Regis could not think of what to say. The room, once spacious and echoing, had shrunk, suddenly too narrow. He felt as if he were a wild beast being herded to the slaughtering pen. The cristoforofaith had always existed on the margins of Darkovan society, with its central establishment the remote monastery at Nevarsin. As far as Regis knew, there had never been any overt interference with its practice except that the sole heir to an estate could not be a celibate monk; but there was nothing to prevent any ordinary person from worshiping as he pleased.
“I believe that each man must answer to his own conscience,” Regis said carefully. “At the same time, change comes slowly. One cannot reverse millennia of tradition in a single year. From the dawn of history, the Comyn have worshiped the Lord of Light.”
According to legend, Aldones had fathered the first Hastur, progenitor of the Comyn. Nowadays, however, few people doubted the evidence that Darkover was a lost Terran colony.
“Pah! Aldones!” Rinaldo’s mouth twisted in disgust. “Evanda of the springtime, Avarra the Dark Lady, and Zandru of the Seven Frozen Hells! They’re all nonsense, vile superstition!”
“Sharra was not a superstition,” Regis said. “Nor was this.” He gestured to his hair, long enough to brush his shoulders. Behind his eyes rose the memory of being drenched in living light, of giving himself over to that power. Whether it had been the embodiment of Aldones or something else, he did not know. A single hour in its grip had turned his hair from red to pure, shimmering white.
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. Thisis 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 emmascacondition or the Comyn tolerance of donas amizubetween 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 exactlywhat I was doing. What I wanted. WhoI 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 cristoforofaith. 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 willsave 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 candecide 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.”