"If these are the fruits of restlessness, may I never repose again," said the Parsi with strong emotion. "I long to emulate him, to learn from him." He glanced around the splendid room again. "He lives as well as a Prince in this house."
Rogerian chuckled. "I know he would be honored by your attention."
"If only he were here," Rustam Iniattir added somberly.
"He will return, in time," said Rogerian.
"May your hopes be swiftly rewarded," said Rustam Iniattir. "He has far to travel."
"It is not the first time," Rogerian remarked.
"Ah, yes; he is an exile, even here," said Rustam Iniattir, pulling thoughtfully at his short-trimmed beard.
"His homeland fell to his foes many years ago, and he has been about the world since then," Rogerian told him, saying nothing of the thirty-four centuries Sanat Ji Mani had gone wandering. "Occasionally he returns there, but he never stays long."
"It is undoubtedly dangerous for him to do so," said the Parsi merchant, sighing. "I and those of my House know how it is to be shut away from home."
"Many have lost their homelands," said Rogerian. "I have not visited Gades— my native city— for a great many years."
"Are you also an exile?" Rustam Iniattir asked, mildly surprised.
"No," said Rogerian, and rose to go to the side-door where the under-steward and the senior cook waited, trays in hand. "Thank you," he said as he took the trays and brought them to the table at the far end of the divan on which Rustam Iniattir sat. "Your refreshments: figs, yoghurt, bread, and olive oil." He set the trays down. "I will bring you water or wine, as you wish."
"Wine is somewhat rare in this place," said Rustam Iniattir. "The Muslims do not drink it, and many will not sell it, either."
"That is their way; it is not Sanat Ji Mani's— he will provide his guests with the best he has to offer. The wine in this house is very good. It is from vineyards in Italy," said Rogerian, and did not mention that Sanat Ji Mani owned the vineyards.
"How splendid," said Rustam Iniattir, shifting in his seat to avail himself of the light repast. "Even absent, your master is an exceptional host."
"Enjoy your food, and with a good appetite," said Rogerian.
"That I will. And I will have some of the Italian wine, if you will bring it. I do not believe I have ever tasted any." He smiled quickly and broke off a section of bread, then dipped it in the bowl of olive oil.
Rogerian left Rustam Iniattir alone in the reception room and went along to the pantry at the side of the cavernous kitchen. There he took a bottle from the rack that held thirty of them, brushed the dust off, removed the sealing-wax from the bottle, and unstopped it. Selecting a cup of Venetian glass from the cupboard, he took them back to the reception room where he found his guest devouring the last of the figs. "I took the liberty of choosing a wine I thought you would like."
Rustam Iniattir looked up from the tray. "I am filled with anticipation; if the wine is of as high a quality as everything else in this house, I know I will be delighted," he said, an eager light in his eyes. "I have had the wine of Syria, and found it strong."
"This may be somewhat different, coming as it does from another land," said Rogerian as he poured the red fluid into the cup; he held it out to Rustam Iniattir, saying, "I am told this is a good example of what the vines produce."
Rustam Iniattir took the cup and drank, holding the wine in his mouth before swallowing. "Excellent," he approved. "I am most impressed."
"Then you may have three bottles to take with you when you go," said Rogerian, knowing it was what Sanat Ji Mani would do. "You said you would like to extend your trading; what have you in mind?"
Now that the intended purpose of his visit was before him, Rustam Iniattir faltered. "It probably will not seem much to a man with such extensive activities as your master has; it may be so minor an opportunity that it will not be worthwhile." He took a deep breath. "I thought that there might be some way to enter into a shared trading venture, something that would benefit us both," he said, a bit uncertainly. "I did not know that Sanat Ji Mani had so many ships, or traded so widely."
"Yes, he has ships," said Rogerian when Rustam Iniattir did not go on.
"I had thought he would be willing to do with ships as we have done with caravans," he said it without much emphasis, as if the finery of the house was intimidating him. "I also hoped he would be here: Sanat Ji Mani."
"I am authorized to act in his name, if that is what concerns you," said Rogerian. "I can make a contract that my master will honor."
Rustam Iniattir took another sip of wine. "It is not that I doubt you," he said as he put the cup down. "But the current circumstances are awkward, with your master being missing. You will agree that they are, will you not?"
"I agree they could be so construed," said Rogerian, watching Rustam Iniattir more closely than the Parsi merchant realized.
"Yes." He wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. "Yes. I cannot think that it would be entirely correct to make such a contract, not until it is known if your master is… returning."
"You mean until we know if he is still alive," Rogerian corrected him gently.
Rustam Iniattir took more wine to cover his confusion. "You know Delhi was sacked and pillaged. Many were taken prisoner and many others were killed. How can you be sure that he escaped that slaughter?" Now that he had said it, he was appalled at himself; he stared at Rogerian as if expecting a rebuke.
"I am not sure," said Rogerian with a calm that made Rustam Iniattir more uneasy than before. "Yet I trust that he has won through." He did not add that Olivia had warranted to him that Sanct' Germain had not died the True Death, for that would require explanations he did not want to provide.
"What of the woman: Avasa Dani?" Rustam Iniattir asked suddenly.
"She has established a household of her own," said Rogerian, adding nothing more about the place.
"Ah. Just as well. With Sanat Ji Mani gone, her presence here could be misinterpreted." He gave a slow nod. "She must be eager for your master's return. A fortunate thing that fever spared her, in the end."
"She has asked when he might be expected," Rogerian said.
"A prudent question from a sensible woman. How long will you wait?" Rustam Iniattir asked, drinking the last of the wine in his cup.
