Venus of Shadows (60 page)

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Authors: Pamela Sargent

BOOK: Venus of Shadows
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They passed two large greenhouses. An older woman outside one waved and called out his name; Dyami started before recognizing Jeannine Loris. He lifted his hand; she could not know.

Ahead of them lay a more densely wooded area; two more members of the patrol were strolling near the road. They left the cart and walked toward the woods. It was already growing dark; Dyami squinted when they were among the trees, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He looked around and saw no one nearby, then said, "This place — is that where you always go?"

"Of course not. There are other houses in all the domes. We have ways of leaving messages for one another, saying where we'll be or which houses are welcoming guests on a particular evening. The place we're going usually draws men whose tastes aren't too odd — I didn't think you'd want anything too extreme."

It reminded him of his parents' useless meetings with others who hated Ishtar, where they consoled themselves by sitting around and believing they could find a way to fight. But he had no right to be critical. He had gone to the Freyja Mountains, where he could pretend that Ishtar did not exist.

He glimpsed the lights of a few houses beyond the trees; Teo pressed on until the lights disappeared and they were surrounded by darkness again. Dyami's mouth was dry. I should turn around now and go home, he told himself. Teo would mock him for being a coward; maybe he would even begin to worry if he could trust Dyami after all, if he could shrink from this so readily.

They were nearing the edge of the woods; a small lake was ahead. Several houses stood along the shore in the distance. "My house is over there," Teo said, motioning at the distant dwellings. "Our destination's straight ahead." He pointed at a house no more than a few paces away; the structure sat on a small rise just above the shore. Only one other house was near it; a woman stood in the doorway, calling out to three children playing on a dock. Teo leaned against a tree trunk. "We'll wait until she goes inside. It wouldn't matter even if she saw us, but I guess I should be cautious for your sake."

"How can you be so sure you won't be betrayed?" Dyami murmured.

"How can anyone give us away without betraying himself? He'd have to explain what he was doing there."

"Somebody could have a change of heart and decide to repent."

"And we could say he was lying and trying to implicate innocent people in his deeds. You worry too much, Dyami. There are a few on the patrol who can be bribed, and if anyone really started coming after us, Ishtar would have more trouble than it needs. There are a lot of people like us — they don't need that much of a fight."

But there would be no fight. Many would be like Dyami, hiding what they were without meeting with others; they would not be likely to come out in the open to defend offenders against Ishtar. Many would keep silent out of gratitude that their own deeds remained unknown. Arrayed against them would be not only Ishtar's true believers but also other Cytherians, people who disliked the cult but also despised what men like Teo did.

Ishtar talked of love and sharing, but its inner circles wanted control. They would not stop until they had power even over everyone's most intimate and private thoughts. This was their way of controlling people like Teo and him — forcing them to be furtive, so fearful of discovery that they would not risk standing against Ishtar openly.

The three children ran toward their house; the door closed behind them. Teo beckoned to Dyami; they left the trees and went rapidly along the bank toward the dwelling ahead.

*  *  *

The door opened; a stocky young man with Japanese features ushered Dyami and Teo inside. He did not introduce himself to Dyami or ask his name; perhaps it was better not to give it.

He might have been at any gathering of friends. Five men sat on cushions around a table, sharing food and herb tea as they talked. In a corner near a large screen, two men were throwing dice. One blond man sat alone, his back against the wall, his head bowed.

Dyami looked around the dimly lit room. A couple of faces were vaguely familiar, but he did not know anyone here. He felt a wave of relief before his fear returned; someone might still have recognized him. He was the Guide's brother; any of these men might be aware of that.

"Will anyone else arrive?" he murmured to Teo.

"I doubt it. We don't like too much of a crowd at any one place, even here, where there aren't many neighbors nearby. Why — haven't you seen a likely prospect?"

He was being watched. The men around the table were studying him quite openly now; one mustached man whispered to another. The two men near the screen picked up their dice, then disappeared into a hallway.

