bowed to the inevitable and walked to the curtain. He paused there, but neither Tess nor Ilya marked his going. The healer gestured, looking a little impatient. He ducked out.
In the outer chamber sat the adopted brother and Sonia Orzhekov, faces bright with hope. 'Is it true?' Sonia demanded. 'He's awake?'
'It is true,' said Vasil, suddenly heartened that he had this vital news to impart. 'He has returned.' Like a messenger bearing good tidings, with this news he would be welcome everywhere. He smiled at Sonia and was pleased to see her smile back. He went outside.
A crowd of them had gathered here, in a semicircle beyond the awning; so quickly did rumor spread. Vasil paused to bask in their regard: not for him personally, it was true, but for what he had to tell them. Still, what did it matter? From now on, he would be associated with this auspicious moment.
'Papa!' There, isolated in one corner of the awning, sat Ilyana. She jumped to her feet and threw herself at him, and he caught her to him. He realized that he was crying from sheer joy, and he ducked his face against her blouse to wipe away the telltale tears.
'It's true,' he said more loudly. 'Bakhtiian has returned to us.'
After that, for the rest of the day at least, no one cared who he was or why Mother Sakhalin disapproved so heartily of him; no one cared about the old stories that Bakhtiian had been forced to banish him or else lose the support of the Elders for his dream of uniting the tribes. With Ilyana at his side, Vasil spread the news and luxuriated in their unreserved and ungrudging attention. He made his way back across the camp to his wife's tent, and there he set up his own little court, with Karolla and Ilyana at his side-Valentin had run off somewhere-and received visitors until it was too dark to see.
CHAPTER THIRTY-MINE
The commotion broke Diana out of an unpleasantly gratifying dream, unpleasant because, snapping awake, she reached for Anatoly to continue, only to remember that he wasn't there and that she had no idea whatsoever when he would return. It seemed to her that the longer he was gone, the more she missed him. Her hand brushed the soft leather pouch in which she stored the finery he had sent to her. Nestled in among the pillows, it was a poor substitute for him, but it had touched his hands more recently than she had, and for that reason she kept it by her.
Outside, a woman spoke in a commanding voice. 'Where is your mother?' Then, Diana realized that she knew that voice, and that Arina Veselov was asking for 'Mother' Yomi-whom the jaran had mistaken for the headwoman of the actors' tribe, just as they thought of Owen as dyan.
'Hyacinth, what in hell happened to you?' asked Quinn, outside. She received silence as her reply, except for the muffled sound of crying.
Diana dragged a tunic on over her loose striped trousers and pulled on her soft leather boots. She twisted her hair back and, with a deft flip of her hand and a silver brooch, pinned her hair up at her neck. Then she ventured outside.
To be greeted by a shocking sight: her dear friend Arina Veselov, looking like no friend now, escorting a party of red-shirted fighters who guarded a disheveled Hyacinth. A bruise was forming on Hyacinth's right cheek. Tears stained his face, and his clothes were grimy, as if he had been dragged through the dirt. Quinn stood staring, with Oriana at her back; a moment later Hal came crawling out of his tent, bleary-eyed, to gape at the scene. Gwyn ran up.
'Arina,' Diana began tentatively, but Arina merely glanced her way and shook her head fractionally, as if to say: I can't speak to you now.
So they waited. Hyacinth was still crying, but soundlessly now. He wiped his face with his sleeve. The men surrounding him did not look at him, looked anywhere but at him, but they remained aware of his presence nevertheless and alert to any move he might make to escape. The other actors arrived in ones and twos, curious, worried. Finally Owen and Ginny arrived, looking sleepy and puzzled, with Yomi and Joseph trailing behind. It was just light enough to see. Behind, in the main camp, activity already bustled at this early hour, and a fair crowd of jaran had gathered at a little distance to watch.
'Mother Yomi,' said Arina formally, inclining her head with the respect of one peer to another. 'It is my bitter task to bring this man back to you. He is no longer welcome in our camp, and perhaps will no longer be welcome in yours.' She bowed her head briefly over her folded hands. 'Although none of us will venture to interfere in how you judge this case among yourselves.'
Owen and Ginny simply watched. Yomi glanced at Owen and then replied. 'I beg your pardon, Mother Veselov, but please let us know what offense the boy has committed. He's scarcely more than a child.'
Anahita tittered. Quinn slapped her on the arm, looking outraged.
'How dare you!' shrieked Anahita, tossing her black curls back away from her face.
'Anahita,' said Gwyn in a low voice. 'Shut up, or leave.'
Anahita went red in the face. With a snort of anger, she walked away. But no one laughed at her discomposure. Hyacinth fell silent.
Arina Veselov looked grave. She looked so impossibly tiny, standing there with the weight of her authority on her, and yet she carried an air of implacability with her. Her chin quivered, and she set her mouth in a thin line, then spoke. 'In the days before day existed, Mother Sun and Father Wind talked together, Aunt Cloud and Uncle Moon talked together, and from this congress came children. So did they, the gods, decree that when a girl becomes a woman, when a boy becomes a man, so will they talk together, that from such congress will come children. And so did the tents of the jaran grow from one tent to many tents, and the tribes of the jaran from ten tribes to a hundred hundred tribes. But this one-' She opened a hand, palm out, to indicate Hyacinth. '-has turned his face away from the gods' decree. Thus must we, in our turn, turn our face away from him.'
Quinn had sidled up next to Diana, and Diana felt that Gwyn had moved up behind her, like a shield at her back. Hal glowered at the jaran. Yomi looked perplexed, and for once, Owen appeared to be perfectly alert, absorbing every word.
'I don't understand,' whispered Quinn. 'What does that mean? What did he do?'
'I thought,' said Gwyn in an undertone, 'that Hyacinth was being discreet.'
Yomi sighed and stepped forward to extend a hand toward Hyacinth, but he ignored her. 'Mother Veselov, I'm still not sure I understand what you are trying to say.'
Arina set her lips even tighter, as if the entire conversation were distasteful to her. She glanced back once at Hyacinth and then at one of the men standing guard-her brother Anton, Diana realized. 'I beg your pardon for bringing such news to you, Mother Yomi. He was found consorting with another man.'
'And?' Yomi asked, waiting for the explanation of the crime that had evidently followed this discovery.
Arina stared blankly at her. Yomi stared blankly back.
Diana took one step forward. 'Yomi,' she said softly in Anglais, 'I think she's trying to tell you that same-sex partnerships aren't-ah-tolerated here, and certainly not when they become public.'
Owen swore loudly. Yomi hastened forward and took Hyacinth firmly by one elbow, dragging him away from his jaran escort. 'Mother Veselov,' she said briskly, 'I thank you for bringing this boy back here. Now we will speak with him.'
It was a dismissal. Arina recognized it. She nodded, apologized again for the unseemly episode, and retreated, ruthlessly dispersing the distant crowd as she went.
'You damned fool,' said Owen.
'Oh, hell,' murmured Gwyn. 'He's going to lose his temper and antagonize Hyacinth at the same time.'
'Have you no self-control?' Owen demanded. 'I thought I admitted only professionals to my troupe, but now I see that I've made an exception. Clearly you can't think any farther than your genitals extend.'
Hyacinth burst into tears. He gulped out words that no one could make sense of, strangled in sobs.
'Owen,' said Ginny quietly, going over to put an arm around Hyacinth. 'Perhaps we'd have better luck in a softer and more private discussion of what happened.'
But Owen was in a white rage by now. 'I wash my hands of him!' He stalked off.
'Yes, let's discuss this in private,' said Yomi. 'Ginny? Joseph?' She glanced up. 'Gwyn and Diana, you, too.
