Page 36 of Sword Dance

The voices of the students had long since receded into the distance. Of course now that they had started talking about it, Damiskos found that he was aroused after all, with a fierce and urgent warmth. It warred with the instinct of protectiveness he had been feeling for Varazda all evening, but it fired it up, too, because now he felt he needed to protect Varazda from him.

He turned carefully to lie on his back, propping his good leg up, knee bent, so that the skirt of his tunic draped discreetly. He tucked a hand behind his head.

“When I was serving at Seleos, I got engaged to a girl from Suna.”

Varazda gave him a curious look. “Did you?”

“It was an entirely respectable thing. Her father hosted a dinner for the officers of my legion, and I met her when he invited her to play the lute at the party. I asked the family’s permission to call on her again, we met a number of times with a chaperone, and eventually I asked if she wanted to marry me and negotiated a bride price. Then I found out how her father made his living.”

“Oh yes?”

“Well, he was a merchant, I had known that. I thought he dealt in Parkan rugs, but it turned out that was only a part of his business. His main trade was in boys. Eunuchs. I found that out when he explained the business to me. Because I was set to join the family, you see.”

“But then you didn’t.”

“No. The whole thing horrified me. I wanted no part of it. I considered asking Shahaz, my fiancée, to run away with me, but that wouldn’t really have made either of us happy—she wanted a respectable marriage, and I wanted … well, I wouldn’t have wanted to disgrace her. So I broke it off.”

“I see.” Varazda’s voice had become remote. “I wonder what lesson about you it is that I’m meant to learn from that.”

That was an annoying way of putting it, but as an insight it wasn’t too far off. “I wanted to settle in Zash. Shahaz is a beautiful and talented woman, and would have made an excellent wife—is, I’m sure, an excellent wife now, to someone else—but it was the city of Suna that I was really in love with.”

“And then we spoiled it for you with our barbarian ways. I see.”

“No, you don’t! I was trying to … oh, forget it.”

Trying to express sympathy, he’d been about to say. Trying to show that he understood, better than the average Pseuchaian, that he’d even been willing to make some personal sacrifice on account of that understanding.

They lay for a little while in silence, Damiskos feeling irritable and slightly nauseous with cooling lust. Sounds from the bonfire were fading as revelry gave way to quiet conversation. The oldest and youngest of the merrymakers were probably heading home to bed.

“Will you be safe when we go back up to the house?” Damiskos asked finally.

“Probably.” Varazda sounded irritable too. “Who knows. They’ll expect me to be in your room, and I don’t think they want to deal with you right now. If they’re still suspicious of me, they’ll wait until they can get me alone.”

“Had you better be in my room, then?”

“I’m sure that would be delightful, but I don’t believe it’s necessary.”

“Look.” Damiskos pushed himself up on his elbow again, looking down at Varazda. “I’m not going to press the point. I know you know what you’re doing. But if I haven’t already made it quite clear that I would not take advantage of you, in any way—I wish you’d tell me why.”

Varazda looked up at him for a long moment. The air between them felt heavy as a thunderstorm, but what it was charged with, Damiskos could not have said.

“No, First Spear, I know that,” Varazda said finally, reverting to his old, acerbic tone. He moved away from Damiskos a little to sit up. “I think we have drawn this out long enough.”

“Absolutely.”

They both moved at the same time, Varazda pushing himself up and swinging a leg over Damiskos to get off the couch, Damiskos turning on his side to manoeuvre his stiff knee, and there was a very slight collision. Very slight but very telling.

Varazda had slithered off the couch in an instant and was grabbing up his shoes and his crumpled shirt and pretending it hadn’t happened. Damiskos wasn’t entirely sure it had.

“Was that … Are you … uh … turned on?” That changed things considerably.

Varazda’s dark eyes flashed up at him, furious.

“Holy God. You just can’t leave anything unsaid, can you? It does work, yes, after a fashion. And I don’t—as it happens—prefer women.”

“Oh,” said Damiskos, at a loss. “I see.”

Chapter 9