Chapter 12

Vaysh poured himself a second drink. "Another?" he asked, looking over to Apollo, who apparently had been staring at his back. When his guest nodded affably, Vaysh sighed inwardly and went over to take his glass for a refill.

"Thanks for everything," Apollo said, as Vaysh poured out more liqueur. "Meeting you made getting into the palace a lot easier."

Silently Vaysh handed Apollo his drink and lowered himself into the chair opposite. "What would you have done otherwise?" he asked.

"Probably managed some other, more conventional way," Apollo admitted ruefully. "Our work in the past has won us some allies and through them we hoped to gain contacts into the palace and with that, an introduction at court, where hopefully we would have been believed and gained the audience we desired. Barring that, I considered possibly taking off my scarf and marching towards the palace bellowing 'Out of my way, I'm back!'"

Apollo grinned and smiled into his drink. "Sorry, bad joke. Let's just say that despite precautions, you're not the first one to mistake me for my father."

"I'm sure not," Vaysh replied. Inside, he felt another swell of sympathy for this obviously burdened younger har.

"So," Apollo began, switching gears suddenly, "what do you for fun around here? I mean, just in general, here in Immanion,"

Vaysh shrugged. "Do for fun? It's a city -- I suppose most cities are the same. Personally I don't..." he hesitated, again not wanting to talk too much about himself, "well, I don't have the leisure of some other hara. If there's anything I particularly do for fun, it's shopping in the marketplace. I enjoy watching the crowds."

Apollo smiled. "Ah, of course -- how you must have spotted me."

Vaysh was startled when a nervous laugh escaped his own lips. "Exactly. I heard you talk to the vendor at the pomade stand, of all places."

Apollo set down his drink. "And that made you follow me?"

"I heard you mentioning Thiede, yes," Vaysh admitted. "It piqued my interest. Then I--" he stopped. Apollo was sitting across from him, listening intently. It wasn't only the undivided attention that suddenly threw him off. It was the eyes.

"Then?" Apollo prompted softly.

"Then you turned and I saw your eyes." As he paused, a strange feeling was coming over Vaysh, one he hadn't felt in a long time. Was he actually flirting with someone? He certainly hadn't meant to. "They were quite striking and drew me in," Vaysh added quickly. Maybe if he spoke quickly enough he wouldn't be heard.

"Moon's always said my eyes are my best feature," Apollo mused. "Guess he was right. It's strange, Vaysh, what you say about being drawn in, because I've felt the same way, ever since we found you collapsed in the yard."

"You probably were drawn to run over and laugh at me." Vaysh was growing ever more nervous, but it seemed out of his power to put an end to the dialogue. "Startled by a couple of doves flapping out of the bushes!"

Apollo laughed, but only softly, not in ridicule. "No, I understand -- I think. You really did think I was Thiede, didn't you?"

Vaysh froze. That name, repeated just once, suddenly slammed down before him, like a great iron first. "Yes," he admitted weakly.

"Well, I'm not. Remember that." Before Vaysh could recover himself, Apollo was on his feet. "Thanks for the drinks. Now I'm off to join my hosting. Goodnight." With a formal wave, a slight bow and a lingering gaze, he disappeared out the door.

As the door closed, Vaysh was faced with two options: Remain seated on the sofa in shock or distract himself. Glancing down to the glass in his hand, he chose the latter option. The bottle, still standing on the drinking cabinet, was just about empty -- or would be soon. Three or four glasses would take care of it, which was quite convenient, for that was exactly what Vaysh felt he needed.

Measuring out the first dose, Vaysh thought, "Was it the alcohol?" Logically he knew it couldn't have been for he'd barely drunk two glasses. The harish constitution, coupled with his own acquired tolerance for alcohol, would never allow such an impairment after so little. Still, he wanted to believe that somehow his system had been thrown off.

Surely some explanation was in order. He'd been feeling good that afternoon in the marketplace, alive, like he was thawing out. Every day it seemed he was getting just a little bit more relaxed, breathing just a little bit easier. It had taken months for the change to take place, as if he'd crawled out into the open after years of hiding beneath the great shadow that was Thiede. He had been made to be wary, defensive, and harsh. Over the months, he'd learned that these were tools which might not be so necessary.

He had lowered his weapons, so to speak, and then just at that moment, his eyes spotted something that brought the terror back. It had gotten better once he had learned Apollo's true identity, that he was not Thiede, but all the same, Vaysh's instincts had risen to the fore. He'd been remarkably composed all things considered. He'd handled it well -- indeed so well that it seemed Thiede's son was "drawn" to him. Attracted. Interested enough to even say so.

Vaysh's world had turned upside down, despite the third glass, the fourth glass, the fifth glass. The scenery had changed. So had the characters. Had he really allowed himself to think about another har in that way? He had entertained another har's interest without swatting him away, without the cold wall of ice. He had panicked, true, but he'd let it happen. It was the other who had run away and when that had happened, Vaysh hadn't even felt the usual relief. He felt disappointed.

Part of him wanted to quash the entire situation, but another part of him was insisting in the opposite direction. It was the part of Vaysh that had not exercised such desires in years.

He'd watched the crowds go by in the marketplace, but he'd never become fascinated with any one har. Perhaps no har had really struck him or maybe he'd never allowed himself to be struck.

This was different. "Fascination" didn't begin to describe what he'd felt in those last few moments with Apollo in the room. It was a feeling that had been building all along, but he hadn't been paying it attention until it danced wildly onto the stage, conspicuous and unavoidable. What he'd felt was exhilaration, the romantic zing of attraction when one finally realizes that yes, that's it!

Nevertheless, there was still the matter of Thiede. It was madness! Thiede's son? A completely different har, Apollo was, but he was his father's son and the likeness was incredible. Had he been attracted to Thiede? The alcohol beginning to have some actual effect, Vaysh was able to admit that indeed he had been. Of course, everybody had been -- despite the fear, the incredulity, the confusion (what was he, who was he, where did he come from?), and everything else that had made Thiede a figure almost of myth. Beauty, yes, he'd had it.

Thiede hadn't been someone to actually like, however, and certainly not love. Vaysh surely didn't and for reasons that were as obvious as they were varied, plus a few that were not so obvious. He'd never told anyone the true whole story, not even Pell. Suffice it to say, Thiede's beauty had never been able to overcome his lack of empathy or the wrongs he had perpetrated against Vaysh and others.

Apollo was different. He was, as he'd put it himself, not Thiede.

He was so close. Only a room or two away.

The bottle was empty. Perhaps he could go knock? No, too late. It was time for bed.

Vaysh sighed and put the bottles and glasses on the table in the center of the room so that a servant would take it away in the morning.

Walking down the hall to his own bedroom, Vaysh didn't know which emotion held more sway: fear or longing. He suspected the two would do battle in his sleep. Leave it for the next day to determine the victor.