Pug suppressed a groan and sat back with his eyes closed. Slowly shaking his head, he said, ‘Very well. I’m sorry. Please, what do you want me to do?’
She patted the pallet next to her. ‘Come, sit here.’
He complied, trying to ignore the feeling that his fate – an abruptly short life – was being decided by this capricious girl. He landed rather than sat beside her. She giggled at the groan he made. ‘You got drunk! What’s it like?’
‘At this moment, not terribly entertaining. I feel like a used kitchen rag.’
She tried to look sympathetic, but her blue eyes sparkled with mirth. With a theatrical pout, she said, ‘You boys get to do all the interesting things, like sword work and archery. Being a proper lady can be such a bore. Father would have a fit if I should ever drink more than a cup of watered wine with supper.’
With rising desperation in his voice, Pug said, ‘Nothing compared to the fit he will have if you’re found here. Carline, why did you come here?’
She ignored the question. ‘What were you and Roland doing this afternoon, fighting?’ He nodded. ‘Over me?’ she asked, a glimmer in her eyes.
Pug sighed. ‘Yes, over you.’ Her pleased look at the reply nettled him, and irritation crept into his voice. ‘Carline, you’ve used him rather badly.’
‘He’s a spineless idiot!’ she snapped back. ‘If I asked him to jump off the wall, he’d do it.’
‘Carline,’ Pug nearly whined, ‘why have—’
His question was cut off as she leaned forward and covered his mouth with her own. The kiss was one-sided, for Pug was too stunned to respond. She quickly sat back, leaving him agape, and she said, ‘Well?’
Lacking any original response, Pug said, ‘What?’
Her eyes flashed. ‘The kiss, you simpleton.’
‘Oh!’ said Pug, still in shock. ‘It was . . . nice.’
She rose and looked down on him, her eyes widening with mixed anger and embarrassment. She crossed her arms and stood tapping her foot, making a sound like summer hail striking the window shutters. Her tone was low and harsh. ‘Nice! Is that all you have to say?’
Pug watched her, a variety of conflicting emotions surging inside. At this moment panic was contesting with a nearly painful awareness of how lovely she looked in the dim lantern light, her features alive and animated, her dark hair loose around her face, and the thin shift pulled tight across her bosom by her crossed arms. His own confusion made his pose seem unintentionally casual, which further fueled her petulance. ‘You’re the first man – not counting Father and my brothers – I’ve ever kissed, and all you can say is “nice.”’
Pug was unable to recover. Still awash with tumultuous emotions, he blurted, ‘Very nice.’
She placed her hands upon her hips – which pulled her nightdress in disturbing new directions and stood looking down on him with an expression of open disbelief. In controlled tones she said, ‘I come here and throw myself at you. I risk getting myself banished to a convent for life!’ Pug noticed she failed to mention his possible fate. ‘Every other boy – and not a slight number of the older nobles – in the West fall over themselves to get my attention. And all you do is treat me like some common kitchen drudge, a passing amusement for the young lord.’
Pug’s wits returned, less of their own accord than from the realization that Carline was arguing her case a little more emphatically than was warranted. Suddenly struck with the insight that there was a fair bit of dramatics mixed in with her genuine irritation, he said, ‘Carline, wait. Give me a moment.’
‘A moment! I’ve given you weeks. I thought . . . well, I thought we had an understanding.’
Pug tried to look sympathetic, as his mind raced. ‘Sit down, please. Let me try to explain.’
She hesitated, then returned to sit next to him. Somewhat clumsily he took her hands in his own. Instantly he was struck by the nearness of the girl, her warmth, the smell of her hair and skin. The feelings of desire he had felt on the bluffs returned with stunning impact, and he had to fight to keep his mind upon what he wished to say.
Forcing his thoughts away from the hot surge he experienced, he said, ‘Carline, I do care for you. A great deal. Sometimes I even think I love you as much as Roland does, but most of the time I only get confused when you’re around. That’s the problem: there’s so much confusion inside of me. I don’t understand what it is I feel most of the time.’
