Then she remembered the foam splint in her medkit. It came with instructions for immobilizing broken bones, didn’t it? Of course it did—the Terrans had instructions for everything. It was how they did things! But the chances of relaying that information in the midst of the uproar, or getting close enough to the injured child to apply the tool, seemed impossible .
Ariel had continued to moan all during this, and now she began to scream again. “I fell on him! I felt him underneath me. But it isn’t my fault. I love my children! You did this, you . . .” She pointed an accusing finger at Margaret.
Margaret shrank against the wall, devastated.
Liriel appeared from behind the group in the entry, rubbing her eyes as if she had been napping, and took in the scene. As her sister screamed, she walked forward and slapped Ariel smartly across the face. “That is quite enough! If you hadn’t dashed out of here when a storm was coming, none of this would have happened.”
“She frightened me,” whimpered Ariel “Marguerida frightened me. This is her fault, not mine.”
“Accidents are not anyone’s fault, Ariel,” Jeff said sternly. “We know you love your children, chiya, and that you care for them. This is a terrible tragedy for everyone.”
Instead of calming down at Jeff’s words, Ariel turned red with fury. “What do you know, old man. You are on her side. Everyone is against me! Everyone thinks I am just a silly woman, but I know things you’ll never know! I know you can’t understand what it is to be a mother.” Ariel’s tirade degenerated into sobs. “My baby . . . my baby . . .”
Liriel pursed her generous lips and looked at Jeff for a moment. She is going to lose the child she bears if she doesn’t calm down, and that will finish her. We have to get her into bed before she gets sick. My poor sister. If only I had realized how unhappy she was.
Margaret felt her continued presence was more of a hindrance than a help, and started to withdraw from the entry. Mikhail’s hand on the small of her back stopped her. Don’t leave yet.
Why not? It is just upsetting Ariel to look at me.
I don’t think so. I know she is blaming you, but I think she knows that Domenic’s injury is as much her fault as anyone’s. She sensed his strength beside her, his strength and clear-headedness. It was wonderful—or would have been if she had not felt quite so shattered.
Liriel thinks she will miscarry if she doesn’t calm down, and I can’t see how standing here is going to help, Mikhail. Besides, if I go upstairs, I can get my medkit. There is a splint in it that just might help.
Really? It is good to know that someone is thinking about doing something—instead of having a fit of hysteria. I’ll get it—I have the image of the kit in my mind now.
But I can find it faster.
No, cousin. I can be back quickly. You should stay here—trust me. Liriel is right that if she loses the child in her womb, she will never be sane again. She is close to breaking. Can you bring yourself to say something to her—anything at all?
Of course—but I think it is likely to upset her more. I’ll do anything to help.
Mikhail turned and charged up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and Margaret swallowed, trying to think of something she could say. Why her? She didn’t know Ariel very well. She heard the thump of his bootless feet on the wood of the floor above, and shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Liriel tried to get her sister to let go of the small, limp body. Domenic gave no further protest, but Margaret knew the boy was not dead, not yet anyhow. If his mother didn’t let go of him, he would be, though. Ariel resisted, continuing to insist that her family hated her, that she was misunderstood and a great deal more. It was pathetic, but it was also painful, for Javanne looked close to tears, and Jeff seemed helpless.
Margaret swallowed hard, her mouth very dry, and close to tears herself. She moved closer to Ariel, carefully, so as not to frighten her. “Cousin, you must think of the child within you,” she said quietly. The words came from some deep, caring place within her, someplace she had never known she possessed. “You would not wish to harm her, would you?”
“Her?” Ariel’s voice, raw from screaming, was feeble and raspy.
“Yes, it is the daughter you have longed for.”
“How do you know?” Ariel’s eyes were completely unfocused, and she did not seem to be aware that she was speaking to the woman she believed to be the author of her sorrow.
“Liriel told me earlier today.”
“Did you?” Ariel turned to her sister, and her arms began to sag.
