The Shattered Chain (41 page)

When it had all been settled, and Hastur and Lady Rohana and Montray—his son at his elbow to keep him from any too offensive mistakes—were exchanging amenities, Peter and Jaelle and Magda met for a moment in the doorway of the Council chamber. Peter knew the custom of the Domains too well to touch Jaelle in public, but his quick glance at her was like an embrace. But he spoke to Magda, with raillery: “So you’ve had your own way, Mag, and made us all look like fools—doing what no man could manage to do! Have you really such contempt for us all, then?”

“Contempt? Not really,” Magda said, but she could not help flicking a quick look at Montray, which Peter caught. “But he, at least, hasn’t done so well with Darkover so far.”

Peter said, “Everyone knew you were doing the real work of the coordinator’s office, Magda. It’s just the way the breaks run, that you couldn’t have the title, too. Maybe someday you can have the job.”

She smiled without bitterness and said, “No, thanks. Why don’t you try for it, Peter?” She felt the strange little prickles of the hunch running up and down her spine as she spoke. “You’ll make a good coordinator—or the first Legate, someday. I have something better to do.”

“You’ve already done miracles,” he said, clasping her hands warmly, and she shook her head.

“It wasn’t I. It was Jaelle—and the Guild-mothers.” He said under his breath to Jaelle, “You are wonderful! I never believed you could do it!”

Jaelle said quietly, “I think you do not believe that women can do many things, Piedro, in spite of what Margali has done for us both. But perhaps you will learn, someday. I believed, for a time, that women among your people were more free than mine. Now I know that there is really not so much difference between Terra and Darkover. My foster-mother told me, once, that it was better to wear chains than to believe you are free, and weight yourself with invisible chains.” Then she smiled at him, a luminous smile. “But there is always hope, and I am committed to a day when we are part of the Empire from the stars, and when we are not all strangers and aliens, but all people are—are—” She hesitated, stumbled for a word, and Peter said, “Where all men are brothers?”

She smiled, caught Magda’s eyes and said, “And sisters.”

He said, “Well, politics can wait; you and I have other things to think of today! Magda, will you come with us when we declare ourselves before witnesses?”

“I cannot,” she said, glancing at the Guild-mothers. “I am not really supposed to leave the Guild-house for half a year after I am sworn.” Suddenly she held out her hands.

“Oh, Peter, wish me luck! Don’t hold it against me!”

He gave her a brief, almost brotherly hug. “I do, Mag,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Looks like you’ll need luck with those old battle-axes! But it’s what you want, so be happy, love.”

She said, “Jaelle—” and impetuously—Jaelle flung her arms around Magda, holding her tight. Magda whispered, “You be happy, too.” “I’ll come and see you,” Jaelle promised. “Thendara house is my home, too.”

Peter said, “But you must promise not to turn her against me, Magda! Must I cope with all those mothers-in-law?”

Jaelle said, laughing, “No one could turn me against you. But you must learn someday not to speak so of my mothers and sisters!”

She’s grown up,
Magda thought.
I’ve always thought of her as a young girl. But she isn’t. She’s a woman. She knows him for what he is. And she isn’t infatuated anymore. And she loves him anyway.

He would never understand that there could be loyalties—certainly not loyalties between women— that could go deeper than love. But he would do his best for the world they all loved, and his best would be very good indeed. And for that, if nothing else, Magda knew she would always love him a little.

The Guild-mother Millea turned and beckoned to Magda to join them. Magda kissed Jaelle again and said, “Be good to each other.” Then, slowly, but without looking back, she went across the room to join the three women.

Jaelle, standing and watching her go seemed to catch from her mind the image of a great, opening door swinging wide on a sunlit world and a brightly lighted future.