How did Valdir know about the blasters?Regis had carefully avoided mentioning them when he stormed into Rinaldo’s council meeting.
“The Terrans have shown their willingness to ignore the Compact on more than one occasion!” Skillfully, Valdir maintained control. “That’s why I’ve argued for full Federation membership, so that we can stand among them with full rights. Now, thanks to this debacle, they’ll be screaming for justice—justice they won’t hesitate to take into their own hands. Whose responsibility will that be? Who will answer their charges?”
Valdir had not given up his dream of Federation membership. He had used Rinaldo only as long as the puppet king did his bidding. Now, when threatened with retaliatory martial law, he would not scruple to place the blame on Rinaldo. He would throw the Council into chaos, discredit the Comyn as rulers of the Domains, and then step in as the one man who could speak for Darkover.
In another moment, the Comyn would be all too happy to hand over Rinaldo, as the guilty party, to the Terrans.
Poor, deluded Rinaldo! He probably had no idea what was happening. Regis pitied his brother. It was like watching a drowning man as the tide carried him ever farther from the shore.
Regis faced Rinaldo once more. Throughout the Chamber, men paused in midsentence to listen. “My brother, I appeal to you and to the honor of the Hasturs. Our father and grandfather and all our ancestors, from the beginning of recorded time, devoted their lives to our world and its people. For their sake, you must step down. Only then can we convince the Federation that we are capable of handling this matter ourselves.”
For every Valdir Ridenow, there was a Varzil the Good, the visionary who brought about the Compact and ended centuries of horrific laranwarfare. Dyan Ardais, Kennard-Dyan’s father, had sacrificed himself for the greater good as he saw it. His actions might have been disastrous, but his integrity had been beyond question; in the end, he had seen his error and paid for it with his life.
As he spoke, Regis searched for the phrases that might reach Rinaldo, bringing forth that same altruistic spirit. Surely, the cristoforosstrove to emulate their own holy saints, men who placed the welfare of others above their own.
Regis shaped his argument in accord with that hope. He reminded Rinaldo of Nevarsin’s long tradition of service and humility. He tried to speak only to Rinaldo, to focus only on convincing his brother, not anyone else, and in so doing, he captured the entire audience.
The words slipped off the shield of Rinaldo’s single-minded determination like paper swords against a wall of stone. Within moments, Regis heard the rhythmic beat of men running in formation, converging on the Chamber. Rinaldo’s picked Guards would arrest or eliminate any man who stood against their King.
Despite the telepathic dampers, Regis read the thoughts behind Rinaldo’s simmering fury: Rebels and traitors, and Regis the most vile of them . . .
“I am no traitor!” Regis insisted. “When I have I ever dealt with you dishonorably? Have I lied to you or cheated you? Have I taken what was rightfully yours? I could have left you at Nevarsin, hidden away by your own family as if you were a shameful thing. Or brought you to Thendara as a nedestro,without rank or place.”
Something shifted behind Rinaldo’s eyes, like a stray beam of sun through storm-gathered clouds.
Regis stepped closer and held out his hands. His throat thickened, but he forced the words through. “You were the brother I longed for, the brother I chose to stand at my side, the brother I was proud to acknowledge. Compared to you, the privileges of Hastur meant nothing. Can you understand how important you were to me? How much I wanted to love you? You are the only brother I will ever have, just as I am yours.”
Rinaldo’s pale face took on a faint tinge of color and wetness gleamed in his eyes.
“Let us not be adversaries, each striving for power over the other,” Regis pleaded. “Can we not work together, each of us with our own gifts to offer our people?”
As if in a daze, Rinaldo passed one hand over his face. He mumbled a few words, a prayer, perhaps. As he swung open the gate and stepped onto the Chamber floor, he cried, “My brother! Everything you said is true! You have never been anything but generous and truthful. Yet . . . I do not know how to answer you. Have I not been given this power,” looking down at his heavily ornamented ceremonial garb, “by the Lord of All Worlds? Must I then break faith with either my brother or my God?”
“With neither of us,” Regis replied. “You will find a way to honor your spiritual calling. You will open the hearts of men by example, by goodness and compassion, not by fear and coercion. Is that not the way of St. Valentine, whose penitential life we once studied together?”
“The holy saint preached forgiveness as a path to salvation.” Tears spilled over Rinaldo’s cheeks. “I had all but forgotten that lesson. God will indeed find a way. Truly, I am a flawed instrument. For whatever harm has come from my best intentions, I must make restitution.”
Regis was moved beyond speech by the grace of his brother’s surrender. He had hoped but not expected that his words would make a difference. When he had used hard tactics, challenging Rinaldo’s position, he had met with equal resistance. Only when he had spoken from his heart and laid open his longing for a brother’s love had he succeeded.
The Chamber hushed in respect. Weeping openly now, Rinaldo stepped forward to embrace Regis.
“You snake!” A woman’s voice split the silence. “Seducer! Pervert! You’ve ruined it all—everything God has called us to accomplish!” Tiphani Lawton burst through the curtains at the back of the Aldaran enclosure.
“You can’t have him!” she shrieked at Regis. “He’s mine—God gave him to me!”
She reached the railing. Regis and Rinaldo, now only an arm’s-length apart, turned in unison. Danilo shouted out a warning. Already, Gabriel had risen from his place, and the Sergeant-at-Arms laid one hand on the hilt of his sword.
Tiphani stumbled onto the Chamber floor. She pawed at the folds of her robe.
With a savage cry, she brought out a Terran blaster and aimed it at Regis.
Regis stared at the gleaming cylinder. Behind him, Linnea yelled, “Go!” and Danilo hurtled over the railing.
Rinaldo grabbed Regis by the shoulders and spun him around, shielding Regis with his own body.
White fire erupted from the muzzle of the blaster.
Regis could not move. His breath had turned to ice in his throat. The stench of charred flesh enveloped him. Dazedly, he wondered if they had both been hit, or only he himself.
Rinaldo’s body stiffened. He landed in a graceless tangle, almost bringing Regis down with him. Regis caught his balance. Danilo flew past him, racing across the floor to tackle Tiphani. She waved the blaster, firing wildly. Danilo reached her an instant before the nearest Guardsman did.
Pandemonium erupted in the Chamber, people shouting, benches toppling, robes swirling as people rushed about. Gabriel reached the floor, and Valdir as well.
Between them, Danilo and the Guardsman wrestled Tiphani to the floor. The blaster went skidding across the smooth-worn stone. Tiphani spewed forth off- world curses. She lashed out with her fists, kicking hard.
“Uncle Regis!” Mikhail appeared beside Regis, taking his weight as Regis stumbled. “Are you hurt?”
Regis dropped to his knees beside his brother. Rinaldo lay on his back. His colorless eyes were open, filled with rainbow light. Regis stretched one hand over Rinaldo’s face, hovering his fingers over the pale, serene features, searching for a hint of breath and finding none.
The next instant, the telepathic dampers cut out. Laransensations flooded through Regis, a maelstrom of emotions and wild, desperate thoughts.
“Regis.”
He lifted his head and met Linnea’s gaze.