Liriel took rapid advantage of this, and slipped her arms beneath the still form of the boy. His chest rose and fell slightly. “Yes, I did. I would have told you, but you ran off before I could.” She clasped Domenic’s body against her generous bosom. Then Jeff took the child from her in his long arms, supporting the lolling head with care.
“A girl. At last I will have a girl to love me.” Ariel seemed to steady then, and began to stroke her still flat belly, caressing it sensuously. “I have always wanted a daughter to love me.”
“And you will have her,” Liriel answered, giving Margaret a quick glance of approval, “but you must be calm for her.”
Suddenly, Margaret had the sense of vision she had experienced at the dining table a few hours before. “She will be beautiful,” she said, not thinking of the consequences of her words.
Ariel, who had been almost dazed a moment before, looked at Margaret intensely. “What do you see? Tell me!”
“I don’t think that would be wise,” Margaret answered, though nothing in her vision was at all alarming.
“I don’t care what you think!” Ariel’s voice rose. “You must tell me, right now! ’
“She will be beautiful and she will be healthy—what more can a mother ask for?”
“I don’t care if she’s beautiful,” Ariel whispered. “I just want her to love me.”
At these words Margaret saw her cousin’s unborn child as a young woman, tall and russet-haired and striking. She had something of Javanne’s look, the same strong jaw and fierce eyes, and there was something powerful in the gaze that stared back into Margaret’s inner eyes, powerful and willful. “Of course she will love you. You are a good mother, and she cannot help but love you.” As she spoke, Margaret knew she lied. Ariel was doomed to be disappointed in her daughter. She wondered if there was some way to make things better, to keep this unborn babe from becoming the wild, passionate, troublesome woman she foresaw. “You will name her Alanna, after your grandmother.” Not an entirely felicitous choice. She should be Deirdre for all the sorrow she will bring to Darkover. Perhaps she was wrong. Margaret hoped she was, because what she could see of that future told of a woman who could not love Ariel as she longed to be loved.
Javanne gave her niece a sharp look. I thank you for being kind to my little daughter, and I hope you are wrong in your vision. I never knew she felt so . . . unwanted and unloved until today.
Mother, it is not your fault! Liriel’s mental voice was firm and clear. You did the best you could for her. You always did the best you could for all of us.
It is kind of you, Liriel, to say that, but I do blame myself. I am a mother, and I should have known how unhappy she would be without laran. Or, perhaps, the fault is in valuing that overmuch. And, in truth, I was not entirely pleased to have twins. Perhaps I did not want her enough.
Stop whipping yourself, Jeff’s command startled Javanne. It is a complete waste of time. You did the best you could, and you could not have done more. Regret will not change anything,
I hate it when you are right, Javanne replied with something like her normal vigor. But, we must see to the child. He may not have taken as much hurt as we imagine, but the danger now is that he will get an inflammation of the lung.
I have monitored him, Mother, as well as I was able, and one of the bones just below the neck is very bad.
I sent Mikhail for my medkit, and he should be back in a moment. There is a device in it th
at might be useful. Margaret felt anxious at holding out hope, but she knew it was the right thing to do. Indeed, Javanne looked at her with more favor than she had since she arrived.
Piedro had taken his wife’s hands and was talking to her very softly, so gently that Margaret felt something like envy stir within her. As he drew Ariel toward the stairs, she wondered if she would ever arouse such a fine tenderness in another person. She watched them move upstairs, and felt exhausted and miserable. Her wet garments clung to her skin, chilling her, and she noticed that she had dripped a large puddle on the floor.
Mikhail nearly crashed into them, rushing down the stairs, but neither Ariel nor Piedro seemed to notice his descent. He had the medkit in his hand, and his face was rather rosy with embarrassment. Of course—Rafaella was asleep upstairs! If she hadn’t been so tired and upset, Margaret would have been amused.
