Rinaldo seemed not to have heard. “This is why we need the one true faith! For too long, ignorance and degrading practices have lured our people into wickedness. Every day, precious souls are lost to sin.
This
is why I was brought from Nevarsin, why such power was given into my hands, not to use for my own pleasure or aggrandizement but for the salvation of our world!”
He paused, visibly gathering himself. “Now we come to a subject I greatly regret, but I would be failing in my duty if I avoided it. Saying this gives me no pleasure, but . . . I have heard rumors. I did not believe them at first. It was impossible that my own brother should be accused of—of—” Wringing his hands, Rinaldo catapulted from his chair and began pacing.
Regis swallowed hard. Keeping his voice calm, he asked, “Exactly what are you talking about?”
“Your . . . relationship with . . . that man. Your paxman. And he a
cristoforo
!”
Regis had hoped that his brother had understood their discussions on the acceptance of differences, whether of Rinaldo’s
emmasca
condition or the Comyn tolerance of
donas amizu
between men. True, Regis and Danilo had always maintained a modicum of discretion. They did not share a bed while staying in public accommodations or at Syrtis. Was Rinaldo so oblivious he had not noticed the bond between them? Or did he, lacking
laran,
think it no more than the loyalty of lord and paxman?
Or did Rinaldo’s religious training render him blind to what he could not accept?
“Do you wish me to address these rumors?” Regis asked. “Think for a moment. Do you really want to hear the truth?”
Rinaldo glanced away, his jaw clenching so that the muscles leaped into stark relief. “These accusations cannot be true, or if they are . . . You must have been deceived, misled, s-sed—” His mouth worked, as if he could not bring himself to pronounce the word
seduced
. “You did not know what you were doing.”
“I beg to differ. I knew
exactly
what I was doing. What I wanted.
Who
I wanted. In all the years since I gave my oath to Danilo and he gave his to me, I have never had a moment’s regret.”
Regis paused to let the words sink in and was met by tight- faced silence.
“I know that this is difficult for you to accept,” Regis went on, “having lived your life according to the
cristoforo
faith. I am not ignorant of the prohibitions against . . .” out of consideration for Rinaldo’s obvious distress, he tempered his words, “against certain relationships. We’ve talked about this a number of times. Among the Comyn, as I have told you, these feelings are not judged sinful. Such a bond between men too young to marry is considered far more suitable than frequenting women who are common to all—”
“Stop!” Rinaldo cried. “Do not speak of such things!”
Regis regrouped his thoughts. “Perhaps later, when we know one another better, I can find words to make this truth less . . . offensive to you.”
“You—you would make such a sin an
acceptable topic of conversation?”
“Rinaldo,” Regis said as gently as he could, “St. Valentine was a holy man, but in this matter, he was either ignorant or just plain wrong. Each of us, men and women, love in the way the gods shaped our nature. The only sin, as I see it, is pretending what we do not feel.”
Or hiding, even from ourselves, what we do feel.
“No, no, I will not listen to such blasphemy!” Rinaldo threw himself back into his chair and glared at Regis. Regis wondered if he would be allowed to leave without giving some sort of pledge, one he had no intention or ability to keep.
“How do you propose to save me? Will you lecture me until I say what you want? Or send me back to St. Valentine’s? Three years among the monks could not alter what I am, and I was a boy then. Now I am a man and know myself. A hundred years of sermons will make no difference.”
“No, no, you misunderstand me!” Rinaldo exclaimed, his tone shifting like quicksilver. “I spoke from brotherly love, out of my desire to free you from sin. Virtue cannot be coerced. For all my zeal, I would not see you mistreated or shamed. What would that accomplish except to harden your resistance? I do not believe you a vicious man at heart. I myself have experienced your generosity.”
And this is how you repay me?
Regis clenched his fists at his sides.
“You have been led astray, polluted by the loose morals of your upbringing, the victim of a decadent society. I must—I
will
save you from such evil impulses!”
