Page 35 of Sword Dance

“Right.”

From outside the beach hut came sounds of grunting and scrabbling. Someone climbing up onto the roof. Others laughed and called up encouragement.

“I’m going to look through the smoke hole,” the one on the roof called down. “There’s nothing going on in there. I think they’re both eunuchs.”

Damiskos looked down at Varazda, and Varazda rolled his eyes expressively. Damiskos bit his lip to hold back laughter, and after a moment saw that Varazda was doing the same. From the roof came the sounds of one of the students crawling across the tiles. Damiskos braced his hand on the far side of the couch and leaned over Varazda.

“Is he looking in?” Damiskos whispered.

Varazda glanced up. “Yes.”

“Ah.”

“You know, at this point, it might be simpler if we just kissed.”

“Yes.”

Damiskos leaned over a little further, and Varazda pushed himself up on the couch, and their lips met. It was certainly simpler than pretending to kiss. It was very simple, in fact. For a time, there was nothing but the act of kissing, the feeling of Varazda’s lips, his slender hand on the back of Damiskos’s neck, the warmth of their bodies barely touching.

They drew apart just the width of a breath, and Damiskos was aware of other things: soft notes of music and laughter borne on the breeze from the bonfire, the tang of incense-scented smoke, the cool of the night air. Then they were kissing again, still exquisitely light, and this time he let his fingers trail gingerly through Varazda’s hair, trying hard not to sink down into the kiss and enjoy it too much.

More grunting and scrabbling came from the roof, then a sound of sliding, a yell, a thump, and a groan from the side of the hut. Damiskos and Varazda, parted again, looked at one another and shook with silent laughter.

The chanting had stopped, the torchlight moved off. The group of watchers was breaking up and losing interest. Damiskos could hear them collecting the fellow who had fallen off the roof and heading back to the bonfire to refill their wine cups and argue some more about virtue. He propped himself on his elbow again, looking down at Varazda.

“Before you ask,” said Varazda, “no, ‘that wasn’t so bad.’”

Damiskos chuckled. “I was going to ask.”

“I knew you were.”

“I suppose we ought to wait a while before going back.”

“Mm. Yes.”

He didn’t want to look round to make sure they were really alone, so he still spoke quietly in Zashian. “Do you think it … worked?”

Varazda glanced past Damiskos’s shoulder toward the front of the hut. “They’re gone. I don’t know if Helenos will be entirely convinced, but I think he operates mostly by manipulating his underlings, and he’ll have a harder time now convincing them that you’re up to anything more complicated than romancing your new slave. Thank you for suggesting … ” He gave an elegant little gesture.

“You’re quite welcome. It was … really the only option. I’m not sure what kind of demigods you’ve been acquainted with, but, er, there’s no way I could have performed under those circumstances.”

“Oh.” Varazda looked deeply embarrassed. “I do apologize. But—I am sure you could have.”

“Now, look! I’m not confessing to impotence. Nobody could get it up with an audience like that, jeering and looking down the smoke hole and making rude jokes.”

“Is that … not what they do at Phemian weddings, then?”

“You’re joking, right? No, it’s not what they do at weddings. They sing a decent version of one of those hymns, they process to the couple’s house, they sing another one while the bride and groom go inside, and then they leave. They don’t watch.”

“Oh. Oh, I see.” He sounded entirely sincere.

“You really didn’t know that.”

“Well, it’s not what they do at weddings in Boukos, I knew that. I’d just—honestly—never known an intact man admit there were times he couldn’t get … you know, ready to perform … unless it were his partner’s fault.”

“That’s a Zashian thing—I remember that. You say, ‘Sorry, my dear, I’m a bit tired,’ and she bursts into tears because she thinks it’s something she did.”

“Ah. I thought it was … I didn’t know it was a Zashian thing.”