“The Sword Dance is a bit barbaric, I admit,” Regis said, “but it is very old, from the deep Hellers, and traditional at Comyn gatherings. When I was young, Dyan Ardais was famous for his performance. Rest assured, the swords are not used as weapons; if anyone gets hurt, it is from overexertion and muscle strain.”
“The swords do not offend me.”
“What then?” Regis wondered at the use of the word offend.
Rinaldo inclined his head toward Regis, so that they could not be easily overheard. “It is indecent for two men to—to comport themselves in such an unseemly fashion.”
What, dancing together?Even as Regis thought this, the two dancers came together for one of the complicated duet figures, arms flung over one another’s shoulders, each in turn using the other for balance and support during the increasingly wild acrobatics. Both men were breathing hard, their faces flushed and gleaming with sweat, their eyes alight with savage joy as they threw themselves into the stylized martial movements. From their excitement, the intensity of their awareness of one another, and the closeness of their bodies, they might almost be lovers . . .
“They are not—” Regis began. “And even if they were, that is hardly indecent.This is Thendara, not St. Valentine’s.”
Regis faced his brother directly. He could no longer put off addressing the cristoforoattitude toward homosexuality, although he was not ready to confront Rinaldo with his own nature in the middle of such a public gathering.
“Among the Comyn, it is not considered disgraceful but proper for young unmarried men to turn to one another rather than to such women who are common to all. Most set aside the physical joining when they marry, but the ties of devotion and loyalty remain. A few continue to find their deepest connection to other men, but they are no less honorable for it.”
Rinaldo was trembling, visibly fighting for control. Regis could not read the emotion beneath the outward physical signs, only its intensity. Could it be that Rinaldo, like himself, struggled between his sexual preferences and the deeply implanted guilt from years of indoctrination?
No, whatever passions drove Rinaldo, Regis did not think that suppressed love of men was one of them. He must give his brother more time to accustom himself to life outside the monastery.
“I know you have been taught otherwise, and so was I,” Regis said as kindly as he could, “but the world is far larger and more varied than one isolated snowbound corner. In time, I hope you will see that such private, individual choices pose no threat to anyone else and that you can respect and even admire those who are made differently. It is a difficult adjustment, but for tonight, you need not remain if the dance offends you.” Deliberately, Regis repeated the same word. Offend.
If thy right arm offend thee, cut it from thy body.The words of the ancient cristoforoscripture echoed in memory. As an adolescent, Regis had been appalled at the injunction, and perhaps that was why he could never forget it.
“No one will think ill of you if you retire early.” Regis kept his voice encouraging. “You are not accustomed to such energetic activity late at night. Shall I ask Danilo to attend you, or do you remember your way back to your rooms?”
“I am indeed overtired. A period of cleansing prayer will restore me. Do not trouble your paxman on my account. If it is improper for me to walk alone from one part of the Castle to another, then one of the Guardsmen can do as well.”
With that, Rinaldo bowed to Regis and went to take his leave of Javanne, as the evening’s hostess. Regis watched with relief as Javanne smiled and patted Rinaldo’s arm in a sisterly way. A moment later, Rinaldo disappeared through the archway at the back of the ballroom, one of the older Guardsman marching smartly in his wake.
The following morning, Regis breakfasted late with Javanne and her family. She had transformed the blandly impersonal parlor into an intimate family room. Cushions with brightly colored needlepoint, some of it obviously the work of her daughters, were piled on the divan. A table nearby held a vase of flowers and several open books; a flute had been left on the divan itself.
Gabriel had already left for morning roster, but Mikhail and Ariel greeted Regis warmly. Ariel had not been allowed to attend the dance and was bursting with questions that, she insisted, her older brother was incapable of answering properly. Who had worn what and danced with whom? Regis did his best, despite her growing impatience with his answers.
At last Javanne called a halt to the interrogation. Regis yawned and sipped his second cup of bitter jaco.He had not slept well since returning to Thendara. Although they worked together every day, Danilo kept to his own chambers at night. Eventually, they would have to find some private time, before irritations and misunderstandings began to fester.
The maid swung open the outer door and Rinaldo entered. As before, he was simply but richly dressed. If the colors of his garments were somber, the quality was unmistakable.
“Please join us,” Regis said, adding, “or perhaps I overstep the prerogative of my sister, since this is her apartment and her breakfast.”
“Oh, Regis! We are family and must not be so formal!” Javanne began handing Rinaldo plates of sausages and cold sliced meat pie and bowls of stewed mountain peaches and fresh cheese, followed by baskets of spiced pastries.
“I looked for you this morning.” Rinaldo’s tone was even, but the words came out as an accusation. “They told me you were here.”
Regis shrugged. “It’s far more pleasant to spend the morning after a ball relaxing with one’s family than returning immediately to work.” He started to say, Even if one is not exhausted from dancing,but thought better of it. “You look as if you have rested well.”
“I have indeed.”
“What did you think of the ball, Uncle Rinaldo?” Mikhail asked.
“Yes!” Ariel joined in, clapping her hands. “Were the ladies dressed very grandly? No onehas been able to tell me!”
Rinaldo paused in cutting a sausage into tiny slivers. “I have been a monk for most of my life,” he said, avoiding looking directly at his young niece, “and know little of how to judge such things. But if grand-nesscan be measured by the brightness of the silks and the number of bows and frills, then yes, very grand indeed.”
“That is enough,” Javanne interrupted before Ariel could pose another question on the latest fashions. “Your uncle is our guest, not our entertainer.”
In the awkward silence that followed, Regis said, “Rinaldo, was there something you wanted?”
Rinaldo finished the last bite of sausage and mopped up the juices with a bit of bread. “Only a trifle. Nothing worthy of taking you from your work. But since you are at leisure and you have asked . . . I have seen many things in this city, some admirable, some otherwise. I suppose such behavior is to be expected without firm moral guidance.”
Ariel lifted her head with a puzzled expression. Mikhail pretended to whisper to her, “He means houses where—”
Javanne cut him off. “Mikhail! We do not speak of such things in front of children! I am so sorry, Rinaldo. Mikhail really knows better. But boys will be curious, and he is of an age . . .”
“Let us hope his curiosity extends only to vocabulary and not experience,” Rinaldo said severely. “Once he is married, he will have no cause to pollute his thoughts in this way.”
Mikhail’s flush was all the more obvious because of his fair complexion. He looked as if he wanted to sink through the carpeted floor and into the Castle’s forgotten dungeons. Regis felt a surge of sympathy for the boy. When he was Mikhail’s age, he would never have spoken the word brothelbefore any person of his parents’ generation.