Exile's Song (52 page)

Read Exile's Song Online

Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley

“Then I shall make certain there is always a supply here at Armida for you.”
“That’s very kind of you, but it assumes I will be here, doesn’t it?” She gave him a hard look, and he had the grace to turn away. “And, yes, I have actually drunk Black Mountain—once. There was a huge formal reception at University, with a dinner that went on for hours. They served it after the meal, and it is really as remarkable as the stories say. It’s like no other coffee I have ever tasted, and it makes you feel . . . I can’t describe it. When they served the coffee, the hall went quiet. An old emeritus professor, Doctoran Hildegard, who was famed for his agnosticism, sipped his and announced that he now had evidence of the existence of the Deity.” Margaret laughed, remembering.
“It was that good, was it?” Jeff chuckled. “I am glad to have someone in the family who shares my pleasure in good coffee. At Arilinn they all behave as if I have some secret vice for drinking it.”
Margaret poured cream and honey into her mug and stirred it. Then she drank. It was delicious, dark and rich, and perfectly brewed. “You make excellent coffee, Uncle.” She began to pile some meat onto her plate, her hunger enormous though it was not three hours since she had eaten breakfast.
“Thank you, Marguerida.”
Donal tugged at her sleeve. “Can you ride a horse?”
“Yes, I can, Donal.”
“Don’t bother your cousin while she is trying to eat,” Ariel chided, bouncing a small boy on her knee. “Kennard, you have had enough to eat! You will make yourself sick with another sweet cake, and I will not be pleased.” The child on her lap looked about two or three, and he gave his mother a look of disdain and leaned out for the tray of pastries with one chubby hand.
“How do you manage so many children?” Margaret asked, trying to find some common ground with Ariel.
“So many?” She looked at her offspring with an expression both smug and anxious. “There are only five—Kennard here, who is two, and Lewis, who is named for your father, is now four.” She pointed at a sturdy lad beside her and tried to take the pastry away from the youngest child at the same time. “Then there is Donal, who is next to you, and Domenic and Damon. They are eight and ten. The next one is sure to be a girl, or so I hope. Or two girls, perhaps. How sad it is for you that you are my own age and have no children. You should get married as quickly as possible, you know. There is nothing more important to a woman than having children.”
Margaret could think of no reply that was not rude, so she ate some meat and drank more of her coffee. She was tired from her time in Liriel’s parlor, and the coffee restored her. She could not imagine that anyone with five children would wish for more, even with nurses and servants to help with caring for them. From the way Ariel clucked over her sons, Margaret suspected she refused help and wore herself out fussing over them.
“So which of my brothers are you going to choose—Rafael or Gabriel?” Ariel asked in complete innocence, apparently unaware that Margaret had already refused Rafael’s suit. She noted the absence of Mikhail’s name, experiencing a small prickle of anger. They all treated him as if he did not exist, and she wondered why he put up with them. He was clearly more dutiful than she was. It annoyed her that no one ever mentioned Mikhail as a possible husband for her, and while she vaguely understood the reasons, she still found them stupid. “They are good men, steady and dependable, you know,” Ariel continued, apparently ready to extoll the virtues of her brothers at length.
“I am sure they are both extremely virtuous, Ariel, but I am not thinking of marriage.”
Ariel looked shocked. “But your duty is clear. You must marry, and quickly, or else you will be too old to have healthy children.”
Javanne, beside Margaret, appeared ready to explode, and she glared at her daughter, but Ariel seemed unaware of her mother’s ire. “Duty?” Margaret asked quietly, restraining her feelings as well as she was able.
“Of course! Lewis, don’t pinch Kennard! Mother says you have the Alton Gift, and you must have children so it will not be lost. Now, which of my brothers do you like better? I admit Gabe is not much of a talker, but you seem to be, so perhaps a quiet man would suit you.”
That was just too much! “Does anyone on Darkover ever think about anything but conserving
laran?
You seem obsessed with it,” Margaret snapped.
Ariel recoiled as if she had been struck and Margaret felt like an ill-mannered lout. Of course her cousin was annoying, but that was no reason to snarl at her.
“I did not intend to offend you, cousin. But, indeed, I do not understand your behavior.”
Obsessed with
laran—
how dare she! Is she making fun of me because I have so little? I could kill her, sitting there with her golden eyes, looking at me like a bug. Why is everyone against me?
Ariel spoke with more force than Margaret would have imagined she was capable of, and her pale cheeks flushed with passion. She seemed almost transformed, a different woman entirely. There was a glitter in her eyes that made Margaret want to cringe, for it was not entirely sane. Then her cheeks paled again, and she went on, “I suppose you are just like your father, selfish. It must be your Terranan blood! If you had been raised properly, you would already be married and have children, and know your place.”
“Ariel!” Javanne spoke very sharply, and the crepey skin beneath her determined jaw quivered above the apricot-colored ruff around her throat.
I should not have invited her here! No one can control her when she gets like this!

