in accord with our own ancient traditions.”
He paused, visibly regaining his poise. “It must be you, Regis. There is no other. And it must be soon, so that you are prepared to counter this new attempt to destroy everything we hold precious and honorable.”
Regis wished his pulse were not rampaging so insistently. He did not want to wound his grandfather’s pride. He searched for a way to tell the truth and yet not be needlessly cruel.
“I will—” never agree to be king“—consider what you have said. There may be other options, ones better suited for Darkover as it is now, rather than as it has been in the past.”
“Do not take too long,” Danvan paused, as if formulating another argument. Then his thin shoulders lifted, his vision cleared, and he went on, “While you are considering, give some thought to the necessity of a consort.” He raised his voice as Regis began to protest. “Yes, we have been over the reasons why you refuse to take a proper wife.”
Near the end of his tolerance, Regis broke in. “And you have not listened to a word I have said on the subject! I have told you more than once that when I actually meet the woman I can accept as a wife, I want to be free to marry her!” He paused, then plunged on. “Not even you, sir, can accuse me of not doing my duty in providing the Domain with an heir. Between naming Mikhail as my son and—” with a glance at Danilo, who had once resented the times Regis had brought himself to have an affair with some woman eager to bear a Hastur child, “and fathering nedestrochildren, I have more than fulfilled my obligations!”
Danvan glared at him, then subsided. “I cannot fault you on that. Mikhail is a fine lad, and you are training him well. But as king, you require a lady at your side. You need not marry her di catenas.A consort will suffice.”
Regis was about to retort that there was no functional difference. He would be saddled with the woman, no matter what her title. Still, it was a remarkable concession for his grandfather to make.
In all truth, he admitted to himself, he had once thought that in Linnea Storn he had met a woman with whom he could spend the rest of his life. Danilo, surprisingly, had liked her. In the end, the intense flurry of emotional intimacy, fostered by the events surrounding the gathering of telepaths for the new council, had died down. They had parted amicably.
Regis rose, unwilling to pursue the conversation any farther. He bowed to his grandfather, assuring him that he would give the subject of a wife or consort equal consideration with that of the throne, and departed.