The Forbidden Tower

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

  And I started on a horse ranch in Arizona!

  He felt equally overawed when, later that day, the Comyn Council gathered in what Callista called the Crystal Chamber, a room high in one of the turrets, fashioned of translucent stone, cut in prisms which flashed with the light of the sun, so that it was like moving in the heart of a rainbow. The room was octagonal, with tiers of seats, each of the Comyn Domains under their own emblem and banner. Callista whispered that every member of a family holding Council-right, and known to have laran, had an indisputable right to appear and speak in Council. As Keeper of Arilinn she had held such a right, though she had seldom bothered to come.

  Leonie was there with the Hasturs; Andrew looked away from her. But for her, Callista might now be his wife in more than name and perhaps it would be Callista, not Ellemir, bearing his child.

  But then, he thought, he would never have known Ellemir. How could he wish for that?

  Dom Esteban, pale and drawn but straight and dignified in his wheeled chair, sat in the lowest ranks of seats, at floor level. On either side his sons were seated, Valdir pale and excited, Dezi’s face smooth and unreadable. Andrew saw the lifted eyebrows, the curious glances at Dezi. The family resemblance was unmistakable, and for Dom Esteban to seat Dezi at his side in the Crystal Chamber was like a belated public acknowledgment.

  Lorill Hastur’s voice was deep and solemn. “This morning we paid our respects to the heir to Alton, tragically killed by misadventure. But life goes on, and we must now designate the next heir. Esteban Lanart-Alton, will you—” He amended, looking at the old man in the wheeled chair, “Can you take your place among us? If not, you may speak from where you are.”

  Dezi rose and wheeled the chair forward, returning unobtrusively to his seat.

  “Esteban, I call upon you to designate the next heirs to your Domain, that we may know them and accept them all.”

  Esteban said quietly, “My nearest heir is my youngest legitimate son, Valdir-Lewis Lanart-Ridenow, by my lawful wife di catenas, Marcella Ridenow.” He beckoned Valdir to come forward; the boy knelt at his father’s feet.

  “Valdir-Lewis Lanart-Alton,” Dom Esteban said, for the first time giving him the Domain title used only by the head of the Domain and his nearest heir, “as a younger son you were not sworn to Comyn even by proxy, and because of your youth, no formal oath may be required or accepted. I ask you only, then, if you will abide faithfully by vows sworn in your name, and repeat them for yourself when you are lawfully of an age to do so.”

  The boy’s voice was shaking. “I will.”

  “Then,” and he gestured to Valdir to rise and formally embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks, “I name you heir to Alton. Is there any to challenge this?”

  Gabriel Ardais, a man in his sixties, tall and soldierly but graying and gaunt, with the pallor of ill-health, said in a harsh and rusty voice, “I do not challenge, Esteban, that the boy is lawfully born and looks healthy, and my fosterling Valentine, who was his playmate at Nevarsin, tells me he is quick and intelligent. But I like it not, that the heir to so powerful a Domain should be a minor child. Your health is uncertain, Esteban; you must consider the possibility that you may not live for Valdir to reach manhood. A regent, to the Domain should be appointed.”

  “I am ready to appoint a regent,” Esteban said. “My next heir after Valdir is the unborn son of my daughter Ellemir. By your leave, my lords, I will designate her husband, Damon Ridenow, as regent of Alton, and guardian of Valdir and the unborn child.”

  “He is not an Alton,” Aran Elhalyn protested, and Esteban answered, “He is nearer kin than many others; his mother was my youngest sister Camilla. He is my nephew, and bears laran, and he holds marriage-right in the Domain.”

  Aran said, “I know Lord Damon. He is no youth, but a responsible man nearing his fortieth year. He has borne honorably many responsibilities given to Comyn sons. But we were not informed in Council of this marriage. May we ask why a marriage between Comyn son and comynara was made in such unseemly haste, and under only a freemate bond?”

  “It was not Council season,” Esteban said, “and the young people did not want to wait half a year.”

  “Damon,” said Lorill Hastur, “if you are to be named regent to a Domain, it would seem more suitable for your marriage to be made lawfully under Council law, di catenas. Are you willing to marry Ellemir Lanart with full ceremony?”

  Damon replied good-naturedly, his hand on Ellemir’s, “I will marry her a dozen times if you will, under any ritual you like, if she will have me.”