Her eyes narrowed, for this obviously wasn’t the answer she expected. Her tone was sharp as she said, ‘I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never known a boy so caught up in understanding things.’
Pug managed to force a smile. ‘Magicians are trained to seek explanations. Understanding things is very important to us.’ He saw a flicker of comprehension in her eyes at this and pressed on. ‘I have two offices now, both new to me. I may not become a magician, in spite of Kulgan’s attempts to make me one, for I have trouble with a lot of my work. I don’t really avoid you, you see, but with this trouble I have, I must spend as much time with my studies as I can.’
Seeing his explanation was gaining little sympathy, he changed tactics. ‘In any event, I have little time to consider my other office. I may end up another noble of your father’s court, running my estates – small though they might be – caring for my tenants, answering calls to arms, and the rest. But I can’t even think of that until I resolve this other matter, my studies of magic. I must keep trying until I’m satisfied I made the wrong choice. Or until Kulgan dismisses me,’ he added quietly.
He stopped and studied her face. Her large blue eyes watched him intently. ‘Magicians are of little consequence in the Kingdom. I mean, should I become a master magician . . . Well, could you see yourself married to a magician, whatever his rank?’
She looked slightly alarmed. Quickly she leaned over and kissed him again, rupturing his already frayed composure. ‘Poor Pug,’ she said, pulling away a little. Her soft voice rang sweetly to his ears. ‘You don’t have to be. A magician, I mean. You have land and title, and I know Father could arrange others when the time was right.’
‘It’s not a question of what I want, don’t you see? It’s a question of what I am. Part of the problem may be I haven’t truly given myself over to my work. Kulgan took me for his apprentice as much from pity as need, you know. And in spite of what he and Tully have said, I’ve never been really convinced I was especially talented. But perhaps I need to dedicate myself, commit myself to becoming a magician.’ He took a breath. ‘How can I do that if I’m concerning myself with my estates and offices? Or gaining new ones?’ He paused. ‘Or you?’
Carline bit her lower lip slightly, and Pug fought down the urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. He had no doubt that once he did that, matters would quickly be beyond his control. No girl in his limited experience, even the prettier ones in the town, aroused such strong feelings in him.
Lowering her lashes a little as she looked down, she softly said, ‘I’ll do whatever you say, Pug.’ Pug felt relief for a moment, then the full impact of what she had just said hit him. Oh, gods! he thought. No magician’s trick could keep him focused in the face of youthful passion. He frantically sought some way to drive desire from him and then thought of her father. Instantly an image of a scowling Duke of Crydee standing before the hangman’s gibbet banished most of his lust.
Taking a deep breath, Pug said, ‘In my own way, I do love you, Carline.’ Her face came aglow, and forfending disaster, he plunged on. ‘But I think I should try to find out about myself before I try to make up my mind about the rest.’ His concentration was sorely tested as the girl seemed to ignore his remarks, being busy kissing his face.
Then she stopped and sat back. Her happy expression faded into one of thoughtfulness as her natural intelligence overrode her childish need to get everything she wanted. Comprehension came into her eyes as he said, ‘If I chose now, Carline, I might always doubt the choice. Would you want to face the possibility I would come to resent you for the choice I made?’
She said nothing for a while, then quietly said, ‘No. I don’t think I could stand that, Pug.’
He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt tension drain away. Suddenly the room seemed cold, and both of them shivered. Carline gripped his hands tight, with surprising strength. She mustered a smile and said, with forced calm, ‘I understand, Pug.’ She took a long breath, then softly added, ‘That’s why I think I love you. You could never be false with anyone. Least of all with yourself.’
‘Or you, Carline.’ Her eyes grew moist, but she maintained her smile. ‘This isn’t easy,’ Pug said, assaulted by feelings for the girl. ‘Please, please, believe me, this is not easy.’
Suddenly the tension broke, and Carline laughed softly, sweet music to Pug. Caught halfway between tears and laughter, she said, ‘Poor Pug. I’ve upset you.’
