He woke alone next morning,
but still earlier than usual. He rolled over in to the hollow where Majek had
slept, smelling the faint tobacco and man scent of him. Noises in the rest of
the apartment told of the others busy about their business. Sighing, he got
himself up and, with a little distaste, into yesterday's clothes. A visit
downstairs was clearly indicated.
Out in the
salon the Ara fellow was busy rearranging the furniture. Dorian wished him a
good morning and got a look of radiant happiness in return.
"Oh
Milord- Lord Gloria-" He smiled like the sun coming up, apparently lost
for words.
"Something's happened?"
"Oh-
no- I mean yes- I mean-" The man was transformed. "Oh Milord, how can
I ever thank you?" He came over, grabbed Dorian's hand and kissed it.
"You're
welcome, darling, but I still don't know-- Oh." The light dawned.
"General Szintarow?"
Araszyam
nodded energetically. "He said he was going to change the custom. And it
was your doing- I know he'd never have done it if he thought the old General
would disapprove- oh, thank you, Milord." He kissed Dorian's hand again
but Dorian caught his chin, lifted it, and kissed him on the mouth.
"I'm so
glad, my dear. Enjoy." They smiled at each other. Just a concourse of
happy lovers, that's what this apartment was. But there was still the inner man
to be attended to. "Is breakfast still on?"
"Yes.
They're all in the dining room."
"Then
I'll look in. What's all this for?" He nodded at the rearranged sofas and
chairs.
"A guest
is coming this morning. The general wants him received very carefully."
"Oh. I
see." Klaus. His heart sank a little. "Well, I'll leave you to
it."
He could
hear Gunmar and Kinta talking happily before he reached the dining room, with
punctuations from Takamatsu, and back of that the low rumble of Majek and
Szintarow speaking Circassian.
"Good
morning," he said to the company, stopping in the doorway. Majek looked
over with raised eyebrows, his usual mode of acknowledegement. Szintarow
grinned at him, Gunmar gave him a beam, Takamatsu a knowing smile and even
Kinta a small nod. There was no sign of Jean and Sergei.
"Not up
yet," Szintarow said, seeing his eyes going to the empty chairs.
"Jean's
got ten more minutes," Kinta said. "Then I'm going in and pulling him
out of bed myself. We've got work to do."
"Have
mercy," Dorian said. "I think he had a busy night. I'm just going
downstairs to get my things," he told Majek. "I'll see you
shortly."
Majek
nodded. "There's plenty left here. Take your time."
Heading to
the front door he was aware of a small nervousness. Well, if Ruza wanted a word
with him, he could have it. It was time someone asked the man his intentions.
Halim's Pole was back on guard duty. Mindful of his presence Dorian pressed the
button, biting his lip involuntarily, and did no more than draw a small breath
when the opening doors revealed two figures inside the lift. They exited
hastily and then stopped, looking at the Pole's raised rifle in surprise.
"Excuse
me, sir," the older of the two said to Dorian. He was a white haired man
with a white moustache and an Austrian accent. "The man who just came up
here- did you see him?"
"No-one's just come up here," Dorian said.
"He
took the lift just ahead of us. It can't have been more than two minutes ago.
Did he go--" He gestured to the coded door.
Dorian
looked at the guard who shook his head. "No-one's come up in the elevator
or entered the suite this morning." He frowned at the newcomers.
"Is
there only one suite on this floor?" That was the other man, a short round
Swiss in his 50's.
"Yes."
They looked
at each other. "He must have stopped at another floor," the Swiss
said.
"But
there are only the two buttons in the elevator," his companion argued.
"It
only goes between the penthouse and the lobby," Dorian supplied.
"But
then-"
The door
opened behind them and Takamatsu came out, stopping at sight of the little
group.
"Friends, Lord Gloria?"
"Please
excuse us," the Swiss said. "The Professor here thought he saw an
acquaintance coming to your floor-."
"Wait-" The professor and Takamatsu spoke almost together.
"I
remember you," the Austrian said. "That Japanese from Circassia.
Don't say it- I'll remember in a minute. Tada-"
"Takamatsu," he said, and swallowed. "Professor
Hoefensthall from Dusseldorf. We met years ago. I've read your papers, of
course-"
"You
were here, at that conference, with young Aouille. Not much more than a boy
yourself then. He died shortly after, didn't he?"
Takamatsu nodded. "Yes."
"I know
it sounds mad but I saw someone very like him down in the lobby. The
resemblance was really-- well, startling. He got on this elevator and I made
Herr Wohl here follow me up-" He pressed his lips together. "But this
man says nobody's come here this morning."
"No," Takamatsu said. "Nobody has." He bit his own
lip, looking at the Professor. "I think you'd better come inside.
Alright-" he forestalled the Pole. "Ask the General's permission. Say
it's an acquaintance of mine."
"The
General?" Hoefensthall asked.
"General Szintarow. This is the Circassian suite."
"Oh, I
see. Tell me, these stories- is there anything behind them?"
"I'm
afraid I'm not at liberty to say," Takamatsu answered, eyes on the door
through which the Pole had disappeared.
"That
sounds promising."
"Really- I'm sure you'll be disappointed, sir." And at that
moment the door opened and Kinta came out.
"There-
you see!" The professor said in triumph. Kinta looked startled. "I
saw you downstairs just now, didn't I?"
"No.
I've been here all morning. Takamatsu, that man said-"
"This
is Professor Hoefensthall. He knew your father, Samhet."
"Ah,
Ruza Aouille's son. You look just like him. I'm pleased to meet you, sir."
Hoefensthall held out his hand. "And this is my friend Karl Wohl from Wohl
International."
Wohl shook
hands in his turn. "A pleasure, Professor Aouille. I think I've seen you
at the conference. Why did I get the idea your name was Vitolles?"
"I really
don't know," Kinta muttered.
"But
then, who was the man I saw coming up here?" Hoefensthall asked. "A
ghost?" He gave a dry chuckle but cut it short. "What's the
matter?"
"Nothing-" Kinta began but Dorian said at once, "We're
being haunted. By Kinta's father's ghost."
"Damn
it, Lord Gloria-" Takamatsu began, and Kinta said, "For God's sake,
Dorian-"
"I saw
him," Dorian insisted, "Sergei saw him, and now the Professor has
too. What more proof do you want?"
"Ruza's
ghost is haunting the hotel? How very odd. Have you any idea why?"
"You
don't believe this-" Takamatsu said.
"I saw
him as plainly as I see you. It gave me quite a turn, seeing him after all
these years when I knew he was dead. It could have been you- almost-" the
Professor eyed Kinta carefully.
"The
man we saw was shorter," Wohl said. "And dressed differently."
"Yes,
true. So you see-"
"We're
being unmannerly, keeping the Professor outside here," Takamatsu said to
Kinta. "If Szintarow has no objections-"
"No,
I'm sure not. Please- come inside."
Dorian
watched them go and took himself back to his suite. Shaving and dressing was a
leisurely activity for him, and then he had to pick a few necessities to move
into Majek's suite, and then he had to get them all somehow into a suitcase.
The last activity was the one that took the longest, so that it was a good
forty-five minutes before he was back on the fourteenth floor.
The family
was still in the dining room, with the addition of Sergei and Jean, and deep in
a serious discussion.
"You
know what I said before," Jean was saying to Kinta as he came in. "I
like the idea, but in the end it's your decision."
"It's
your discovery as well," Kinta was arguing. "You can't just throw it
all on me."
"I'm
not. I'm for telling him- maybe not all, as Majek says, but more than we're
saying tomorrow. But if you're against it, we won't."
