“They must have been fools! No, no, of course not. They were men without divine purpose. They could afford to work subtly. I have not the luxury of such patience. I see you do not approve, my brother, just because you yourself would never take such a bold step.”
“If—” Regis began.
“If you had been here, and if you had counseled me otherwise, my decision would have been the same. Come, do not look so grim. A coronation is not a funeral! Think of the good we can accomplish!”
Regis thought of Javanne, half out of her mind, of Gabriel thrust from the office he had held so honorably for so long. Of Ariel, torn from her mother. Of Linnea, begging him to take Kierestelli to safety. Of Danilo . . .
“Power cannot coerce good will,” Regis declared, “nor can bad means serve good objectives. That is the lesson we have learned in our long and bloody history from the Ages of Chaos.”
“Ah! This is why I need you here to advise me, to be sure that I use the power of the crown in a worthy manner. I know what I am called to accomplish. I have been given the means. All I lack is guidance as to prudent yet effective methods.”
Regis bit back a caustic reply. He should take his own advice: Persuade, reason, shift gradually . . . do not provoke a man so set in his opinion by outright confrontation.
“Your goals are noble indeed,” he said slowly, “and there is no question that you now have the power to do much good. You have spent the better part of your life among men of faith and discipline, so of course you are disappointed in the failings of those who have not had such benefits.”
Rinaldo nodded, the tension in his features lightening.
“I suspect that men are more stubborn about their faith than almost anything else, even their choice of wives.” Regis kept his tone easy. “They will fight for their religion when they will fight for nothing else. I believe the Federation worlds have strict laws against the imposition of one faith over another.”
“Yes, that much is true.” Rinaldo looked thoughtful. “Lady Luminosa said as much. Even when the One True Faith is reviled, it is never proscribed.”
“It would be a terrible thing,” Regis suggested, “if its followers were forced to turn against their own consciences and worship false gods.”
Rinaldo nodded agreement.
“That being the case,” Regis went on in the same tone, “might not men of other faiths feel the same way? Most of our people know little or nothing of cristoforoways. Who knows what lies they may have been taught? Surely, once the truth is known, and the virtues of the faith have been demonstrated to them, they will eagerly embrace it.”
And if they did not, Regis would have bought time to soften his brother’s stance.
Rinaldo expelled a sigh, half frustration, half resignation. “I suppose you are right. But I cannot allow anyone of prominence in my court to follow any other religion. How could I trust their counsel? How could I be sure they were not under the influence of demons masquerading as this absurd pantheon?”
“How can any man be sure of any other?” Regis returned, thinking of all the betrayals and shifting alliances in his life. If a man behaved honorably, did it matter which god he answered to? He already knew what Rinaldo would say to that.
For a moment, the two brothers fell silent. Regis debated whether to press the issue or let it go, resting with what he had already achieved. The next opportunity for moderation might come slowly, in its own time, but it would surely come. Briefly, he considered bringing the conversation to a close with whatever cordiality might be expressed.
I have failed Javanne once. I cannot leave without trying to restore Ariel to her.
“I mentioned that I was absent on family business,” he began, and he saw Rinaldo’s interest rouse. “There is still more of that to be discussed. And, hopefully, an accord reached.”
“The Bearer of Burdens reminds us of the holy nature of blood connections,” Rinaldo replied.
Regis knew he was taking a risk, that he might well cross an invisible line and send his brother into another fit of self-righteous indignation. Carefully, he said, “You and I, for all the estrangement of our early lives, have reached an understanding. But we are not the only members of our family. We have a sister who is also a devoted wife and mother.”
“A woman of virtue. Yes, I do believe our sister is that. I have never heard a word spoken against her.”
Regis wished his heart were not pounding quite so loudly. This was an argument he must win, but not by laranGift or skill with steel, not even with cleverness of words.
“As a loving parent, she is of course concerned with the welfare of her children,” he ventured.
Rinaldo nodded, apparently not yet seeing the thrust of the argument.
“She is worried about her daughter. No, she is beside herself.” Thoughts flowed more clearly now, words rising to his lips. Compassion, Regis realized with no little surprise, was a stronger foundation from which to argue than confrontation. He reminded himself that he had not yet heard Rinaldo’s side of the story or his rationale for separating children from their parents. Perhaps Rinaldo truly believed he was doing good.
“Brother, I do not know the details of how our niece Ariel came to be taken from her mother or the child’s feelings about the matter, but I do know how much it distresses Javanne. As her nearest kinsmen, it is our obligation to ease her suffering. Can we not work together for her sake?”
Rinaldo protested, “Surely she understands as do the other parents—”
Blessed Cassilda, there are others?
“—it is for the children’s salvation to be properly instructed—” Rinaldo broke off at the clamor of voices and footsteps outside the door. Tiphani Lawton burst into the room without knocking. Her lips were unnaturally pale, her hair had been slicked so tightly to her skull that it appeared painted, and she wore a bizarre combination of the brown robe of a cristoforomonk and a costume from a musical entertainment. An enormous yellow stone, off-world amber, swung between her unbound breasts on a chain of copper.
“I was told—Holy saints, he isalive!” She did not look at all pleased to see Regis sitting companionably with Rinaldo.
Regis did not rise, as he would have had he encountered her as the wife of the Terran Legate. Instead, he inclined his head in her direction. “I am well, as you see.”
Rinaldo’s expression shifted to anxiety as he got to his feet. “Lady Luminosa, you lend us grace. Is anything amiss? How fares my wife and unborn son?”
“All proceeds in accordance with Divine Will,” she hastened to reply. Rinaldo’s question had broken the momentum of her entrance. “I heard—” she stumbled, recovered herself, “I felt myself summoned to Your Majesty’s presence.”
With the practice of years under his Grandfather’s tutelage, Regis suppressed his incredulity.
“Of course,” Rinaldo said warmly. “Your inspiration never fails our holy mission, even before I myself have recognized the need. Now all is made clear. My good brother here has heard slanderous tales about the new school we have established for the uplifting of moral values in our children. I was about to assure him that this strategy is not only beneficial but necessary.”
Tiphani settled herself with a lift of her chin and a smile that was more triumph than pleasure. She moved so that Regis would be forced to look up at her. Before she could draw breath to speak, however, he broke in.
“ Mestra,nothing would give me greater pleasure and edification than to listen to you, but I am here on pressing family business and have not the luxury of time. Please accept my thanks for your dedication.” Then he stood, towering over her. Instinctively, she moved back.
“I—I—” Tiphani stammered, glancing from Regis to Rinaldo. She was enough a diplomat’s wife to know when she was being dismissed. As she took her leave, she gave Regis a venomous glare. Regis responded with a neutral bow.