“That only proves he was afraid of you,” I stormed, “nothing more! I’ve known grown men, hardened veterans, break down, accept any punishment, rather than face that ordeal! How many mature adults can undergo telepathic examination at the hands of an Alton? Octavien was fifteen!”
“You’re missing the point, Lew. The fact it, since he did not substantiate the charge, I am not officially required to take notice of it.”
“Did you happen to notice that Dyan never denied it either? He didn’t have the courage to face an Alton and lie, did he?”
Kennard sighed and tried to hoist himself up in bed. I said, “Let me help you,” but he waved me away. “Sit down, Lew, don’t stand over me like a statue of an avenging god! What makes you think he would stoop to lie, or that I have any right to ask for any details of his private life? Is your own life so pure and perfect—”
“Father, whatever I may have done for amusement before I was a grown man is completely beside the point,” I said. “I have never abused authority—”
He said coldly, “It seems you abused it when you ignored my written orders.” His voice hardened. “I told you to sit down! Lew, I don’t owe you any explanations, but since you seem to be upset about this, I’ll make it clear. The world is made as it’s made, not as you or I would like it. Dyan may not be the ideal cadet-master, but he’s asked for this post and I’m not going to refuse him.”
“Why not?” I was more outraged than ever. “Just because he is Lord Ardais, must he be allowed a free hand for any kind of debauchery, corruption, anything he pleases? I don’t care what he does, but does he have to have license to do it in the Guards?” I demanded. “Why?”
“Lew, listen to me. It’s easy to use hard words about anyone who’s less than perfect. They have one for you, or have you forgotten? I’ve listened to it for fifteen years, because I needed you. We need Lord Ardais on Council because he’s a strong man and a strong supporter of Hastur. Have you become so involved with your private world at Arilinn that you don’t remember the real political situation?” I grimaced, but he said, very patient now, “One faction on Council would like to plunge us into war with the Terrans. That’s so unthinkable I needn’t take it seriously, unless this small faction gains support. Another faction wants us to join the Terrans completely, give up our old ways and traditions, give up the Compact, become an Empire colony. That faction’s bigger, and a lot more dangerous to Comyn. I feel that Hastur’s solution, slow change, compromise, above all time, is the only reasonable answer. Dyan is one of the very few men who are willing to throw their weight behind Hastur. Why should we refuse him a position he wants, in return?”
“Then we’re filthy and corrupt,” I raged. “Just to get his support for your political ambitions, you’re willing to bribe a man like Dyan by putting him in charge of half-grown boys?”
My father’s quick rage flared. It had never been turned full on me before. “Do you honestly believe it’s my personal ambition I’m furthering? I ask you, which is more important— the personal ethics of the cadet-master or the future of Darkover and the very survival of the Comyn? No, damn it, you sit there and listen to me! When we need Dyan’s support so badly in Council do you think. I’d. quarrel with him over his private behavior?”
I flung back, equally furious, “I wouldn’t give a damn if it was his private behavior! But if there’s another scandal in the Guards, don’t you think the Comyn will suffer? I didn’t ask to command the Guards. I told you I’d rather not. But you wouldn’t listen to my refusal and now you refuse to listen to my best judgment! I tell you, I won’t have Dyan as cadet-master! Not if I’m in command!”
“Oh, yes you will,” said my father in a low and vicious voice. “Do you think I am going to let you defy me?”