Kinta
twisted his big hands together. "I didn't want to do this. If it wasn't
that-" He stopped and looked at Majek. "Do you believe it
happened?"
"Yes." Majek was frowning. "I believe Ruza brought them
here. I don't know if that's a good enough reason to trust them, though."
"I
liked him," Gunmar said. "Wohl. I think you can trust him."
"His
reputation is impeccable," Takamatsu said. He looked tired. "Not a
hint of anything questionable in his past or his company's. Very much a
gentleman of the old school. And it's a family concern- they keep a tight rein
on things. I don't think you could ask for anything safer."
"Does a
gentleman have the brains to deal with something this big?" Majek asked.
"He
came looking for Jean and Samh'Kinta himself. That says a lot."
"And he
saw Ruza too," Sergei remarked. "I suppose that weighs with you as
well."
"Yes it
does," Takamatsu said flatly.
"And
with me," Kinta added. "He's a friend of Hoefensthall, and
Hoefensthall was a friend of my father's. If it's what my father wants me to do
I don't think I have a choice." He looked finally at Szintarow.
"No,
I'd say not. So what will you tell them?"
"We'll
tell them about the varying chromosomal structures in the highland
Circassians." His eyes consulted Jean, who nodded. "We'll give them
genetic samples from us and the men. They'll find the same anomaly we did, of course.
We can suggest part of what it does, but much better for them to work it out
for themselves. A better chance that they'll believe it, if nothing else."
Jean nodded
again. "Sounds good to me."
"You're
going to sell this to the Swiss?" Dorian asked around a mouthful of toast.
"I hope they're paying well."
"For
exclusive information, yes," Jean said. "That's all he asked us for.
He is a gentleman, as Takamatsu said."
"Then
why are you holding back on him?"
"Because not everyone around him is a gentleman too. And by the
time they figure this out- if they do- it'll be their secret as well and not
just ours. They can have the headache of keeping it under wraps from the rest
of the world."
"It'll
mean staying in Zurich for a while, to oversee the setup." Kinta sounded
dissatisfied. "I wanted to go back home."
"You
can if you like," Jean said. "I'm going to be in Lyon from now on. I
don't mind handling the liaison."
"Lyon?!
Why?"
"I'm
moving back to France," Sergei said. "Lyon was the compromise we
worked out." He gave Jean a brief smile.
"You're
leaving?" Kinta looked stricken. "But you can't--"
"Kincza," Jean said. "Let's face facts for a minute. If
we're going to continue we can't stay in Circassia. It's too far from where things
are happening. I want to take Gruber up on his offer and that means being close
to him-"
"You
could do your research in Circassia and just-"
"But
Sergei's in France. That means I am too."
"But-" Kinta looked at Majek.
"When
are you going?" Majek's voice was a study in neutrality.
"I
leave for Lyon Friday to check out the properties available," Sergei
answered in the same fashion. "I'll probably be back in Circassia next
week to start the packing and shipping."
"Fine." Majek poured himself more coffee.
"I'll
miss you," Gunmar said. "You will come back and visit, won't
you?"
"Come
and see us instead," Sergei suggested. "I imagine Kinta will be back
and forth a lot."
"You'll
be sorry you offered," Szintarow said cheerfully. "Better get a big
apartment, if you're going around inviting us all to drop in."
Sergei
smiled, a real smile. "I don't remember inviting you," he
said.
Szintarow
grinned back. "When have I ever waited for an invitation?"
"Just
leave your men at home. I'm not entertaining an army."
"Don't
be ridiculous," Majek snapped. "Szincza doesn't travel without a
guard."
"Whatever you say," Sergei said mildly, which effectively
stopped the conversation dead. There was a small silence, broken at last by
Gunmar.
"You
know, Kinta- with what Wohl's offering you, you could afford to set up your own
institute. Why not do do that?"
"I
actually hadn't thought that far ahead-"
"A
research institute in Circassia? What a good idea," Szintarow said.
"You'd have
a lot of applicants," Takamatsu remarked. "The Russians especially-
there's not much money these days for research. You could have your pick of
them."
"Not my
pick," Kinta objected. "The top men wouldn't leave Moscow or
Leningrad for Circassia-"
"Don't be too sure," Jean said.
"New equipment's quite a draw."
"And
the younger scholars," Takamatsu said. "With your connection to the
Swiss they'd be beating down your door."
"You'd
have government support, for what it's worth," Szintarow said.
"Yes," Kinta said slowly, "I suppose it's possible. I
could start out on a small scale. The set-up and the furnishing, I could handle
that part. But then afterwards- all the administration- it would take me from
my work."
"Hire
someone," Majek said. "Administrators are easily come by."
"I'd
need someone with a scientific background as well, and it'd have to be somebody
who understands our country. There aren't many people like that."
"There's one sitting next to you," Szintarow said. Everyone blinked
a little in surprise, Takamatsu not least.
"That's
true," Kinta said, suddenly catching fire. "You ran the hospital for
years back home."
"Yes
but-" Takamatsu said automatically. "A research facility is a lot
different from a hospital-"
"Better,"
Gunmar said. "You were always more at home in the lab than in the
wards."
"Yes-
but- well, yes." Takamatsu was frowning a little as he thought. "But
it would be a major responsibility, Samhet. Are you sure you'd trust me so
far?"
"Before
anyone," Kinta said. "Look, we have to talk about this- after Friday-
and see if it's feasible-"
"Just
make sure someone else handles the purse strings," Sergei said.
"Takamatsu's got no notion of money."
"That's
not true!" Kinta was outraged.
"Oh yes
it is," Jean said. "He ran through it like water back in high school.
Bet you still haven't paid back that four hundred you borrowed from Sergei,
right?"
"And
I'm not going to," Takamatsu said. "That was thirty years ago and
only you would remember it."
"*I*
remember it," Sergei said pointedly.
"You
should charge interest," Jean advised him. "You'd clean up."
Dorian felt peculiar. It still seemed all wrong that the greying Takamatsu and
the twenty-year-old Jean had been contemporaries back when he himself was
barely an infant, and that the younger looking man was by far the older of the
two. He shivered for no good reason.
"You
could get a Russian to handle the financial end as well," Gunmar was
saying. "There's hordes of professionals out of work in the USSR."
"Would
one of them know how international investment works?" Majek asked.
"You'll need to think in those terms if you want to keep the place
going."
"If
it's investment you want, I have a good man on my staff," Dorian said.
"A genius with figures and the stock market. He loves playing with money
as long as it's not his own."
"He
wouldn't want to come to Circassia." Kinta objected.
"Try to
keep him away. If I'm there, I'm afraid you'll have him as well."
"You're
not going to be there," Majek said repressively.
"What
will you do? Close the borders against me? Call out the troops?" Dorian
smiled at him. "Locks and alarm systems have never stopped me, why should
a few mountains?"
"We'll
talk about this later." Majek drank coffee with an air of finality.
"I can
see the Eroican invasion going down in history," Szintarow said.
"Majek Sousui's one defeat."
"Szincza!"
Szintarow
laughed into his father's furious face. "Western civilization comes to
Circassia, Father. You wanted it and now you have it. Speaking of which, our
NATO connection will be here shortly. I want a fair sampling of the clan to
greet him. Will you sit in, Savijc?"
"If you
like."
"I do.
You've met him before. Gunmar?"
"Gunmar
doesn't understand politics," Majek said at once.
"He
doesn't have to. This is for show. Gunmar?"
"Of
course, Szincza, if you want me."
"You
two?"
"We're
busy," Kinta said automatically.
