“I suppose you are right.”Haldred stepped from the shadows into the pooled light beneath the tavern lanterns. Teeth glinted in a humorless, almost feral grin. “It is indeed my duty to assist you—”
Haldred’s shoulders twisted, then steel whined as he pulled his blade free.
Instinct and training sent Danilo reaching for his own sword. Even as he drew on Haldred, he sensed a second assailant coming at him from behind, and another—
Darkness.
. . . lying on a thinly carpeted floor, by its lack of vile smells not a tavern . . . leather thongs tight around his wrists . . . pain throbbing through his head . . . voices, too distorted to recognize . . . struggling to clear his vision—the huddled forms of two other people. Sleeping? Abducted as he had been—or even—O Blessed Bearer of Burdens, may it not be so!— dead!
. . . more voices . . .Some time must have elapsed, for now there was but one other body. Slender as a youth, flax- pale hair like a golden waterfall—Mikhail?
I was right!Regis thought. They are together!Was the third man Rinaldo? What had the scoundrels done with him?
The link was weakening, the images falling away with every passing second. He had run out of time.
Rinaldo!Regis made one last desperate cry, throwing all his waning power behind it.
Light flashed, blue and white, and then he caught a glimpse of his half-brother’s startled face. Behind Rinaldo, he spotted not the dimly lit room, but a place bright with off-world yellow light, the corner of a luxurious tapestry of Shainsa weaving. Another man moved in the shadows.
A cry of alarm—“What is it? DomRinaldo—”
Valdir Ridenow!It had to be his voice.
The connection vanished.
Then Regis was spinning, tumbling into a maelstrom of sickening darkness that clawed at his mind . . . dim sparks from Zandru’s own Forge . . . demonic chattering filling his skull—
“Regis. Enough.” Words rang through his mind, haloed in starstone-blue fire. “Open your eyes. Now.”
Without his conscious intent, Regis felt his lids jerk open. Orange firelight swept away the last images.
His fingers clenched his starstone so tightly that the hard edges of the crystal dug into his flesh. Linnea took his joined hands in hers. Her skin felt warm and unexpectedly soft. Firelight turned her eyes to amber.
“I’m all right,” he mumbled.
She released him. Without needing to ask, Regis knew she had seen and felt everything he had.
“Valdir.” The name came rumbling up through his throat like the growl of a wolf. “Valdir Ridenow has taken them. By Aldones and Zandru, by the Dark Lady Avarra, if he has harmed any of them, I will have his blood!”
It took the combined efforts of Linnea, Javanne, and Gabriel, returning with the news that Danilo had been seen near The Starry Plough, to convince Regis not to go storming off to confront Valdir immediately. Linnea pointed out that he could as well send a company of Guardsmen to summon Valdir to him, while another group searched and secured the Ridenow quarters.
When Regis left Linnea, she had lain down in her bedchamber with Kierestelli wrapped in her arms. The delicate skin around her eyes and mouth had taken on an unhealthy tinge of gray. She had smiled a little as Regis bade her good night.
She should not have exposed herself to such stress. Not when she is carrying our child!But if she had not, he would be no closer to rescuing Danilo or the other captives. Moreover, it had been her decision, based on her judgment as a Keeper.
After a few hours’ fitful sleep, Regis forced down a meager breakfast and allowed himself to be dressed as befitted a Lord of Hastur. Gabriel waited with Regis in Danvan Hastur’s old presence- chamber, while the Guardsmen tramped across the wealthy district to the Ridenow mansion.
Time took on a bizarre, elastic quality, passing both too quickly and with agonizing slowness. Regis could not recall having been this anxious since—since Danilo had been seized by the Aldarans for their ill-fated Sharra circle. They had been newly pledged to one another, and Regis had had little confidence in his own abilities. All he had known at the time was that he must do whatever it took to find Danilo. Now . . . now there was more at stake than just Danilo’s freedom. He must think of Mikhail as well, and the future of Darkover, and his brother.
Rinaldo was an innocent, a sheltered monk. What a rude awakening to the dangers of the world, to be taken prisoner! Regis would not be surprised if, once this mess was resolved, Rinaldo retreated back to the security of Nevarsin.
Rinaldo . . .Rinaldo, who had no laranand yet had responded with surprise to that last desperate mental outreach. Linnea had suggested the possibility that the combined psychic strength of a trained Keeper and a Hastur might well have broken through to the thoughts of even a nontelepath.
Rinaldo . . .and the voice in the background. If Rinaldo had suddenly heard a voice in his head—his own brother’s voice—would he have realized Regis was searching for him? More importantly, would his reaction have revealed that contact to another person, to the other man? To Valdir?
Regis could not have wished for a better man to wait with him than Gabriel. Whether from natural reserve or a lifetime of discretion as a Guards officer, Gabriel kept his own worries to himself. From time to time, a messenger would appear at the door, and Gabriel would step outside to receive the news.
Nothing . . . no trace at The Starry Plough . . . no witnesses . . .
Leaving the door open, Gabriel returned to Regis. Gabriel’s expression was as unreadable as ever, but Regis sensed something new.
“ Vai dom,my men have just returned from the Ridenow mansion,” Gabriel said. “They searched the entire house twice, as well as the surrounding garden and outbuildings. Neither Danilo nor my—nor Mikhail, nor your brother were to be found. The only person there, aside from a few servants, was DomHaldred Ridenow. They have brought him. He did not seem in the least reluctant. In fact, he has demandedan audience with you.” Gabriel spat out the word as if it were a serpent.
Haldred Ridenow was the man in Danilo’s vision. Haldred had sprung the trap that snared him. What did he want, or did he come on behalf of someone else? Did he speak for his kinsman, Valdir?
What will Valdir demand in exchange for the hostages?
“I had better see him without delay.” Years of training slipped into place. Regis squared his shoulders, sitting tall in his grandfather’s chair. The muscles of his face hardened; he imagined Danvan whispering in his mind, pouring resolve into his veins.
At Gabriel’s command, the Guardsmen escorted their prisoner into the presence-chamber. Haldred’s wrists had been bound, but he was unharmed. He seemed to be in no great discomfort as he came to a halt before Regis.
Regis had met Haldred at the ball held in Rinaldo’s honor, and on a few other social occasions. Haldred was a minor Ridenow cousin from a collateral branch, not likely ever to be in line for rulership but deriving his importance and most likely his wealth from the patronage of Valdir.
Haldred’s fair hair betrayed his Dry Towns ancestry. Regis sensed only a trace of the Ridenow empathic Gift, enough to make Haldred a good horseman or hawkmaster but not enough to sensitize him to the emotions of other men. Or, Regis thought darkly, perhaps his talent allowed him to glimpse the pain and fear of his fellows, and he enjoyed it.