Dyan, we all agreed, enjoyed it entirely too much. He was an expert wrestler and could have made his point without doing much harm, but he was unbelievably rough and never missed a chance to hurt somebody. Especially me. Once he somehow managed to dislocate my elbow, which I wore in a sling for the rest of that season. He said it was an accident, but I’m a telepath and he didn’t even bother to conceal how much he had enjoyed doing it. I wasn’t the only cadet who had that experience. During cadet training, there are times when you hate all your officers. But Dyan was the only one we really feared.
I left Father to him and went back to Regis. “Someone’s looking for you,” I told him, pointing out a man in Hastur livery, sheltering in a doorway and looking wet and miserable, as if he’d been out in the weather, waiting, for some time. Regis turned eagerly to hear the message.
“The Regent’s compliments, Lord Regis. He has been urgently called into the city. He asks you to make yourself comfortable and to see him in the morning.”
Regis made some formal answer and turned to me with a humorless smile. “So much for the eager welcome of my loving grandsire.”
One hell of a welcome, indeed, I thought. No one could expect the Regent of Comyn to stand out in the rain and wait, but he could have sent more than a servant’s message! I said quickly, “You’ll come to us, of course. Send a message with your grandfather’s man and come along for some dry clothing and some supper!”
Regis nodded without speaking. His lips were blue with cold, his hair lying soaked on his forehead. He gave appropriate orders, and I went back to my own task: making sure that all of Father’s entourage, servants, bodyguards, Guardsmen, banner-bearers and poor relations, found their way to their appointed places.
Things gradually got themselves sorted out. The Guardsmen went off to their own quarters. The servants mostly knew what to do. Someone had sent word ahead to have fires lighted and the rooms ready for occupancy. The rest of us found our way through the labyrinth of halls and corridors to the quarters reserved, for the last dozen generations, to the Alton lords. Before long no one was left in the main hall of our quarters except Father, Marius and myself, Regis, Lord Dyan, our personal servants and half a dozen others. Regis was standing before the fire warming his hands. I remembered the night when Father had broken the news that he was to leave us and spend the next three years at Nevarsin. He and I had been sitting before the fire in the great hall at Armida, cracking nuts and throwing the shells into the fire; after Father finished speaking he had gone to the fire and stood there just like that, quenched and shivering, his face turned away from us all.
Damn the old man! Was there no friend, no kinswoman, he could send to welcome Regis home?
Father came to the fire. He was limping badly. He looked at Marius’ riding companion and said, “Danilo, I had your things sent directly to the cadet barracks. Shall I send a man to show you the way, or do you think you can find it?”
“There’s no need to send anyone, Lord Alton.” Danilo Syrtis came away from the fire and bowed courteously. He was a slender, bright-eyed boy of fourteen or so, wearing shabby garments which I vaguely recognized as once having been my brother’s or mine, long outgrown. That was like Father; he’d make sure that any protégé of his started with the proper outfit for a cadet. Father laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re sure? Well, then, run along, my lad, and good luck go with you.”
Danilo, with a polite formula murmured vaguely at all of us, withdrew. Dyan Ardais, warming his hands at the fire, looked after him, eyebrows lifted. “Nice looking youngster. Another of your nedestrosons, Kennard?”
“Dani? Zandru’s hells, no! I’d be proud enough to claim him, but truly he’s none of mine. The family has Comyn blood, a few generations back, but they’re poor as miser’s mice; old DomFelix couldn’t give him a good start in life, so I got him a cadet commission.”
Regis turned away from the fire and said, “Danilo! I knew I should have recognized him; he was at the monastery one year. I truly couldn’t remember his name, Uncle. I should have greeted him!”
The word he used for uncle was the castaterm slightly more intimate than kinsman. I knew he had been speaking to my father, but Dyan chose to take it as addressed to himself. “You’ll see him in the cadets, surely. And I haven’t greeted you properly, either.” He came and took Regis in a kinsman’s embrace, pressing his cheek, to which Regis submitted, a little flustered; then, holding him at arm’s length, Dyan looked closely at him. “Does your sister hate you for being the beauty of the family, Regis?”
Regis looked startled and a little embarrassed. He said, laughing nervously, “Not that she ever told me. I suspect Javanne thinks I should be running around in a pinafore.”
“Which proves what I have always said, that women are no judge of beauty.” My father gave him a black scowl and said, “Damn it, Dyan, don’t tease him.”
Dyan would have said more—damn the man, was he starting that again, after all the trouble last year—but a servant in Hastur livery came in quickly and said, “Lord Alton, a message from the Regent.”
Father tore the letter open, began to swear volubly in three languages. He told the messenger to wait while he got into some dry clothes, disappeared into his room, and then I heard him shouting to Andres. Soon he came out, tucking a dry shirt into dry breeches, and scowling angrily.
“Father, what is it?
“The usual,” he said grimly, “trouble in the city. Hastur’s summoned every available Council elder and sending two extra patrols. Evidently a crisis of some sort.”
Damn, I thought. After the long ride from Armida and a soaking, to call him out at night … “Will you need me, Father?”
He shook his head. “No. Not necessary, son. Don’t wait up, I’ll probably be out all night.” As he went out, Dyan said, “I expect a similar summons awaits me in my own rooms; I had better go and find out. Good night, lads. I envy you your good night’s sleep.” He added, with a nod to Regis, “These others will never appreciate a proper bed. Only we who have slept on stone know how to do that.” He managed to make a deep formal bow to Regis and simultaneously ignore me completely—it wasn’t easy when we were standing side by side—and went away.
I looked around to see what remained to be settled. I sent Marius to change out of his drenched clothes—too old for a nanny and too young for an aide-de-camp, he’s left to me much of the time. Then I arranged to have a room made ready for Regis. “Have you a man to dress you, Regis? Or shall I have father’s body-servant wait on you tonight?”
“I learned to look after myself at Nevarsin,” Regis said.
He looked warmer now, less tense. “If the Regent is sending for all the Council, I suspect it’s really serious and not just that Grandfather has forgotten me again. That makes me feel better.”
Now I was free to get out of my own wet things. “When you’ve changed, Regis, we’ll have dinner here in front of the fire. I’m not officially on duty till tomorrow morning.”
I went and changed quickly into indoor clothing, slid my feet into fur-lined ankle-boots and looked briefly in on Marius; I found him sitting up in bed, eating hot soup and already half asleep. It was a long ride for a boy his age. I wondered again why Father had subjected him to it
The servants had set up a hot meal before the fire, in front of the old stone seats there. The lights in our part of the castle are the old ones, luminous rock from deep caves which charge with light all day and give off a soft glow all night. Not enough for reading or fine needlework, but plenty for a quiet meal and a comfortable talk by firelight. Regis came back, in dry garments and indoor boots, and I gestured the old steward away. “Go and get your own supper; Lord Regis and I can wait on ourselves.”
I took the covers off the dishes. They had sent in a fried fowl and some vegetable stew. I helped him, saying, “Not very festive, but probably the best they could do at short notice.”