Kadarin turned into a small room, saying, “I think Lew is here with Beltran.” Regis blinked in astonishment, seeing, in the first moment, only the blazing fire, the floor inlaid with the mosaic of white birds! Fantasies spun in his mind. Danilo was not here, as in his dream, but Lew was standing near the fire, his back to Regis. He was looking down at a woman who had a small harp across her knees. She was playing and singing. Regis had heard the song at Nevarsin; it was immeasurably old, and had a dozen names and a dozen tunes:
How came this blood, on your right hand,
Brother, tell me, tell me.
It is the blood of an old gray wolf
Who lurked behind a tree.
The song broke off in mid-chord; Lew turned, and looked at Regis in amazement.
“Regis!” he said, coming quickly toward the door. “What are you doing here?” He held out his arms to embrace him, then, seeing him clearly, took him by the shoulders, almost holding his upright. He said savagely, “If this is any more of Beltran’s—”
Regis drew himself upright. He wanted to let himself collapse into Lew’s arms, lean on him, break down with fatigue and long drawn out fear—but not before these strangers. “I came here in search of Danilo; Javanne saw in her crystal that he had been taken by men of Aldaran. Had you any hand in this?”
“God forbid,” said Lew. “What do you think I am? It was a mistake, I assure you, only a mistake. Come and sit down, Regis. You look tired and ill. Bob, if he’s been mishandled, I’ll have someone’s head for it!”
“No, no,” said Kadarin. “Lord Kermiac welcomed him as his own guest, and sent him to you right away.”
Regis let Lew lead him to the bench by the fire. The woman touched the harp again, in soft chords. Another woman, this one very young, with long straight red hair and a pretty, remote face, came and took his cloak, looking at him with bold eyes, straight at him. No girl in the Domains would look at him like that! He had an uncomfortable feeling that she knew what he was thinking and was greatly amused by it Lew said the women’s names but Regis was in no condition to pay attention. He was introduced to Beltran of Aldaran, too, who almost immediately left the room. Regis wished they would all go away. Lew sat beside him, saying, “How came you to ride this long road alone, Regis? Only for Danilo’s sake?”
“I am sworn to him, we are bredin” Regis said faintly, “He is truly unharmed, not a prisoner?”
“He is housed in luxury, an honored guest. You shall see him as soon as you like.”
“But I do not understand all this, Lew. You came on a mission from Comyn, yet I find you here entangled in their affairs. What is this all about?” As soon as their hands touched they had fallen into rapport, and Regis found himself wondering, Has Lew turned traitor to Comyn? In answer Lew said quietly, “I am no traitor. But I have come to believe that perhaps service to Comyn and service to Darkover are not quite the same thing.”
The woman had begun the song again, softly.
No wolf would prowl at this hour of the day,
Brother, tell me, tell me!
It is the blood of my own brothers twain
Who sat at the drink with me.
How came ye fight with your own blood kin,
Brother, tell me, tell me,
Your father’s sons and your mother’s sons
Who dwelled in peace with thee.
Lew was still talking, through the sound. “The Comyn has been too often unjust. They threw Danilo aside like a piece of rubbish, for no better reason than that he had offended a wicked and corrupt man who should never have been in power. Danilo is a catalyst telepath. I suggested they bring him here—I had no idea they would take him by force—and his services be enlisted to a larger loyalty. I had it in mind he could serve all our world, not a sick, power-mad clique of aristocrats bent on keeping themselves in power at whatever cost….”