Rediscovery (16 page)

“Well, then, if I show some interest in their doings, they will know that we do pay heed to what they do,” Leonie said. “They will know that we have a perfect right to know what passes in the mountains. They will learn that what they do in their mountain castles is watched and weighed.” She raised her chin proudly. “I am a Hastur. You tell me that I must have a care for the people of the Domains—well, I do. It is my duty to care for them, and it seems to me that this is one way to do so.”

Fiora sighed and said nothing, more because she did not want to prohibit Leonie

and have the girl deliberately disobey than because she did not care. She cared; she cared deeply.

She had not lied to Leonie; the Keeper at Aldaran had made it subtly clear to her, many times, that Lord Kermiac did not approve of the Council’s “meddling.” There had been bad blood between the Hellers and the Plains for as long as Dalereuth Tower had been standing, so far as she could tell. There was no record of what had begun the long-standing animosity, although Fiora often wondered if the troubles dated back before Varzil the Good and the Compact. Aldaran alone had never signed the Compact that prevented men from carrying and using weapons that reached beyond swords’ length. As a result, although they ceased to use the deadly weapons that had caused the Compact to be forged in the first place, the Lords of the other Domains had from that day forth regarded them as a kind of outlaw Domain. For their part, the Lords of Aldaran kept a proud separation, dealing with the Domains only through go-betweens: traders,

Renunciates, and the Tower workers. And that last was somewhat difficult at times, as Aldaran staffed his Tower with his own people, and many of the Comyn who came to work at other Towers could not work with those of Aldaran without a certain animosity rising between them. Since Fiora had become Keeper at Dalereuth, of course, this problem had not arisen. She was not Comyn; she had none of their prejudices. She could and did communicate and work with those of Aldaran as easily as with those of Arilinn.

But Leonie…one touch of her arrogant thoughts, and the Keeper at Aldaran would shut the relays down entirely rather than have to deal with her. Fiora knew that from experience; she had seen an Ardais precipitate just such an incident at Arilinn. It had taken a great deal of persuasion from the common-born to get Aldaran to reopen to them.

As she went back into the Tower, she wondered if Leonie would indeed prove to

be a problem beyond her handling. It was the first time the Keeper of Dalereuth Tower had ever found any problem beyond her. It was a new sensation to Fiora, and one she did not particularly enjoy. She thought,
I
am no more used to uncertainty than Leonie is

—
and far less used to defeat.

Perhaps if I keep her occupied
—
and wear her down.
Fiora nodded to herself.
Yes,
that may solve the problem. She has wanted to take a full part in the work of the Tower,
and she has certainly proved that she has the strength for it. She may be too willful,
unskilled, and unpracticed at the moment to work in the circle, but she can certainly do
the work in the relays, and free someone with more training for other work. And if she is
worked until she is weary…well, then, she will fall asleep, and there will be no chance
for her to meddle where she may cause harm by her prying.

For the rest of that day, Leonie had little leisure to think about the strangers. She received a summons as soon as she reentered the Tower; a message that surprised and pleased her. Fiora had decreed that she had all the strength to do her share as a true matrix worker, at least in tasks involving only one. She was to be allowed for the first time to take her turn in the relays, watching and listening for messages sent from the other Towers.

It was tiring and exacting work, with enough of novelty about it to keep her

excited. Fiora came by once or twice to observe; Leonie waited for some kind of a response or criticism, but the Keeper only nodded, and went on to another task. Finally, someone came to relieve her; by then she was ravenous and thinking only of food, and so it was long after dark when she had leisure to seek contact with her twin brother.

It crossed her mind, as she lay down upon her bed, that Fiora might have tried to tire her in order to keep her from finding out more about the strangers. She smiled to herself as she relaxed each muscle, slowly, and limbered her mind. If Fiora thought that a watch in the relays was enough to tire Leonie—she had really underestimated her pupil.

She closed her eyes, and reached out with her thoughts for the mind so familiar to her that it might have been an imperfect reflection of her own.

Lorill
—

She got a response; an immediate one. It felt as if Lorill was no more than a room or two away.
Is it you, Leonie? Is all well with you and the Tower?

She allowed amusement to shade her thoughts.
Of course. How not?

As she opened her mind to him, relaxing into the familiar companionship, Lorill

flooded her mind with something like laughter. There was enough of her recent

conversation with Fiora still in her surface thoughts to let him know that she was once again working
her
will despite official opposition.

Still up to your old tricks, sister? Or do they not let you get away with them in the
Tower? I thought that when you were there
—

She sent him laughter of her own.
You thought that perhaps they would break me
to harness like a horse, or to chains, like a Dry Town bride? Not a bit, though I cannot
say they have not tried. I believe some of them, think that with one reprimand I have
become a meek maiden or girlchild who will do everything she is told when she is told
to do it. But I
have
learned a little about how to be less rebellious
—
on the outside, at
least.

Lorill nearly lost contact as he broke up with laughter.
You, Leonie, meek? How
little they know you. All your life, you have done what you wanted, sometimes making
sure it was I who took the blame
—
and the punishment.
He settled himself, his mental voice full of irony.
Well, you cannot place any blame on me now; you are too far away.

Whatever you wish to be done, you must do for yourself
—
not like that time when
—

No, but listen.
She firmly broke into the flood of childhood pranks and their shared past.
Have you heard? There are strangers at Aldaran, and I think the Council
should know about it. These are very odd people. I have touched their minds, a little,
and they are from no land or Domain that I have ever heard of. They speak no language
that I recognize, and the little that Aldaran would tell us is that they speak neither
casta
nor
cahuenga.
I
think Father should investigate this himself. Aldaran should not have
the leisure to pry secrets from these people without the Council knowing of it.

