The Heirs of Hammerfell (6 page)

All day she persisted in her search, but by sunset, she knew that what she most feared had indeed come to pass. Markos was vanished, dead or slain, or else he had abandoned her for some reason, and since the duke had not come for her at sunrise, he must have perished in the fall of the burning castle.

And so, filled with despair and the dawning of terror as the last light died, Erminie forced herself to sit down, to straighten and braid her long, disheveled hair, to eat some food from her basket, then feed some bread to her dog and her hungry child. At least she was not completely alone, but left with her firstborn, now the Duke of Hammerfell―and where, where was his twin? Her only support and

protection was a witless dog. She lay down and wrapped herself in her cloak, creeping close to Jewel for warmth, sheltering the sleeping Alastair in her arms. She fervently thanked the Gods the winter had passed. At first light, she knew that she must look about carefully and take her bearings, then set out on the long road that would bring her at last to the faraway city of Thendara, and to her kinsmen in the Tower there. Alastair was rocked in her embrace as her body was wracked with sobs.

5

Thendara lay nestled in a valley of the Venza Mountains, the great Tower rising over the heights of the city. Unlike other, more secluded Towers which housed all the telepaths working there―monitors, Keepers, technicians, and mechanics―the Tower in Thendara did not serve to isolate the inhabitants from the people of the city, but as in all the cities of the lowlands, tended to set the tone of social life in general.

The Tower workers mostly had residences in the city itself, sometimes very elegant and splendid ones. However, this was not the case with the widowed Duchess of

Hammerfell. Erminie, who had shed that identity for the simple one (which carried even higher prestige in the society of Thendara) of Second Technician in Thendara Tower, lived modestly, in a small house off the Street of Swordsmiths, whose only

luxury was a garden filled with scented herbs, flowers, and fruit trees.

Erminie was now thirty-seven years old, but she was still slender, swift-moving and bright-eyed, her splendid copper hair as new-polished as ever. She had lived alone with her only son all these years; no breath of scandal had ever touched her name or

reputation. She was seldom seen in any company save that of her son, her lady

housekeeper, or the great old rust-colored mountain dog who accompanied her

everywhere.

This was not because she was shunned by society; rather, it was she who shunned or seemed to scorn it. Twice she had been sought in marriage, once by the Keeper of the Tower, one Edric Elhalyn, and more recently by her cousin, Valentine Hastur, the same man who had come to her home in the hills so very long ago. This gentleman, close kin to the Hastur-lords of Thendara and Carcosa, had first asked her to marry him in her second year in the Tower. At that time she had refused him, pleading the recent-ness of her widowhood. Now, on an evening late in summer, some eighteen years after she had first come to the city, he renewed his suit.

He found her in the garden of her town house, sitting on a rustic bench there, her fingers busy with needlework. The dog Jewel was at her feet, but she raised her head and

growled softly as he approached her mistress.

"Quiet; good girl," Erminie chided the dog gently. "I should think you would know my cousin well enough by now; he has been here often enough. Lie down, Jewel," she added sternly, and the dog subsided into a floppy rust-colored heap at her feet.

Valentine Hastur said, "I am only glad you have so faithful a friend, since you have no other protector. If I have my way, she will know me better still," he added with a meaningful smile.

Erminie looked into the deep gray eyes of the man who sat beside her. His hair was now woven through with silver, but otherwise he was unchanged―the same man who had

offered her support and affection for nearly two decades. She sighed. "Cousin― Val, I am grateful to you as always; but I think you will know why I must still say no."

"No, I'm damned if I do," Lord Valentine said fervently, "I know you cannot still be in mourning for the old duke though that may be what you would have people believe."

Jewel rubbed against Erminie's knees and whined, demanding the attention she felt was being denied her. Erminie petted her distractedly.

"Valentine, you know I care for you," the woman said, "and it is true, I mourn no longer for Rascard; though he was a good husband and a kind father to my children. But at the moment, I do not quite feel free to marry because of my son."

"In Avarra's name, kinswoman," Valentine Hastur demanded, "how could it affect your son's fortunes other than well, should his mother marry into the Hastur kindred?