Something inside Regis snapped. He launched himself to his feet. “You and your ally have extorted my cooperation only by the most cowardly and dishonorable threats against those I hold dear. You have my place—you are Lord Hastur now. Do what you like, I will not challenge you, so let this be an end to squabbling. There is no further need to hold anyone prisoner. Release the last hostage, and let us be quit of one another.”
“The last one . . . that is the problem, is it not?” Rinaldo’s voice turned silky. “How can I permit you, my dearest brother, to plunge back into a life of perversion?”
“This is ridiculous! You have no authority over my private life!”
“Please sit down. I truly do not mean you ill. In fact, I have every intention of freeing Danilo Syrtis.” At an incredulous look from Regis, he added mildly, “I assure you, I have the power to do so.”
Wrestling his temper under control, Regis lowered himself back into the chair. If what Rinaldo said was true, if he could restore Danilo’s liberty, then what would be the price?
“I am sorry for my heated words,” Regis said. “I . . . misunderstood you.”
“It is a difficult situation, and no man relishes being powerless. Listen to me, Regis. I may not know everything about the niceties of court etiquette, but I do know the nature of men and how hearts may be reformed. You are correct, we do not choose the impulses that arise within us, but we
can
decide whether and how to act upon them. I myself have done penance many times for my wayward thoughts. I prayed I might overcome the weakness of my flesh, but now I see that I was made as other men for a reason, that someday I might enjoy the blessed delights of marriage.”
As Regis tried to formulate an appropriate response, Rinaldo waved him to silence.
“I am willing to release your paxman, but only if I can be assured that neither of you will return to your former ways. As a sign of submission to the true moral precepts of the
cristoforo
faith, you must give up your abhorrent and unnatural practices. Even your own people consider them scandalous.”
Regis held his tongue. How dared Rinaldo lecture him on what
his own people
thought? It was better to say nothing. The important thing was to agree, as long as that did not require an outright lie.
“Proximity and habit create a powerful temptation,” Rinaldo continued. “Therefore, I am not willing to send him back into your service. He will join mine.”
“What does Danilo say? Does he consent?”
“He will if you command him. There will be no negotiation or compromise on this point.”
Regis forced himself to breathe. “Then I can see him? Speak with him?”
Rinaldo nodded. “You may, but only with witnesses present and in a decorous manner. Habits take time to reform, but it is not impossible.”
“If I must agree in order to see him free and unharmed, then I will give him up. That is the condition, then?”
“One of them.”
Regis felt his heart sink.
“In order to effect a true rehabilitation, you must focus your affections on a more appropriate person. I am not so naive to think a man such as yourself can be celibate. Therefore, you must marry decently. You must take a wife.”
With great effort, Regis kept himself from laughing. Did Rinaldo mean to accomplish what Danvan Hastur himself had failed to do? Yes, he did. And he wielded the only leverage that would force Regis to it. Danvan Hastur had never threatened Danilo’s freedom . . . or his life.
The pause in the conversation had drawn on overlong. Savagely, Regis said, “What does
Dom
Valdir think about this arrangement?”
“I assured him that you will be cooperative, little brother, as I am certain you will. There is no need to be brutish, but the truth is that otherwise, your paxman might not continue to ah . . . prosper.” Rinaldo’s lips stretched into a smile, one that did not change the hardness in his eyes. “I cannot guarantee what may befall Danilo Syrtis should he remain in present custody. Valdir Ridenow’s threat to hang him was not an empty one.”
A feeling of helplessness swept through Regis, so intense he thought he would choke on it. Finally he managed to speak.
“Rinaldo, Grandfather tried for years to induce me to marry. I am not indifferent to women. As all the world knows, I have done my duty in producing sons and daughters for Hastur. Unfortunately, almost all died or were killed by the World Wreckers assassins. In the end, it seemed wrong to continue to father babes with such a fate. But I tell you now what I told him then: I will not marry a woman I cannot love.”
“Love? Love comes after marriage more often than not. When it comes before, the illusion of happiness ends when lust burns itself out,” Rinaldo commented with a faintly lascivious glint in his eyes. “Do you seriously mean that you have
never
met a woman you could marry?”