"We're
tempted," Jean said, giving Szintarow an appraising look. Szintarow looked
back, deadpan, and Jean sighed. "But I can't afford the time, true. Tell
me afterwards what he's up to," he said to Sergei.
The
General's mouth tightened in annoyance. "I'm not up to anything. I want to
greet an important visitor in proper fashion."
"A NATO
flunky," Takamatsu said.
"Who
has a proposal that may, as they say, be to our advantage."
"Fascinating," Takamatsu said. "Shall I attend?" He
smiled at Dorian.
"Do,
and Klaus will walk out."
"Without fulfilling his mission?" Takamatsu mimed shock.
"For
you, Doctor, I think even the Major would desert his duty."
"I take
it they've met," Majek said.
"Once
or twice, in Lord Gloria's bedroom," Takamatsu said, smiling meaningfully
at Majek.
Brief anger
flashed in Majek's eyes and was gone. "And you managed to find each other
in the crowd?" he asked.
Dorian
turned his head to hide a self-conscious smile and caught a swift gleam of
surprise and appreciation in Sergei's face. Szintarow gave a smothered whoop of
laughter and grabbed his father in a rib-cracking hug.
"Szincza," Majek protested, freeing himself with difficulty.
"Stop romping."
Gunmar was
smiling at the scene but the Doctor looked to be readying himself for another
attack.
"I
thought we had a deal," Dorian said to him pointedly. "You were going
to keep your knife out of my back."
"It's a
reflex," Jean cut in. "He can't help it."
"All
those years of playing with scalpels," Szintarow nodded. "Now he has
a taste for blood. Excuse him, Dorian."
Seeing
himself outnumbered, Takamatsu shrugged. "If that's how you feel you're
not getting my help in dealing with Eberbach. There's no use begging-
there's no use crawling-"
"You
see me doing it?" Szintarow asked.
"-it
won't do you any good. You'll have to rely on Lord Gloria to keep the man in
line."
"He's
our guest," Szintarow said. "There's no question of keeping people in
line. But he may welcome a familiar face. What about it, Dorian?"
"Szincza-" Majek looked disturbed. "What are you
suggesting?
"Dorian's your man. He's entitled to be present at this."
"But
wasn't the Major-" Gunmar started to say, and stopped. "Oh-
sorry."
"What
about it, Dorian?"
"I've
no objection." His voice was tranquil enough, thank god, even though his
insides churned a bit. He had no desire to see Klaus at all but he was damned
if he'd run from the man.
"Good.
Then we'll see you in the salon in twenty minutes.
Dorian
thought calm cool thoughts, making his breathing steady.
"Is
this really alright?" Gunmar asked beside him.
"Yes
of course. He's just an ex-lover. One of many."
"Just-
the way you talked about him-"
"It
wasn't an amicable parting, but that hardly signifies. I'm civilized even if
he's not."
"I see."
Gunmar sounded dubious. "And are you coming back to Circassia with us or
not? Kinta said last night that you were-"
"I'm
coming. I just have to persuade Majek of that."
"Oh." He still looked unconvinced. Dorian smiled at him.
"Don't
you trust me to get my way?"
"Yes.
But Papa always gets his way too."
"I won
the first round with him," Dorian reminded him. "I'll win the others.
I agree Circassia doesn't sound quite my cup of tea- boar hunts and
barbecues-"
"Oh
heavens- I hoped you wouldn't take all that seriously. Kinta and Takamatsu were
just teasing you. Boars are a protected species now."
"Oh I
see. Teasing. Like those three times a lifetime baths?"
Gunmar
smiled. "Yes, exactly. Kinta and Szincza like to tease people. They tease
me all the time. It means they like you."
"I
think I could do without their liking, frankly."
"Oh
no- really. Because you'll be living with Kostya too and Kostya only likes
people that Kinta and Szincza like."
"Does
he? Why?"
"He just
does. He always liked them both even when they couldn't stand each other. He's
a little- psychic, actually, if you believe in psychics."
"Hmmm." The ramifications of having a stepson hadn't occurred
to Dorian, especially a psychic one. "Sees things, does he?"
"No.
Knows things. He's always been a little strange that way. Papa-" Gunmar
checked to see if they were alone- "Papa was always a little afraid of
him, I think. That's what he and Szincza fell out over. Papa wanted Kostya kept
away from him, and he shut him up in one of the fortresses and wouldn't let
Szincza know where. It was really awful for awhile. I'm glad it's over."
"Szincza rebelled because of his brother? What
devotion."
"There were
a lot of other things but that was the final straw. They're very close, Szincza
and Kostya and Majek. You know what it's like when people love each other too
much. They can't help hurting each other."
"I
suppose. And then there are people who just like hurting others."
"Oh, I
don't think Papa was ever that bad. But it was- well, a habit he'd got into, I
guess. A lot of people got hurt when he was putting the country together and I
think maybe he just figured it was unavoidable."
It wasn't
Majek Dorian had been thinking of, but he gave a neutral 'mmm' of agreement.
"But
Szincza managed to change Majek's mind and now they're all quite happy
together. It's almost calm over there now."
Dorian
regarded him. "And where do you fit in this? You're Majek's oldest son,
after all. Don't you mind being- well, the outsider?"
Gunmar
smiled to himself. "Szincza's his son in all the ways that matter. You
know, Takamatsu and Uncle Savijc- all they really did was put us where we
belonged. I can't imagine how Takamatsu would have coped with someone like
Szincza, growing up, and I can't imagine how I'd have survived as Majek's
son. They probably saved my life when
they changed us around. I tried to tell Takamatsu that when he was being so
guilt-ridden after we found out. He just can't see it. But it's so obvious that
I got the best of the deal."
"But
you got nothing from it."
Gunmar
looked astonished. "What do you mean? I got everything. I had Takamatsu to
look after me all the time I was growing up, when Kinta was alone by himself
and Szincza was butting heads with Majek. I got to work in the field I love
without people telling me I had to run an army or a country instead. I can do
it at home in Circassia so I don't have to live abroad like Uncle Savijc. And I
can be with Kinta all the time because he likes Circassia too, but I can work
on the road when he has to travel. How could it be better?"
"Somehow- if I thought I could have had Majek to myself- I'd mind
very much that something had stopped me."
Gunmar was
silent a moment. "I love my father, you know, but if there's one thing I
owe Takamatsu it's that he made sure Majek never even noticed me until I was
twenty-five. He gave me the chance to turn into me. I wish I could make him
understand how much I appreciate that."
"I
think," Dorian said, "there are some points we'll never agree
on."
"Perhaps-" but his sentence was interrupted. Majek and Sergei
came into the room, at the same time but not together, followed a moment later
by Szintarow with that dark friend of Miyagui's in tow. Dorian swiftly got
himself over to Majek's side. They all milled about for a moment, but before
they had a chance to fall into natural groups the doorbell rang. And a moment
later Klaus strode into the room with Ara behind him.
Klaus barely
blinked as his scanning eyes took in the fact of Dorian's presence.
"General," he said to Szintarow, "Major Klaus Heinz von
dem Eberbach from NATO. How do you do," and gave a short soldier's nod.
Dorian saw him summing up the General's appearance and noted the swift quiver
of distaste at the corner of his mouth. Klaus disliked the unusual and
Szintarow was outlandishness personified.
"Major," Szintarow said, "a pleasure. This is my father,
the retired General."
Majek was
obviously more to Klaus' taste. He shook hands with what looked almost like
respect.
Majek said,
"I believe I owe your organization some thanks for your help twelve years
ago."
"Merely
my job," Klaus answered. "NATO gets to play godfather to any number
of little countries too disorganized to help themselves." That was Klaus'
blunt approach, what he called deflating conceit. Unfortunately Klaus always
assumed that everyone was in need of the treatment.
