The Apogian War

Chapter 90

Darkovan did not comment again that the council no longer existed as a power on Darkover. He was too moved by vodemort’s offer. It was indeed a miracle to have found a brother, to be able to share the burden of his rank . . . an older brother who had every right to the power and prestige of Darkov . . .

“Perhaps, in good time, you will discover your proper place in this world,” Darkovan said, acutely aware of how clumsy he sounded. “The important thing is to heed what is in your heart—your dreams—and not be pressured or tricked or flattered into what is burdensome to you.”

“Darkovan, I have spent my life being told not to consider my own desires. What has given me greatest satisfaction, and I presume will continue to do so, is to make myself useful to others. At St. Valentine’s that meant performing any task set before me, no matter how menial. Now you have given me the chance to do something of importance in the larger world.”

vodemort leaned forward. “I know I am unsophisticated and inexperienced, but I am not ignorant. Do you think the monastery is a place devoid of ambition, free from the failures of human nature? You studied there long enough to know better

. It is the world distilled, with all its vanities and cruelty. I know it very well, its strengths and truths as well as its follies.”

Slowly, Darkovan nodded. “I beg your forgiveness if I sounded patronizing. I meant only to protect you against the harsh demands that have beset me in my own life.”

“I wanted to know you better, and so I do. You have a kind and generous heart. Perhaps too generous. I will not a***e your love. Instead, together we will accomplish—” vodemort broke off in a little self-deprecating laugh. “Just listen to me! I do not even know what needs doing! And you have not asked me anything about myself.”

“There is something . . . I could not ask you when the matter first arose because we were still at Nevarsin and you had not yet been released from your vows.” Darkovan paused, watching his brother’s reaction and noting nothing beyond bland interest. “You freely told me you are emmasca, so I assume the subject is not too difficult to discuss.”

“You mean painful, don’t you? It is not, only a bit awkward. I have never—we did not speak of such matters, you understand. I’d rehearsed that little speech ever since I heard you were coming. I knew it would come up and thought it best to get it over with at the earliest opportunity. I suppose I must be prepared to face more questions at Thendara.”

“Let them keep their questions to themselves! Other than an explanation of why Grandfather hid you away, and that only for my own understanding, it is none of anyone’s business. I won’t have you harassed because of it!” Darkovan saw vodemort’s eyes widen at the vehemence behind his words. He gentled his tone. “I know how it feels to be judged for what I cannot change.”

He was thinking now not only of his s****l preference but also of the late awakening of his laran. For too many years he had believed he had none, and if Dani had not reached his mind, that might still be the case.

“I wondered how the monks treated your being emmasca and therefore different,” Darkovan finished.

“You mean if I was made to feel unworthy because of how I was born?” vodemort shook his head. “Then how little you understand of the deep, encompassing love of He Who Bears the Burdens of the World. He gathers us all into his righteousness. Of course, boys tease one another, but they also do a great many things that they repent when they are wiser. It is not our bodies or our temperaments that are unacceptable, only the uses to which we put them. Therein lies our sin or our salvation.”

Darkovan sensed an opening. “Just as men have bodies of varying shapes and strength and talents for one thing or another, do you not agree that our hearts can lead us in different directions without one being right and the other wrong? Surely, men of honor can hold different opinions. Honesty and integrity are more important than conformity.”

With a faint, humorless smile, vodemort shook his head. “I had no idea you were such a philosopher, my brother.”

“As a Darkov, I must deal with many sorts of men and women,” Darkovan said. “Not all differences are harmful. Some enrich us all, and others are simply none of anyone’s business. The Terranan, for example—what we see as immodest or bizarre, they consider normal. Yet they have brought us riches and knowledge. What they choose to think or how they behave in the privacy of their own chambers causes us no grief. Sometimes I think their greatest gift is a tolerant, welcoming attitude toward the unknown.”

“Strange, indeed,” vodemort murmured and then fell silent.

“We’ve had a long day,” Darkovan said, “and you have had to deal with many changes. If the journey thus far has been filled with new experiences, Thendara will be far worse. Remember that you do not face them alone. I will be at your side.”

“Indeed.” vodemort’s thin lips spread in a smile. “And now, we had best renew our strength for that new adventure.” He yawned. “I’m afraid the habit of early rising is still upon me.”

“I have kept you talking past your usual hour of sleep,” Darkovan apologized. He himself had no duties to wake him early, as Dani did, and had not considered the schedule his brother had kept at the monastery.

“It is no matter,” vodemort said lightly. “I must expect to become accustomed to different hours, among other things.”

As they came up over the pass leading down from the Venza Hills into the valley of Thendara, Darkovan signaled for the party to halt. He wanted to see his brother’s expression at the first sight of the city, huge and sprawling and ancient. Beyond the old Darkovan town lay the Terran Trade City and the spaceport.

