Rinaldo . . . King?
Had the entire world taken leave of its senses?
Regis urged the dun through the swirling crowd. The horse, startled by the determination of its rider, lunged forward. Pedestrians scattered. A woman hissed a curse as she snatched her toddler out of the horse’s path.
Once free of the crowd, Regis kicked the dun into a hard gallop. Its hooves clattered on the paving stones. The saddlebags flapped like leather wings against its flanks.
The gelding slid to a halt in front of the town house. Regis jumped to the ground and shoved the reins into the hands of the startled groom.
“Lord Regis, what—”
Regis was already racing to the house. He scrambled up the steps and through the front door.
“Linnea!” he shouted with all the breath left in him.
Everything in the foyer looked as should, with no sign of forced entry.
Linnea!
He darted into the sun-lit parlor where she liked to nurse the baby.
Empty—
Heart pounding, he started toward the stairs. A slight, feminine shape appeared along the shadowed corridor. His heart lifted, but it was Merilys who stood there.
“My wife—” Regis grabbed the girl by the shoulders as if he could shake the answers from her. “Is she—my son—”
Cario , I am here.
Linnea emerged from her own bedroom, a shawl in disarray around her shoulders, little Dani in her arms. His face was flushed with sleep, one cheek reddened where he had pressed himself against her breast. A bubble of milk gleamed at one corner of his tiny mouth.
Regis could not speak. It was enough to breathe.
With a glance that said, We will discuss things privately,Linnea summoned the coridom.The steward arrived a moment later. Linnea excused herself while Regis was giving instructions for the servants to be properly cautioned not to comment on their master’s unorthodox appearance and sudden return.
Linnea came back without the baby a moment later, her dress and hair impeccable. Merilys carried a breakfast tray into the parlor, tidied the hearth, and then departed with a curtsy.
The moment the door closed behind the servant, Regis caught Linnea in his arms. Her body felt brittle with unvoiced questions.
“Stelli is safe,” he murmured, “and will remain so as long as the Red Sun rises.”
Her muscles softened, and she let out a deep breath.
“But you—I should never have left you here!” he cried.
Linnea’s gray eyes darkened. “Where would you have me go? Not to High Windward, not traveling with a baby this early in spring. The roads would be barely passable for the hardiest traveler, let alone a woman with an infant.”
She had a point. High Windward was no longer a fortified strong-hold, and even when it had been, it had fallen to a determined assault. Linnea would not risk so many other lives by seeking sanctuary there. Once Rinaldo realized she had fled, it would be the first place he would send for her.
Only one place on Darkover was truly immune from either royal command or military assault.
Now Linnea shook her head with a firmness Regis had come to recognize. “I will not endanger my friends by bringing them into this quarrel. Since the Ages of Chaos, the Towers have remained neutral. They must continue to do so. Let us speak no more of this. I will remain here, at your side.”
She set about pouring the jaco.“From the uproar of your return, I gather you heard the news.”
Regis took a cup and lowered himself to the divan. She sat down beside him.
“When I first heard, and that was rumor only,” he said, “I thought it must be some halfwit who’s been hiding out in the back corridors of Castle Elhalyn all these years, now seized with delusions of royal glory. It didn’t occur to me it might be Rinaldo. What was my brother thinking, to get himself crowned? The monks at Nevarsin never preached royal ambition.”
“They were quick enough to promote the notion of a cristoforoking,” Linnea said darkly. “Some of Rinaldo’s new ‘councillors’ produced historical records that the Hasturs had once held the throne.”
Regis felt a sudden, heavy tension in his jaw muscles. “Of course, no Elhalyn candidate came forth to protest.”
“This isn’t an usurpation in the strict legal sense. Rinaldo took the matter to a senior judge of the Cortes, who ruled that he has a legitimate claim.”
“The same judge, no doubt, who presided at the crowning.”
Linnea raised one slender eyebrow. “Along with every Comyn in the city . . . except you.”
Regis had hoped his absence might have gone unnoticed. He had not planned on missing such a public event.
“Of course,” Linnea said, “we were both expected to attend the ceremony. I cannot tell you how tempted I was! In the end, though, we both declined with regrets.”
“Hmmm. How did you manage that?”
A smile twinkled behind her eyes. “With dexterous diplomacy, worthy of the most convoluted Tower politics. A touch of milk-fever required my seclusion and your attendance on me. The refusal was remarked, of course. For several days, I expected a summons for you to present yourself and explain.”
“But none came?”
She shrugged. “It seemed my subterfuge had been successful, or Rinaldo was so occupied with his own concerns that other things took precedence.”
“My brother would not overlook my refusal to witness his coronation and thereby endorse it. Another Comyn would use such a lapse as grounds for a blood feud.”
“Rinaldo was . . . annoyed. Disappointed. Furious. Incredulous. Concerned. All in turn, and no reaction lasting very long. Still, you should tread lightly.”
“That is, until this mockery of a kingship has been nullified and things put to rights.”
Linnea got up and moved restlessly about the brightly lit chamber. She seemed a fey, wild creature, and Regis realized that he did not know her well. They had had a few brief, intense encounters and a short span of married life, little more.
“Just because Rinaldo’s coronation was hasty and unexpected does not mean it can be easily undone,” she remarked. “Unless he himself chooses to abdicate, he is King of the Domains. Or would you set aside law and tradition because the particular personalities do not meet with your approval?”
She was right. He must not waste time and resources on the colossal anachronism of a king in this age. He must try to understand Rinaldo’s intentions, reason with him, and guide him. And if he could not . . .
Regis surged to his feet and strode to the window. He looked over the walls to the city beyond. “What about my brother’s court? Who has replaced Gabriel as Guards Commander?”
“At first, it was to be Haldred Ridenow, but at the last minute, Rinaldo changed his mind and appointed Bertram Monterey.”
“I don’t know him.”
“He’s only a junior officer, but he is a devoted cristoforoand absolutely loyal to Rinaldo.”
“How is Gabriel taking all this? And my sister?”
“Javanne expected you to storm the Castle and rescue her daughter, and when you didn’t . . .” Linnea winced.
My poor sister, to have lost two children. First Mikhail to me as my heir, then Ariel . . .“Do you now fault me for seeing to Stelli’s safety first?”
“I have not changed my mind. You did the only thing you could, no matter how disappointed Javanne might be.”
“I suppose you will now remind me of the impossibility of eating nuts without breaking their shells.” Regis could not mask the anguish in his voice.
Linnea’s brows drew together, troubled but resolute. “If it had been Stelli instead of Ariel in Rinaldo’s clutches, I might feeldifferently, but I would thinkthe same.”