"Still,
I appreciate it," Majek said, not rising to the bait. "My
thanks."
Dorian saw
Klaus' opinion of Majek palpably change for the worse. A bubble labelled 'wimp'
was almost visible above his head. But of course Klaus didn't know that Majek
had had a lifetime of fielding Takamatsu's barbs to desensitize him.
"Well,
General, shall we begin?" Klaus said.
"Of
course. If you'll sit here," Szintarow gestured to an armchair placed next
to the sofa.
"I
prefer to speak in private."
"Not
possible. Whatever we have to say must be said before my people. That's
Circassian custom."
"As you
wish," Klaus said, not missing a beat. "But this man-" he
gestured at Dorian, "is a foreigner. I think we can dispense with his
presence."
"Lord
Gloria is sworn to my father's service. He's one of us now."
Klaus'
eyebrows rose. "Sworn?"
"According to the old forms," Majek said, frowning. "He's
my man. I take full responsibility for him."
"I'm
sorry to hear that, sir," Klaus said with every evidence of deep regret.
"He's deceived you as to his background. This is the thief Eroica-"
"I
know. He steals art. He's still my man."
Klaus didn't
exactly draw himself up but it was suddenly very clear that he towered above
Majek. "I thought Circassian custom was quite clear about what happens to
thieves. Do you now approve of the crime?"
Szintarow
cut in. "The customs are changing, Major. Isn't that why you're here?
Let's get on with it then."
"This
man is a security risk. I'll trust the others if you vouch for them, General,
but Eroica sells his services to the highest bidder. Do you know who he's
working for now?"
"Not a
clue," Szintarow said cheerfully. "Who are you working for now,
Dorian?"
"No-one, General, though NATO asked me to take on a spying mission
for them here the other day."
Szintarow
grinned. "And did you agree?"
"Of
course not. The pay's terrible."
"So
there we are, Major. Lord Gloria is here as one of the family. Nothing to worry
about."
Klaus smiled
genially. "Very well, General. As you wish." Dorian sent a worried
glance at Majek who met it with a small reassuring smile.
They seated
themselves, Szintarow and Klaus facing each other across the low table placed
at the centre of the ring of chairs. Majek sat on the sofa with Dorian beside
him- fortunately, Dorian was next to the General's chair rather than Klaus'-
and Sergei and Gunmar across from them. Ara stood behind Szintarow's chair and
the other dark-haired man by the door. The set-up looked designed to isolate
Klaus, or at least that was how Klaus, smiling and clearly at his ease, was
interpreting it. He took out his cigarettes, lit one, and sat back in his
chair, his sardonic green eyes looking them all over and- patently, to Dorian's
eye at least- dismissing them.
There was a
short silence. Klaus would be waiting for Szintarow to make the first move on
the grounds that it was best to see your opponent's position before moving
yourself. Szintarow was simply waiting- for what, Dorian had no idea. The
silence went on for an embarrassing length of time, but Dorian noticed that
none of the others were showing any indication of it. Beside him Majek sat as
relaxed as a man waiting for a train that wouldn't arrive for another ten
minutes. Dorian forced himself to calm.
The door opened
and Miyagui came in with a tray that he put on the table in the centre. It
contained a brass coffeepot and several small cups. He poured one and set it in
front of Klaus, then served Szintarow and Majek, and withdrew. Szintarow took
his cup and sipped it slowly. After a minute Klaus did the same.
"You
don't have any Nescafe?" he asked.
"Nescafe?" Szintarow looked puzzled. "What's that?"
"Coffee. Never mind." Klaus put his half-full cup down on the
table. Majek had still made no move to touch his own. Dorian caught Gunmar's
eye and glanced inquiringly at the coffeepot. Gunmar shook his head minutely,
making a 'wait' gesture with his hand. So obviously this wasn't intended as
general refreshments but served some other purpose. With no alternative, Dorian
waited to see what it was.
Szintarow
drained his cup, put it down, and said, "Now. As for NATO's proposal, we
think we can agree to your requests in return for certain favours. Of course we
don't expect membership right away, but we'd want some guarantees that you'll
consider us favourably when we do submit our application...' Dorian blinked,
feeling he'd been caught napping, but Klaus was right on top of the General's
speech.
"We can
give no formal guarantees at this state of the proceedings, of course, but
naturally our member countries will be well-disposed to anyone who co-operates
fully with us in our attempts to curtail illegal shipments from the old
USSR..."
"We'll
need more than vague promises of goodwill, Major. Feeling in the country is
that our interests lie more to the east than the west and that co-operating
with the Georgians would be better for us than trying to thwart them. I need
something solid to give my people as an indication of what you Europeans
intend."
This went on
for some time. Klaus and Szintarow offered proposals and counter-proposals to
each other like chess players advancing their men. Klaus talked about missile
bases while Szintarow pushed for favoured nation status. Klaus obscurely
threatened the results of being excluded from the European Community while
Szintarow obscurely threatened the results of Circassia aligning itself with
the Communist world. The discussion grew more heated.
"We
must be able to station our troops within your borders," Klaus was
insisting.
"Absolutely impossible," Szintarow replied. "A foreign
army on Circassian soil? The people would think I'd sold the country to the
West. In ten years time, yes- maybe even five if I can get the money for
education and better communications- but not before that. In the countryside
the peasants still think you have cloven feet."
"I'm
not buying that line for a minute. The people will do anything you tell them
to. Circassia is a dictatorship and everyone knows it."
"We
have our own kind of democracy, Major. If I get too dictatorial, somebody
shoots me."
"Don't
hide behind your people's skirts, General. Or aren't you man enough to run your
own country? That I can believe."
"What's
that supposed to mean?" Szintarow demanded.
"What
do you think it means?" Klaus snapped. "You can fool all of Circassia
from your father on down but you can't fool me. It's obvious to anyone with
half an eye. Look at you, sitting there in that flashy outfit with all the skin
showing, and this effeminate pervert beside you." He turned to Majek.
"You think Lord Gloria is your man? You're wrong. He's your son's woman.
That's the sort of creature you've taken into your *service*." He spat out
the last word, giving Szintarow a glance of pure hatred.
There was
complete silence. They all stared at Klaus who smiled in wolfish satisfaction
at the damage he believed he'd done. The idiotic twit, Dorian thought, and was
about to say so when Majek spoke first.
"Is
that a fact?" he asked.
"That's
a fact," Klaus said with contempt. "You've closed your eyes to the
obvious for too long, Majek. Your son's a pervert and Lord Gloria is his fancy
boy. Just look at them."
Majek didn't
turn his head. "I told you, Lord Gloria is my man. My man. Not my
son's. Not yours, any more. Mine."
"Yours?!" Klaus went white as the meaning sank in. "Yours?
He's your lover? You're a pervert too?" He got himself under some
semblance of control, but his voice shook. "Well, well. Imagine the great
hero of Circassia turning into a bum-loving bugger. Have you no shame, at your
age?"
Dorian didn't see what happened next. There
was nothing *to* see, just that sudden solid feeling to the air-- and then
Klaus' chair skittered wildly to one side and Klaus himself hit the floor hard,
blood running from his nose. Dorian turned hastily to tell Sergei to stop, but
Sergei was sitting motionless with surprise, staring at the man beside him.
Gunmar was on his feet, fists balled, fury turning his eyes an unnatural shade
of blue.
"How
d-dare y-you-" His voice wobbled out of control. "How d-dare you say
that about Papa! Who do you think you are, coming here with your stupid hurt
vanity and insulting a better man than yourself?" Two angry tears ran down
his cheeks. "You have no shame. Get back to NATO and tell them to
send us a man to deal with, not a dirty schoolboy!"