Suppose he became Hastur rather than Hammerfell, or I swore to devote myself to

restoring him to his proper rank and inheritance; what then?"

"When first I came to Thendara, I owed my very life to you; and that of my child."

Valentine waved that aside.

"It would be a poor reward for your kindness to

end by entangling you in this old unsettled blood feud," Erminie answered.

"It was no more than owing to kin," he said. "And it is I who am everlastingly in your debt, my dear. But how can you still speak of this old feud as unsettled, Erminie, when there are no living men of the line of Hammerfell save for your son, who was but a year old when his father and all his household died ~ in the burning of the keep?"

"Nevertheless, until my son is restored to his inheritance, I cannot enter into any other alliance," Erminie said. "I swore when I married his father that I would devote myself to

"the well-being of the line of Hammerfell. And I will not forswear that pledge, nor will I draw others into it with me."

"A promise to the dead holds no force," protested Valentine, quite beside himself. "I am living, and I think you owe more to me than to the dead."

Erminie smiled affectionately at Valentine.

"My dear kinsman, I owe you much indeed," she said. For when she had first come to Thendara―half starved, penniless, in rags―he had taken her into his home, and

managed to do it without compromising her reputation. At that time he had been married to a noble lady of the MacAran kindred. Valentine and his lady had fed and clothed her and her child, found her this very house where she still lived, and chosen her for the Tower, from which she had achieved her present high place in the society of Thendara.

All this was between them as he stood looking into her sad eyes. It was the Hastur whose eyes dropped first.

"Forgive me, my dear Erminie, you owe me nothing; I said so before, and I meant it. If anything, the

debt is mine, that for all these years I have been privileged with your friendship and your good will. I remember, too, that my wife loved you well; I think it would not profane her memory if I claimed you in marriage."

"I loved her, too," said Erminie, "and if I thought of marriage I could ask no better than you, my dear friend. It is not easy to forget all you have been to me, and to my son as well. But I have pledged that till he is restored―"

Valentine Hastur frowned and looked up through the boughs of the tree beneath which they sat, trying to sort his feelings. Alastair of Hammerfell was, he felt, a spoiled and worthless youngster, worthy neither of his high position nor of his mother's solicitude; but it would be no use whatever to say this to the boy's mother. Since he was all she had, she could see not the slightest fault in him, and clung to him with a passionate

partisanship which nothing could tarnish. And Valentine knew he had done wrong to remind her of her son; for Erminie knew that Valentine, kindly as he always was, did not love the boy.

The year before, Alastair had incurred a heavy fine for a third offense of driving his carriage recklessly inside the city walls. This was an offense all too common for young men his age, and, unfortunately, young men tended to think it a point of honor to defy the laws pertaining to safety in riding or driving. These young fops who thought of themselves as ornaments to society were, Valentine thought, a disgrace to their kinsfolk; but he knew that was a belief common to men of his own age. He wondered if he was simply getting old.

At her feet the dog stirred and raised her head,

and Erminie said with relief, "That can hardly be Alastair so early; I did not hear his horse in the street. Who can it be? Someone Jewel knows, surely―"

"It is your kinsman Edric," said Valentine Hastur, looking toward the garden gate. "I should go―“

"No, cousin; if it is Edric, it will be nothing but business, you may be sure, and if he doesn't wish to speak before you, he will not hesitate to send you away," Erminie said, laughing. Edric was the Keeper of the first circle of matrix workers in Thendara Tower and close kin to both Erminie and Valentine.

Edric strode into the garden, and made a chilly but civil bow to Valentine Hastur.

"Cousin," he said formally.

Erminie gave him a formal curtsy. "Welcome, cousin; this is a strange hour for a family visit."

"I have a favor to ask of you," Edric said wasting no time in his characteristic, brusque manner, "A family affair, really. You know, I am sure, that my daughter Floria has been in training as a monitor at Neskaya Tower, away from the city?"

"Yes, I remember; how does she?"

