The thought was curiously disturbing. If in truth he had laran, then he hadno more reasons. But he still didn’t want to give up his dream. He couldn’t say it in words, but evidently Danilo did not expect any. He said, “You’re Hastur. Will they let you?”

“I have my grandfather’s pledge that after three years, if I still want to go, he will not oppose it.” He found himself thinking, with a stab of pain that if he had laranthey certainly would never let him go. The old breathless excitement of the unknown gripped him again; he shivered as he decided not to let them know.

Danilo smiled shyly and said, “I almost envy you. If my father weren’t so old, or if he had another son to look after him, I’d want to come with you. I wish we could go together.”

Regis smiled at him. He couldn’t find words to answer the warmth that gave him. But Danilo said regretfully, “He does need me, though. I can’t leave him while he’s alive. And anyway”—he laughed just a little—“from everything I’ve heard, our world is better than theirs.”

“Still, there must be things we can learn from them. Kennard Alton went to Terra and spent years there.”

“Yes,” Dani said thoughtfully, “but even after that, I notice, he came back.” He glanced at the sun and said, “We’re going to be late. I don’t want to get any demerits; we’d better hurry!”

It was dim in the stairwell that led down between the towers of the castle and neither of them saw a tall man coming down another staircase at an angle to this one, until they all collided, rather sharply, at its foot. The other man recovered first, reached out and took Regis firmly by the elbow, giving his arm a very faint twist. It was too dark to see, but Regis felt, through the touch, the feel and presence of Lew Alton. The experience was such a new thing, such a shock, that he blinked and could not move for a moment.

Lew said good-naturedly, “And now, if we were in the Guard hall, I’d dump you on the floor, just to teach you what to do when you’re surprised in the dark. Well, Regis, you do know you’re supposed to be alert even when you’re off duty, don’t you?”

Regis was still too shaken and surprised to speak. Lew let go his arm and said in sudden dismay, “Regis, did I really hurt you?”

“No—it’s just—” He found himself almost unable to speak because of his agitation. He had not seen Lew. He had not heard his voice. He had simply touched him, in the dark, and it was clearer than seeing and hearing. For some reason it filled him with an almost intolerable anxiety he did not understand.

Lew evidently sensed the distress he was feeling. He let him go and turned to Danilo, saying amiably, “Well, Dani, are you learning to walk with an eye to being surprised and thrown from behind?”

“Am I ever,” Danilo said, laughing. “Gabriel—Captain Lanart-Hastur—caught up with me yesterday. Thistime, though, I managed to block him, so he didn’t throw me. He just showed me the hold he’d used.”

Lew chuckled. “Gabriel is the best wrestler in the Guards,” he said. “I had to learn the hard way. I had bruises everywhere. Every one of the officers had me marked down as the easiest to throw. After my arm had been dislocated by—by accident,” he said, but Regis felt he had started to say something else, “Gabriel finally took pity on me and taught me a few of his secrets. Mostly, though, I relied on keeping out of the officers’ reach. At fourteen I was smaller than you, Dani.”

Regis’ distress was subsiding a little. He said, “It’s not so easy to keep out of the way, though.”

Lew said quietly, “I know. I suppose they have their reasons. It is good training, to keep your wits about you and be on the alert all the time; I was grateful for it later when I was on patrol and had to handle hefty drunks and brawlers twice my size. But I didn’t enjoy the learning, believe me. I remember Father saying to me once that it was better to be hurt a little by a friend than seriously hurt, some day, by an enemy.”

“I don’t mind being hurt,” said Danilo, and with that new and unendurable awareness, Regis realized his voice was trembling as if he was about to cry. “I was bruised all over when I was learning to ride. I can stand the bruises. What I do mind is when—when someone thinks it’s funny to see me take a fall. I didn’t mind it when Lerrys Ridenow caught me and threw me halfway down the stairs yesterday, because he said that was always the most dangerous place to be attacked and I should always be on guard in such a spot. I don’t mind when they’re trying to teach me something. That’s what I’m here for. But now and then someone seems to—to enjoy hurting me, or frightening me.”

They had come away from the stairs now and were walking along an open collonade; Regis could see Lew’s face, and it was grim. He said, “I know that happens. I don’t understand it either. And I’ve never understood why some people seem to feel that making a boy into a man seems to mean making him into a brute. If we’d all been in the Guard hall, I’d have felt compelled to throw Regis ten feet, and I don’t suppose I’d have been any gentler than any other officer. But I don’t like hurting people when there’s no need either. I suppose your cadet-master would think me shamefully remiss in my duty. Don’t tell him, will you?” He grinned suddenly and his hand fell briefly on Danilo’s shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Now you two had better hurry along; you’ll be late.” He turned a corridor at right angles to their own and strode away.

The two cadets hurried down their own way. Regis was thinking that he had never known Lew felt like that. They must have been hard on him, especially Dyan. But how did he know that?

Danilo said, “I wish all the officers were like Lew. I wish he were the cadet-master, don’t you?”

Regis nodded. “I don’t think Lew would want to be cadet-master, though. And from what I’ve heard, Dyan is very serious about honor and responsibility. You heard him speak at Council.”

Danilo’s mouth twisted. “Anyhow, you don’t have to worry. Lord Dyan likes you. Everybody knows that!”

“Jealous?” Regis retorted good-naturedly.

“You’re Comyn,” Danilo said, “you get special treatment.”

The words were a sudden painful reminder of the distance between them, a distance Regis had almost ceased to feel. It hurt. He said, “Dani, don’t be a fool! You mean the fact that he uses me for a partner at sword practice? That’s an honor I’d gladly change with you! If you think it’s love-pats I’m getting from him, take a look at me naked some day—you’re welcome and more than welcome to Dyan’s love-pats!”

He was completely unprepared for the dark crimson flush that flooded Danilo’s face, the sudden fierce anger as he swung around to face Regis. “What the hell do you mean by thatremark?”

Regis stared at him in dismay. “Why, only that sword-practice with Lord Dyan is an honor I’d gladly do without. He’s much stricter than the arms-master and he hits harder! Look at my ribs, you’ll see that I’m black and blue from shoulder to knee! What did you think I meant?”

Danilo turned away and didn’t answer directly. He only said, “We’re going to be late. We’d better run.”

Regis spent the early evening hours on street-patrol in the city with Hjalmar, the giant young Guardsman who had first tested him for swordplay. They broke up two budding brawls, hauled an obstreperous drunk to the brig, directed half a dozen lost country bumpkins to the inn where they had left their horses and gently reminded a few wandering women that harlots were restricted by law to certain districts in the city. A quiet evening in Thendara. When they returned to the Guard hall to go off duty, they fell in with Gabriel Lanart and half a dozen officers who were planning to visit a small tavern near the gates. Regis was about to withdraw when Gabriel stopped him.

“Come along with us, brother. You should see more of the city than you can from the barracks window!”