  Ellemir laughed aloud, a merry little ripple. “Can you doubt that, my husband?”

  “Then come forward, Damon Ridenow of Serrais.” Damon made his way into the central space of the room, and Lorill asked solemnly, “Damon, are you free to accept this obligation? Are you heir to your own Domain?”

  “Not within a dozen places,” said Damon. “I have four older brothers, and among them, I believe, they have eleven sons, or had when I last counted; it may be more by now. And Lorenz is already twice a grandfather. I will swear allegiance to Alton willingly, if my brother and Lord of Serrais will give me leave.”

  “Lorenz?” Lorill asked with a glance at the side of the room where the Ridenow lords sat. Lorenz shrugged. “Damon may do as he will. He is of responsible years, and not likely to succeed to the heirship of Serrais. He is married into the Alton Domain. I consent.”

  Damon glanced at Andrew with a comical lift of one eyebrow, and Andrew picked up his thought: Surely that is the first time Lorenz has ever approved entirely of anything I did. But outwardly he was solemn, as befitted this most serious of occasions.

  “Kneel, then, Damon Ridenow,” Lorill said. “You have been named regent and guardian to the Alton Domain, as nearest of male kin to Valdir-Lewis Lanart-Alton, heir to Alton, and to the unborn son of Ellemir, your lawful wife. Are you prepared to swear allegiance to the lord of the Domain, Warden of Alton, and to renounce all other loyalties save that to the King and the Gods?”

  Damon said steadily, “I do so swear.”

  “Are you prepared to assume wardship of the Domain, should the lawful head of the Domain be unable through age, illness or infirmity to act in such capacity; and to swear that you will guard and protect the next heirs to Alton with your own life, if the Gods shall ordain it so?”

  “I do so swear.”

  Ellemir, watching from her place, could see the fine sweat at Damon’s hairline, and knew that Damon did not want this. He would do it for the sake of the children, Valdir and her son, but he did not want it. And fiercely, to herself, she hoped her father knew what he was doing to Damon!

  Lorill Hastur said, “Do you solemnly declare that to the best of your knowledge you are fit to assume this responsibility? Is there any man who will challenge your right to this solemn wardship of the people of your Domain, the people of all the Domains, the people of, all Darkover?”

  Kneeling, Damon thought, Who would be truly fit for such a responsibility? Not I, Aldones, Lord of Light, not I! Yet I will do the best I can, I swear it before all the Gods. For Valdir, for Ellemir and her child.

  He said aloud, “I will abide the challenge.”

  Danvan Hastur, commander of the Honor Guard for the Council, strode to the center of the room, where Damon still knelt, the rainbow light playing over his face. Sword in hand, he called in a loud voice, “Is there any to challenge the wardship of Damon Ridenow-Alton, Regent of Alton?”

  Into the silence a young voice said, “I challenge.” Damon, startled, feeling Andrew’s consternation even from where he sat at the very back of the Alton seats, raised his head to see Dezi step forward, take the sword from Lorill’s hand.

  “On what grounds?” Lorill inquired. “And by what right? You are not known to me, young man.”

  Dom Esteban looked at Dezi in dismay. His voice trembled. “Do you not trust me, Dezi, my son?”

  Deri ignored the words and the tenderness in them. “I am Desiderio Leynier
, nedestro son of Gwennis Leynier by Esteban Lanart-Alton, as the only surviving grown son of the lord of the Domain, I claim the right to act as guardian to my brother and the unborn son of my sister.”

  Lorill said sternly, “We have no records of any acknowledged nedestro sons of Esteban Lanart-Alton save for the two sons of Larissa d’Asturien, who are without laran and thus by law excluded from this Council. May I ask why you were never acknowledged?”

  “As for that,” said Dezi, with a smile that barely escaped insolence, “you must ask my father. But I call the Lady of Arilinn to witness that I am Alton, and bear the gift of the Domain in full measure.”

  At Lorill’s question, Leonie rose, her frown showing her distaste for this proceeding. “It is none of my affair to designate heirships in Comyn, yet since I have been called to witness, I must state that Desiderio speaks truth: he is son to Esteban Lanart and bears the Alton gift.”

