“He’s standing in the way of her getting proper medical care, that’s what he’s doing!” Dan shoved himself to his feet and began pacing.
“You should have heard the way she was going on before she made a break for it! I knew she’d been exposed to some bizarre cults on Temperance, but I never dreamed—”
Dan reined in his outburst. “I’m sorry. It’s not fair to inflict my feelings on you, but I’ve had no one else to talk to. Oh, the medics here have diagnoses aplenty for what’s wrong with her, but no help for how it makes me feel!”
“Helpless. Desperate. Responsible.”
Comprehension flickered in Dan’s eyes. He lowered himself back into his seat. The color in his cheeks seeped away.
“Regis . . . I didn’t think.”
Regis made a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been granted leave to tell you that your wife is well—in body, at least—and content to remain where she is. My brother regards her as a valuable advisor, not to mention a companion for his wife.”
“Then heaven help them both! Encouraging her delusions is bad enough, but to be guided by them is insanity!”
“My brother doesn’t see it that way, but he has offered to arrange a meeting on neutral ground.” Regis detailed the proposal, adding, “I hope you can persuade your wife to accept treatment.”
“Tiphani is an adult. I can’t force her to come back. Or to get help, unless she’s a danger to herself or someone else.”
“Giving advice hardly constitutes a criminal assault,” Regis observed. “If she feels secure, she will be more amenable to seeing you and Felix, and that may open the door to reconciliation. How is your son, by the way?”
“Confused. Angry. How else should he be?”
“As are you, for good reason. But Felix, having lost his mother, now needs his father more than ever.”
Dan lowered his head, his features hidden. Regis thought how easy it was to become mired in a problem that had no solution.
At last, Dan said, “Thanks, I needed that reminder. I hope things work out for Tiphani and she receives the care she needs and returns to her old self. Meanwhile, I can’t set everything else aside. I have a son who needs me, as you pointed out, and work commitments.” His gaze was steady, his eyes shadowed. “And friends—”
With a quick gesture, Regis forestalled whatever Dan was about to say. “You’re a good man and a good Legate with a deep sensitivity to Darkovan culture, but you will be of no use to either us or your Federation if you don’t remain neutral.” Regis paused to let his words sink in. “Certainly, grant individual citizenship, negotiate trade agreements and leases for the spaceport, and conduct your usual business. But leave the internal affairs of the Domains to us.”
“Have I ever done otherwise?”
Regis shook his head. “No, but these are unusual times. We will come through them, and Darkover will reach a new accord with the Federation. I have opinions as to what that relationship should be, as do others. Until then, let us work out our own concerns without any appearance of taking sides.”
“As much as I can, I will.” Dan paused, his brow furrowed. “Except that . . . you know I tried to delay formal recognition of your brother as Head of Hastur.”
“Your technicians took a tissue sample from me for comparison. I appreciate your efforts, Dan. It was a difficult, confusing time. But what you did was hardly interfering with our domestic affairs. You were within your mandate to establish his identity.”
Dan shook his head. “It’s not that. When we did a genetic analysis of your brother, we mapped all his chromosomes . . .”
Regis still couldn’t figure out what his friend was getting at. Then he realized, all his chromosomesincluded those that determined gender. “I know Rinaldo is emmasca. He has never kept it secret. The condition may cause other anomalies as well . . . Are you saying he isn’t human?”
“I am saying there is no way he could have fathered the child his wife is carrying. It’s biologically impossible. He is genetically sterile.”
“Then who—”
Did that innocent-seeming child have a lover? Counting backward from Midsummer, she could not have been pregnant when she married Rinaldo. The implications of a son with no Hastur blood succeeding to the Domain were staggering.
It would break Rinaldo’s heart to discover the betrayal.
Dan lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have no idea, nor will I offer any advice as to what action, if any, you should take.”
“I hardly know what is necessary . . . or prudent.”
“Was I wrong to tell you?”
Regis shook his head. “The information is safe with me. I must ask you not to tell anyone else.”
“Only the doctor who performed the analysis knows. I will speak to her and have the records sealed.”
After a few parting comments, the two men wished each other well, and Regis took his leave.
“Tell Tiphani we miss her and hope to see her . . . when it becomes possible.”
![Hastur Lord _42.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/163538/read/images/_42.jpg)
After the artificial illumination of Headquarters, daylight seemed blessedly muted. Regis strode briskly past the Terran Zone perimeter, his mind still spinning. The air tasted of stone and metal. As he passed the checkpoint, the guard waved, a brief lift of one hand, and then returned to his work.
Regis reclaimed his horse with an additional tip to the street sweeper. Before he could mount up, however, Regis sensed he was not alone. He stilled himself, reins gathered in his left hand. His right hand slipped beneath his cloak to the dagger at his belt.
Air stirred behind his left shoulder. Regis heard a faint scuff of boot leather on stone . . .
The dagger slipped free. Regis turned, shifting his shoulder to swing the cloak out of the way—
And faced Valdir Ridenow, an arm’s-length away.
Valdir froze, hands well away from his body. “Lord Regis, we have lived through perilous times, you and I, but do you really think I would assassinate you in the middle of a street?”
“I do not know what you are capable of.” Regis slipped the weapon back into its sheath, but kept his fingers curled around the hilt. “Have you something to say to me? A farewell before you take ship for the stars?”
Valdir flushed. “I have no intention of abandoning my caste or my world. Federation citizenship is available to all as our right. It was a precaution only.”
“I truly do not care whether you are a citizen of the Federation or the Fourteenth Planet of Bibbledygook.” It might be better for Darkover if Valdir didgo far away. “What do you want?”
“A word.”
“Only one? Why would I grant you that much?” An evil mood had infected Regis. Seeing the other man’s face, taut and proud, he relented.
“Very well. I am listening.”
“It’s too early for ale, and this street is far too public,” Valdir said. “I know a place in the Trade City where we can get a back room.”
“Please don’t insult my intelligence.” Although Regis could hold his own in a fair fight, old habits still held. He was not fool enough to go anywhere private with a man who had shown himself to be unscrupulous or to allow Valdir any closer than arm’s-length. Danilo would have a fit if Regis gave such a scoundrel the chance to slip a blade between his ribs.
“Here? Out in the open?” Aghast, Valdir glanced to either side. The horse’s body granted little visual privacy, and every few moments, a pedestrian passed close enough to overhear them.
“I advise you not to say anything you do not wish made public,” Regis said dryly.
“You have no reason to trust me . . .” When Regis made no reply, Valdir went on in a rush, “Lord Regis, we’ve had our differences in the past. I never thought to say this to your face, but I—we—no, I cannot shift any part of the blame to my cousins. They only followed where I led.”