Pug’s face showed his relief at her understanding. He felt buoyant with his affection for the girl. Shaking his head slowly, with a smile of released tension that gave him a somewhat silly expression, he said, ‘You’ve no idea, Carline. No idea.’ He reached out and touched her face tenderly. ‘We have time. I’m not going anywhere.’
From under lowered lashes, blue eyes regarded him with worry. ‘You’ll be leaving with Father soon.’
‘I mean when I return. I’ll be here for years.’ Gently he kissed her cheek. Forcing a lighter tone, he said, ‘I can’t inherit for three more years, that’s the law. And I doubt your father would part with you for as many years yet.’ Attempting a wry smile, he added, ‘In three years you might not be able to stand the sight of me.’
She came softly into his arms, holding him tightly, her face resting on his shoulder. ‘Never, Pug. I could never care for another.’ Pug could only marvel at the feel of her. Her body trembled as she said, ‘I don’t have words, Pug. You’re the only one who tried to . . . understand me. You see more than anyone else.’ Gently he pulled back a little and raised up her face with his hand. Again he kissed her, tasting salty tears upon her lips. She suddenly responded, holding him tighter and kissing him with passion. He could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her gown, and heard soft sighing sounds in his ear as he felt himself drifting back into mindless passion, his own body beginning to respond. Steeling his resolve, he gently disengaged himself from Carline’s embrace. Slowly he forced himself away from her and, with regret in his voice, said, ‘I think you should return to your rooms, Carline.’
Carline looked up at Pug, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted. Her breathing was husky, and Pug fought a mighty struggle to control himself and the situation. More firmly, he said, ‘You had best return to your rooms, now.’
They rose slowly from the sleeping pallet, each intensely aware of the other. Pug held her hand a moment longer, then released it. He bent and retrieved her cloak, holding it for her as she slipped into it. Guiding her to the door, he pulled it open and peered down the steps of the tower. With no hint of anyone nearby, he opened the door fully. She stepped through, then turned. Softly she said, ‘I know you think me a sometimes silly and vain girl, and there are times when I am, Pug. But I do love you.’
Before he could say a word, she vanished down the stairs, the faint rustling of her cloak echoing in the darkness. Pug quietly closed the door and then put out the lamp. He lay upon his pallet, staring up into the darkness. He could still smell her fresh scent in the air around him, and the remembered touch of her soft body under his hands made them tingle. Now that she was gone and the need for self-control gone with her, he let longing rush through himself. He could see her face alive with desire for him. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he groaned softly to himself and said, ‘I’m going to hate myself tomorrow.’
Pug awoke to pounding on the door. His first thought as he scrambled toward the door was of the Duke having learned of Carline’s visit. He’s here to hang me! was all he could think. It was still dark outside, so Pug opened the door expecting the worst. Instead of the girl’s angry father leading a company of castle guards, a castle porter stood outside the door.
‘Sorry to wake you, Squire, but Master Kulgan wishes you to join him at once,’ he said, pointing up toward Kulgan’s room. ‘At once,’ he repeated, mistaking Pug’s expression of relief for one of sleepy confusion. Pug nodded and shut the door.
He took stock. He was still dressed, having fallen asleep again without undressing. He stood quietly as his pounding heart stilled. His eyes felt as if they were packed with sand, and his stomach was upset, leaving a foul taste in his mouth. He went to his small table and splashed cold water on his face, muttering that he would never have another cup of ale again.
Pug reached Kulgan’s room and found the magician standing over a pile of personal belongings and books. Sitting on a stool by the magician’s sleeping pallet was Father Tully. The priest watched the magician adding to the steadily growing pile and said, ‘Kulgan, you can’t take all those books along. You would need two pack mules for them, and where you would keep them aboard ship where they would do you any good is beyond me.’
Kulgan looked at two books he held, like a mother regarding her young. ‘But I must take them along to further the boy’s education.’
‘Pah! So you’ll have something to mull over around the campfires and aboard ship, more likely. Spare me excuses. You will be riding hard to clear the South Pass before it is snowed in. And who can read in a ship crossing the Bitter Sea in winter? The boy will only be away from his studies a month or two. He’ll have over eight years more study after that. Give him a rest.’
