“Then more of you should have your wits addled like that,” I retorted, turning on him. “This council is a farce, and now it is turning into a brawl! Here we sit like gaffers in the market square, haggling over marriages! Can a burst dam be mended with toothpicks?”
They were all listening to me, but I stopped, a familiar fist squeezing my throat. What was this?
Callina’s face seemed to waver in the rainbow shimmer or was it my eyes? But she caught up my words;
“Oh, we are so safe, my lords, we have so much time for this nonsense! While the Terrans lure the people away, and make a reeking, filthy Trade City out of our Thendara, we sit wrangling among ourselves, letting our young lords and ladies enjoy themselves on other planets—” her glance rested coldly on Dio Ridenow — “while we sit in the Crystal Chamber making marriages. And Sharra’s matrix in Kadarin’s hands! You had a demonstration, the other day, of our Comyn powers and what did you do? You let Marius Alton be killed, and Lew hurt. Those two you should have guarded above all the others! Which of you can answer for the life of Marius? Which of you would dare take his place?”
Before anyone could answer, I jumped in again.
“The Terrans have left us a little power to rule, and we play with our corner of the planet like little children squabbling over their playgrounds! The people used to hate the Terrans! Now they hate us instead! A leader could jump up from anywhere, or nowhere, and strike fire to all this tinder! While I was on Earth, I heard someone call Darkover the weak link in the Terran Empire. We could be the link to snap the chain of conquest! Are we doing it?”
Abruptly I stopped, out of breath, aware, first, that Callina and I were in telepathic contact — in’ spite of the dampers — and, second, that even this faint surface contact was exhausting me completely. I sent a desperate command; Break it! Get out! What was the girl doing? I couldn’t hold that kind of rapport under a damper! She clung, uncomprehending, and I lashed out with a quick telepathic surge, to knock her out of rapport. I was already so limp I could hardly stand up. I caught at the edge of the railing and let myself slide back into my seat, but I could not loose the merciless grip on my mind. Was it Callina?
The room was very quiet. I saw Dio’s face taut and pale. Lerrys choked, “What’s wrong with the dampers?”
Hastur stood up, leaning over the long table, and started to speak, then looked up. His mouth dropped open.
Callina froze, motionless.
The floor dipped under my feet and would not stay still.
And above us there was a little shimmering, a distortion of the air.
Dio screamed.
“The — the death sign,” someone faltered, and voices died in deadly stillness.
I stared at the sign that flared like letters of living fire in the air, and I felt my blood freeze and the strength running out of me like water. Twisted space writhed and flared, and the inside me was howling and gibbering, reduced to primal panic. From time out of mind, before Darkover’s sun faded to a dying ember, that sign meant doom and death, bodies and minds seared to ruin.
“Sorceress! She-devil!” It was Dyan’s voice exploding in curses; he took three quick strides toward Callina, caught her by the shoulders, and wrenched her away from her place before the High Seat; flung her, with all the strength in his lean body, out into the room.
And young Regis, through some uncanny sensing, leaped up and caught Callina’s reeling body as she fell. The sight broke the static horror that held me; I whirled to face Dyan. At last I had reason! The man who dared to touch a Keeper had forfeited immunity. Annihilating fury swept from me, taking Dyan unaware. The Alton Gift, even unfocused, can be a vicious thing. His mind lay, in seconds, stripped before mine. I rained vicious mental slaps on it. It was immensely satisfying. I had been holding this in check ever since he picked my mind on the skyliner. He writhed, crumpled and fell, gasping in loud desperate hoarse half-sobs.
The pattern of fire flamed and died and was gone. Space in the room was quiet, normal again.
Callina stood leaning on Regis, pallid and shaken. I still stood over Dyan; his defenses were slashed away, and it would have been easy to snap the thread of his life. But Derik threw himself forward, flinging restraining arms around me.
“What are you about, you madman?”
There is something in a touch which can lay the mind bare. And what I touched then, shook my world. Derik was a weakling; I had always known that; but this — this tumbling, impassible confusion? I drew away, unable to endure even a second of it, letting my savage attack on Dyan relax.
“Hastur’s voice, harsh, and sombre, commanded, “In the name of Aldones! Let us have peace here, at least!”
Dyan stumbled to his feet and backed away. I could not move, though I had no will left to defy Hastur. The Regent looked gravely at Callina.
“A serious occasion, Callina comynara.”
“Serious truly. But only for me?” She freed herself from Regis’ protecting arm. “Oh, I see. You blame me for the — the manifestation?”
“Who else?” Dio cried shrilly. “So innocent, so innocent she looks, but she and Ashara — she and Ashara—”
Callina turned terrible eyes on her.
“Can all your life be told in open council then, Dio Ride-now comynara? You sought Ashara once.”
Dio’s eyes sought mine. Then, with the quick desperate move of one deserted, she threw herself into the arms of her brother Lerrys and burrowed her bright head in his shoulder.
Callina faced them all with aloof dignity. “I need not defend myself from your silly panic, Dio,” she said. “But you, Dyan Ardais, I ask no courtesies of you, but you touch me again at your life’s risk. Let everyone hear, and let him beware of a finger’s weight laid on me; I am Keeper. And no man lives to maul me three times.”
She turned toward the door. And until the curtains had folded down softly behind her, there was silence.
Then Dyan laughed, low and ugly. “In six years you have not changed, Lew Alton. Still you have a passion for witches. You stand here defending our sorceress, even as you once threw away all your Comyn honor for that mountain hellion of Kadarin’s, trying to lure a Comyn lord to her bed—”
But that was all he got to say. “Zandru’s hells!” I shouted, “she was my wife and you keep your filthy tongue from her name!” I smashed my flat hand, hard, across that sneering mouth. He yelped and staggered back, then his hand swept like lightning into his shirt—
And Regis was on him like lightning, seizing the small deadly thing he raised to his lips. The boy flung it to the floor in disgust. “A poison-pipe — in the Crystal Chamber! And you spoke of honor, Dyan Ardais?”
The two Hasturs held Dyan back between them. One of the Ridenow brothers had a restraining hand on my arm, but he didn’t need it.
I’d had all I could stand.
I turned my back on them all and left.
I’d have strangled if I’d stayed there another minute.
Not knowing or caring where my steps led, I went up and up toward the height of the Comyn Castle. I found bitter relief in climbing flight after flight of stairs; head bent and aching, but a need for physical action driving me on.
Why the hell hadn’t I stayed on Terra?
That damnable sign! Half the Comyn would take it for a supernatural apparition, a warning of danger. It meant danger, all right, but there was nothing supernatural about it. It was pure mechanics, and it scared me more than any ghostly visitation.
It was a trap-matrix; one of the old, illegal ones, which worked directly on the mind and emotions, rousing racial memories, atavistic fears — all the horrors of the freed subconscious of the individual and the race, throwing man back to the primal, reasonless beast.