“I know that now. What good would it do to say I am sorry for that, Regis? It was a shameful thing to say.”
“It is no wonder you cannot believe in honor or decency from my kin. But it is for us to prove it to you. All the more since you are one of us. Danilo, how long have you had laran?
“I? laran? I, Lord Regis?”
“Didn’t you know? How long have you been able to read thoughts?”
“That? Why, all my life, it seems. Since I was twelve or so. Is that…”
“Don’t you know what it means, if you have one of the Comyn gifts? You do, you know. Telepaths aren’t uncommon, but you opened up my own gift, even after Lew Alton failed.” With a flood of emotion, he thought, you brought me my heritage. “I think you’re what they call a catalyst telepath. That’s very rare and a precious gift.” He forebore to say it was an Ardais gift. He doubted if Danilo would appreciate that information just now. “Have you told anyone else?”
“How could I, when I didn’t know myself? I thought everyone could read thoughts.”
“No, it’s rarer than that. It means you too are Comyn, Dani.”
“Are you saying my parentage is—”
“Zandru’s hells, no! But your family is noble, it may well be that your mother had Comyn kinsmen, Comyn blood, even generations ago. With full laran, though, it means you yourself are eligible for Comyn Council, that you should be trained to use these gifts, sealed to Comyn.” He saw revulsion on Danilo’s face and said quickly, “Think. It means you are Lord Dyan’s equal. He can be held accountable for having misused you,” Regis blessed the impulse that had brought him here. Alone, his mind burdened with the brooding, hypersensitive nature of the untrained telepath, under his father’s grim displeasure . . . Danilo might have killed himself after all.
“I won’t, though,” Danilo said aloud. Regis realized they had slid into rapport again. He reached out to touch Danilo, remembered and didn’t. To conceal the move he bent and picked up a windfall apple. Danilo got to his feet and began putting on his shirt. Regis finished the apple and dropped the core into a pile of mulch.
“Dani, I am expected to sleep tonight at my sister’s house. But I give my word: you shall be vindicated. Meanwhile, is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Yes, Regis! Yes! Tell my father the disgrace and dishonor were not mine! He asked no questions and spoke no word of reproach, but no man in our family has ever been dishonored. I can bear anything but his belief that I lied to him!”
“I promise you he shall know the full—no.” Regis broke off suddenly. “Isn’t that why you dared not tell him yourself? He would kill—” He saw that he had, in truth, reached the heart of Danilo’s fear.
“He would challenge Dyan,” Danilo said haltingly, “and though he looks strong he is an old man and his heart is far from sound. If he knew the truth—I wanted to tell him everything, but I would rather have him . . . despise me … than ruin himself.”
“Well, I shall try to clear your name with your father without endangering him. But for yourself, Dani? We owe you something for the injury.”
“You owe me nothing, Regis. If my name is clean before my kinsmen, I am content.”
“Still, the honor of Comyn demands we right this injustice. If there is rot at our heart, well, it must be cleansed.” At this moment, filled with righteous anger, he was ready to fling himself against a whole regiment of unjust men who abused their powers. If the older men in Comyn were corrupt or power-mad, and the younger ones idle, then boys would have to set it right!
Danilo dropped to one knee. He held out his hands, his voice breaking. “There is a life between us. My brother died to shield your father. As for me, I ask no more than to give my life in the service of Hastur. Take my sword and my oath, Lord Regis. By the hand I place on your sword, I pledge my life.”