In a moment, Jeff had laid Domenic on the floor of the entry and stretched out his small limbs. His head rested crookedly above his slender neck. “This is no place for a field hospital, but I do not want to move the boy around any further,” the old man said. “Someone fetch some warm blankets—he is shocky, and that will do him no good. Now, Mik, give me that kit. Lord, it has been a long time since I saw one of these. Hmm. They seem to have added some things.” He started to sort through the contents, and Margaret knelt down beside him.
The remaining children watched these activities with stricken eyes. Javanne seemed torn between wanting to follow her daughter up the stairs and caring for her grandchildren. At last, she bent down and patted Damon on the shoulder. “Your mother will be fine now. But your father has to take care of her, so I expect you to help us with your brothers.” Her voice carried above the renewed roar of the storm outside, and, for once, she did not sound too certain of herself.
Damon puffed out his little chest and looked proud. This brave gesture made the remaining adults smile, in spite of the circumstances. “Yes. I can do that.” He turned to Donal. “Get Lewis, and I’ll take Kennard.”
Donal gave his brother a look of momentary rebellion, then shrugged. Of all the children he seemed the least upset, and Margaret found herself envying his resilience. “Come on, Lewee. You have to get some dry clothes or you will get sick, and Nurse will make you drink kamfer tea.” He reached for his younger brother’s hand, and the child took it, making a face which said that he would do nearly anything to avoid the threatened remedy. Now I am second, and I will learn to read, like Dom did, and be very learned like Mikhail and Marguerida.
Javanne was clearly shocked by this childish opportunism, but Mikhail almost laughed. “He can’t help it, Mother. Being third is no fun at all.”
Margaret had pulled the foam splint out of the kit, and was reading the instructions that came with it. It seemed easy enough, but she was terrified that now they would do more harm than good. If only they could take Domenic to a real hospital! If only they could call a plane or a helicopter to come and take him to Terran HQ! Her fingers were cold, and she dropped the splint into her lap, then snatched it back, swearing.
Jeff, beside her, was very calm, and that steadied her. But there was a kind of thundering in her mind that had nothing to do with the storm outside. It felt like the hoofbeats of some enormous equine coming closer and closer, and that, plus the general uproar in the entry, made it very hard to concentrate. Margaret wished she knew a way to block out the spillover of thoughts. Dartan, the coridom, returned with a pile of blankets. He and Jeff got one under the small boy, and wrapped it around him.
She thought she understood the instructions now, and while Jeff lifted the little head, she slipped the device under Domenic’s neck. He looked so small and so helpless that her heart clenched. After they had positioned it as well as they could, with some advice from Jeff, who was able, she supposed, to somehow see where the lad was injured using his laran, she pressed the tab on the side of the splint. It expanded slowly, surrounding the neck without putting any pressure on the throat, lifting Domenic’s head up from the floorboards a couple of inches. Jeff thrust a rolled-up blanket under the head, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Now, at least, it would be possible to take the boy to a bed without further damaging his spine, and that was the best she could manage. It did not seem like nearly enough.
Suddenly there was a tremendous banging at the door. Margaret looked up as Dartan rose from his knees on the other side of the child and hurried toward the booming noise. She felt something tug at her heart, something strong and wonderful and unexpected.
Before she could wonder what it was, Dartan pulled the huge door open, and a dripping figure moved into the light of the entry. It was cloaked and hooded, and the wind from outside blew the folds of wet cloth against the stranger, shoving the hood down over his face. Then an arm without a hand thrust the cloak away below the breast, and she jumped up and flew across the floor, heedless of the puddles.
Margaret nearly slipped twice in the short distance to the door. Then she flung herself against the soaking form of the newcomer. “Father!” was all she could say, and then she burst into tears.
Lew Alton pushed the hood back, sending a shower of drops down on her head, and drew her against his chest with both arms. Margaret could feel her aunt stiffen behind her, and a wave of mixed emotions flooded from the older woman. She was angry, shocked, displeased, and resigned all at once.
Oh, do stop being such a high-stickler, Javanne. I haven’t seen her for more than a decade! Customs be damned!