"Very well, cousin, but it seems there is no permanent place for her at Neskaya," Edric said. "However, Kendra Leynier is pregnant, and she is returning to her husband till the child is born, which would make a place for Floria in the third circle at Thendara. But until we are certain, Floria must live here in Thendara, and as my most suitable female kin, I wanted to ask you to chaperone her in society." Floria's mother had died when she was very young; she, too, had been a close kinswoman of Erminie's.

Erminie asked, "How old is Floria now?"

"Seventeen; marriageable, but she wishes to work first for a few years in the Tower,"

Edric said.

Grown so quickly, thought Erminie. It seemed like yesterday that Floria and Alastair were children playing in this very garden.

"I would be delighted," Erminie said.

"Are you attending Dom Gavin Delleray's concert tonight?" asked Edric.

"Yes," said Erminie. "Dom Gavin is a close friend of my son's. They studied music together when Alastair was younger. I think Gavin was always a good influence on

him."

"Then perhaps you will join me―and Floria―in our box at the theater?"

"I wish we could," Erminie said, "but I have subscribed to a box myself for this season; partly because of Gavin's concert tonight." Her tone became nostalgic. "Oh, Edric, I find it so hard to think of Floria as seventeen; when last I saw her she was but eleven, in short frocks with curls in her hair. I remember Alastair used to tease her dreadfully―chase her around the garden with spiders and snakes, until I'd try to stop it by calling them both in for supper; but even then he'd keep on teasing her by stealing all her cakes and sweets; he had many a spanking from his nurse for such behavior."

"Well, Floria has grown a great deal; I doubt her cousin will recognize her," Edric said.

"It's hard to remember what a little hoyden she used to be, but I think your ladylike example will still do her a great deal of good."

"I hope so," said Erminie. "I was very young when Alastair • was born; not much older than Floria is now. That is the way in the mountains, but I wonder

if it is not a mistake―how can one so young be a wise mother, and don't children suffer the lack of a mature parent?"

"I would not necessarily say that," Edric said. "I think you have been a fine mother, and I do not think ill of Alastair. In fact, when Floria is older―" he broke off, then continued. "I was only sorry to see you burdened with children when you were but a child yourself. I would rather see a young girl carefree―"

"Yes, I know," said Erminie. "My kinsmen did not want me to marry Rascard; yet I have never been sorry I did. I have nothing but good to say of him, and I am glad I had my son while I was young enough to enjoy having a baby around the house." She thought with the usual pain of her other son who had died in the burning of Hammerfell. But it was so long ago. Maybe she should marry Valentine after all while she was still young enough to have other children. Valentine picked up the thought― which she had not thought to shield―and smiled warmly at her. She lowered her eyes.

"Be that as it may," Edric said, and Erminie wondered if he, too, had picked up the thought―it was not to be imagined that he would disapprove of a marriage into the powerful and prominent Hastur clan, "I shall welcome you to our box at the theater at intermission tonight. Floria will be happy to see you again―you were always her

favorite kinswoman, because you were still so young and playful."

"I hope I am still young enough to be more of an elder sister and friend to her than a chaperone," Erminie said. "I envied her mother―I have always wanted a daughter."

Once again she knew that Valentine picked up the thought which this time she had quite deliberately failed to shield. As Edric turned to leave, she touched his arm, "Edric, there is another matter―a dream I had again, last night. I have had it so often―"

"The same dream, about Alastair?"

"I am not sure it was Alastair," Erminie with confusion said. "I was in the Tower, in the circle, and Alastair came in―I think it was Alastair," she repeated uncertainly. "Only he―you know how meticulously he always dresses―in my dream he was poorly

dressed in the mountain style―such clothing as his father might have worn. And he spoke to me through the starstone―" her voice faltered; she touched the matrix jewel that hung at her breast.

Edric said, "You have had this dream before―"

"All this year," Erminie said. "It seems like some vision of the future, and yet―it was you who tested Alastair―"

"True; and I told you then, as I tell you again now; Alastair has but little laran, not enough to be worth the trouble of training," Edric said. "Certainly not enough for a Tower worker; but your dream tells me that you have not yet accepted my decision.