Teo walked toward the table. He stood there for a moment before he leaned toward a bearded man. The other man laughed, got up quickly, then slipped an arm around Teo's slender body as they moved toward the hallway where the other two had gone.

Dyami felt dizzy; he wanted to flee. He was limp, totally devoid of any desire. He shouldn't have come here, but it was too late to leave. The others had seen him already; if he left so soon, he would only arouse suspicion. They might even think he was his sister's spy.

A hand touched his arm; he looked down into the face of the stocky young man who had greeted him before. "Someone new," the man said. "Welcome to our fellowship." He began to stroke Dyami's arm, then let his hand fall to his hip. Dyami flushed. The knot inside him uncoiled as he felt himself stiffen; his will seemed centered in his member, a thing apart from his fears.

"We can go with the others." The man motioned with his head toward the hallway where Teo and the others had gone. "Or would you rather be alone?"

"Alone," he managed to say.

The man led him to the other narrow hallway; they entered a room. The light panels above them flowed on, then dimmed as his companion muttered a command. They shed their clothes quickly and went to the bed.

They stroked each other in silence. The man's hands both demanded pleasure and gave it; there were no whispered endearments or gentle kisses. They slowly sought each other out with their hands and mouths, moving closer to that moment when nothing outside existed. Dyami throbbed, aching with all he had held back for so long, and then his pleasure rushed from him, a bright stream sweeping him forward to an intense, transcendent joy.

The moment was gone too soon. He lay lost in a stranger's arms, alone once more, his fears drumming inside his mind.

His companion sat up. "Enough for you?"

"Yes."

"Maybe just for now." The man slipped off the bed and picked up his clothes. "You can stay in this room if you like. I imagine that at least one of our friends will look in on you in a bit." He smiled as he gazed at Dyami's body. "And if you're willing —" He left the room without bothering to dress.

Dyami stood up hastily. He was trapped with his fears again; the thought of another anonymous encounter repelled him. He had risked too much for such a brief pleasure. The moment was gone, swept away by the current, leaving only loneliness and disgust with himself in its wake. He had never felt disgust with Teo; there had been love for someone he knew.

He pulled on his clothes and left the room. Only two men remained in the common room, the blond man and an older dark-skinned man. The fair-haired man was standing; he was taller than Dyami, nearly as tall as Sef. He shrank back against the wall as his companion edged closer to him.

"I brought you here," the swarthy man was saying. "I thought you wanted to come, but you're not being very cooperative. I know what you need — you're acting like one of those who likes to display himself without admitting what he is."

Dyami moved toward them; the blond man looked at him with frightened dark eyes. His height was deceptive; his handsome but slightly rounded face was a boy's. "Let him be," Dyami said. "Can't you see he doesn't want that?"

The dark man's eyes narrowed. Dyami noticed now that both were wearing Ishtar's sash. "I guess you think he'd prefer you."

"Maybe he doesn't want anyone right now. Leave him alone. Enough willing men are here."

The man tilted his head. "You wouldn't like to —"

"I've had my pleasure. At the moment I need some food."

The man stared at Dyami for a bit, then walked toward the hallway where the other men had gone. Dyami went to the table, cut himself a piece of bread, ate it hastily, then poured himself some tea. The tea was tepid; he put down the cup and looked back at the boy. "How old are you?" he asked.

"Almost fifteen."

Dyami let out his breath. "Then maybe you shouldn't be here. This isn't a place for a boy, whether he has a man's body or not."

The tall blond boy sank to the floor. "I know."

Dyami kicked over a cushion and seated himself next to the boy, who shook back his hair as he glanced warily at him. "Don't worry," Dyami said. "I don't want a bed-partner now. I'm not used to this either — I wasn't sure what to expect."

The boy closed his eyes. Dyami studied his face, admiring its boyish beauty, the strong, well-shaped bones under the youthful chubbiness; he would be a beautiful man someday. "Kinsu was lying," the boy said. "I didn't want to come here. I only said that because I didn't know how to refuse. He's always been able to make me do what he wants, ever since he became my lover."

"And how long has that been?"

