‘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.’
Pug blanched. ‘You heard?’
Kulgan pointed to a spot where the floor and wall met. ‘That fire-pot thing of yours exits the wall a foot below there, and it seems a marvelous conduit for sound.’ Absently he said, ‘I’ll have to look to see how it conducts sound so well when we return.’ Returning to the boy, he said, ‘In any event, I was working late and didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard every word.’ Pug flushed. Kulgan said, ‘I don’t mean to embarrass you, Pug. You acted rightly and showed surprising wisdom.’ Putting his hand upon Pug’s shoulder, he said, ‘I’m not one to advise you in such matters, I fear, as I’ve had scant experience with women, of any age, let alone such young and headstrong ones.’ Looking Pug in the eyes, he said, ‘But this much I do know, it is almost impossible in the heat of the moment to understand long-term consequences. I am proud you were able to do this.’
Pug smiled self-consciously. ‘It was easy enough, Kulgan, I just kept my mind focused