  Esteban said heavily, “I am ready and willing to acknowledge Dezi as my son if this Council will have it so; I brought him here for that purpose. But I do not feel him the most appropriate Guardian for my young son or my unborn grandson. Damon is a man of mature years, Dezi but a youth. I ask Dezi to withdraw the challenge.”

  “With all respect, Father,” Dezi said deferentially, “I cannot.”

  Damon, kneeling, wondered, what would happen now. Traditionally the challenge could be settled by combat, a formal duel, or one challenger could withdraw, or either one could present evidence to be examined by Council, purporting to prove that the other was unfit. Lorill was explaining this.

  “Have you reason to think Damon unfit, Desiderio Leynier, nedestro of Alton?”

  “I have.” Dezi’s voice was shrill. “I submit that Damon attempted to murder me, to make his own claim more secure. He knew me Esteban’s son, while he was but son-in-law to Alton, and therefore he stripped me of my matrix. It was only my own skill at laran which kept him from blood-guilt on a brother-by-marriage.”

  Oh, my God, thought Andrew, feeling the breath catch in his throat. That bastard, that Goddamned stinking young bastard. Who but Dezi could cook up something like this?

  Lorill Hastur said, “That is an extremely serious accusation, Damon. You have honorably served the Comyn for many years. We need not even listen to it, if you can give us some explanation.”

  Damon swallowed and looked up, conscious of the eyes of all of them on his face. He said steadily, “I was sworn to Arilinn; I took oath there to prevent misuse of any matrix. I took it from Dezi under that oath, for he had misused laran by forcing his will upon my sister’s husband, Ann’dra.”

  “True,” Dezi said defiantly without waiting for the challenge. “My sister Callista is besotted by this come-by-chance from nowhere, a Terranan. I sought only to get rid of this fellow from nowhere who has cast such an evil spell on her, so that she may make a marriage worthy of a Comyn lady, not disgrace herself in the bed of a Terranan spy.”

  General uproar. Damon sprang to his feet, enraged, but Dezi stood facing him, defiant, slightly mocking. It seemed that everyone in the Crystal Chamber was talking, shouting, questioning at once. Lorill Hastur again and again vainly commanded silence.

  When some semblance of order was restored he said, looking grave, “We must inquire into this matter privately. Very serious charges and counter-charges have been laid. For now, I bid you to disperse, and not to discuss this matter among yourselves. Gossip will not better it. Beware of careless fire in the forest; beware of careless talk even among the wise. But be assured, we will look into the rights and wrongs of this matter, and present it for your judgment within three days from now.”

  Slowly the room emptied. Esteban deathly pale, looked sadly at Damon and Dezi. He said, “When brothers are at odds, strangers step in to widen the gap. Dezi, how can you do this?”

  Dezi set his jaw. He said, “Father, I live only to serve you. Do you doubt me?” He looked at Ellemir, clinging to Damon’s arm, then said to Callista, “Some day you will thank me, my sister.”

  “Sister!” Callistra looked Dezi full in the eyes, then, deliberately, she spat in his face and turned away. Laying her fingertips on Andrew’s arm, she said clearly, “Take me out of here, my husband. The place stinks of treachery.”

  “Daughter—” Dom Esteban pleaded, but Callista turned her back and Andrew had no choice but to follow. But his heart was pounding, and his thoughts seemed to echo the troubled rhythm: What now?

  * * *

  Chapter Nineteen

  « ^ »

  In their own rooms, Callista turned to Andrew, saying vehemently, “He killed Domenic! I do not know how he managed it, but I am sure of it!”

  “There is only one way it could have been done,” Damon said, “and I am afraid to believe he was that strong!”

  Ellemir asked, “Could he have forced Cathal’s mind, made him strike Domenic at a vulnerable spot? He has the Alton gift and can force rapport…” But she sounded hesitant, and Callista shook her head.

  “Not without killing Cathal, or inflicting so much brain damage that Cathal’s very condition would tell the tale.”

  Damon’s face was bleak and unreadable. “Dezi has the talent to do a Keeper’s work,” he said, “we all saw that when I took his matrix from him. He can handle or modify another’s stone, adapt it to his own resonances. I think, left alone with Domenic, injured, but alive, he could not resist the temptation to have one in his hands again. And when he took Domenic’s from his throat”—he flinched, and Andrew saw that his hands were shaking— “Domenic’s heart stopped with the shock. A perfect, undetectable murder, since there was no known Keeper there, and most people did not know Domenic even possessed a matrix. And it would explain why Dezi is barricaded from me.”

