“Kennard, I’m sorry. I cannot fight the whole Council for Marius, unless—has he laran?”
“I have no idea. Does it matter so much?”
“If he had the Alton gift, it might be possible, not easy but possible, to establish some rights for him. There are precedents. With laran, even a distant kinsman can be adopted into the Domains. Without it … no, Kennard, Don’t ask. Lew is accepted now, even respected. Don’t ask more.”
Kennard said, his head bent, “I didn’t want to test Lew for the Alton gift. Even with all my care, it came near to killing him. Hastur, I cannot risk that again! Would you, for your youngest son?”
“My only son is dead,” Hastur said and sighed. “If I can do anything else for the boy—”
Kennard answered, “The only thing I want for him is his right, and that is the one thing you will not give. I should have taken them both to Terra. You made me feel I was needed here.”
“You are, Ken, and you know it as well as I.” Hastur’s smile was very sweet and troubled. “Some day, perhaps, you may see why I can’t do what you wish.” His eyes moved to Regis, fidgeting on the bench. He said, “If you will excuse me, Kennard… T
It was a courteous but definite dismissal. Kennard withdrew, but his face was grim and he omitted any formal leave-taking. Hastur looked tired. He sighed and said, “Come here, Regis. Where have you been? Haven’t I trouble enough without worrying that you’ve run away like a silly brat, to look at the spaceships or something like that?”
The last time I gave you too much trouble, Grandfather, you sent me into a monastery. Isn’t it too bad you can’t do it again, sir?”
“Don’t be insolent, you young pup,” Hastur growled. “Do you want me to apologize for having no welcome last night? Very well, I apologize. It wasn’t my choice.” He came and took Regis in his arms, pressing his withered cheeks one after another to the boy’s. “I’ve been up all night or I’d think of some better way to welcome you now.” He held him off at arm’s length, blinking with weariness. “You’ve grown, child. You are very like your father. He would have been proud, I think, to see you coming home a man.”
Against his own will, Regis was moved. The old man looked so weary. “What crisis kept you up all night, Grandfather?”
Hastur sank down heavily on the bench. “The usual thing. I expect it’s known on every planet where the Empire builds a big spaceport, but we’re not used to it here. People coming and going from all corners of the Empire. Travelers, transients, spacemen on leave and the sector which caters to them. Bars, amusement places, gambling halls, houses of… er …”
“I’m old enough to know what a brothel is, sir.”
“At your age? Anyway, drunken men are disorderly, and Terrans on leave carry weapons. By agreement, no weapons can be carried into the old city, but people do stray across the line—there’s no way of preventing it, short of building a wall across the city. There have been brawls, duels, knife fights and sometimes even killings, and it isn’t always clear whether the City Guard or the Terran spaceforce should properly handle the offenders. Our codes are so different that it’s hard to know how to compromise. Last night there was a brawl and a Terran knifed one of the Guardsmen. The Terran offered as his defense that the Guardsman had made him what he called an indecent proposition. Must I explain?”
“Of course not But are you trying to tell me, seriously, that this was offered as a legal defense for murder?”
“Seriously. Evidently the Terrans take it even more seriously than the cristoforos. He insisted his attack on the Guardsman was justifiable. Now the Guardsman’s brother has filed an intent-to-murder on the Terran. The Terrans aren’t subject to our laws, so he refused to accept it and instead filed charges against the Guardsman’s brother for attempted murder. What a tangle! I never thought I’d see the day when Council had to sit on a knife fight! Damn the Terrans anyhow!”