Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley
"I think whatever is moving us is keeping the others from coming," Mikhail muttered,
his words a little slurred. "Come on—they won't keep still forever."
They charged down the stairs to the stableyard, bumping into one another in their
haste, and each of them nearly falling at least twice. They were breathless by the time
they reached the cobblestones.
She stumbled then, and shuddered all over. "What's wrong, Marguerida?" Mikhail
asked.
"I think Ariel just went into labor," Margaret said, her heart beating faster.
"But she isn't due for at least another . . . tenday, is she?"
"I know. Ariel might not be ready, but the baby has other ideas. And be grateful, since
that will distract everyone while we make our getaway!" Men, she thought, could be
really stupid, even Mikhail. "I told you she would be born at Midwinter!"
"Yes, you did, and I will never doubt you again. Come on!"
There was no one but a sleepy lad in the stables, and he
just looked at them stupidly while they got their horses. It was not his place to question
members of the Domains. Mikhail went to the tackroom and grabbed their saddles. She
fumbled on bits and bridles as he dragged them down the straw-strewn floor. It took all
her will power not to start running from the stables, down the chilly street, and out of
the city. At last, after what seemed an eternity, they were ready to leave.
As Margaret swung into the saddle, Dorilys danced beneath her, almost unseating her.
She heard Charger bugle in the night. Then they were riding away, moving toward the
arch above the stablecourt entrance.
There was a rush of air and a flutter of wings. From the corner of her eye, Margaret
saw Mikhail's crow descend onto his shoulder, cawing raucously. It clung to him, then
hopped down onto the pommel.
The sound of their hoofbeats on the cobblestones of the narrow street seemed to echo
between the quiet buildings. Margaret wanted to urge Dorilys faster, to ease the weight
inside her, but the stones were not meant for rapid movement. She had to let the horse
choose her own pace, no matter what. She could not decide if she was afraid they
would be caught now, or afraid they would not.
The city was moderately quiet here, but they could both hear distant sounds of
celebration when they passed a few houses. When they rode through the little
marketplace where Margaret had seen the Travelers' wagons, the space was alight with
torches, and a good-sized audience was watching something being performed on the
lowered side of a wain. She caught a glimpse of bright costumes in the flickering light,
and heard a voice declaiming something.
The rapid sound of hoofbeats made some of the watchers turn to look at the sight of
two riders racing through the marketplace. From the edge of her sight, she saw a few
startled faces, and heard a shout of inquiry. Then they were heading for the gate to the
old North Road.
The air was cold and crisp against her skin, making her shiver, though she was not sure
if it was from excitement or the chill of the air. There was a faint smell of snow to
come, but the sky remained dark and full of stars. Margaret looked up, for clear nights
were a rarity. She gave Dorilys her head, and the little mare stretched out her neck and
ran like the wind. Mikhail's horse, being longer legged, led them by a pace or two. The
whole- thing had the quality of a dream now, except for the steady pressure in her
mind.
After perhaps an hour of hard riding, they drew their horses into a trot. Dorilys did not
appear winded, but she had worked up a sweat. Margaret patted the smooth shoulder
with her right hand, and heard a cheerful nicker in response. The horse seemed to find
riding off into the night very exciting, and Margaret only wished she shared the
feeling.
"I would give a lot to be in two places at once," Mikhail commented. His voice was a
little hoarse, dry with riding, and she knew that his apparent ease was as much a pose
as her own. They were being driven, and it was an enormous strain, one that could only
be relieved by speaking of anything but that which compelled them ahead.
"You mean you actually want to be back in Comyn Castle right now?"
"Yes, and no. If you were right, and Ariel has gone into
labor, in the middle of the ballroom, it is probably chaos.
And perhaps no one has missed us yet. Are you certain
she . . .?"
-
"Yes, absolutely. I knew Alanna would be born tonight, as well as I know my own
name. Even in the midst of
this. I
can sense your sister's pain. And I think I have
learned one thing about the Aldaran part of my cursed Gift. I don't see everyone's
future, only my own. So I know that Alanna Alar will be fine, because she and I are
fated to know one another—even though at this moment I don't know if we are going
to survive this madness. I know. That makes no sense. I can't tell you if Ariel will be all
right, just Alanna." She did not add that the future she saw with Alanna in it was very
troubled.
"That makes sense, as much as anything does right now. My head feels three sizes too
big, and my jaw aches from clenching it. Tell me, what did you mean when you told
Giz that she had backed the wrong horse—I confess that being compared to a stallion
did not flatter me very much." In the near darkness, his voice was calm, as if the strain
of the past few hours had left him too tired to be angry any longer.
Margaret laughed. "I was standing there, looking at the
stars and thinking about nothing in particular, actually, when she came up and started
in at me. Before I could get angry and step on her toes, I got another hint, a small flash.
She doesn't know it yet, but she is going to marry Rafael, and be your sister-in-law, no
matter what else happens. She was right—she is going to marry a Hastur—just not the
one she expected. I suspect that
Dom
Damon tried to force Regis' hand, and make him
promise to announce an engagement between her and you, but he was clever enough to
find another solution."
"I see. So that was what Danilo meant." He gave a small sigh. "And will she be
happy?"
"I have no idea. Nor do I give a damn!"
"Well, I did suggest to Regis that I was not the only unmarried member of the family,
so it makes sense. Poor Rafael. What a woman to be saddled with!"