"Ten years is what my master has stipulated in his Will," said Rogerian, still unflustered. "I must do my utmost to keep his affairs in order against his return, and that includes making contracts with merchants."
"I…" Rustam Iniattir hesitated and tried again, "I will have to consider my position before I say anything more."
"As you wish," Rogerian responded. "I know my master would welcome more dealings with you; your caravan endeavor has been most successful."
"And I would welcome an expansion of what we have done," said Rustam Iniattir. "But if Sanat Ji Mani remains missing, how are we to conduct business?" He sat back on the divan and mulled over the possibilities. "You may have the right to do business in your master's name, but how can you be certain he will approve what you have done? And if he does not approve, what will I be left with?"
"I cannot be completely certain; he always has in the past," Roger ian remarked. "I can offer only that assurance to you, and the pledge of the captains of his ships that they will abide by my orders in Sanat Ji Mani's absence."
"This is most difficult," said Rustam Iniattir, more to himself than to Rogerian.
"It may be," Rogerian agreed. "Still, it is the best we can make of an indeterminate situation; as long as he is missing and his fate unknown, I will look after his concerns, as he has charged me to do. If you decide you would prefer to deal with other ship-owners, I will see that you meet them, so that you can continue your business."
This surprised Rustam Iniattir. "Why would you do that, if it would put money in other men's pockets?"
"My master would still have his original contracts with you, so that if you prosper, he prospers," Rogerian explained. "It would avail him nothing to see your expansion thwarted."
Rustam Iniattir shook his head, perplexed. "Might I have a little more of that wine?" he asked, as much to gain a little time for thought as to have another taste of it.
"Of course," said Rogerian, and went to fill his cup. "It warms the heart on a chilly day."
"That it does," said Rustam Iniattir, and drank. As he wiped his mouth, he said, "In Delhi, I was a religious man; I kept the rites of my faith, and I was satisfied that Ormazd would triumph over Ahriman. Then I would have given some of this wine for Ormazd and the power of Light, with water for the world, as Zarathustra taught. But for the last year, I have not kept to the teaching as a pious man should."
"The last year has been a difficult one," said Rogerian.
"I fear it may have weakened my devotion." He said it as if confessing to a shameful secret.
"With what has transpired, that would not distress me," said Rogerian. "You have come through very difficult times, and many men's beliefs are changed during hard going."
"But my lack of trust may—" He stopped, trying to keep from saying more.
"Are you afraid you have put Sanat Ji Mani in danger because you no longer pray as you did at Delhi?" Rogerian guessed aloud.
There were tears standing in Rustam Iniattir's eyes. "Yes," he admitted, and lowered his head.
Rogerian sensed that he would have to go carefully with Rustam Iniattir. "Why should your gods protect Sanat Ji Mani when his own gods may have failed him?"
"But those are
false
gods, and Ahriman is mighty," said Rustam Iniattir. "Darkness rules this cycle, and without the devotion of the followers of Zarathustra, all hope will fade from the world."
"That is a bleak outlook," said Rogerian, "and a terrible responsibility for you to hold."
"Yes, it is," said Rustam Iniattir, and drank more wine. "I have never been to the caves in Persia where our faith was founded. I
have never been to Persia. But I should have made a temple or founded a cave to worship in. I have money enough." He could not bring himself to look up.
"You also are in the land of the Mamelukes, and they might not readily accept your worship. They are willing to allow the Peoples of the Book to worship here, but you are not of their number." Rogerian waited while Rustam Iniattir thought about this. "To have you fined, imprisoned, or exiled would not be useful to you, or to Sanat Ji Mani. Perhaps your reticence is a gift from your Ormazd, to preserve you in this place."
"But if I lack faith, I am one with Ahriman," said Rustam Iniattir miserably. "I am part of the Darkness that is this cycle."
Rogerian thought about his own faded beliefs, and said, "If Ormazd is just and virtuous, he will not disdain what you have done; he will understand that the cycle was at work, not your lack of faith."
"But in this cycle it is most important for those who know the Light to serve it more zealously than when—" He drank the last of the wine. "If I cannot sustain my religion when I have been spared, what price will the world have to pay for my lapse?"
Rogerian did not quite laugh; he bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from doing so. When he could trust himself to maintain the gravity Rustam Iniattir's distress surely deserved, he said, "Is that it? You are abashed because you have not suffered more?" He saw the Parsi's slight nod. "What would your misery do to help my master? or the world, for that matter?"
"I have not deserved preservation," said Rustam Iniattir.
"Who among us does?" Rogerian asked. "This world is an aleatory place; some flourish who are despicable, some languish who are worthy of highest esteem."
"Because this is a cycle of Darkness," said Rustam Iniattir staunchly, trying to recover himself.
"Light or Dark, the meaning of it— if there is any— is beyond our understanding," said Rogerian. "And the gods, whatever they are, must know this and make allowances for it."
Rustam Iniattir sat very still. "I have failed my religion," he said as if pronouncing sentence.
"In time you may return to your trust in it," said Rogerian, aware that his guest was feeling the wine as much as remorse.
"I must hope I will," said the Parsi merchant. "There is so much to lose."
Rogerian wanted to assure Rustam Iniattir that he would not be held accountable for the fate of the world, but knew it would be useless to talk with him now; he bowed again, Roman fashion, and said, "If you would like to avail yourself of a moment alone, to think and to rest, I will be pleased to escort you to a chamber where you can withdraw and be alone with your thoughts. My master would extend the same opportunity to you, were he here."
Rustam Iniattir nodded. "I had not meant… My outburst was uncalled-for." He got to his feet a bit unsteadily. "You are right: an hour or so to clear my mind would be most welcome."
