Prison of Night

"But his son is not." Alcorus looked from one to the other. "Yes, he had a son, a boy born to a woman he married while traveling off-world. A secret he kept from all but a few. The lad would be grown now and there is talk of his claiming his inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Lavinia looked at Suchong, at Navalok. "The lands were taken and voted to Earl. It was a Council decision."

"And perhaps a wrong one." Navalok was blunt. "We were confused, disturbed, unsure of our facts and you were pressing. The land needed an owner-retainers must be aware of a firm hand, but we could have made a mistake. And, naturally, we knew nothing of Gydapen's son."

"If he is his son."

"The facts are attested."

"But-" She broke off, aware of her position. Gydapen had promised her marriage and, even for reasons of his own, would have fulfilled the pledge had she permitted it. The previous marriage meant nothing-her own would have taken precedence and her children would have been the undoubted heirs. But to mention it. To remind those present that she had believed everything he told her. To admit that she had been little better than a gullible fool!

Dumarest said, "This talk of Gydapen's early marriage. When did it begin?"

"Recently. Why?"

"Who mentioned it? Who spread the rumor?" He looked at the blank faces. "Roland?"

"I don't know, Earl," he confessed. "I heard it from Jmombota. He claimed nothing for it but said that it was common knowledge. I think he wanted me to relay the news. There was no need. Three others asked me about it within two days and then-" He broke off, shoulders lifting in a helpless gesture. "Perhaps we should talk about it."

"About what?" Lavinia blazed her anger. "Gydapen was a dangerous man. If it hadn't been for Earl all of you would now be paying him homage. Is this how you thank the man who saved you?"

"Please, Lavinia." Navalok made a soothing gesture. "Don't upset yourself."

"Are you mad?" She stared at the others. "Are you all mad? Gydapen-"

"Is dead as you mentioned, my dear," said Erason a little impatiently. "We all know that."

"And you know what he intended. He threatened our safety. He would have broken the Pact or-"

Again Erason interrupted.

"We aren't sure of that, Lavinia. In fact we are sure of very little. Gydapen had guns, that is true. He was training his retainers to use them, that also is true. He had hired a mercenary, Gnais, to instill obedience and elementary drill. Gnais is dead and so is Gydapen. These things we know. But other things are less clear. Gydapen wanted to extend his mining operations. He told us that. A danger to the Pact, I admit, and also I admit we were concerned as to what action the Sungari would take once it had been broken. But the Pact wasn't broken and so the problem did not arise. What have we left? An accusation, made by you, that Gydapen intended a war of conquest."

"An accusation made not only by Lavinia," said Roland, quickly. "I made it also."

"And you are a part of her Family." Navalok did not elaborate, it was unnecessary, a man would lie for a relative and more than lie for a woman he loved. "And you could both be speaking the truth as you know it. In fact we all are convinced of that." Pausing he added, softly, "It was a pity Gydapen was killed. Dead he can answer no questions."

"And present no threat." Lavinia drew in her breath, making an obvious effort to master her anger. "What is happening here? If you are not all mad then what rewards have been offered for you to blind yourselves to truth? How high did you set your honor?"

Suchong said, thickly, "Woman, you dare to smear my name and that of my Family? If you were a man-"

"If?" Her contempt was a blow. "Don't let that stop you my Lord of Suchong. At dawn? On the upper promenade?"

"You bitch! You-"

"Are overheated," said Dumarest. "And this has gone far enough."

He dominated them with his presence, his height, the aura which radiated from his somber figure. Despite their talk and wild threats the rulers of Zakym were strangers to violence as he knew it. They adhered to the punctilious code of the duello-he killed in order to survive and to give an opponent a chance was to act the fool. Looking at him Lavinia remembered that, remembered too how close he had come to killing her. A fraction less swift in his recognition and her larynx would have been crushed, the splinters of glass thrust up beneath her lower ribs into heart and lung.

Drugged by his smoke Suchong had found unsuspected courage.

"You," he said, thinly. "Who are you to give us orders? A stranger. A fighter and little more. On Zakym we treasure the old ways and the old blood. We have no time for those who do not belong!"

* * *

He would die, Lavinia was certain of it. Dumarest would stoop and rise and his knife would flash as she had seen it flash before and Suchong would double, the steel buried in his heart and the insult would be avenged.

Instead he laughed.