"I would not repine overmuch. Your brother is a steady man, and I think that what
Gisela needs is someone who is immune to her fancies. She seems rather spoiled to
me, being the only girl and the apple of her father's eye. Mik, we'd better start to move
more quickly now. I am starting to feel hard-pressed again.
"You are right. Kind of whatever it is to give us a respite." With this ironic statement,
they broke into a faster pace. The only sounds were the rhythm of the horses' hooves,
and the sigh of the breeze in the empty fields. They passed through a dozing hamlet,
then another, moving toward the moment they had both known awaited them when
they saw the ghost of Hali Tower.
It was, Margaret decided, a peculiar sensation, compelled to be running toward she
knew not what. It was different from the way she had felt when she was overshadowed
by Ashara, similar and dissimilar at the same time. There was no sense of dread in her
bones, no fear except a normal, human fear of the unknown. Something awaited her in
the ruins of Hali Tower, something wonderful and terrible. But deep in her aching
bones, she felt that whatever she was doing, it was the right thing for her.
Then she suddenly thought of her father, and all her serenity vanished. He would be
frantic. What a foolish and thoughtless woman she was! What business did she have,
running off in the middle of the night? She had no choice,
but that did not ease her feeling of guilt. It was selfish of her, wasn't it?
Father?
She sent the thought without much hope of reaching Lew Alton. It was hard to
concentrate on horseback, and she was surprised when she felt an answering thought.
Marguerida! Are you all right?
Yes, I am fine, and Mikhail is fine. We are not trying to elope, really, though that is
probably what people are imagining.
The relief at his mental presence was enormous.
You were not even missed at first. Everyone was too busy seeing to Ariel—until she
screamed, we were all standing about like statuary. I can only guess for how long. But
Gisela noticed your absence, and raised the alarm. For a woman with a beautiful
voice, she has a piercing shriek. And I am going to have a hell of a time thinking of a
plausible explanation for your Ida. That is the least of my problems.
I am sorry, Father. We did not plan to dash off like this, really.
1 know that, Marguerida. And at the moment, we have our hands full here. Whatever
that was that called you and bewitched the rest of us played havoc with . . .
What!
She could tell he was anxious about something that he was not telling her.
Several people were badly injured, Marguerida. I can only hope they can be healed.
This is going to be a memorable night, if I survive it.
Margaret realized he was not
going to give her any details, and she could not decide whether she was relieved or
annoyed. But she now knew Lew well enough to be aware that he was not going to
budge, once he had made up his mind.
What about Gisela?
She is furious, of course. And
Dom
Damon cannot quite decide if he is outraged or
insulted. Don't think about them. Worry about the company of Guardsmen racing after
you.
Don't worry. They won't catch us.
How do you know?
I just do.
Margaret was too tired to try and explain more.
Where are you going? Do you know that?
Mali Tower
—
and that is all that I-know now. But, Father, I will be back. I know that,
and I swear it.
How do you know you are coming back?
I
just know.
She kept her doubts out of her mind.
Hell and damnation! Very well
—I
suppose I will have to be satisfied with that.
Godspeed, daughter, and come back as soon as you can. And take care of yourself. I
could not bear to lose you, now, when I have just found you.
I know, dear Father. And I promise I will come back in one piece
—
you have my oath!
Then Lew Alton Was gone, and Margaret urged her horse faster into the night.
By the time Margaret and Mikhail reached the ruins of Hali Tower, it was well past
midnight, and the sky had begun to cloud up. The smell of snow was heavy on the
wind, but none had fallen yet. In the light of the four moons, now close to midheaven,
the eerie mists of the lake shone brightly. It was very quiet, except for the wind. The
horses were weary, and even the bay hung its proud head as they drew to a halt.
They dismounted stiffly, and tugged their cloaks about them against the increasing
cold. Margaret stroked Dorilys' side, feeling the heaving of her breath, and the sweat
on the great muscles. "Good girl." She knew that she should tend the horse, walk her
until she cooled down properly, but there was no time.
"Now what?" Mikhail sounded tired in the moonlight.
"I haven't a clue. I think we just have to wait." It was all she could do to keep on her
feet now.
"Does all this seem as insane to you right now, as it does to me, Marguerida? I mean,
here we are, out in the middle of the night, without food, obeying the gods know what.
We have arrived at our destination, and all that is there is a pile of blackened stones—
nothing like the Tower we saw last summer. I have never done anything so foolhardy
in my life. I mean, what if nothing happens?"
Margaret was too tired to argue. She shrugged, put her arm around him, and rested her
head on his shoulder. He smelled of horse and wine, plus the now familiar scent that
sang Mikhail to her, which she would recognize anywhere in the galaxy. "Then nothing
happens, and the Guardsmen find us, and we go back to Thendara and are a
laughingstock for years to come. I can live with that—can't you?"
They stood in silence, holding each other lightly, neither
speaking nor touching one another's minds. There was a deep content in the embrace, a
sensation free of desire or longing. But for the growing cold, Margaret would have
been happy to remain like that forever.
The sound of men and horses not very far away broke the spell. They could hear the
jingle of bridles, the breathy snorts of exhausted steeds, and voices coming nearer.
Margaret looked at Mikhail, and he met her eyes steadily, and they smiled. Then she
kissed his lips softly, and felt his warm breath on her mouth.
NOW!
The mental command startled them, and Margaret glanced over Mikhail's shoulder.
The white stones of Hali Tower stood gleaming in the gathered light of all the moons
of Darkover. It shimmered for a moment, then solidified just as the Guardmen rode