What?
I am sick and tired of everyone tiptoeing around and treating Marguerida like some princess. If no one else will explain her obligations to her, then I will. She is little better than a spoiled child. It is time she started behaving properly, instead of jaunting about the hills with a Renunciate and listening to old people sing. That isn’t a proper occupation for a woman. Jeff says she is a scholar—what is that? Reading books and thinking thoughts that mean nothing!”
Margaret could feel her cousin’s outrage, though she could not imagine why Ariel was so provoked by her. After a moment Margaret realized that whatever was bothering her new cousin, it probably had nothing to do with her. She looked around the table, trying to discern any solution to the puzzle. Jeff looked troubled, and Javanne appeared ready to murder, though Margaret couldn’t decide if she was the intended victim, or Ariel. The children grew still and anxious at the tone of their mother’s shrill voice. Only Liriel seemed unmoved, as she continued to eat steadily.
Uh-oh—Mama’s having another of her spells.
Margaret thought that came from Donal, but it might have been one of the other children.
This is my fault!
There was no mistaking Javanne’s mental voice, nor the deep sorrow in it.
I should never have tried to comfort her for being nearly
laran
less with the nobility of bearing children. I believe that, but Ariel’s mind is so fragile. I tried to be a good mother, but . . .
Margaret would have given a great deal not to be picking up these scraps of thoughts, but the emotions of her aunt were very powerful, and she did not know enough about telepathy to block them out. At the same time, she found herself retreating into her academic habits, evaluating the information she was receiving. She felt sorry for Ariel. How dreadful it must be to lack a talent that was so highly valued, and present in the other members of the family.
No one understands me! They all think I am stupid and worthless. But I have children, and they are what really matters. If anything happens to my children . . .
This fear was so strong that it made Margaret’s gorge rise. She knew it was something that haunted Ariel every waking moment, and probably in her sleep as well. No wonder she looked so old and worn. It wasn’t child bearing that had aged her prematurely. It was fear. That, at least, was something Margaret understood, and even empathized with.
But why? The boys seemed remarkable hearty—just normal children of the sort she had seen on many planets. And on a planet with high infant mortality, five healthy lads was a wonderful accomplishment. And Liriel said she was pregnant again, this time with the girl child that Ariel clearly wanted. Why was she borrowing trouble?
Margaret’s eyes went from child to child, and came to rest on the face of Domenic Alar. He had large eyes and pale skin with his father’s dark hair. He seemed to have inherited something of his parents’ fretful dispositions, though, for he looked at his mother with an anxious expression. It could not be easy for the boys, living with a woman who clung to them all the time, she decided.
Without really being conscious of what she was doing she glanced between him and his brother Damon, and knew, in that moment, that Domenic would never grow to manhood. It was a shocking sensation, not unlike the way she had felt when she looked at Ivor, the day he died. Margaret was unsettled by the feeling, and when it turned to vision, abruptly, she wanted to run out of the room. As she looked at Domenic, he seemed to wither. For a moment she saw his pale skin spattered with blood, and then as Margaret watched with horror, he became a skeleton, his little hands turning to bones with no skin to cover them.
She heard Liriel’s sharp intake of breath from down the table at the same time Javanne spoke. “Ariel—it is not your place to be speaking of such matters. Your father will decide these things.”
“Lady Javanne,
Dom
Gabriel will do no such thing!” Margaret was glad to focus on her aunt’s statement in order to distract herself from the terrible vision. If she had to, she decided, she would provoke a fight with her formidable aunt, just to keep from thinking about what she had imagined. It must be that, mustn’t it? Of course! Ariel’s anxiety had caused her to see something, and that had triggered a remembrance of Ivor, and all the sorrow she still carried within her about his death.