"Over two years. He said he'd been watching me, that he guessed about me. My family thinks I go to his house just to talk — at first, that's all it was. They feel sorry for him because he and his bondmate don't have a child — they don't know he never wanted one. They think it's so nice that he has somebody who's like a son."

Dyami's gorge rose. The boy must have suffered enough when he realized what he was; the thought of a man preying upon one so young angered him. The boy should have had a companion of his own age, someone less predatory and more innocent. Any man who treated a girl so young in this way would have risked a family's anger, perhaps even disgrace in a hearing if his attentions had been forced or coercion was used. But this boy could not have complained to anyone without shaming himself and admitting what he was.

"He shouldn't have brought you here," Dyami said. "If the others knew you were so young, they'd probably feel the same way. He should have waited until you were older before he —"

"What difference does it make?" The boy turned his head; his black eyes filled with tears. "It's horrible, what I am. I hate myself — it doesn't matter what he does to me."

"You mustn't say that. You shouldn't hate yourself just because a lot of people are too ignorant to understand. There are places where no one would care, where we'd be accepted, or at worst mocked only a little. You mustn't believe that your way of showing love to someone else is any less worthy than what others practice. I know how you feel — I'm often afraid myself. There's torment enough for people like us without adding guilt to it."

"It's wrong — what they're doing now in this house."

Dyami shook his head. "It may not be what I'd choose, but you shouldn't judge them too harshly. Need and loneliness and having to hide what they are brings them here. Is what they do so different from the rite many in Ishtar practice openly?"

The blond boy recoiled. "How can you say that? The rite appeases the Spirit. What they do is hateful to Her — the Spirit reaches out through Her daughters, who carry life, to Her sons, who make life possible. Those men refuse to honor the Spirit." He shuddered. "I know that, I pray so often, I want to change, I don't want to be this way, but I can't stop. The Guide says that the right way is a struggle, but why does it have to be so hard for me?"

Dyami felt cold. This boy was even more troubled than he had suspected; he believed in Ishtar even while engaging in what the cult called a sin. If his guilt grew great enough, it might destroy not only him but others as well. His pity for the boy turned to fear.

He tried to calm himself. "I didn't intend to mock Ishtar," he said. "But the Guide speaks of love, and I can't believe that any Spirit would hate a boy who can't help what he is. I can't believe that creating barriers between us and other people, or making you feel that you must hate yourself, is what the Spirit would want." He tried to think of what else to say; calling the cult's beliefs misguided and false might only provoke the boy further. "Other faiths have come to see that things they once thought were wrong aren't evils. Ishtar may change, too — even the Guide would say that mistakes are possible and that we may have an imperfect grasp of the truth."

"Ishtar has the truth," the boy replied. "The truth can't change. I can't change." His voice was weaker. "Maybe the Spirit will always hate me. No one could love me the way I am now, not if they knew."

"That isn't so. I don't hate you."

"But you're just another one like me."

Dyami gripped the boy's shoulder. "Listen to me. Some in Ishtar live without bonds, but they don't condemn those who can't and who practice the rite only with a bondmate. If you're trying to live in the way you think is right, even if you fail sometimes, you can't be condemned for that." This was the only consolation he could offer if the boy was unable to give up his beliefs. He clenched his teeth, silently cursing Chimene and those who followed her.

The boy shook off his hand. Teo suddenly entered the common room, pulling up his pants, a broad grin on his face; he halted as he caught sight of Dyami.

"Wait here," Dyami murmured as he stood up and went to his friend. "I think we should leave," he said softly.

"So soon? I was just going to check up on you." Teo draped his tunic over one bare shoulder. "Our host was quite pleased with you — he felt your passion more than made up for your relative inexperience. Don't you want more than a few preliminaries? He wouldn't mind another session later, and there's a roomful of men who'd enjoy showing you a few things."

Dyami jerked his head toward the boy. "We should get him out of here. He shouldn't have come. He's only fourteen years old."

Teo's smile faded. "I wouldn't have guessed," he whispered. "His escort didn't say he was bringing a boy. He may no longer be welcome himself if he tries that again."

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