Lorill sobered immediately.
Leonie, you know Father cannot go to Aldaran; there
is bad blood between the Hastur lords and the folk of Aldaran. If he should condescend
so far, even by sending a messenger
—

Impatience colored her sending, for she had a great deal of time to think about

what should be done while she was idle in the relays.
Oh, I understand that he cannot,
she replied,
but he could send
you,
Lorill
—
you are not yet old enough nor powerful
enough to threaten Lord Aldaran and you are Father’s other eyes and ears. Is it not
Hastur’s sworn duty to know what is going on in the Domains? Should there not be at
least one high Comyn lord letting Kermiac of Aldaran know that there are eyes upon his
doings? These strangers
—

If he had been with her, she knew he would have thrown up his hands.
Oh, now I
see! I am to go and satisfy your curiosity about them. Well, I won’t do it. Too long I have
had to take the blame for what you did, and agree to what you want. Now I am Heir to
Hastur; I shall not take the blame for your mischief any longer. This must end, Leonie.

She frowned; this was not going as she had thought it would.
Lorill,
she replied placatingly,
you are a man, and as you have said yourself, the Heir to Hastur. The
Council will heed you, where they dismiss me. These are unknown people, with
unknown reasons that brought them here. They could be dangerous
—
they could be
seeking an ally. Don’t you feel that it is necessary to know what they are doing at
Aldaran?

Lorill was unimpressed.
No, I don’t. And I am always suspicious when you take
that tone with me. I don’t see how a mere handful of strange people can be any serious
threat to anyone.

After another half hour of coaxing, the most she could win from him was a

grudging promise that if he could get leave from their father—
And it is by no means
certain that he can spare me,
Lorill cautioned—he would go to Aldaran and ask Lord Kermiac some tactful questions about his guests. Perhaps try to meet them himself, and give them some notion that there were other Domains beside Aldaran, with their own set of priorities. If he could, indeed, see these strangers, he might be able to convince them that Kermiac of Aldaran was not the only power they needed to reckon with.

And it is likely that they may simply tell me to mind my own business. Even if I am
a Hastur
—
or all the more for that,
Lorill cautioned,
I
cannot see Lord Aldaran giving
an account of his doings to any lowlander, let alone a Hastur. Even one traveling for
personal reasons, without the knowledge of the Council…

He broke off the conversation with a plea of exhaustion and a hasty farewell. And with that Leonie had to be content.

Do you come here from the Fairy Kingdom?

The question struck Ysaye with a jolt; never before had she so felt the reality

behind the words “culture shock.” She herself was now on the receiving end of such a shock—for although this might well be a Lost Colony, descended from star travelers like herself, the people here might as well have been complete aliens. Descended yes—but likely with no memory of their origin. Not only had records of their Terran history probably been lost, but their origin had obviously become buried in myth. They did not seem to recognize their far-traveled “cousins” even as human beings.

How did one explain space travel and a star-spanning Empire to anyone who

apparently believed in fairies? But she might be overreacting. Could these people have turned their tales of space flight into tales of fairies? Is that what the man had really meant?

Perhaps it’s just a reaction to Elizabeth’s choice of folk songs,
she thought hopefully, looking at Elizabeth, who seemed rather nonplussed.
Well, at least this will be
a challenge. If she and David want a culture to become their lives’ work, I think they’ve
found it. There’s probably work enough for a few thousand linguists and anthropologists
here.

With some relief she saw Commander MacAran, who was the ranking officer

present, come toward them. He was no more a xenopsychologist than she was, but he outranked her; she was perfectly content to let him take charge of the situation. At least he had training in diplomacy.

“Have you found a language in common, then?” he asked, looking from Elizabeth

to Lord Kermiac with an expression of interest and hope.

“Commander, he
is
speaking Terran Standard,” Elizabeth said with puzzlement.

“That’s better than finding a language in common.”

Commander Britton looked at her as if he thought she had gone quite mad. “No,

Elizabeth, he is not speaking Terran Standard,” Commander Britton said carefully.

MacAran’s expression said quite clearly that he suspected Elizabeth of taking a knock on the head. “He is speaking, so far as I can tell, a different language from these musicians, but it is definitely not Terran Standard. If I were to guess, I would say that it is closer to some of those songs of yours than the musicians’ language—but I’m no expert.”

“How is it, then, that I understand him so well?” asked Elizabeth in bewilderment.

“I could swear he was speaking Standard.”

She looked from Britton to MacAran and back again, her face paling.

“I can answer that,” said Kermiac, who had been monitoring this exchange. He

smiled slightly, as if she were a child, and his tone was soothing, as if he realized how alarmed she was by this. “You hear my thoughts, of course.”

“She hears what?” David had been standing quietly behind Elizabeth for some

time, listening with a frown of concentration on his forehead as he attempted to make out some of what the musicians and others were saying. But this statement was unusual enough to provoke a reaction to the content instead of an analysis of the phrasing and word choice. And Ysaye realized then that David understood the man, too.

“I am Comyn, of course, and so something of a telepath,” Kermiac continued

calmly, as if such a thing were more natural than saying ‘and so I breathe oxygen,’ “and it would seem that some of you can understand me, while others cannot. That is simple to explain; those of you who can understand me are also telepaths, although you are—

less practiced than I.”

Ysaye blinked. Why had she been so certain that he had been about to say,

“Although you are ill-trained and clumsy”?

“So,” Kermiac said, turning again to Elizabeth, “if you can, tell me from whence you come, and why you have come here?”

Ysaye listening carefully to the actual sounds of the words, realized that he was indeed not speaking in any language known to her; but she understood him perfectly, word for word. She looked at the rest of her party. Elizabeth and David seemed to understand this “Kermiac of Aldaran,” whoever he was, but Evans, Aurora, Britton, and MacAran were still looking blank.