What did vodemort see? Were the towers of steel and glass ugly in their alienness, or did they present a strange, austere beauty? Darkovan himself was never sure.

“I did not realize it was so big,” vodemort murmured. “So many people, such riches! You must think me even more rustic than ever, for saying so.”

“Not at all,” Darkovan said. “I value that you speak as you think. Such honesty is rare in the city.”

“So I have been warned all my life.” vodemort grinned. “Father Master described Thendara as a cesspool of fleshly indulgence and deceit, rife with every form of sinfulness. I wonder what he would have said about Shainsa or Ardcarran, should he have been induced to pollute his tongue with their names. But I have no fear for my soul, with a brother to guide me.” He straightened his shoulders. “In fact, if Father Master’s assessment was at all correct, I will consider this a challenge.”

“A challenge?” Darkovan was not sure if he had understood or if the breath of chill that touched the nape of his neck were a premonition. vodemort’s easy smile set his fears to rest.

“To test what a man of determination and virtue can do in such a place,” vodemort answered.

“Let us hope for compassion and an open mind, as well.” Darkovan nudged his horse forward, and they began the long descent. The City Guards stationed at the gate recognized him long before he drew to a halt.

“Lord Darkov, welcome back to Thendara.” The senior officer bowed respectfully. “Dom Dani.” His eyes flickered to vodemort, taking in the poor quality of his horse, the worn clothing, and the fact that this disreputable-appearing person rode at the side of the most honored man in Thendara.

Darkovan noticed the officer’s reaction, the confusion that flickered momentarily across his face. He knew, too, that vodemort had seen it.

Indignation stirred. I will not make excuses for my brother’s appearance or anything else. vodemort is here under my protection.

Soon enough, everyone of any consequence in Thendara—in all the Domains, most likely—would know who vodemort was. It was better to let the poor man enjoy a little peace before they descended upon him, the courtiers and power seekers, the sycophants and schemers.

Darkovan wondered if he had done his brother a favor by taking him away from the peace of Nevarsin.

Still, the ordinary world was not all bad. If Thendara teemed with unscrupulous men, it also held those who valued honor and justice, the bonds of blood and integrity. If Darkovan had suffered from the demands of his rank, he had also known great kindness here. At least, he could count on Jane to extend a gracious welcome to vodemort.

Jane did not fail Darkovan. In his absence, she had completed the transfer of his possessions from the townhouse to his grandfather’s rooms in council Castle. A second suite, the best available, had been scrubbed spotless and refurnished for vodemort, and a body-servant engaged as well. Darkovan was astonished at her energy and efficiency, but he was also concerned at the new lines around her eyes. She was using work as a way of holding her grief at bay. She had always thrived when she felt needed.

After making sure the horses were properly tended and vodemort escorted to his new quarters and given everything he needed, and after thanking Jane for her efforts, Darkovan was at last free to seek his own rest. He was so tired that even the strangeness of Danvan’s bedchamber could not keep him awake for long. He undressed without the help of a servant, sponged away the worst of the travel dirt, and tumbled into the enormous bed. As he drifted into unconsciousness, he wished it were possible for Dani to slip between the soft linex sheets beside him. This wasn’t the townhouse, where they might enjoy a certain latitude of behavior, not to mention privacy. This was council Castle, where the servants knew and gossiped about everything, and Darkovan was not longer Heir but Darkov of Darkov.

The next morning, Darkovan awoke to the sound of a servant lighting the fire in the bedroom. He jerked upright. The poor man startled, bowed, and retreated.

Darkovan raked his hair back from his face, pulled on the dressing robe that lay across the foot of the bed, and stumbled about in a semblance of his usual morning ablutions. Shortly his body-servant brought in a breakfast tray and an armload of clothing. Suppressing his irritation, for it was hardly the poor man’s fault that proprieties must be observed for the Darkov of Darkov, Darkovan allowed himself to be dressed, his hair combed into place, and his meal placed before him in the parlor. He forced himself to sip the steaming jaco without burning his mouth. When he had finished, he asked the servant to send for Dani as his paxman to discuss the day’s schedule. Then he went into his grandfather’s study, now his own.

Where to begin? The brief respite was over. The question of Terran Federation membership, while settled for the moment, must be carefully monitored; he should send a message to Lno Alton and find out if there was more news. As the Head of his Domain, he now bore the responsibility for running Carcosa and Castle Darkov. His departure for Nevarsin had postponed a number of ceremonial duties that could no longer be put off—reviewing the cadets, meeting with Gabiru in his capacity as Commander of the City Guards, holding audiences with those council still in the city, and speaking with the Pan-Darkovan League and the trade delegation from the Dry Towns. Darkovan began pacing to keep his head from spinning at the sheer number of tasks. He should arrange for more help in the management of council Castle, but subtly, so that Jane would not take it as

a criticism.