Read Online The Dagger and the Cross by Judith Tarr - Free Book Online

sullied,
whatever men may call him.”
    There was faith as pure as any saint’s. They gave it a
moment’s silence. Then, with a squawk, Raihan dived toward the goat. It
surrendered its great sodden mouthful and resumed its exploration of the pond.
    Raihan looked in dismay at the tattered remnants of his
turban. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he laughed. It was amazing laughter, rich and
full and direly infectious. He was still laughing as he bowed to her—in western
fashion this time, with a prince’s grace—and walked away, with the goat
scampering at his heels.
    o0o
    Ysabel got her ride after all, with everyone in the house
who was minded to go, and that was most of them, except for Mother, who was too
big with the new baby, and Grandmother, who never rode if she could help it.
Gwydion was no better in cities than Aidan was, though he was quieter about it.
Once he had his bath and heard mass in St. Perpetua’s and ate as much as his
kind would ever eat, they all fetched their horses and went in search of clean
air.
    Aimery was conspicuously not speaking to her. She refused to
pay attention. Her mare was new, a gift from her uncle and his lady, and fine:
Arab-bred, and fiery enough to make Joanna intensely nervous whenever Ysabel
rode her. Ysabel was inordinately proud of her. She could keep up easily with
Aidan’s gelding; she loved to arch her neck and flag her tail and dance. People
stared as she went by.
    That was not all there was to stare at. They were all in
riding clothes, nothing splendid except for the odd idiot who thought one went
hunting in silk, but there was a small army of them, and Aidan’s mamluks with
them, and Morgiana playing the eunuch again. Ranulf had a brace of hounds; some
of the others had falcons. The Turks had their bows. There would be meat for
the pot tonight, and some pleasure in the getting of it.
    It was almost impossible to tell Gwydion and Aidan apart
without looking inside. They were both in hunting green, and both riding tall
greys, and both sparking with delight in the ride and the company. Aidan smiled
more, that was all, and Gwydion almost never laughed, except with his eyes.
Most people gave up trying to decide which was which, and addressed them both
at once.
    o0o
    Morgiana knew, deeply and surely, which was her lover and
which his brother. It was strange, dizzying, to see Aidan whole. What she had
thought was all of him was only that part of him which was not Gwydion. And yet
he was not diminished, nor subsumed into that other self. He was brighter,
stronger, more truly himself than she had ever seen him.
    She was not jealous, she decided, riding behind them,
watching them together. Whether she liked Gwydion, or disliked him, or was
indifferent to him...that needed time and reflection. That beloved face, that
body which she knew in every line and angle, though doubled, was only one to
her, the one with Aidan’s soul beneath it. The other was a stranger.
    A courteous one, to be sure, and quite unperturbed by either
her faith or her history. Aidan had that gift, too, of accepting a creature for
itself, without heed for what the world might say of it.
    “But of course,” Gwydion said, falling back beside her as
Aidan sprang in pursuit of a roebuck. “We aren’t human, to succumb to human
divisions. We have to make our own.”
    The hunt passed them and left them behind. They slowed to a
walk, to the disgust of Morgiana’s stallion; but he eyed Gwydion’s mare and
decided that, all in all, he preferred to linger. She kept a light firm rein,
letting him dance as he pleased, but holding him well in hand.
    “A fine horse,” Gwydion said.
    “He comes from Egypt,” she said. “They breed good horses
there; though they prize mares over stallions. This one sires fine foals.
Ysabel’s mare is one of his.”
    “I could see,” he said. “Both bays, with the star on the
forehead. And the head, it is distinctive.”
    “That is the Arabian head. The large eye, see, set well