Was that about to change?

The coridom,a wiry middle-aged man, welcomed them. He seemed neither surprised nor distressed not to have had advance warning of the visit, nor was his manner obsequious. He held himself like a man who took pride in his work. From the ease of his manner and his clear respect for Danilo, they understood one another. There would be no last-minute repairs or beautification; what they saw was how the estate was run every day.

Danilo took his father’s suite, Regis and Rinaldo were given the two best guest rooms, and the Guardsmen were housed in a snug outbuilding. The rooms were in the oldest part of the house, walled in dark gray stone but refurbished with wooden paneling and carpets. Regis suspected the tapestry in his room had been a gift from Dyan Ardais. The furniture was most likely original, so darkened with age and polish that the wood appeared black. With the shutters thrown wide in the warm twilight, the air quickly became fresh.

At Danilo’s insistence, the coridomjoined them for dinner. The meal was simple but nourishing: a stew of shell beans and vegetables from the garden, made savory with herbs and dusted with finely grated cheese, several freshly-baked round country loaves called barrabrack,and bowls of deep purple brambleberries and clotted cream. Regis ate slowly, savoring every bite.

Through the meal, Danilo chatted with his steward. Regis found himself drawn into the litany of stories, the daily events and routines of country living. No wonder Danilo spoke of home with longing. Such a place was an oasis, a refuge, a restorer.

With the swift fall of night, the temperature dropped enough to make a small fire delightful. The coridomexcused himself, saying he had more business to attend to, and left the three guests to enjoy glasses of firibefore the dancing flames.

Rinaldo had been quiet through the meal, often glancing between Danilo and the coridom.He swirled the pale amber liqueur in his glass and looked thoughtfully at Regis.

“Now that we have comfort as well as leisure and need not attend to the menial labors of the trail,” Rinaldo said to Regis, “perhaps you will tell me more about yourself.”

“What can I say? You told me you were well informed about my life.”

“I am, indeed, but only about such things as any man may know. I would become acquainted with you as a man—a brother—and not merely a figure of political importance and common gossip.”

A brother in more than name . . .Regis thought with an astonishing sense of joy. At the same time, the part of his mind that had become accustomed to rumor and insinuation wondered exactly what sort of gossip Rinaldo had heard, cloistered away in a monastery all these years.

Common gossip . . .Danilo had flinched visibly at the last comment. From his expression, Regis knew that Danilo was certain it had been aimed at him, at them both.

“Is there any particular gossip you wish to ask me about?” Regis asked carefully.

Rinaldo looked uncomfortable. “I hardly know what to believe. Envy may have caused others to spread malicious lies about you.”

“Power attracts some and stirs resentment in others. We live in a world of many sorts of people. But in my experience, true friends accept that we need not think—or feel—or conduct our private affairs—alike. We each do our best with what we have been given by birth and inclination. Do you not agree?” Regis was acutely aware of Danilo, sitting so still, measuring Rinaldo’s reactions.

“A man can hardly be held responsible for the shape of his features or whether he is naturally talented in music or gardening,” Rinaldo said.

“Or giving sermons, for that matter. But this is why we have the guidance of those older and wiser, that we may endeavor to improve ourselves by discipline, study, and prayer.”

“By your leave, my lords,” Danilo said, setting down his glass and rising. “I must make an early start tomorrow if I am to inspect the boundaries.”

“By all means.” Regis smiled in encouragement, but Danilo would not meet his eyes. “It has been a long day, and tomorrow will be tiring for you while we laze about. You must get what rest you can. I will sit with my brother a while longer.”

Wishing them both a good night and assuring them that they had only to ask for whatever they might desire, Danilo withdrew. Rinaldo acknowledged his departure with a tight-lipped smile. When the door closed and the sitting room once more fell silent, he turned to Regis.

“Your paxman does not like me, I fear. But then, it is only reasonable that he should not.”

“Why might that be?”

“What man in his position would care for anyone with the power to displace him in your affections? I cannot help but think that it displeased him greatly to be sent on errands for my sake like a common servant.”

Regis gave a little, dismissive laugh. “Danilo is not like that at all.”

“You are amazingly unworldly for a man raised and educated in the midst of a political hotbed, my brother. I see you are the kind of person who wishes to think the best of everyone.” Rinaldo grew grave as he continued, “Beware that you do not come to regret your trusting disposition.”

Regis sat back, for a moment speechless. He was as dismayed by his brother’s comment as by his misgivings about Danilo.

“I am no courtier, to couch unpleasant truths in flowery language,” Rinaldo said. “I speak simply, as I think. You have been too sheltered from the realities of life. That is, if you truly believe what you say, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. You are too open, too innocent.”

Regis wanted to laugh. He had been called many things since coming into his majority and accepting the responsibilities of Heir to his Domain. Openand innocentwere not among them.

“I have had much time in which to study the ways of men,” Rinaldo went on, his tone shifting now to conciliation. “I tell you plainly that all men are indeed like that.Your Danilo is no exception. Did you see the clothing he got for me?” His voice took on a sullen edge. “It was poor stuff, hardly suitable for a servant. Bah! His actions have betrayed him.”

“There was no intent to slight you,” Regis hurried to explain. Perhaps Rinaldo felt like an interloper, unsure of his welcome, needing tangible proof. Regis did not want to accuse Rinaldo of ingratitude, but at the same time, he could not ignore the insult to Danilo. “After all, Nevarsin is a small town. This was the best available at such short notice. When we arrive in Thendara, we will have fine clothing made to your own measure.”

Rinaldo looked as if he would protest further, then smiled. “Of course, you must be right.”

For an uncomfortably long moment, the two brothers sat in silence. Finally, Regis said, “So you want to know more about me. Ask what you wish and I will do my best to satisfy you.”

“No, no, I do not mean to interrogate you! I have no right to question what I do not yet understand. But I have wondered . . . there are so few of us Comyn left . . .”

“Yes, we are far too few to form a Council or to divide our resources between ruling our own Domains and Darkover. Even before the World Wreckers sent their assassins, the great houses of the Seven Domains had dwindled. Grandfather needed me as Heir to Hastur. I set aside my own dreams of a private life. I thought . . .” Regis stumbled, surprised by the sudden burst of emotion, “I thought I was the only male Hastur heir.”

Now I have a brother to share that burden.But it would be premature to say so, before he knew Rinaldo’s temperament and desires. What could a man who had spent more than three decades behind monastery walls know about the greater world, about power and diplomacy, the skills required of a Hastur of Hastur? More to the point, would Rinaldo want that kind of life?