“Liriel! Marguerida saw something, didn’t she. Tell me instantly.” Ariel’s voice overrode both Margaret and Javanne. “You tell me right now what you saw, you . . . you
monster.
You have the Aldaran Gift, don’t you?
Don’t you!
And you are going to hurt my babies because I was the only one with the courage to tell you . . .”
“Stop!” Liriel’s voice was deep and commanding. “You are making yourself hysterical, Ariel.”
“No, I am not! She saw something! Make her tell!”
Margaret sighed. She longed for the quiet of the road once more, with Rafaella. There, at least, meals were not interrupted by all the strains of relationships. “Cousin, I would not harm your children for anything.”
Liriel! I just imagined that, didn’t I? Tell me I only imagined it—please!
No, you did not I assure you that I can tell the difference between a foretelling and imagination. Marguerida, you do possess the Aldaran Gift. We suspected you might, of course. You did see truly, but I thank you for trying to calm my sister. Domenic will not live to father children. Let me handle this, please.
Thank you, Liriel. I’m certainly out of my depth here—the Aldaran Gift as well as the Alton Gift! Cousin, this is quite more than I can handle. I would trade it all for a fast ship to almost any destination! Shall I leave the house? Would that help?
There is nothing that will help Ariel now. When she becomes upset, she loses what little sense she has. It has always been so. Mother hoped she would become calmer when she was settled with her children and Piedro. We thought she would grow out of these fits.
Grow out of them—I know that song and dance all too well!
Yes, I know, cousin.
Margaret was surprised at the ease with which she and Liriel conversed, and she felt a great comfort in her cousin. She seemed to be so steady and sensible, unlike her twin. It pleased her, even in her growing agitation at the emotions rolling across the table from Ariel, that there was someone on Darkover who could answer some of her questions, and who might even understand her feelings.
Ariel, unaware of this exchange, rose and began to scream. “Do you think because I have many children I can spare one? Piedro! Where is Piedro? I will not spend another moment beneath the same roof with this monster.”
“Stop behaving like a superstitious peasant,” Liriel snapped.
“Ariel, you know perfectly well that the first experiences of
laran
are unreliable.” Jeff spoke with the calm authority of age and experience, but Ariel was not listening.
“No, I don’t know that! Liriel got all the
laran
between us.”
She stole it in the womb! It isn’t fair! She’s set for life, there in Tramontana, and I am the only one in the family without
laran.
But I have children, and no one is going to curse my babies. It is all her fault, Marguerida’s. She should have died. I know Piedro only cares for me because I give him children, and I have to watch over them . . . .
“Stop being foolish, sister.”
“Can you swear to me that her vision is false? She’s evil. She is full of ideas, of
Terranan
ideas, and she is evil.” Ariel leaped from her chair, sending the child on her lap almost onto the floor. Javanne grabbed her youngest grandson as Ariel began to bang her small fist on the table. Her uneaten plate of food went onto the floor, and the goblet followed it.
“Ariel, sit down.” Javanne spoke firmly. Her eyes were large and full of despair, as if she were holding herself together by will alone.
I can’t stop her! I never could! I was always terrified of her, when she got upset, and now I feel too old to control her. She was such a sweet baby!
Piedro hurried into the dining room, looking harried and worried. “What is it, my darling?”
“Marguerida foresaw something terrible, and she will not tell me what it was! Get the coach. We are leaving right now! The children will ride inside with me, so I can take care of them.” She leaned to her mother, snatched Kennard away, and glared. Then she turned on Liriel, her face white and furious. “Which one did she see, Domenic or Damon? Tell me!”

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