“That was a kindly thought, nephew. Between ourselves, that was a had business. I tried to talk Dyan out of it, but he chose to make an example of Dani and the law is the law. I couldn’t have done anything if Dani had been my own son.”
“Commander,” Regis said, using the most formal of Kennard’s military titles, “on my most solemn word as a cadet and a Hastur, there has been a terrible injustice done. Danilo was, I swear, wrongly accused, and Lord Dyan guilty of something so shameful I hardly dare name it. Is a cadet forced to submit—”
“Now you wait a minute,” Kennard said, turning blazing eyes on him. “I had this already from Lew. I don’t know what those three years among the cristoforos did to you, but if you’re going to come whining to me about the fact that Dyan likes young lads for lovers, and accuse—”
“Uncle!” Regis protested in shock. “What kind of ninny do you think me? No, Commander. If that had been all—” He stopped, hunting for words, in confusion.
He said, “Commander, he would not accept refusal. He persecuted him day and night, invaded his mind, used laran against him….”
Kennard’s eyes sharpened. “Lord Hastur, what do you know of this wild tale? The boy looks ill. Is he raving?”
Regis stood up with a surge of violent anger that matched Kennard’s own. “Kennard Alton, I am a Hastur and I do not lie! Send for Lord Dyan if you will, and question me in his presence!”
Kennard met his eyes, not angry now, but very serious. He said, “Dyan is not in the city tonight. Regis, tell me, how do you know this?”
“From Danilo’s own lips, and from rapport with his mind, Regis said quietly. “You of all men know there is no way to lie to the mind.”
Kennard did not release his eyes. “I did not know you had laran.”
Regis held out his hand to Kennard, palm upward, a gesture he had never seen before, yet instinct guided him to it. He said, “You have. You will know. See for yourself, sir.”
He saw dawning respect in the older man’s gaunt, feverish face in the instant before he felt, with a thrill of fear, the touch on his mind. He heard Lew saying in Kennard’s memory, I’ve known grown men who dared not face that test. Then he felt Kennard’s touch, the shock of rapport … the moment he had stood before Danilo in the orchard, reeling with the shock of Danilo’s anger and shame … his own liking for Dyan, the moment of half-shamed response to him … Kennard’s own memories of Dyan blurring his own, a younger Dyan, a slender, eager boy, to be loved and protected and cherished . . . Danilo’s sick, stunned terror, the flood of nightmarish dreams and cruelties he had shared with Danilo, the weeping in the dark, the harsh hawklike laughter. …
The blur of memories and impressions was gone. Kennard had covered his eyes with his hands. His eyes were dry and blazing, but just the same Regis got the impression that the older man was weeping in dismay. He said in a whisper, “Zandru’s hells, Dyan!” Regis could feel the knifing anguish in the words. Kennard sank down on the bench again and Regis knew that he would have fallen if he had -not, but for the first time Regis felt the iron strength and control with which a tower-trained telepath can control himself when he must. He had a frightening flash of agony, as if Kennard were holding his hand steadily in a fire, but Kennard only drew a deep breath and said, “So Danilo has laran. Lew did not tell me, nor did he tell me Dani had awakened you.” A long silence. “That is a crime, and a terrible one—to use laran to force the will. I trusted Dyan; I never thought to question him. We were bredin. It is my responsibility and I will bear the guilt”
He looked shattered, dazed. “Aldones, Son of Light! I trusted him with my cadets! And Lew tried to warn me and I would not hear. I sent my own son from me in wrath because he tried to make me hear…. Hastur, what shall we do?”