Magician (22 page)

“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.”

Pug was perplexed by the conversation
and tried to ask a question, but was ignored by the two old
companions as they bickered. After several more remonstrations from
Tully, Kulgan surrendered “I suppose you’re right,”
he said, tossing the books onto his pallet. He saw Pug waiting by the
door and said, “What? Still here?”

Pug said, “You haven’t told
me why you sent for me yet, Kulgan.”

“Oh?” Kulgan said, eyes
blinking wide like those of a barn owl caught in a bright light. “I
haven’t?” Pug nodded “Well, then. The Duke orders
us ready to ride at first light. The dwarves have not answered, but
he will not wait. The North Pass is almost certain to be closed, and
he fears snow in the South Pass.” Kulgan said as an aside,
“Which he should. My weather nose tells me snow is nearly here.
We are in for an early and hard winter.”

Tully shook his head as he stood up.
“This from the man who predicted drought seven years ago, when
we had the worst flooding in memory. Magicians! Charlatans, all of
you.” He walked slowly to the door, then stopped to look at
Kulgan, his mock irritation replaced by genuine concern. “Though
you are right this time, Kulgan. My bones ache deeply. Winter is upon
us.”

Tully left and Pug asked, “We’re
leaving?”

With exasperation, Kulgan said, “Yes!
I just said so, didn’t I? Get your things together and quickly.
Dawn’s less than an hour away.”

Pug turned to leave, when Kulgan said,
“Oh, a moment, Pug.”

The magician crossed to the door and
glanced through it, ensuring Tully was down the stairs and out of
earshot Kulgan turned to Pug and said, “I have no fault to find
with your behavior . . . but should you in the future find yourself
with another late-night caller, I suggest you not subject yourself to
further testing. I’m not so sure you would do as well a second
time.”