Traitor's Sun by Marion Zimmer Bradley

frustration, and I do not blame him. He has all that power, yet he is still helpless.
    This last thought made no immediate sense to his fatigued mind, so Herm shunted it aside. I don’t suppose there is any chance that the Medical Center at HQ could be useful?
    Them? They have not allowed Darkovans to use the facilities in over five years—ever since the new Station Chief tried to install some media screens in one of the taverns in the Trade City, and Regis ordered them dismantled immediately. Belfontaine retaliated by closing the hospital to any except Federation personnel. That includes a few Darkovans, of course, but . . . we could hardly trust them under the circumstances, could we?
    No—stupid of me to even suggest it. They would likely jump at the chance to finish him off.
    Herm became aware that his wife was watching him closely, and realized that she must be aware that the sudden silence between him and Rafael was peculiar. He had slipped into the easy habit of unspoken conversation without thinking—it was easier than talking just now! But his Kate was observant and intelligent, and she had had a decent amount of sleep during the journey, unlike himself. Herm knew she had used sleep to escape the terror in her mind, to still the voices of protest that rose in her throat. He cleared his voice to conceal his chagrin. “I think something in the way of lunch would be right—soup, bread, tea. They gave us a breakfast of sorts just before we landed.”
    “I will see to it, vai dom, ” Rosalys answered quickly. She gave another curtsy, opened the door of the main bedroom for them, then left the suite.
    Herm followed Katherine into the bedroom as the children went off to the other side of the suite. She rounded on him, her cheeks red and her eyes glittering. “What the hell is going on, Hermes! Don’t give me that hurt look! You drag me off in the middle of the night, refuse to explain anything except that we must leave immediately for Darkover, and you and that man . . . What were you doing?”
    “Doing?” He gave her a hurt look, and tried to appear innocent, his heart sinking down somewhere in the region of his navel. Damn the woman for being so observant!
    Katherine audibly ground her teeth. “Just tell me the whole of it.”
    “Ah, err . . . Rafael was just . . . informing me of . . .” He did not feel very clever, just exhausted and rather stupid.
    “How? Secret hand signals? What were you two up to!” Her voice was uncannily like that of his old nurse in Aldaran Castle, a sound of authority which would not be satisfied until it got to the bottom of the matter. It made him feel small and young and powerless for the first time in decades. “No, not hand signals.”
    When he did not continue, she looked into his face, searching it with her penetrating eyes. He looked down at the floor, at the pattern of the carpet, and shuffled his toe around. He had to get the words out now, before he lost his nerve completely, but he feared the uproar that he knew would follow. If only it could have waited until he was more rested. “Well, if you must know, I was having a conversation with Rafael telepathically.” So much, he thought bitterly, for being a cunning man.
    Katherine was silent for a moment. “Tele . . . Of all the . . . you really mean it, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    Katherine sank down on the edge of the bed and clutched a handful of the hangings between her trembling fingers. “So, that’s it. I’ve always wondered how you could anticipate me so well . . . I could just kill you, Hermes! How could you not have told me you were reading my mind all these years? All my private . . .” He could sense that she did not really believe him, that her mind wanted to refuse what she had just heard. “Surely I would have sensed . . .” she whispered.
    “No, no!” he protested quickly. “I can’t invade your thoughts at will, although there are those on Darkover who can. But I can pick up on your