Page 64 of Sword Dance

“Right,” said Aradne. “I wondered. Good man,” she added to Damiskos. “Thoughtful of you.”

Damiskos smiled, because this formidable woman’s approval actually did mean something to him, but he couldn’t really feel it just then. He was too winded by Varazda’s “no,” the speed and obvious sincerity of it, the way his lovely eyes had widened a little to emphasize its definitiveness. Varazda hadn’t actually laughed or said, “My God, never!” but Damiskos couldn’t help thinking it might have been easier if he had. At least then it might have been possible to feel angry about it rather than just stupidly bludgeoned.

* * *

It promised to be a long day. There was little that they could do, but they must remain on their guard against another incursion from the villa, and keeping up morale would be crucial. Damiskos advised Nione to tell the women that they could go out onto the beach so long as they remained ready to run back into the fortifications at the first sign of any approach. The sight-lines along the beach toward the villa were excellent, but Damiskos arranged sentries all the same. He set another group to watch for anyone approaching from the steep wooded hillside above the beach huts, though it was unlikely anyone could get down that way. They gathered up the stones they had thrown the night before and made neat piles of them before sitting down to breakfast.

“Everyone wants to bathe,” Aradne told Damiskos. “Do you think it’s all right?”

“So long as they go out a few at a time and keep an eye out for trouble. I’ll, er, make myself scarce in the meantime. To give them some privacy.”

“Good man. Suppose Pharastes can stay, though. Somebody said he’s a whatyoucall, a eunuch?”

“Uh, yes, that’s right.”

“Huh. So that’s your thing. You like eunuchs.”

“What? No. Not—not as such.”

“But you like him. Don’t try to lie—I saw it. You flinched when I asked whether you were a couple and he said ’no.’”

“Did I?”

“You did. I don’t think he noticed, though.” After a moment she clapped Damiskos on the shoulder and said, “Poor bastard. I was sorry to do that to you. Wouldn’t have said anything if I’d known.”

He took himself down the beach to the other side of the factory, only noticing after he had set off that Varazda had followed him. He hoped it wasn’t with an eye to any kind of sex, because he felt like he had been ridden over by a cavalry unit and its baggage train, and his hair and tunic, cursorily washed in the ocean, still smelled faintly of fish sauce. Besides, he was still smarting from that “no.”

Then it occurred to him that Varazda was doing the same thing he was doing—leaving the women alone to bathe—because Varazda had spent the last seven years in Boukos living as a man, and probably no longer thought of himself as entitled into women’s private spaces.

Damiskos stopped, feeling mortified, to let Varazda catch up to him.

“Wait for me!” Varazda said cheerily as he did catch up. “Did you think I was going to bathe with the women?”

Terza’s head. This was presumably part of why Varazda had been recruited as a spy. Nothing escaped him.

“I thought you might,” Damiskos admitted. “I’m sure they’re better company. I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Varazda shrugged. “As these assumptions go, that’s not a bad one.”

They continued walking at an easy pace. Damiskos thought for a moment, then said, “You mean because I know you’re not interested in gawking at naked women—”

“And don’t hold it against me … ”

“Far from it. Works out in my favour, really. So all I was assuming was that you might take advantage of your, um … status … to stay on that end of the beach with the rest of our party instead of trudging down to this end with me. And that’s not particularly insulting. Whereas if we’d been going to, say, the Civil Palace in Pheme, where only men are allowed in, and I assumed you would stay outside, that would be insulting.”

“Honestly? Yes, I’d probably take offence at that, but as to whether I would intend going in or not in the first place? It depends on the day, or the mood I’m in, or who I’m with. I never really think of myself as a man, but most of the time I’m quite happy for other people to think of me that way.”

“I see.”

Varazda gave him an arch look. “Do you?”

“Look, I’m giving it an effort, you insufferable fellow. I don’t know what more you want.”

That got another unguardedly boyish laugh out of Varazda. Damiskos had never been much for teasing his lovers—wouldn’t even have said it was something he felt comfortable doing—but as with everything, Varazda was an exception.

They rounded the corner of the factory and came to an open stretch of beach from which they could see the steps up to the villa but not the beach houses or the water where the women would be bathing. Damiskos craned his neck and squinted against the sun to satisfy himself that there was no sign of movement on the stairs or the cliff above.

“I don’t think I’ve ever bathed with anyone I’ve slept with before,” Varazda remarked. “Is there any etiquette about it?”