Marjorie had that heartbreaking remoteness I had begun to see in her lately, the isolation of every Keeper. Through it I sensed a deeper disquiet. Beltran was her guardian now. If he and I were to quarrel, the future for us was not bright.
These were my kinsmen. Together we had built a beautiful dream. My heart ached that I must be the one to shatter it.
But when Danilo and Regis were ceremoniously escorted in, I felt again a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, perhaps, if I could persuade them to help us, there was still a way to salvage that dream!
Beltran began with the utmost courtesy, making formal apologies to Danilo for the way his men had exceeded their orders. If the words had more of diplomacy than real regret, I supposed only the strongest of telepaths could feel the difference. He ended by saying, “Let the end I am striving for outweigh personal considerations. A day is coming for Darkover when mountain men and the Domains must forget their ages-old differences and work together for the good of our world. Can we not agree on that at least, Regis Hastur, that you and I speak together for a world, and that our fathers and grandfathers should have wrought together and not separately for its well-being?”
Regis made a formal bow. I noticed he was wearing his own clothes again. “For your sake, Lord Beltran, I wish I were more skilled in the arts of diplomacy, so that I might more fittingly represent the Hasturs here. As it is, I can speak only for myself as a private individual. I hope the long peace between Comyn and Aldaran may endure for our lifetimes and beyond.”
“And that it may not be a peace under the thumbs of the Terrans,” Beltran added. Regis merely bowed again and said nothing.
Kadarin said with a grim smile, “I see that already you are skilled, Lord Regis, in the greatest of the Comyn arts, that of saying nothing in pleasant words. Enough of this fencing-match! Beltran, tell them what it is you hope to do.”
Beltran began to outline, again, his plans to make Darkover independent, self-sufficient and capable of star-travel. I listened again, falling for the last time under the sway of that dream. I wished—all the gods there ever were know how I wished—that his plans might work. And they might. If Danilo could help us uncover enough telepaths, if Beltran’s own latent powers could be wakened. If, if, if! And, above all, if we had some source of power other than the impossible Sharra….
Beltran concluded, and I knew our thoughts ran for the moment at least along the same track: “We have reached a point where we are dependent on your help, Danilo. You are a catalyst telepath; that is the rarest of all psi powers, and if it is in our service, our chances of success are enormously raised. It goes without saying that you will be rewarded beyond your dreams. You will help us, will you not?”
Danilo met the ingratiating smile with a slight frown of puzzlement. “If what you are doing is so just and righteous, Lord Aldaran, why did you resort to violence? Why not seek me out, explain this to me, ask my aid?”
“Come, come,” said Beltran good-naturedly, “can’t you forgive me for that?”
“I forgive you readily, sir. Indeed, I am a little grateful. Otherwise I might have been charmed into doing what you wish without really thinking about it. Now I am not nearly so sure. I’ve had too much experience with people who speak fine words, but will do whatever they think justified to get what they want. If your cause is as good as you say, I should think any telepath would be glad to help you. If I am made sure of that by someone I can trust, and if my lord gives me leave”—he turned and made Regis a formal bow—”then I am at your service. But I must first be wholly assured that your motives and your methods are as good as you say”—he looked Beltran straight in the eyes, and I gasped aloud at his audacity—”and not just fine words to cover a will to power and personal ambition.”