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Pietro managed a crooked smile. “It is not to escapeyouthat I need to make the trip.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me the reason, though.”
Pietro sighed silently, because Stollo was right. Pietro had become a distrustful, secretive man who never told anyone anything. “Maybe once I get back.” Because by that point, it might not matter.
“When do you plan to leave?”
“As soon as I can find a boat to hire.”
Still lying on his back, Stollo turned his head to look at Pietro, who lay propped up on his elbow, gazing down at the other man.My lover,Pietro thought, savoring the simple syllables. He had resigned himself to never having reason to speak the words again.
Stollo said, “Should I ask my cousin?”
“Who?”
“My cousin Danner. I mentioned him a couple months back. He runs a boat out of Corcannon harbor.”
Pietro remembered. “Do you think he’d take me?”
“If he doesn’t have another job lined up, I can’t see why he wouldn’t.”
“Would you introduce me to him? Vouch for my character?”
Stollo poked him playfully in the ribs. “I don’t know how I could do that, since I’ve never known a man who waslessforthcoming than you. I scarcely know a thing about you.”
“Then you’ve shown remarkable lack of judgment by climbing into my bed.”
“I’m impulsive,” Stollo agreed. “Careless. Someday I’ll reap the consequences.”
Pietro flattened his hand over Stollo’s chest, which was pleasingly muscular and covered with sleek dark hair. “Don’t say that,” he replied, troubled. “I hate to think of anything bad happening to you.”
Stollo placed his own hand over Pietro’s. “I was joking,” he said. “I’m not as rash as all that. And I’m certainly not afraid thatyouwill be the one to harm me.”
“I hope not.” Pietro dropped down so the back of his head hit the pillow, and stared up through the darkness. It must be close to midnight, but they had left the curtains open, and faint lights from the street played through the window. He could almost make out the spot where the vertical walls joined the flat horizontal plane of the ceiling. But mostly everything in the room was in murky shadow.
Just like everything in his life.
“I neverwantto do harm,” Pietro said slowly. “But I think I’ve inflicted my share nevertheless.”
“We all have,” Stollo said. “If a man walks through a meadow, he crushes flowers underfoot, but that doesn’t mean he is cruel. Just by moving through life, you crash into other people. As they crash into you.”
“So intent is all that matters?”
“Intent is half of it. The other half is what you do to make reparation.”
“Well, there I’m not so sure I’m absolved, either.”
“You’re in a bleak humor tonight,” Stollo observed.
“I’ve been in a bleak humor for ten years,” Pietro said. “Sometimes I’m able to hide it better.”
“And you think a visit to the ruined lands will lift your spirits? I’m inclined to think the opposite is true.” Now Stollo lifted his head. “Unless you consider that the perfect place to seek your own destruction. In which case, I willnotintroduce you to my cousin after all.”
Pietro’s smile was small and bitter. “No. I’d have done it years ago if that was my plan. I’m going with a probably doomed hope of discovering—something. I don’t even know what.”
“Is it a journey you have to make alone?”
“What? No. I need the ship’s captain, of course.”