"Gunmar." Szintarow rose quickly and put two calming hands on
his cousin's shoulders. "It's alright, Gunmar. Calm down."
"Szincza." Gunmar blinked, clenching and unclenching his
fists. He turned and looked at Klaus' thunder-black face as he got himself to
his feet, and said, "But Szincza, he shouldn't have said that-"
"No
indeed," Majek said. "It's not a good idea to insult our
family." He spoke slowly and kept his eye on Gunmar. "Remember that
for the future, Major."
"Your
precious family," Klaus said. "You bunch of deformed perverts.
There's not a real man in the lot of you." Oh God- Klaus had got himself
into one of his rages when his mouth had stopped being connected to his brain.
He'd say anything in this state. He was saying anything in this state.
"This is a nest of stinking pansies and queers-"
"Oh do
shut up, Klaus, for pity's sake," Dorian intervened. "You're always
so stuffy when you have a tantrum. What on earth are you if not a
queer?"
"I'm a
man!" Klaus yelled at him. "And you-"
"I'm a
woman? You've seen me naked enough times to know that's not true."
"You're
a whore, is what you are. You'll open your ass for any man, and it's clear you
have." He glowered from Majek to Szintarow. "You don't give a fart
for honour or decency. You hide behind your title and pretend to be a
gentleman, and think there's something to choose between yourself and a common
streetwalker. There's not."
"And you think there's something to
choose between yourself and me," Dorian said, exasperated. "What
makes you different from anyone else here?"
"I know
the meaning of right and wrong. I know what honour is, and duty and morality-
all those things you're incapable of understanding."
"How
true. All I see is that I'm a man who has sex with men and you're a man who has
sex with men."
"Only
with you, and only because you seduced me," Klaus said bitterly. "The
way you seduce everyone- the way he seduced you, I'll bet." Klaus spoke
seriously to Majek. "Beware of him, General. He'll find your weak spot and
use it against you. I was a clean man before I met him. He corrupted me and
made me the same as himself. He compromised my career and endangered my
immortal soul-"
"Note
which he puts first," Dorian interposed, weary of the familiar tirade.
Like sticking a bandalliro into a bull, he thought, and how accurately. Klaus
bellowed and came at him swinging, only to fly through the air again as if
hitting an invisible trampoline. Dorian, who'd been ducking to the other side
of the table, could swear Gunmar hadn't moved. It was Szintarow who dropped his
arm, turned and sat down in his chair again. Klaus picked himself up, face
wiped clean of anger. Dorian could practically see the wheels turning in his
head.
"What was
that?" he asked in a voice next door to a threat.
"What
was what?" Szintarow asked, shortly.
"You
threw something at me- you weren't close enough to connect yourself-"
"I
didn't see anything." He traded Klaus glower for glower.
"Exactly. You have some new weapon. What is it?"
Szintarow
leant forward, elbows on knees. "You focus the energy of your soul,"
he said with perfect seriousness, "draw it from your heart into your hand,
and let it go. That's all."
"This
is no joke, General. If you have some secret weapon we don't know about
yet-"
"Will
you give us NATO membership to find out what it is?"
"Don't
be stupid."
Szintarow
shrugged, contemptuous. "Well, maybe we'll try the Chinese. It's more
their sort of thing. The interview's over, Major. Good-bye."
"Don't
think you can get away that easily," Klaus said. "NATO keeps track of
everything that happens in Europe and that includes you." His eyes raked
over them and settled on Majek. "And as for you, General- keep a close eye
on your bum-boy there. He's a whore. It's just a matter of time before he
starts cuckolding you with your son."
"Don't
do it," Szintarow said at once to his father. "Gunmar's right. He's a
dirty schoolboy. Let him go."
"I
wouldn't think of doing otherwise." Majek's expression belied his words.
"Don't let me see you again, Major. You remind me too much of someone I
want to forget. And next time we meet my sons may not be there to protect
you." He got up and walked to the window, turning his back on them all.
Szintarow
nodded at Araszyam. "Take him to the bathroom, clean him up and show him
out." Ara discreetly motioned Klaus to the door. Klaus' gaze flicked from
Majek's back to Szintarow's anger-darkened face. He gave a small satisfied
smile and left. Clearly he believed he'd come out on top, though God alone knew
what he thought he'd won.
Dorian half-rose to go to Majek, then
reconsidered and sat down again. Szintarow spared him a brief glance that said
quite clearly 'You're learning.' There was silence.
Majek turned around and
saw them all watching them. He frowned deeply and came back to the sofa.
"Get me some coffee," he ordered, and Miyagui's dark friend hastened
to obey.
"Papa," Gunmar
said. He was still standing by his chair, very pink in the face and biting his
lips.
Majek's sombre eyes
lighted on him and he gave a small tight smile. "Blood will tell. Thank
you, Gunmar." Gunmar went red and sat down quickly, overcome with
happiness and confusion.
Majek turned his gaze
back to the table top and his expression darkened again. Dorian could imagine
what he was thinking. Klaus' barbs had gone deep. This was the sort of thing
Majek could expect to hear from the Circassian peasantry as well, and there was
no use expecting him to enjoy the prospect.
The soldier came back with a full coffee pot
and poured for all of them, even Sergei who sat aloof in a silence as deep as
his brother's.
"But what happens now?" Dorian
asked to break the silence. "With NATO and all?"
"Don't worry," Szintarow said.
"This was just the first round. They'll be back. The Major will see to
that."
Majek looked up at him then, anger flaring in
his face. "Why did you insist on having Dorian here?"
"I told you. He's your man. He has a
right to be with you."
"And you wanted me to see exactly what
that would lead to."
Szintarow shook his
head. "I don't presume to give you lessons, Father. In anything. The Major
surprised me too."
"And me,"
Dorian chimed in. "Frankly, I wouldn't have thought he cared."
Majek's eyes flicked between them and away.
"If you'd planned
this to humiliate me, you couldn't have done it better," he said fiercely.
"Humiliate you?" Szintarow sounded
astonished. "Humiliate you? How?"
"You can't honestly mind what Klaus
said?" Dorian protested. "I know he behaved badly, but that was just
jealousy. Really, Majek- why should you care if someone like him calls you
names?"
"Is it just because he reminds you of
the President?" Gunmar asked tentatively.
"The President?" It was Majek's
turn to look astonished.
"You said he reminded you of
someone-"
"Oh. No. Not the President."
They looked at him in perplexity.
"Who, then?" Szintarow finally asked.
Majek scowled. "A certain
General Majek of Circassia."
Dorian blinked in
surprise, but before he could speak Sergei said, "You do yourself an
injustice, brother. You were never smug."
Majek looked at him from
under his eyebrows. "Indeed?"
Sergei looked back at
him levelly. "Indeed. Rigid and moralistic and narrow in your views, yes.
But self-satisfied, no."
"You're so devoted
to me, little brother."
"Yes I am, old
bear, and it's more than you deserve. But if I've put up with your ways until
now, I can put up with them for another sixty years. You may even be human by
then." Sergei rose. "Hold on to Dorian. He'll show you how."
Majek's fist hit the
table. "Since when does my family presume to give me advice about my
private life?"
"Since you've had a
private life for us to give you advice about." Sergei smiled down into his
brother's angry face. "A matter of some twenty hours. Patience, brother.
We'll get used to it eventually, and so will you." He swept out the door.
