Regis tried several times to speak with the Legate, only to find the Terran sector barred to him. The Ridenow guards, who had until then resembled silent shadows, closed briskly with him, leaving little doubt that any attempt would be met with instant failure.
Within the Castle, the guards would not allow Regis to enter the corridors leading to the Ridenow section or, for that matter, the environs of their mansion in the city. From this, Regis deduced that Valdir had moved his quarters to the Castle, but he could not be sure. He received no inkling of where Danilo was kept. As for Rinaldo, Regis was told repeatedly that his brother was occupied at the moment and would send word when he desired an interview.
Regis often had business in the Castle during this time of shifting residences and preparing the quarters that would now belong to Rinaldo. When at last he had removed all traces of his own occupancy, he lingered in the study. It had never felt as though it belonged to anyone except his grandfather. Danvan Hastur had served the Comyn for longer than most men now alive could recall, and his presence whispered through every scroll and ledger. Now the man who would sit at this ancient desk and handle these pens might be kin, but he had never known the person behind the legend.
The thought had come to Regis that he ought to take the more sensitive items with him for safekeeping, for instance his grandfather’s personal records.
He was Rinaldo’s grandfather, too,he reminded himself. Moreover, Rinaldo was a man of learning, a scholar. He would not damage or misplace any documents, no matter how strenuously he disagreed with their contents.
On this occasion, Haldred Ridenow had accompanied Regis, remaining at a watchful distance. Regis handed him the keys to the desk and the locked cabinets and closed the door behind him. He paused, weighing his next move.
He had seen nothing of Linnea since that awful spectacle at the Crystal Chamber. There was nothing he could do to protect her, he knew that. Although he felt sure his laranwould have alerted him if anything had happened to her, he wanted to see her with his own eyes.
“Now that I have no further reason to come to the Castle except to visit my sister,” Regis began, facing Haldred with an expression of innocence. It rankled to subordinate himself to such an arrogant bootlick. “I would take my leave of an old acquaintance. A lady of the Storns and hence a distant relation of the Altons. Is this permissible?”
Haldred shrugged, bowed, and left Regis to the care of his usual escort.
The central hall of the Alton quarters had always struck Regis as dreary and sepulchral, even when old Kennard had still been alive. The lights in this part of the Castle were very old, chunks of luminous rock hacked from deep caves; charged with daylight, they gave off a cold radiance for hours into the evening. Regis preferred the warmer light of flame or torch or even the yellow incandescence of the Terran buildings.
Linnea had avoided the main chambers for the smaller, more intimate rooms once used by Lew Alton. After the chill of the corridors, the small bright fire filled the parlor with cheer. The furniture was heavy and masculine. Linnea had added little except her own presence. Except for the herbal scent and the honey-tinge of beeswax, she might have been only a passing guest.
After exchanging awkward pleasantries with her, Regis put forth his offer. “I cannot guarantee your safety or Kierestelli’s. Here in the Castle, anything can happen. Mikhail was seized in his family’s own quarters. At least, in the townhouse, I know every face.”
Linnea set down her cup of the spiced pear cider she had served. “Regis, if I move in with you, I will destroy what is left of my reputation—and hence, my position of respect—and have it cried from every street corner that I am Regis Hastur’s barragana.”
Regis searched for a graceful way to point out that there was an alternative, as his wife di catenas.
Catching his thought, she shook her head and gestured negation. “Let us not discuss thatany further. Regardless of recent events, I believe we have each said all we care to on the subject.”
Regis looked away. The fire, so merry and comforting only a moment ago, now cast blood-lit shadows across his thoughts. He thought of the people he loved and who were now kept from him—Lew. Mikhail. Even Dan Lawton.
Danilo . . .
“I have tried to reach Danilo,” she said softly. “We will not abandon him.”
At least, Mikhail is no longer in Valdir’s clutches.
“Since you have given thought to such matters, perhaps you would advise me concerning Mikhail.” To his own ears, Regis sounded clumsy, Would he ever be able to speak with her without making a fool of himself ? “I cannot take the risk that, should I do something to displease him, Valdir will imprison Mikhail again. This time, Valdir might not be as concerned for his welfare.”
Linnea looked thoughtful or perhaps grateful they had abandoned a painful subject. “Have you considered sending Mikhail home to Armida?”
Regis replied that he had judged the Alton country estate too poorly defensible. “As long as he’s my Heir, he can hardly apply to the Federation for protective asylum.”
“I agree.” She picked up her cup, no longer steaming, and swirled its contents meditatively. “Mikhail remains at risk as long as Valdir believes he is important to you. What if you were to set him aside? I know the oaths you swore when you took him for your Heir cannot be lightly nullified—”
“The issue is not Mikhail’s legal inheritance but the claim he has on my heart,” Regis said. “I pledged myself to protect him as I would any child of my own flesh.”
“I know that,” Linnea made the words into a caress, “and you know that. The question is what might cause Valdir to disbelieve it? What if—what if you were to transfer Mikhail’s fealty elsewhere?”
“I’m not sure I understand you.”
“You might give him to Kennard-Dyan as paxman and then send them both back to Ardais.”
For a long moment, Regis stared at her. For a young, gently reared woman who had spent the better part of her life in a Tower, her grasp of Comyn politics was astonishing. Mikhail would object, of course. Regis might have to command him with all the force of past authority and present love. Javanne would support him, he was sure. The young Ardais lord truly cared for Mikhail, of that Regis was also certain.
The estate house at Ardais was no more defensible than Armida, but it was considerably more remote, being three days’ ride beyond Scaravel Pass in the Hellers. Not even Valdir would dare to violate its sovereignty in order to abduct the paxman of the Heir of Ardais. That was, unless he intended outright warfare between Domains, for that would surely be the result.
The air became less oppressive to Regis, his shoulders less burdened. At the same time, he felt a deepening of his sorrow at the thought that after this day, he would no longer be able to speak with Linnea in this way, to seek out her advice. One visit might be ignored, but a second would surely attract notice.
She brushed the back of his wrist with her fingertips. “I hope it will be for only a little while. Until—until Danilo is safe and no one you hold dear is under threat. In the meantime, I will use my position here to best advantage.”
Regis raised one eyebrow in inquiry.
Her laughter rippled, a sweet arpeggio. “Why, gossip, of course! I can listen to all the things women and their servants never say to men!”