Of course, the monks weren't going to let a young woman onto the actual monastery grounds. Instead, her guide led her down the length of the inner wall, the only sound that of his sandals slapping against paving stone, till they reached a little herb garden.
Neutral ground, Maria thought dryly.
Then she saw the man who stood tranquilly awaiting her, and forgot her sarcasm. He was tall, dignified— somehow, even after all the long years away from the world, he still looked regal. Even in the plain, dark, monkish robes, this could only be Prince Vasili. And oh, he did look so much like Finist! A Finist grown old, hair gone white, skin more tightly drawn over the high, elegant cheekbones… Overwhelmed, Maria began to sink into a respectful curtsey, but in two smooth steps he was at her side, and strong, gentle hands were reaching out to pull her up again.
«No, child. I am Brother Feodosi, no more than that.»
Seen up this close, the resemblance to his nephew wasn't quite so stunning. Brother Feodosi's face was softer than Finist's, his eyes not the falcon's fierce amber, but a subtler gold—the eyes, Maria thought, of an aging, gentled eagle.
But as the man studied her, those golden eyes brightened, surprised and warm.
«Why, my dear, you are Finist's love! How wonderful!»
«You—you know — " Maria stopped, blushing. «Oh. Of course you'd know. The magic…»
The man gave her a wry little quirk of a smile. «The magic, yes. It does still flow in my blood. Though now I use it only for healing. But you are… ?»
«Maria Danilovna of Stargorod.» Maria shook her head impatiently, abruptly remembering, now that the first shock was past, why she'd come. «But that's — "
«Stargorod! You've come a long way!»
«Yes, but I — "
«And to see me.» All at once his voice was very serious. «At the gate, you spoke of my nephew. And of peril.»
«Yes.» Maria paused, trying to organize her thoughts, then dove headlong into her story, of herself, of Finist, of that strange, sudden illness and‑Ljuba.
Odd. When she first mentioned Ljuba, the man's face had grown very still. And when she finished her story, the first thing he asked was:
«Are you sure? That… the Lady Ljuba is to blame— are you sure?»
Maria gave a sharp, incredulous little laugh. «Oh, very; I assure you, Alexei was trying to kill me. And it was at Ljuba's command.»
«Yes, but you admitted that the man was insane. He might have been lying, or indulging some mad fancy. You might have misunderstood him. That's only understandable, what with the shock and fear you must have been feeling. You might very well have been mistaken.»
Maria stared at him, bewildered. «No, I most certainly was not mistaken! Neither were the villagers of Lesielo, for that matter. Ljuba was and is to blame—of that I am very, very sure.»
«Ah.» It was a sound almost of pain. «I… see.»
Maria waited anxiously, expecting him to continue. But when the man said nothing more, she prodded, «But aren't you going to do something? Can't you help? I'm not worried about myself, not—not really. But Finist—poor Finist! Can't you — "
«No.»
«W-what?»
«I'm sorry, child. There's nothing that I can do.»
«That doesn't make sense! You're a magician, you can't be afraid of a sorceress!»
«It isn't fear," he murmured. «Not of that.»
«And you're Finist's uncle! Surely that matters to you!»
«It does.» The golden eyes were dark with pain. «I love my nephew dearly. Please, child, believe me. But… there really is nothing I can do. I'm sorry.»
«Sorry!» exploded Maria. «He—he's desperately ill, he may even be d-dying, he and his people are at the mercy of that ambitious, murderous sorceress, and all you can say is that you're sorry!»
«Maria, child, please. You don't understand. I… can't return to Kirtesk. You see, my dear, many years ago I swore a sacred vow. In short, I swore never again to enter that city's walls.»
Maria blinked, confused. Why on Earth would he swear something like that? Because Finist's father held the throne? Because Vasili didn't want to get in the rightful ruler's way? She shook her head, impatient. «That's as it may be. But you say you swore that oath years ago! Surely such a vow isn't still binding, not when the life of your nephew and—and the safety of all of Kirtesk is at stake!»
He wouldn't meet her gaze. «A vow, child, is a vow. I may not break my word.»
" 'May not,' " Maria echoed, «or will not! Surely you can't believe that the—the good Lord would strike you down for — "
The golden eyes flashed in sudden anger. «You speak lightly of something you know nothing about!»
«I know that if it were my prince and my people in peril, nothing in all the world would stop me from rushing to help them!»
«No!» he insisted. «I will not break my vow!»
«Why not?» snapped Maria, forcing down a frantic little voice within her that was screaming, Don't get him angry! He's a monk, but he's still a magician! Don't get him angry! «It's not the vow, is it? No, there's more to this than that! What is it, envy? Are you so envious of Finist for having the throne that — "
«No!» The man turned sharply away from her in a swirling of dark robes. «I never wanted the throne!»
«All right, then!» With Finist's life at stake, she wasn't going to waste time in meek courtesy. «If not envy, what? For God's sake, why won't you help Finist and put a stop to this—this Ljuba?»
«Because I…» «Why?»
«Because I can't.» It was a cry of anguish. «Because in Ljuba, my sin has come home to me!»
As Maria looked at him in utter bewilderment, the man who'd been Prince Vasili sank to a stone bench, staring blankly into space.
«Efrozinia… She was so beautiful, the Lady Efrozinia.» The words really weren't for Maria's ears. «And how I loved her! My brother was already the sire of a fine, healthy son; surely I was free to love where I would. But she… she turned from me to another, a mere petty nobleman. She could have had a princely mate, but she wed that—nobody!»
He stopped to catch his breath, glancing at Maria, but continued as though, after all the years of silence, a dam within him had finally burst.
«Of course, it was not a happy marriage. How could it be? He was but one or two grades above the commons, while she… My Efrozinia was used to court life, to light and song and laughter. It happened that she and her… husband came to the palace—at my brother's invitation, not mine, for the festivities surrounding his son's first birthday. I… She… Akh, there's no excuse for what happened next. We'd both been drinking, she and I, we forgot all caution, all shame. We stole away together, and I cast a spell of secrecy about us. And then… The sin wasn't Envy. It was Adultery.»
He glanced up at her again—a brief, anguished flash of gold. When she said nothing, he continued in a soft, frenzied rush of words:
«After that, Efrozinia avoided me, but I still burned for her. With my Powers, I forced her to my bed. And after that… Oh, God, how could I stay at court after that? That was when I swore my vow and left the world behind, hoping to atone in quietness and gentle deeds. Everyone thought I was being so wise and noble and self-sacrificing, when actually — " He broke off sharply, fists clenched. «It still hurts. After all these years, it does still hurt.»
Maria hesitated, knowing she should say something, anything, wondering how she could possibly dare condemn or pity this man who was so many years her elder, this man who was both monk and prince.
«You… got her with child, didn't you?» she asked, very, very carefully, wondering if he was going to strike out at her.
But: «Yes," bitterly. «Though I swear before Heaven I didn't know it when I left! And her husband — " Monk though he was, the man couldn't keep the scorn from his voice. «Oh, he must have guessed the truth of it, he wasn't that great a fool! But what could he do? I was a prince, brother to his liege lord! He daren't attack me or his wife. And after all, he had no proof, no real proof, that the babe wasn't his.»