Convergence (42 page)

The music the boy produced with the instrument was marvelous, but Lorand was willing to bet he used more than his two hands to do it. With all those strings, easily more than a dozen, the incredible chords
had
to have more than four or five fingers producing them.

Holter interrupted their appreciation of the music by demanding the silver dins each of them had been left with. Once he had them he went to the bar where his friend had already returned, and engaged in a brief, low-voiced conversation. At the end of it he handed over all the silver including his own,
then
returned to the table with a very satisfied smile.

"
This's
gonna be a night we don't soon ferget," he confided with a small laugh. "Ginge'll keep us in brew long as we're still staiyiin', an' he'll even feed us some. Th' girls is upstairs awready an' fresh as posies in a field, an' Ginge swore t'make sure they do us right. Let's have us sum brew b'fore we start visitin' 'em."

Ro and Drowd agreed with that as quickly as Lorand did, but Mardimil had to come out of distraction before adding his own agreement. Lorand had the distinct feeling that the young noble had more than one thing upsetting him, which meant he'd have to find the opportunity to speak to Mardimil alone. Lorand could believe that Mardimil had never had any friends, and he'd all but promised to be the first. It was enough that he'd let one friend down, if only by forgetting about him when he was certainly dead. Lorand now needed to
be
a friend as badly as Mardimil needed to have one.

But the first cups of brew served turned out to be really good, almost as good, in fact, as the music. Lorand sat back and decided to wait a short while before looking for a chance to talk to Mardimil privately. That was mostly because he now knew the time with the ladies was really going to happen, and the thought of visiting the girls upstairs had warmed him a bit. It still felt faintly wrong, but being in Gan Garee also made it oddly acceptable. Nothing a man should do at home, but here in the wicked big city . . . which was supposed to end up
being
home. . . .

Lorand took another swallow of brew, which helped him to ignore the confusion his thoughts were turning into. Tomorrow he'd sort out which was what, but tonight he'd have a wonderful time, if only to honor the memory of Hat.

TWENTY-TWO

Clarion sat and listened to the music filling the sleazy tavern, distantly surprised that it wasn't all that bad. Neither was the drink they called brew, a distillation far superior to the one of the same name once given to him by three of Mother's carriage drivers and grooms. The three had laughed when the very young Clarion had thrown up from the vile taste of the liquid, but Mother's sudden appearance—and immediate dismissal of the three—had ended their laughter-It was now becoming possible to hear laughter among the patrons of that tavern, and Clarion nearly marveled at the experience of
not
being the cause of the amusement. He was instead a part of one group contributing to the laughter, which was an even more unique experience. For the last several minutes he had been using that to distance himself from the shock of what he'd been told—and the increasingly greater disturbance he felt over what lay ahead.

And that, of course, was the heart of the matter, not
knowing
what lay ahead. His companions had all spoken of "visiting the ladies," but Clarion was certain they had more than just visiting in mind. He'd nearly asked what that was, but some vague instinct warned him that admitting ignorance in that area would be far different from
the
supposed ignorance Drowd had admitted to. That Drowd fellow was a liar, Clarion knew it in his heart, but separating out the lies from the occasional truth the man spoke was difficult.

". . . sure you two don't mind?" Clarion heard the words from quite near, and came out of his thoughts to see that it was Ro who spoke, mainly to Coll but also to himself. "I'd be more than willin' to wait a while if you or Mardimil would rather go now."

"No, I'm perfectly willing to hold the table while you three visit the ladies first," Coll answered him,
then
looked toward Clarion. "You don't mind keeping me company, do you, Mardimil? We can have our turn with the ladies later."

"Of course we can," Clarion said, hopefully not too quickly. "I'd be pleased to stay and keep you company, Coll."

"Then it's settled," Coll said with a smile and a shrug. "You three have a good time, but make sure you don't wear them all out. We do want
something
left for us."

Holter, Drowd, and Ro laughed as they stood, each man solemnly promising not to "wear the ladies out." They then made their way toward a staircase to the left of the bar and the right of the cooking area, and quickly climbed out of sight. Clarion returned his attention to his brew, but stirred in faint annoyance in his chair rather than simply drinking. What
were
they going to be doing up those stairs?

"Mardimil, I think we need to talk," Coll said slowly with a good deal of hesitation. "I waited until we could have privacy, because the topic is a delicate one."

"You should have told me sooner that you wanted to speak with me privately," Clarion said with a smile, remembering with gratitude how Coll had defended him in the carriage against that odious Drowd. "Where conversations are concerned, privacy is easily had."

And then Clarion thickened some of the air around them in that special way he'd developed. Sounds became as muted as a thick door would make them, and even heavier odors were excluded. The remaining air inside their invisible bubble also began to circulate, constantly refreshed by what drifted through the delicate barrier he'd established.

"The first time I did this, I made a small error," Clarion confided to an amusingly surprised Coll. "I also turned the air of my barrier opaque, so that no one could see inside. Unfortunately that meant I was unable to see out as well, so I had no idea that everyone in the house was frantically trying to 'rescue' me from the unexplained horror that had swallowed me up. When I finally dispersed the barrier and reappeared, Mother was in the midst of hysterics. I had to promise never to do that again before anyone was able to calm her."

