“It is very possible,” Regis said temperately. “The first humans to settle Darkover came from a lost colony ship millennia ago. I believe the Nevarsin monastery dates from that time and has been relatively isolated from the larger world. Many of the traditions and beliefs of the first cristoforosmay have come down to us with very little change.”
“Look,” Rinaldo exclaimed, “here is a holy reliquary, in form and symbolic ornament very like our own. If I saw it in the chapel at St. Valentine’s, I would not think it out of place. I cannot believe the resemblance is accidental . . . Now I know why I have been brought here to Thendara! I might have lived my entire life at Nevarsin without learning the universal truth of our teachings.”
He turned to Tiphani. “We must pray for guidance and knowledge of the work we are called to accomplish.”
Although Regis was glad his brother had discovered a way to integrate his religious and worldly lives, he was also disturbed that the connection should be a woman who had shown herself to be so volatile of temper.
Rinaldo, as if sensing his brother’s mood, hastened to say, “Our work will become a powerful instrument of understanding between our two planets or rather between Darkover and the Federation. I can think of no better way to serve my people.”
Having no ready answer, Regis said nothing. Mikhail looked politely uninterested. Felix shuffled from one foot to the other.
“Brother Valentine—Rinaldo, that is,” Tiphani rushed on, oblivious, “will you help me to build a chapel where people of faith from both our communities may worship together?”
“Most gladly, lady. That is, if my brother consents.”
Finding no graceful way to refuse, Regis said he thought it a fine project. “But,” he warned, “both Darkovan and Terran authorities must agree on the final plans.”
“Oh, there will be no problem from this side,” Tiphani said. “My husband will ensure the approval of the Federation.”
Just then, Dan returned through a side door. “I won’t trouble you with details, my dear, but I’m afraid my presence is required.”
“We must take our leave as well,” Regis said, with the short bow of a Comyn lord to one of equal rank.
Rinaldo came away cheerfully after making arrangements for a properly chaperoned visit with Tiphani a few days later.
Regis did not draw an easy breath until they were once more under the great red sun instead of glaring yellow lights. For what he had inadvertently overheard, as much with his mind as his ears, was his brother saying to Tiphani Lawton,
“. . . forbidden black arts . . . none so lost . . . cannot be saved . . . if the will is strong enough . . .”
15
On one of these rare afternoons when he was able to finish work early, Regis found himself low in spirit. He had determined to dine alone, savoring a few hours of quiet. Javanne had organized so many family dinners that Regis had begun making excuses not to attend. Rinaldo had stepped into the vacuum, regaling Regis with his day’s exploration of the city, work on the Chapel of All Worlds, and meetings with Tiphani Lawton, with whom he was developing an increasing closeness. Regis had heard enough theological discussions in the last tenday to last a lifetime. He no longer cared about the liturgical differences between the cristoforosand the priests of Tiphani’s faith.
The parlor felt empty and too quiet; Regis chuckled at himself for having become unaccustomed to his own company and poured himself a goblet of unwatered wine. He sipped it meditatively, remembering the tavern near the gates of the Guards Hall, where he and Danilo used to sneak away for a tankard of pear cider. It was one of the few places where they could enjoy an evening without people constantly staring. The cadets would throng the outer room, but the back was reserved for officers. It was dark and closed-in, but the Guardsmen understood that even a Hastur needed a little privacy.
Sighing, Regis set down his wine. He no longer wanted it, although the vintage was as fine as any on Darkover. What was the Terran proverb, something about, “Better a crust of bread in a hovel where there is peace than a banquet where there is none”?
A familiar tap sounded on the door. At his greeting, Danilo entered. “Your brother is not here?”
Regis gestured, As you see, I am alone.Danilo had good reason to expect Rinaldo’s presence, for Regis had been spending his little available leisure time with his brother.
Taking a goblet from the sideboard, Regis poured it half full and held it out. Danilo settled on the opposite chair and raised the cup to his lips. “It’s good.”
“Better than we used to drink when we were cadets,” Regis said. Danilo shuddered theatrically. “But the point wasn’t the taste, was it? Not in those days.”
The two men sipped their wine. Regis felt the coiled tension within him ease slightly.
“Regis, I am glad to find you alone. I want to talk privately. No, not about Rinaldo, at least, not directly. About this Chapel of All Worlds that he and Dan Lawton’s wife are building.”
“What of it?” The completed structure would take time, even with Terran construction methods. Once a circle of laranworkers under a skilled Keeper could have raised such a structure in a day. Meanwhile, services were held in an old mansion in the Trade City, accessible to all.
“It’s an excellent way to foster understanding between our peoples.” Regis said.
“I thought so too, at first. I was curious to learn more of the off-worlders’ faith, which seems so close to that of the cristoforos, and what wisdom they might have to teach us. I even allowed myself to believe in an all-embracing god who lifts every man’s burdens, no matter what sun we live under.”
Beneath Danilo’s calm words, Regis sensed ambivalence and . . . fear. Fear?
“Danilo, what is wrong?”
Danilo began pacing, wine goblet in hand. The garnet liquid sloshed perilously close to spilling as he gestured. “You know—from our years at Nevarsin, from all we have been through—how I have been at odds with certain aspects of my faith.”
“The injunction against homosexuality, you mean.” Outright phobia was more the case, but Regis did not need to say so.
Danilo paused in his stride, his back to Regis. His shoulders rose and then fell. He nodded, then turned back, dark eyes filled with light.
And love,Regis realized as his own heart responded. How could I ever doubt that?
“I hoped,” Danilo continued, “that since the Terrananare said to be more tolerant, that this coming together of faiths might result in greater openness and acceptance.”
“Not all Terranan,” Regis reminded Danilo. “Remember when Grandfather had to intervene after an off- worlder stabbed a Guardsman who had, he claimed, made him an ‘indecent proposition.’ The Guardsman’s brother quite justifiably filed an intent-to-murder.”
Danilo shook his head in incredulity. “I’d forgotten that incident, it was so long ago. Wasn’t the Terran deported to save his life? He nearly caused an interstellar scandal because he had not the wit to simply decline the invitation.”
“Perhaps,” Regis said delicately, “he did not see that as an option. Or perhaps he was brought up like a cristoforo,unable to consider bedding another man without moral disgust. I’ve never asked you—how did you reconcile what you were taught with what you feel, what we have together? For a time, I thought you might have set aside your cristoforobeliefs, but you did not.”
Danilo took a moment to compose his answer. “For a long time, I made excuses to myself. I told myself that when you married—and each season made that more inevitable—that I too would take a wife. Do my duty as a member of the Comyn. Pass on this damnable telepathic Gift to the next generation.