  Callista’s voice shook. “Among telepaths he must go barricaded till the day of his death, a dreadful fate indeed!”

  Ellemir said savagely, “Not half so dreadful as the death he gave Domenic!”

  “It is worse than you realize,” Damon said in a low voice. “Do you think, now that he knows his power, that Valdir is safe? How long will he spare Valdir, now that only Valdir lies between him and the heritage of Alton? And when he has Dom Esteban’s ear and perfect trust, who else lies between him and the lordship of the Domain?”

  Ellemir turned white, her hands going to her body as if to shield the child who cradled there. “I told you you should have killed him,” she said, beginning to cry. Callista looked at Ellemir in consternation.

  “It would be all too simple, a few fragile blood vessels to sever, and the unborn child bleeds to death, his link to life gone.”

  “Don’t!” Ellemir cried.

  “Why do you think we are so careful, in teaching psi monitors?” Callista asked. “Women in the Towers are careful not to get pregnant during their term of work, but it does happen, of course. And Dezi learned there to monitor—Avarra’s mercy, it was I who taught him! And learning the vulnerable spots, learning how not to damage mother or child, makes it easy to learn to violate them.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” Andrew said, speaking for the first time, “but I wouldn’t hang a dog without more proof than we have here. Will there ever be any way to prove it?” Even if Dezi had killed Domenic by taking the matrix from the stunned and unconscious boy, he had only to fling away a bit of dead crystal.

  Damon’s face was set. “I believe Dezi’s own weakness will expose him. True, he could have disposed of the proof, but I do not believe he could give up that kind of power. Would he be able to resist the temptation to have one again in his own hands? Not if I know our Dezi. And he could modify the stone to his use, which means there is still a witness against him. Silent. But a witness.”

  “Fine,” said Andrew sarcastically. “We have only to go to him and say hand over the matrix you killed Domenic to get, like a good boy.”

  Damon’s hand clutched his own matrix as if for reassurance. “If he is carrying a modified matrix the relay screens in Arilinn a
nd the other Towers will show it.”

  “Fine,” Andrew said again. “How far is Arilinri from here? A tenday’s ride, or more?”

  “It is simpler than that,” Callista told him. “There are relay screens here in the Old Tower of Comyn Castle. In time past, so they say, technicians could teleport themselves between Towers by use of the great screens. It isn’t done much anymore. But there are also monitor screens, attuned to those in the other Towers. Any mechanic can link into those and trace any licensed matrix on Darkover.” She hesitated. “I cannot… I have given back my oath.”

  Damon was impatient with this technicality. Such a loss to the Towers, such a loss to Callista, but whatever Keeper or mechanic was now in charge of the Old Tower, she would observe the prohibition, and there was nothing to be done.

  “Who keeps the Old Tower, Callista? I cannot believe that the Mother Ashara would receive us on such an errand.”

  “No one within living memory has seen Ashara outside the Tower,” Callista said. “I think she could no longer leave it if she would, she is so old. I myself have never seen her, except in the screens, nor, I think, has even Leonie. But when last I heard, Margwenn Elhalyn was her under-Keeper; she will tell you what you want to know.”

  “Margwenn was psi monitor at Arilinn when I was Third there,” Damon said. “She went from us to Hali; I did not know she had come here.” Technicians, mechanics, monitors were moved from Tower to Tower, as the need was greatest. If Margwenn Elhalyn was not precisely an old friend, at least she knew who he was and it saved lengthy explanations about what he wanted.

  He had never been inside the Old Tower of Comyn Castle. Margwenn admitted him to the matrix chamber, a place of ancient screens and lattices, machinery whose very existence had been forgotten since the Ages of Chaos. Damon, his errand forgotten for a moment, stared at it in avid curiosity. Why had all this technology, the ancient science of Darkover, been allowed to sink into obscurity? Even at Arilinn he had not learned to use all these things. True, there were too few technicians and mechanics even to staff the relays which provided communications and generated essential energy for certain technologies, but even if matrix workers were no longer willing, in these self-indulgent days, to give up their lives and live guarded behind walls, surely some of these things could be done outside!