The assembly drew back as Regis approached. He knew some of them, city dignitaries, members of the Telepath Council, and a few minor Comyn. All were formally dressed, and many looked pleased with themselves.
Rinaldo’s courtiers are showing off, vying for power and royal favor,Regis thought with disgust. Here and there, he heard whispers and expressions of surprise.
Ignoring several attempts at greeting, Regis drew near the dais. Rinaldo was wearing a long robe in Hastur colors, the fir tree embroidered in silver thread. His belt and ornamental chain were of gleaming copper. A crown perched on his head, bright with Ardcarran rubies and sapphires. Danilo stood in the proper position of a paxman, features waxen, mouth set. His eyes came to life when he saw Regis, but he gave no other sign of recognition.
A man in a suit of opulent bronze brocade knelt at Rinaldo’s feet, hands placed in the attitude of a vassal pledging his loyalty. Rinaldo bent forward, his face intent. A cristoforopriest, who had been standing beside the dais, came forward.
Regis slowed his pace. The ceremony was akin to that used among the Comyn from ancient times. Regis himself had, at various occasions, both given and accepted oaths in just this fashion, but never with the participation of a priest . . .
The meaning of the ritual became evident a moment later: The new vassal had just publicly converted to the cristoforofaith. Regis set his jaw to suppress a shudder. In Darkover’s long past, kings and re-gents and Comyn lords had demanded—and received—fidelity of word and deed, even unto death. A man’s religious beliefs were matters for his own conscience. They had never been the price of royal patronage.
The ceremony concluded as Regis reached the dais. Rinaldo’s head jerked up, his expression momentarily unreadable. The newly sworn liegeman withdrew with alacrity.
Regis schooled his features into a pleasant smile and bowed. He lowered himself to the exact degree due to a kinsman of slightly higher rank. It was the salutation of a Comyn lord to the Head of his Domain, nothing more. How easily such niceties came to him, but, then, he had been drilled in the intricacies of Comyn politics since the time he could walk. If the nuances were lost on Rinaldo, they would be obvious to those few Comyn present.
“Regis! Brother!” Rinaldo exclaimed. “Where have you—I mean—we bid you welcome!”
Regis permitted himself an answering smile. “It gladdens my heart to see you well, my brother. Or should I say, Your Majesty?”
“It seems we have much to say to one another.”
“Then we had best do so privately.”
Rinaldo surged to his feet and raised his voice, addressing the assembly. “No more for today! Out, all of you!” As he strode out the door behind the dais, he barely managed to avoid knocking over the startled priest. Danilo followed closely, as a paxman should. Regis thought he saw a fleeting smile lighten Danilo’s mouth.
Rinaldo rushed along the Castle corridors at such a pace that Regis did not catch up with him and Danilo until they halted outside the study door.
“You’re not needed,” Rinaldo snarled at Danilo.
“As you wish, vai dom,” Danilo bowed with impeccable grace and backed away.
Rinaldo slammed the door and rounded on Regis. “What do you mean, disappearing without a word and then returning in such an ostentatious manner, interrupting my court?”
Regis made sure his own voice was under steady control. “I should as soon ask you, my brother, what youmean by defying custom in claiming the throne no Hastur has wanted for generations. I might inquire whether you feel yourself more worthy than Grandfather,” or myself, for that matter,“or what sudden and overpowering need our people have for a king. But none of these questions will accomplish anything except to widen the rift between us.”
“If there is a rift,” Rinaldo said tightly, “it is yourdoing. You promised to advise me, and then you vanished! My agents could not find you anywhere! Where did you go? With whom did you meet?”
His eyes narrowed. “What exactly were you up to?”
Regis had never before heard such naked hostility in his brother’s voice. “Let us sit down and discuss matters like civilized men.”
Trying to appear more calm than he felt, Regis walked over to the two chairs before the hearth, thus drawing Rinaldo away from the desk. There was no point in placing such an imposing piece of furniture between them; it would only serve to heighten the antagonism.
Rinaldo hesitated for a moment, then threw himself into one of the chairs. He was clearly angry at having lost the initiative.
Regis moved into the breach. “I was attending to necessary family business, if you must know. Am I not free to do so? Or do you intend to take care of our entire Domain single-handedly?”
When Rinaldo glared at him, Regis shifted to a more conciliatory tone. “You trust me enough to ask for my advice. Can you not trust me to handle my own affairs and fulfill my other responsibilities?”
Rinaldo had the grace to look abashed. “I was wrong to be angry when I did not understand. I had thought—erroneously, I see—you would be by my side. Everyone said it was an insult that you did not attend my coronation.”
“I am here now, and we have much to discuss. How did it come about that you are now king? What crisis required such a drastic step?”
Not to mention usurping the old faith with a relatively minor sect and then demanding conversion as proof of loyalty?
“If you are going to lecture me on how change takes time, save your breath!” Rinaldo snapped. “I have already heard more of such nonsense than I can stomach. I have been charged with the spiritual welfare of our people. The rightness of my calling has been verified by miracles—or do you think an emmascasiring a son is an event that happens every day?”
“That is indeed an extraordinary thing,” Regis admitted, choosing his words with care, “but not one that requires a supernatural explanation.”
Rinaldo leaned forward, his face alight with the fervor Regis had come to know. “I had been granted worldly power, but I needed more of it to fulfill my mission. We Hasturs are the most powerful Domain on Darkover. Men listen when we speak, and our word is accepted as an oath. At first, I thought that prestige was enough, but I was wrong. The very people I have been sent to succor refused to alter their vile practices. All my pleas and exhortations could not reach them.”
“You have been Head of Hastur for only a short time,” Regis pointed out. “Even Grandfather could not sway tradition in a single season. A better strategy might be to lead by example, by attraction rather than by force.”
Rinaldo responded with a dismissive gesture. “That is all very well when debating women’s fashions or the mode in musical entertainments. It is criminally negligent when men’s souls are at stake! Who knows how many have already died in sin, condemned to eternal torment, when quicker action on my part might have saved them?”
Regis was startled into momentary silence, although upon reflection, what had Rinaldo said that did not follow from everything that had gone before?
“How can you hold yourself responsible for the fate of all men?” Regis asked incredulously. “Is not each free to choose as his conscience dictates?”
Rinaldo replied, as if this were the most reasonable thing in the world, “Why else have I been placed in a position of authority over so many?”
Regis thought bitterly that the real reason Rinaldo had been given such power was that he, Regis, had so readily relinquished it. He wrenched his own thoughts back to the present problem. With those sentiments and ambitions, Rinaldo would naturally seek the means to compel what he could not persuade.
“It is a very serious matter to assume a crown,” Regis said. “Long ago, wiser men than you and I decided that the best way to influence the course of history was by wise counsel and restraint, by inspiration instead of command.”