I have failed Javanne once. I cannot leave without trying to restore Ariel to her.
“I mentioned that I was absent on family business,” he began, and he saw Rinaldo’s interest rouse. “There is still more of that to be discussed. And, hopefully, an accord reached.”
“The Bearer of Burdens reminds us of the holy nature of blood connections,” Rinaldo replied.
Regis knew he was taking a risk, that he might well cross an invisible line and send his brother into another fit of self-righteous indignation. Carefully, he said, “You and I, for all the estrangement of our early lives, have reached an understanding. But we are not the only members of our family. We have a sister who is also a devoted wife and mother.”
“A woman of virtue. Yes, I do believe our sister is that. I have never heard a word spoken against her.”
Regis wished his heart were not pounding quite so loudly. This was an argument he must win, but not by laranGift or skill with steel, not even with cleverness of words.
“As a loving parent, she is of course concerned with the welfare of her children,” he ventured.
Rinaldo nodded, apparently not yet seeing the thrust of the argument.
“She is worried about her daughter. No, she is beside herself.” Thoughts flowed more clearly now, words rising to his lips. Compassion, Regis realized with no little surprise, was a stronger foundation from which to argue than confrontation. He reminded himself that he had not yet heard Rinaldo’s side of the story or his rationale for separating children from their parents. Perhaps Rinaldo truly believed he was doing good.
“Brother, I do not know the details of how our niece Ariel came to be taken from her mother or the child’s feelings about the matter, but I do know how much it distresses Javanne. As her nearest kinsmen, it is our obligation to ease her suffering. Can we not work together for her sake?”
Rinaldo protested, “Surely she understands as do the other parents—”
Blessed Cassilda, there are others?
“—it is for the children’s salvation to be properly instructed—” Rinaldo broke off at the clamor of voices and footsteps outside the door. Tiphani Lawton burst into the room without knocking. Her lips were unnaturally pale, her hair had been slicked so tightly to her skull that it appeared painted, and she wore a bizarre combination of the brown robe of a cristoforomonk and a costume from a musical entertainment. An enormous yellow stone, off-world amber, swung between her unbound breasts on a chain of copper.
“I was told—Holy saints, he isalive!” She did not look at all pleased to see Regis sitting companionably with Rinaldo.
Regis did not rise, as he would have had he encountered her as the wife of the Terran Legate. Instead, he inclined his head in her direction. “I am well, as you see.”
Rinaldo’s expression shifted to anxiety as he got to his feet. “Lady Luminosa, you lend us grace. Is anything amiss? How fares my wife and unborn son?”
“All proceeds in accordance with Divine Will,” she hastened to reply. Rinaldo’s question had broken the momentum of her entrance. “I heard—” she stumbled, recovered herself, “I felt myself summoned to Your Majesty’s presence.”
With the practice of years under his Grandfather’s tutelage, Regis suppressed his incredulity.
“Of course,” Rinaldo said warmly. “Your inspiration never fails our holy mission, even before I myself have recognized the need. Now all is made clear. My good brother here has heard slanderous tales about the new school we have established for the uplifting of moral values in our children. I was about to assure him that this strategy is not only beneficial but necessary.”
Tiphani settled herself with a lift of her chin and a smile that was more triumph than pleasure. She moved so that Regis would be forced to look up at her. Before she could draw breath to speak, however, he broke in.
“ Mestra,nothing would give me greater pleasure and edification than to listen to you, but I am here on pressing family business and have not the luxury of time. Please accept my thanks for your dedication.” Then he stood, towering over her. Instinctively, she moved back.
“I—I—” Tiphani stammered, glancing from Regis to Rinaldo. She was enough a diplomat’s wife to know when she was being dismissed. As she took her leave, she gave Regis a venomous glare. Regis responded with a neutral bow.
Alone again with his brother, Regis picked up the thread of his argument. “No matter how worthy or virtuous the goals, if an action harms innocents, it cannot be good. Can we not find another way of accomplishing what you desire, one that does not cause our sister so much anguish?”
“I have been graced with this power and the vision of what it was intended for. I must not flinch from using whatever means come within my grasp.”
“I have heard very much the same more times than I ever wished,” Regis said, unable to keep a shading of bitterness from his voice. Some of the men who had uttered those sentiments had been his friends, others his enemies. Most of them were dead now, leaving piles of bodies and smoking ruins in their wake.
“Javanne is not an obstacle but your sister, a woman of your own flesh and blood who grieves the loss of her daughter,” Regis went on. “ Youhave the means to ease her pain and restore her family.”
With a restless gesture, Rinaldo shifted in his chair. He looked at the fire, about the room, anywhere but his brother’s eyes. “I cannot rely on men of uncertain faith to reform an entire world. You yourself said change comes slowly, and men must learn to accept new things. What better way to accomplish this than by the education of the young, who have not yet been polluted by false doctrines and sinful practices?”
“Rinaldo, that is besides the point. You—or if not you yourself, on your orders—forcibly removed these children from their families. You can disguise what you did in all the fancy language you like, but it is still kidnapping!”
With an effort, Regis reined his temper under control. He was only a breath away from words that could not be unsaid. From Rinaldo’s expression, both stricken and adamant, it would not take much to push him too far.
“There are better ways of promoting tolerance of the cristoforofaith,” Regis said in a more moderate tone. “I myself can testify that indoctrination imposed unwillingly upon the young rarely works. If it had, I would have converted during my student years at St. Valentine’s. The monks certainly tried to convince me of the error of my ways.”
“You always were a recalcitrant student,” Rinaldo said, softening.
“I believe the correct term is blockhead.” Regis returned his brother’s grin. “Remember, too, that I went there at Grandfather’s wish, if not my own. Can you imagine the situation if he had been forced to send me?”
Rinaldo considered this. “From what I know of our grandsire, he was a formidable opponent and not a man to bend to circumstance. He would have raised half the Domains against us.”
Regis let the comment stand. “He certainly would have made his disapproval known. Who then would have listened to the truth of the holy saint’s teachings?”
For a long moment, Rinaldo did not respond. There was no real answer to the question, and to press the point would surely lose any sympathy Regis had thus far achieved. Moving slowly, as if his joints pained him, Rinaldo crossed to the fireplace. He laid one arm along the mantle. The gentle orange glow from the hearth warmed his features.
“I can’t give up now, and yet I can’t go on. I hoped we could begin a new generation, one dedicated to truth and virtue. Free from the idolatrous traditions of their elders. But it is not so easy, is it? When I think of how I might feel if my own son had been taken from me and taught—” he broke off, his breath catching in his throat. “Can these others, Javanne and the rest, feel any less?”