A quick retort rose up, but Regis knew it for a lie. He could say nothing, and that would also be untrue. “I have, and I have asked her to marry me. She refused.”
Rinaldo’s expression wavered between surprise and triumph. “You said nothing of this before.”
“Should I have offered her to Valdir’s ruffians as another hostage? Even if I no longer cared for her, I would not do such a thing.”
Regis prayed that he had not made a colossal blunder in revealing Linnea’s existence. Now the only way to ensure her continued safety was to change her mind, and that was as poor a way to begin a marriage as any he could imagine.
“You must ask her again,” Rinaldo said, clearly pleased. “You must be persuasive. You must woo her.”
Regis shook his head. “That would only jeopardize what good will remains between us.”
“Come now, I cannot believe that a man of your physical attributes—you are very handsome, if one cares for such things, which I do not—your wealth and lineage, cannot secure the affections of any woman you desire. Who is this obstinate female? She must be of high rank. I know so little of our caste . . . but I did notice one very pretty woman on the day of my ascension. An Alton, I thought, but Valdir said they are all off-world. She was watching you.”
The truth would come out, one way or another. Frankness might be the best policy, and Rinaldo valued honesty.
Taking a deep breath, Regis admitted that the lady Rinaldo had noticed was indeed the one. “Linnea Storn-Lanart was trained as a Keeper and served in that capacity at Arilinn. During the World Wreckers crisis, she gave up her work to bear me a child and now carries another. A son, she believes. Rinaldo, I beg your patience in this. I hope that, given time, she and I may find our way back to one another.”
“With your—the other one—out of the picture, I should hope so.” Regis felt his face harden. “
Domna
Linnea is not a woman to be seduced or coerced. I would rather set her aside then see her harmed. I fear that in naming her, I have placed her at risk. I have opened my heart to you, trusting you not to abuse the confidence. For the sake of the love you bear me as a brother, for the sake of my children, I beg your protection for her.”
Without a moment’s pause, Rinaldo replied, “Set your mind at rest. Your lady will be safe in my care.”
“Thank you.” The words came out in a whisper.
“
Dom
Valdir is a man of few scruples, and I cannot condone his methods. I know you think I am his servant, but it is the other way around. My allegiance is pledged to a higher master. As for Lady Linnea, I promise you I will not expose another innocent to Valdir’s schemes or let her be used against you. Some provision must be made for her, one way or another, for it is not seemly for a mother to be unmarried.”
“I intend to have both children legitimized, as is the custom,” Regis protested.
“The matter of
your
marriage is too important to leave to a woman’s uncertain favor.” Rinaldo looked down, his brow furrowed in thought. Clearly, he was weighing whether to demand that Regis find another bride or whether to concede. Did Rinaldo believe a man’s affections could be easily shifted to another? He had already expressed his belief that marriage need not include love.
Regis thought spitefully that his brother would be satisfied with a wife who was no more to him than a dutiful bed partner.
At last, Rinaldo made up his mind. “You have one month to either persuade this lady or find another. You may suit yourself. If it is not to be
Domna
Linnea, then I will make other arrangements for her.”
“But—”
“I promise you, my brother. On the day you wed, I will secure the release of Danilo Syrtis. You may depend upon it.”
I will depend on it when I see it done,
Regis thought. Yet what choice did he have?
Rinaldo was not finished. “Once he is no longer under guard, will you give me your sworn oath you will make no attempt at private communication with him? No secret assignations? No stipulations in the transfer of his services to me?”
Levelly Regis met his brother’s gaze. He saw no deception there, only a frank and ardent desire to do what he saw as good. “Will you in your turn treat Danilo with honor? Will you defend him as your sworn man, as I do?”
“I will deal fairly with him, acting in accord with his highest welfare.”
Regis felt his mouth go dry. From this point, there would be no turning back. Gods, what would Danilo think? That he had been bartered like goods in the market? Like a horse or a fine sword, without feelings or honor?