Free Traitor's Sun by Marion Zimmer Bradley Page A

Comyn Castle before, but he had heard that the place was a regular warren of halls and stairs. The children shucked off their cloaks and observed their surroundings with interest, but Katherine just walked with her eyes straight ahead, her back rigid, and her face empty, like the survivor of some unnatural disaster.
    “We did not have much warning of your arrival, Herm, so your quarters are probably a bit chaotic. The bed linens will be clean though, even if the hangings are a little moth-eaten.”
    “After days in the berths of a cabin, it will seem quite luxurious, Rafael. Where have you put us?” He wanted to make conversation, meaningless noises to ease the tension in himself.
    “The second Storn apartments, which have not been used except during Midwinter, for ages. The ones that were done up for Lauretta Lanart-Storn years ago. Giz and I use the Aldaran Suite, and it really is not large enough for another family.” He sounded faintly ashamed of this, and Herm just grinned at him.
    “Who is that, Lauretta Lanart-Storn?” Amaury asked.
    “She was the wife of my grandfather, although she is not a blood relation of mine,” Herm replied.
    “How can that be?”
    “My father was not her son, Amaury.”
    “Sounds confusing.”
    Herm chuckled, happy to find anything to be amused at. “It is. Darkovan geneologies are rather difficult, and often bewildering, even to those of us who know them from the cradle.”
    “Why is that, Father?” Amaury appeared genuinely interested as they continued down the long hall, past burning lampions and rather faded tapestries.
    Herm looked at his stepson, and for the first time, wondered if he had done the right thing, bringing the boy to Darkover. He was a rather sensitive child, with his mother’s quick mind and deep intuition, and who knew what from his father. The tension between his parents had left him anxious and concerned, although he was hiding it rather well. He was trying to ease things, as Herm himself had done with his own father, long before. What kind of place could be found for him here? He was just too tired to think about it. “We are a small population, and the families of the Domains, like the Aldarans or Altons, and the lesser families, like the Lanarts and the Storns, have been intermarrying for centuries. Everyone is related to everyone else, if you go back far enough. For instance, Rafael here is a Lanart on his father’s side, but I cannot guess just how he might be connected to Lauretta.”
    “Neither can I,” Rafael put in, grinning easily, “but Gisela would know. She is very good at that sort of thing.”
    “You amaze me, for the last thing I would have suspected my sister of is an interest in geneology,” Herm answered. “When I left Darkover, she was still a girl, and her only pursuits seemed to have been hunting, reading Terranan novels, and getting new clothes as often as she could cajole our father to allow her.”
    “That has not changed,” Rafael admitted, “but she is too intelligent to limit herself. She has been working on a book on chess for several years, and what I have read of it is very good. And she has read just about every book in the Castle Archive, I think.”
    “My sister an author? Amazing!”
    “She tells me it keeps her from getting bored, for she does not find minding the children at all to her taste.”
    “How many are there now—I have lost count.”
    “There are Caleb and Rakhal, her children by her first husband, and our daughter Casilde, and our sons Gabriel and Damon. Rakhal is at Arilinn and intends to remain, and Casilde will go there soon.” I hope she gives up this mad idea of becoming a Renunciate. A pity that Marguerida’s friend Rafaella is so attractive, and makes the Renunciates seem so romantic. She will outgrow it, for it cannot be a pleasant life. Fatherhood is much more difficult than I ever imagined. “And the boys are just being boys, and it is all I can do to keep them out of too much