I know, but I still don’t like it. And I still don’t like you, Lew.
Isn’t it a mercy, then, that we never married!
Javanne, despite her mild outrage, laughed at this. “You are still a rascal, and a storm crow.”
“Now, Javanne, surely you cannot blame me for Darkovan weather! There, there, Marja. I know you are glad to see me—you are glad, aren’t you?—but you are strangling me! A fine welcome home. Why is everyone standing around dripping in the foyer?”
Margaret hardly knew what to make of the man she clung to. He was making jokes, and the Lew Alton she remembered did not do that. He was teasing Javanne, and she was not a woman who seemed a good candidate for that. More, Javanne actually seemed to be enjoying it. He felt different under her hands—almost cheerful. And yet, beneath it, she could sense a kind of deep sorrow, not an old one, but something new and fresh. “Of course I am glad—what took you so long?”
Lew chuckled and ruffled her still damp hair. He had not done that since she was a child, and the touch of his fingers nearly overset her again. Instead, Margaret snuffled against his shoulder. He smelled of rain and Darkovan cloth, but most of all he smelled right. She had not known, until that moment, how much she missed the scent of him, the sound of his strong voice, and the feel of his arm around her shoulders.
“If I could have been here sooner, I would have, chiya.”
“I know. You kept telling me, but I couldn’t quite believe it was real. So many strange things have happened . . .”
“I have been a pretty sorry excuse for a parent, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But I know you couldn’t help it.”
Lew Alton looked down at his daughter’s head against his shoulder. She could feel his regrets welling up in his chest. You have a generous heart, Marja. I can’t imagine where you got it—not from me and not from . . . He could not let himself think of Thyra.
I think it was Dio, Father. Where is she?
She stayed behind in Thendara, with Regis and Linnea.
Margaret could feel him holding something back. His arm around her tensed slightly, and even his mental voice seemed strained. After a second she was sure it was the source of that deep sorrow she had sensed a moment before, and her heart went cold. She shivered with chill, both physical and emotional. What’s wrong? Is she ill?
Yes, chiya, she is very ill indeed. It was the last straw, and I brought her home, though I never thought to see the sun of Darkover again.
The last straw?
Later, chiya. I should not call you that, for you are a woman now, but you will always be my little Marja.
They drew apart reluctantly. “I want dry clothes, hot food, and I want them now.” Lew announced this as if he expected the items to appear instantly. He seemed to Margaret like a monarch, used to issuing orders, and she had never really seen him like this before. “Then you can tell me why you are all standing around looking like drowned rats.”
Dartan was supervising two servants who were lifting the small form of Domenic from the floor, using the corners of a blanket, and moving gingerly, so as not to jostle the patient. Lew took in the situation as he removed his dripping cloak and hung it from a nearby hook. What happened?
Margaret told him, without words, about the accident, and who the child was, more rapidly than she would have thought possible. She confessed her own unwitting participation in the matter, and Lew gave a deep sigh. Things have not been easy for you, have they, child? This is as much my fault, for not telling you about your history, as anyone’s. We must just hope the child will make a full recovery.
But they don’t have any idea how to fix a spinal injury.
There are things about matrix science that would astonish you, Marguerida. I’ve known them all my life, and they still surprise me.
“Mikhail, take Lew to your rooms, please. I think something of yours will fit him.” Javanne was calm now, almost resigned. “Did you meet Gabriel on the way? He was riding to Thendara.”
Lew goggled at Javanne. “No, and I cannot say I am sorry. We have not seen eye to eye in many years, though once we were friends.”
He went to get Regis to make me his ward, so he could marry me off to his namesake—who is a blooming idiot. Margaret’s mental snarl contained all her frustrations and anger at the events of the afternoon.
Then he will be both wet and disappointed. Lew answered calmly. He seemed steady in a way she had never known him to be, and even though she knew he was worried about Dio, Margaret felt herself become quiet within.