"Aaagh," Majek
said in disgust, but Dorian could feel the tension going from his body. He
drained his coffee cup and motioned for more. "Get out, all of you, and
leave me alone." Rather to Dorian's surprise, Szintarow obeyed at once,
nodding himself and Gunmar to the door.
"Should we just
leave him like that?" Dorian asked when they were out in the corridor.
"Yes. He hates
apologizing."
"Who's he going to
apologize to?" Dorian asked in confusion.
"Uncle
Savijc," Gunmar said, "and he already did."
"But when- Oh,
never mind," as he saw the General and Gunmar exchanging glances. This
must be that cryptic Circassian communication that Jean had mentioned. Cryptic
indeed. Maybe he himself had apologized to someone- or challenged Majek to
twenty laps around the Houses of Parliament- without ever being aware of it.
This new facet of life in Circassia occupied his mind for a moment. Perhaps he
should get someone to tell him what he was really saying, just as Don
Vollovonte had instructed him that when he bit a fingernail in Naples, he was
casting aspersions on his host's paternity, and when he rubbed an itchy nose he
was implying that a price was too high.
"Nice work back
there," Szintarow was saying to Gunmar as they turned into the small
study.
"He made me angry.
I don't- it's not something I like doing."
"That's twice in one
week. It's getting to be a habit." Szintarow's words carried some unknown
meaning. Gunmar frowned.
"It's just- it's
just what's happening now. I don't want to be doing it, in spite of what
Papa said-" He broke off, blushing again.
"Is this this ki
thing you're talking about?" Dorian asked.
"Ki?" Szintarow asked,
"That's what Sergei called it. That
silent bomb."
"Then I suppose that's what it is,"
he shrugged. "We have another name for it at home."
"Is it something else your family
does?" Dorian asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Oh yes. With a
little practice, of course. You could probably do it yourself if you put your
mind to it."
"Me? Really?"
"Why not? If even
Gunmar can manage it-" Szintarow said wickedly, and Dorian realized that
this must be an old line of teasing.
"Well, it's a thought," he
said. The uses it might be put to ran through his head. "Maybe Majek could
train me in it."
"Better let me do
that," Szintarow said. "Majek's too much a natural. He never had to learn
how himself. But it takes time. Six months of doing nothing else."
"Oh well- in that
case, perhaps not. There's other things one could be doing in six months."
"Like what?"
Szintarow sat himself in his father's chair and stretched out his legs.
"What exactly do you see yourself doing in Circassia?"
"Well... you know.
The usual. The things one does."
"The things one
does in Circassia is raise sheep. Or pursue research like Gunmar, or run the
country like I do. There isn't much in the way of simple amusement. People work
there, and Father not least. I wonder what an aristocrat like you will find to
keep him busy. Your usual occupation is simply out of the question."
"Oh yes?"
Dorian sensed a challenge in the words.
"Yes. There's
nothing to steal, for one thing." Szintarow was looking at him closely.
"And don't expect Majek to be as liberal there as he is here. We have a
saying: 'Travellers need no shame.' When he's home he'll be much
stricter."
"I'll manage,"
Dorian assured him, hiding his annoyance at the intrusion into his private
affairs. "There's no need to concern yourself about me."
Gunmar said tentatively,
"Lord Gloria- Szincza's not interfering, you know. It's just- he's the
head of the family. It's his job to think of things that might-" He blushed
a little. "-I don't mean to be offensive, but- things that might affect
the family's honour. Like if you start stealing things, you know..." His
voice trailed off.
"Or debauching our
good-looking young men," Szintarow added.
"You're hardly in a
position to talk," Dorian pointed out.
"I'm a Circassian.
I know the line between friendly talk and a proposition, and I don't think you
do."
"Of course I do!
What do you think I am, a child?"
"It's not the
same," Gunmar said earnestly. "Home is different from Europe. The way
you walk, even- at least some Circassians would think you were flirting with
them."
"And can you tell
who wants you to flirt with them and who'd take it as a mortal insult? Look the
wrong way at some people and you'll have a knife in your ribs. We can tell who
they are. You can't."
"I don't need
anyone but Majek and I intend to make that perfectly clear. I'm not looking to
take your peasant population by storm."
"Good. Being
Majek's will probably protect you. But ask Savijc sometime what it's like to be
a beautiful man in a country like ours." With surprise Dorian saw that the
General was perfectly serious. "He's a Circassian and Majek's brother, but
it still wasn't always easy for him. People have their own ideas, and you're a
foreigner to make it worse. Can you fight?"
"Yes," Dorian
said firmly. "I'm very good with a knife."
Szintarow nodded.
"That's a relief. So you can fight your own duels."
"You still have
duels? I thought you were modernized."
"You don't drag a
country from the 16th century to the twentieth in a decade. We're modernized
and medieval at the same time. Computers in the city and blood feuds in the
hillsides."
"Really? It sounds
wonderful. Europe is too modern. No one cares about things like honour any
more, and it's been centuries since anyone fought a duel to the death. I think
I'm going to like your country a lot." He smiled at the prospect of
adventure and danger opening before him, and had the unexpected satisfaction of
seeing the General look dumbfounded. "Oh come on, General. I've survived
in the Arab world, I won't have problems in Circassia."
"Have it your
way." Szintarow shrugged. "I see why Father thinks it'd be like
putting a match to a powder keg to bring you back. Fight it out with him."
"Can I count on
your support?" Dorian pressed.
Szintarow hesitated, for
once apparently not absolutely sure of himself. "Let's say I won't oppose
you." He frowned. "I think it'd be a good thing for him to have you
around, but if he says no, I won't argue with him. It's his decision."
This lukewarm response
was less than consoling. It wasn't that Dorian thought he needed the man's
help, naturally, but he expected Szintarow to show a bit more interest in his
father's choice of a living partner. The young General's complete indifference
to the Earl of Red Gloria was astounding, and more than a little galling. Some
acknowledgment of Dorian's attractions- a little gratitude that Szintarow's
much-loved father had acquired such a treasure for his lover- maybe even the
faintest hint of regret that circumstances made Dorian Majek's exclusive
property-- that was surely the least he was entitled to?
"You talk as if I
was a vitamin regime that your father should take for his own good," he
said, nettled. "I didn't start this affair for the sake of Majek's health,
you know."
"I know. It was
because you'd dropped the Major and needed a new man."
Dorian gasped. He tried
to speak but indignation literally choked him. He slammed his hand on the
table. "If you believe that--" he managed, and took a deep
breath. "If you believe *that*, then you don't know the effect your father
has on people. The first minute I saw him- it was all over for me after that.
Like being struck by lightning- I couldn't move, I couldn't think, All I could
do was sit there with my mouth open and my eyes goggling, staring at him. I'm
amazed the waiters didn't call an ambulance. I must have looked like a stroke
victim."
"Oh yeah?"
Szintarow's eyebrows quirked disbelievingly. "And the timing was just a
coincidence?"
"Timing? I didn't
break with Klaus until after that. If you think I'm just on the rebound-- Oh.
That is what you think, isn't it?"
"What else would I
think, with the Major still out for blood?"
"He's had his
blood," Dorian said, impatient in his own turn. "Now he can go and
vanish. He's simply not part of the equation any more. He hasn't been from the
minute I set eyes on Majek."
"Do you always
throw your lovers away as easily as that?"
"Just what are you
implying? You sound like --" Light dawned. Oh, right. Just as Sergei had
said: Szintarow was being clan head with a vengeance. Dorian gave him a
sardonic look. "I take it you're asking me my intentions? Don't worry,
General, they're perfectly honourable. I am passionately devoted to your
father, and I assure you," he slid down on one knee and laid a hand to his
breast, "if you give me Majek's hand in marriage I'll be able to maintain
him in the style to which he has become acccustomed. I am a man of some
property- the family seat in Kent, a townhouse in London, a proper carriage and
equipage- he'll want for nothing under my roof."