"Some mothers do tend to overreact," Coll said with a chuckle of appreciation. "My own mother had a fit once when she came out of the house and discovered how high I'd climbed into one of the shade trees. I'd seen my older brother do the same thing, you understand, so I couldn't comprehend why it was so terrible for
me.
The fact that he was seven while I was four wasn't a point I considered important."

"I wasn't permitted to climb anything at all," Clarion said with a sigh after sipping more of that brew. "In fact I wasn't permitted to do anything but behave like a gentleman, even at the age of four. Mother was usually too busy with society matters to play with me very often, but she was somehow always there if I wanted to try something forbidden. It didn't take long before I gave up on trying."

Clarion took another swallow of the brew to wash away the taste of depression. Mother had only been trying to protect him, of course, but because of that most of his life had been sheer monotony.

"I . . . take it then that you had . . . very little chance to do things most boys do," Coll said, looking faintly embarrassed but also determined.
"Things like . . . getting together with girls very often
...
or even at all?"

The question was as delicately put as anything Clarion had ever heard, but it told him Coll had penetrated to the secret he had meant to keep private. Clarion felt tempted to be angry, but the opportunity to learn what was going on was too good to be missed.

"You're quite correct," Clarion admitted, finding it impossible to keep the stiffness out of his voice. "A gentleman such as myself is required to have very little to do with women beyond occasionally speaking to them politely. Even that was an extremely rare occurrence, as most of the ladies seemed reluctant to speak with me when Mother was there.
A rudeness
, Mother said, which proved them completely unsuitable for me."

"And a rudeness they always showed, I'll bet, because your mother was always there," Coll said, for some reason looking very sympathetic. "Didn't you ever . . . feel a need to be near women
without
your mother? To be alone with them somewhere
private,
and investigating the . . . urges you began to feel when your body changed and you became a man? Didn't you ever have to
...
do something in private when the women weren't available and the . . . urges became too strong to bear?"

"But no young man should be abandoned to privacy with his mother around," Clarion protested, automatically repeating what Mother had said from the time he was very, very young. "When my body changed I did feel certain odd but unimportant urges, and Mother stayed with me almost constantly while I learned to ignore them. A real gentleman does ignore them, you know, but most often has to struggle alone. I was fortunate in that I had Mother's help and support."

"Fortunate," Coll echoed, for some reason now looking faintly ill. "Smothered to suffocation, and I have to figure out how to get around that. But maybe there's a way . . ."

Clarion understood nothing of the muttering Coll was doing, but he'd just emptied his cup of brew. That was a much more important and immediate problem, but one that was quickly solved when Clarion spotted the pitcher which had been left on the table. He wasn't used to serving himself with anything, but critical situations called for unusual solutions. Pouring more
brew
into his rather nice pewter cup was actually very easy, and when he sat back after the satisfying accomplishment, Coll was apparently ready to abandon his muttering.

"Mardimil, I'm about to tell you something you obviously don't know," he said quite clearly, proving the point. "It will come as a shock, so I'd like you to brace yourself."

"Certainly, braced," Clarion acknowledged after another swallow of that marvelous brew. "Please do go on."

"Mardimil, there are some things about men that women never find out," Coll said, happily speaking slowly enough that Clarion was able to follow him. "Your
mother, the dear soul,
thought
she knew what men do and are
and so tried to teach those things to you, but she was mistaken. It was no fault of hers, of course, because men do keep these things secret from women."
 

Clarion nodded his understanding, congratulating himself on having discovered that point earlier. Mother did have his best interests at heart, but had mistakenly put him at a disadvantage instead.

"Yes, the poor dear did try her best for me," Clarion agreed with a fond smile. "It isn't her fault she doesn't know about—what?"

"That men are
supposed
to feel certain urges for women," Coll supplied, leaning forward a bit. "There are certain things a man does when he's alone with a desirable woman, and I'll describe those things for you in detail so you'll know what to do when we go upstairs. But what
you
must do right now is convince both your mind and your body that doing them is perfectly natural. If you don't, you'll find disappointment rather than pleasure."

Clarion nodded again, then obediently worked on his mind and body while Coll began to tell him what men and women did together in private. Distantly Clarion had the thought that at another time he would have found what Coll said to be extremely embarrassing, but right now it was merely fascinating. He'd never dreamed it was possible to do
that,
or particularly desirable even if it
was
possible. Before Coll was through, a hardening and tightening had begun in Clarion's body, and for the first time since he'd started to experience that feeling, he made no effort to ignore and dismiss it.

". . .
so
try to remember what I told you," Coll said, apparently winding up his lecture. "It's perfectly acceptable to touch the girl anywhere you please, but you mustn't hurt her in any way. Once you've completed your first experience you may feel the urge to cause her pain, but that will be anger stemming from having been unfairly denied so long. One of the town boys was raised by a mother like yours, and when he finally had his first woman the guilt and rage were too much for him. He beat up that poor girl something awful, and in school they had to take all the boys aside to explain why he'd done it. Just remember that it
isn't
wrong, only natural, and there's nothing to feel guilty about."