"Under your
what?" Szintarow was looking at him as if he was mad. Gunmar murmured,
"Lord Gloria, please..."
"In point of
fact," Dorian continued, "I'm very constant in my attachments. I put
up with Klaus for seven years, if you want an example of my patient
forebearance. You could ask him for a reference."
"Lord Gloria,
you're not helping," Gunmar said. "Please be serious."
"OK," Dorian
said, regaining his seat, "I'm serious. I love Majek. I'm not going to
change my mind overnight. I've been looking for someone like him all my life
but I didn't realize it. Klaus was just a wrong turning I took back a ways. I
can't imagine living without Majek. I need him and he needs me. You're right,
I'm good for him and we both know it. So there you are. I love him.
Satisfied?"
Szintarow was frowning.
"So do I love him, and I've been doing it for a lot longer than you have.
He's my father, Dorian. I want him to be happy in the time that's left to him,
and I don't know if you're the one to do that."
"What do you
mean?" Dorian asked. "The time that's left to him? He's going to live
forever, and I'll be right beside him, and I assure you he'll be very
happy."
The General said nothing.
A presentiment rippled up Dorian's spine.
"He will
live forever, won't he? The treatment will work with him?" Silence. A
small fear squeezed at his heart. "What is this?" he demanded.
"Gunmar-"
Gunmar bit his lips, eyes flicking between
Dorian and his cousin.
The General spoke at last. "He
hasn't had the treatment. He refused it."
"Refused? He can't
refuse. Why would he-"
"He has his
reasons. He didn't tell me what they are."
"You must have
asked, surely?!"
"No. Why would
I?"
"Why would you??
Because--" He was on his feet, staring at Szintarow in distress.
"What's wrong with all of you? Don't you care what happens to him?"
"Lord Gloria-"
Gunmar said. "Of course we care. But you don't argue with Papa--"
"You don't, maybe,
but I will. This is ridiculous."
He turned and dashed
from the room, hearing Szintarow call his name behind him. Unheeding he slammed
into the salon.
"Majek!" he
said, sliding to a stop. "Majek, what is all this? Szintarow said--"
Majek looked up from his
thoughts, annoyed. "Dorian, when I say I want to be alone, I mean I want
to be alone. Whatever it is, it can-"
"It can't wait!
Szintarow says you haven't had the treatment! Why not?"
"Treatment? What-
Oh, that treatment. No, of course not. Is that all you wanted? Then you can-"
"But Majek--"
Dorian stared at him. "Without the treatment you'll grow old. You'll get
weak and ill and- and- and someday you'll die." The idea made him want to
cry. "You can't want that to happen, surely?"
Majek shrugged.
"It's the way of life. Everyone does it."
"Not everyone, now. You Circassians
don't have to- not with your chromosomes and the treatment."
"True," Majek
agreed. "I don't have to. I choose to."
Dorian was
flabbergasted. "But why?? That makes no sense. What are you doing
it for?"
Majek looked displeased.
"My own reasons, little brother, that I don't expect you to
understand."
"What reasons? Tell
me what they are, Majek. You can't just leave the people who love you and never
tell us why!"
"Dorian, stop this.
I don't want the treatment, and that's all there is to it."
"But you're going
to leave me- leave me when we've only just met. How can you do this to
me?" The idea hurt more than he could say, and his eyes pricked him.
"I'm not going to
die for years yet. Stop wailing, for heaven's sake. I refuse to be worn down
like Kinta with Takamatsu."
"I'm not wailing.
I'm just trying to understand why you want to die when you've got so much to
live for-- " Ohh. Could that be it? Majek hadn't met him when he made that
decision. Maybe in retirement Majek had lost his zest for life. He knelt by
Majek's chair and put both arms around him. "Look, you haven't thought
this through. Think how your life has changed in the last twenty-four hours.
You have a lover now. You have me. Isn't that a reason to want to live
forever?"
"No."
"No??"
Dorian's heart was pierced with desolation, not unmixed with annoyance. Majek
smiled at his tone.
"I'll appreciate
you all the more because I know this isn't forever."
Dorian frowned. "Is
that it? You think immortality will take away your enjoyment of
life?"
"If you like,"
Majek said, shrugging.
"But that's silly,
Majek. That's like saying you shouldn't live past twenty because after that
everything loses its novelty. If you enjoy me at sixty, why shouldn't you feel
the same at six hundred?" He said it lightly, but the strangeness struck
hard and suddenly. He really was going to live to be six hundred. It made him
feel peculiar, like the first man on the moon. Did Majek feel the same...?
"There's no point
in discussing this, Dorian. My decision's taken."
"I think you're
afraid," Dorian stated.
"Oh, not
again," Majek said in disgust. "Dorian--"
"This is- it's all
new. It's never been done before. It's unnatural, just like you said. You don't
know what it'll be like. And I think you're afraid to do what hasn't been done
before."
Majek's white face and
blue eyes held him still. Maybe he'd gone too far this time? And then Majek
broke into a huge grin.
"Dorian- Dorian,
Dorian, Dorian. Ohh, little brother. What am I going to do with you?" He
was shaking with silent laughter. "I'm Majek of Circassia. All my life
I've been doing what hasn't been done before. I was born doing what hasn't been
done before. It's second nature to me now."
"Other men have
done what you did," Dorian countered, "in different times and places.
You may be the first in your country, but Alexander and Genghis Khan and
Napoleon all created empires before you. But living forever- who's done that?
Only the characters of nightmare and fantasy: elves and vampires and
necromancers."
"And Jean,"
Majek said at once. "Forget the nightmares and fantasy. Jean's the model
I've got to go by, and you couldn't find me a more reassuring one."
"Well, that's
true," Dorian admitted. "Jean's so normal it hurts."
Majek nodded. "And
I'm not. You wouldn't know the stories they've told about me for the last forty
years in my country, but they'd put your vampire tales to shame. You'll hear
enough of them when we go back."
"So I am going back
with you?"
"Since Szincza
doesn't object, yes. That was my only concern."
"That and people
talking," Dorian corrected him. "You've stopped worrying about
peasant jokes now?"
Majek snorted. "Let them joke.
They'll get used to it. Circassians need their ideas shaken up from time to
time or they turn into pumpkins. One of my jobs has always been to keep my
people one step above the sheep they herd." Looking at his frowning blue
eyes, Dorian caught a momentary glimpse of Majek in his youth- the will like a bulldozer,
impatient of others' opinions and unarguable in its force. "Life has been
so ordinary lately I'd almost forgotten who I am. I'm the great commander Majek
Sosui, who flattens mountains and makes rivers run backwards, who kills men at
thirty paces with a glance of his eye, and who once came back from foreign
parts with a strange beast, half-male and half-female, that caused all the
young men of the country to run mad."
"What-? Majek, are
you talking about me? Because if you are--"
Majek's eye gleamed
sardonically at him. "You'll be part of the legend, little brother. I
imagine that's what our peasants will make of you. And if you don't like it,
try not to prove them right."
"That may be
difficult." Dorian took the seat next to Majek. "I can't tailor my
behaviour to other people's prejudices. Gunmar already told me I walk the wrong
way for a Circassian."
"You do. And the
way you look at men is a scandal and what you do with your hands is an
invitation to a fight."
"My hands?"
Dorian looked at them in puzzlement.
"This." Majek
waved elegantly, palm up and wrist bent backwards. "You might as well call
a man a pervert to his face. It'll be a shock for our solid grandfathers when
that happens." He smiled, a smile of sheer pleasure and anticipation that stripped
years from his face. "You'll turn the country on its head inside a week. I
can't wait to see my people trying to make sense of you."
"I'm glad you're
enjoying the prospect so much," Dorian said, obscurely offended.
"I am. This will be
fun, Dorian, fun. You just don't know what it's like. You're still
young-"
"I'm not that
young," he said, nettled. "Thirty-six is grandfather age in your
country."
"Yes," Majek
agreed, "and still young. I'm over sixty and my life's work is all behind
me." His eyes went distant, sparkling in remembrance. "The battles of
my youth, the planning and scheming, the strategy and negotiating- dealing with
men who'd as soon put a dagger in my back as look at me and persuading them to
my will... All that's over now. It's not the same, chopping words with foreign
bureaucrats. Necessary work, I know, but-- small. Boring. Life has been so
dull, lately. And now--"
There was a knock on the
door.
"Father?"
"Szincza. Come
in."
The General entered,
casting a questioning glance between them.
"He's still
alive," Majek assured him. "But importunate. You don't know."
"I can guess."
"Did you want
something?"
Szintarow smiled at his father.
"No."
Majek smiled back. "Sit down, Szincza.
We were talking about his going back with me."
"Good."
"You really think
so?"
"Yes. You're
entitled to a little happiness by now."
"That's my son
talking. But what do you say as the ruler of Circassia? That's your job now,
not mine, thank God. And in your shoes, I'd say no."
"You know my
reasons for saying yes, both as your son and as ruler of Circassia. The whole
country knows what it owes you. You've earned whatever reward you like. If you
want the most beautiful man in the world for your lover, I don't think anyone
will tell you no."
"You don't know the whole of it. Dorian's trouble. He knows nothing
of civilized
behaviour--"
"Just a
minute-" Dorian began, indignant, but Majek continued right over him,
"No-one can resist him. He seduced half the family inside two days."
Szincza looked startled
and turned dubious eyes on Dorian.
"I didn't, you
know," Dorian said in annoyance. "I wasn't trying to seduce anybody.
It just happened."
"Just
happened," Szincza echoed. "Who with?"
"Savijc, Jean,
Kinta, Araszyam, Takamatsu..." Majek listed. Szintarow's eyebrows
disappeared into his hairline. "Not Gunmar, he says, but I'd bet it was a
near thing." Dorian reddened in mortification and annoyance. "It
seems he's the kind that things like that just 'happen' to. In which case, God
alone knows what mischief will come of it."
"Oddly
enough," Dorian said through gritted teeth, "I still have my free
will. I can always say no."
"And do you?"
Szintarow asked.
"Of course!"
Really, this family. "And frankly, whatever your customs are, I
don't care to have my sexual habits discussed like this. What I do in private
concerns only me and my partner--"
A snort from Szintarow
and a sigh from Majek.
"He's a European.
He doesn't understand, no matter how often you tell him," Majek said.
"So I see. Look,
Dorian, there's no 'in private' at home. Got it? What you do is always
everyone's business. Who you sleep with is just as important as who you work
with. More important. Sleeping with someone makes so much more trouble for
everyone. Jealousy, hurt feelings, discord-- it's the sort of thing that starts
feuds. That's why it's everyone's business."
"Well," Dorian
said reluctantly, wanting to be fair, "I can see why you think like that,
but..."
"Then I hope you
see too," Majek said, "why it is you can't have anybody you want just
because they want you and you want them. Do you?"
"I don't want anybody but you--"
"Don't dodge the
point. Do you?"
"Of course I do. Do
you want me to swear an oath never to have another man?" he asked
sarcastically.
"That might be a
good idea," Majek said seriously. "Since you take your oaths
seriously, at least."
Alright, then.
"Then you have to marry me," he said triumphantly. "Those are
called wedding vows where we come from," and was rewarded by Majek's
thunderstruck expression.
"Well, it's an
idea," Szintarow grinned. "Maybe the easiest solution."
"Szincza, I think
he's serious."
"Oh sure," the
General said, unbelieving.
"We can be married
in the Church of England," Dorian said. "I know a priest who'll do
the service." Father and son stared at him.
"You are
serious," Szintarow said. "You mean men really marry men over
here?"
"Yes indeed."
"And these
marriages are valid in your country?"
"Well, not
completely, but they're getting there. They're valid in Scandinavia."
"They won't be in
Circassia," Majek said. "The idea is crazy."
"But you could
marry him if it makes him happy," the General said slowly, "in a
western ceremony, quite unofficially."
"I'd want it to be
completely official," Dorian said. "Done Circassian fashion, signed
sealed and delivered."
"That means getting
the family's permission," Szintarow told him. "If you don't mind
that--"
"Well, if my
private life is as public as you say, why not?" Dorian agreed, the soul of
sweet reason, knowing perfectly well that where Majek was involved the matter
of family consensus was merely a formality.
"So we could call a
clan meeting..." Szincza looked at his father. "If you really want to
do this."
"Szincza, not you
too? You can't take this madness seriously?"
Szintarow shrugged.
"I'm thinking of a story. Once upon a time the great hero Samh'Vashtek
travelled to the wild lands of the Muscovites and came home with a
firebird."
"I know that one. I
told it to you myself. What of it?"
"You remember all
the ways he tried to bind the firebird so it wouldn't burn down the whole of
his steading? He put it in a cage of silver but the silver broke. He put it in
a cage of gold, but the gold melted. He put it in a cage of stone, and the
stone grew so hot that the bird suffocated and died. I'd point out the
parallels with Dorian."
"Meaning
what?" Dorian demanded angrily. "I burn people to death?"
"Near enough,"
the General grinned.
Majek spoke slowly.
"You set men on fire, little brother. Yes, I see. Szincza's right. You're
a force of your own and I've been trying to bind it in every way I know. I've
taken your word, and I've secured you as my man, and now you want me to marry
you."
"Well, if that's
what it takes, why not?"
"It's unnatural. It
spits on our customs. And I'm trying to imagine going back to Circassia with a
man who tells everyone he's my wife."
"I'm not your wife,
I'm your husband."
Majek reared up in
anger. "You-are-not!! How dare you--"
Szintarow put a hand on
his father's arm. "He didn't mean it like that. You're saying Majek is
your wife?"
"Of course not. He's
my husband. We're both men."
"That's not the way
we think at home," Majek said. "Never say that you're my
husband. My followers would kill you out of hand. Or I would."
"Well, at least our
married life won't be boring and domestic. Between you wanting to kill me
because you think I'm insulting you and your young men wanting to kill me
because they think I'm propositioning them, I should have all the thrills and
danger I could want."
"Dorian, you're not intending--"
"No, I'm not. And will you marry me?"
Majek scowled. "No.
Don't be silly."
"But Jean and
Sergei-"
"That's
different."
"How?"
"It just is."
"But--"
"Dorian, I'm not
going to discuss this. Now drop it."
Dorian was silent for
the moment. But the idea was looking more and more attractive. He was going to
have to do some serious thinking about it. True, it had started as half a joke.
Everyone should be married at least once, just for the experience, and he
couldn't think of anyone he'd rather marry than Majek. But a day spent watching
the ex-Commander and his son had taught him something else. If he was ever to
match Szintarow in Majek's eyes, he needed a place in the clan, and this was
the easiest, not to mention pleasantest, way of assuring himself that.
He'd won his first
point, at any rate. He was going back with Majek. Whatever happened after that,
he'd at least be in a position to work on the second point, Majek's peculiar
aversion to immortality. Not a bad morning's work at all.