They finished caring for the horse and left the shack. Bethel ran ahead, for she knew it was close to feeding time. As they passed the kennel, Rachmad called her over, and she joined the other dogs.
The entire way there was no conversation, and Kasumi entered his room with no further remark for either of the Midkemians. Pug sat on his pallet, waiting for the call for dinner, and thought about what he had learned. For all their strange ways, the Tsurani were much like other men. He found this somehow both comforting and troublesome.
Two weeks later, Pug was faced with another problem to mull over. Katala had been making it obvious she was less than pleased with Pug’s lack of attention. In little ways at first, then with more blatant signs, she had tried to spark his interest. Finally things had come to a head when he had run into her behind the cook shed earlier that afternoon.
Laurie and Kasumi were trying to build a small lute, with the aid of a Shinzawai woodcrafter Kasumi had expressed interest in the music of the troubadour and, the last few days, had watched closely while Laurie argued with the artisan over the selection of proper grains, the way to cut the wood, and the manner of fashioning the instrument. He was perplexed about whether or not needra gut would make suitable strings, and a thousand other details. Pug had found all this less than engrossing, and after a few days had found every excuse to wander off. The smell of curing wood reminded him too much of cutting trees in the swamp for him to enjoy being around the resin pots in the wood-carver’s shed.
This afternoon he had been lying in the shade of the cook shed when Katala came around the corner. His stomach constricted at the sight of her. He thought her very attractive, but each time he had tried to speak to her, he found he couldn’t think of anything to say. He would simply make a few inane remarks, become embarrassed, then hurry off. Lately he had taken to saying nothing. As she had approached this afternoon, he had smiled noncommittally, and she started to walk past. Suddenly she had turned and looked as if near to tears.
“What is the matter with me? Am I so ugly that you can’t stand the sight of me?”
Pug had sat speechless, his mouth open She had stood for a moment, then kicked him in the leg “Stupid barbarian,” she had sniffed, then run off.
Now he sat in his room, feeling confused and uneasy over this afternoon’s encounter Laurie was carving pegs for his lute. Finally he put knife and wood aside and said, “What’s troubling you, Pug? You look as if they’re promoting you to slave master and sending you back to the swamp.”
Pug lay back on his pallet, staring at the ceiling. “It’s Katala.”
“Oh,” Laurie said.
“What do you mean, ‘Oh’?”
“Nothing, except that Almorella tells me the girl has been impossible for the last two weeks, and you look about as bright as a poleaxed steer these days. What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. She’s just . . . she’s just . . . She kicked me today.”
Laurie threw back his head and laughed. “Why in the name of heaven did she do that?”
“I don’t know. She just kicked me.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Ha!” Laurie exploded with mirth. “That’s the trouble, Pug. There is only one thing I know of that a woman hates more than a man she doesn’t like paying her too much attention—and that’s lack of attention from a man she does like.”
Pug looked despondent. “I thought it was something like that.”
Surprise registered on Laurie’s face. “What is it? Don’t you like her?”
Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, Pug said, “It’s not that. I like her. She’s very pretty and seems nice enough. It’s just that . . .”
“What?”
Pug glanced sharply over at his friend, to see if he was being mocked. Laurie was smiling, but in a friendly, reassuring way. Pug continued. “It’s just . . . there’s someone else.”
Laurie’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut “Who? Except for Almorella, Katala’s the prettiest wench I’ve seen on this gods-forsaken world.” He sighed. “In honesty, she’s prettier than Almorella, though only a little. Besides, I’ve not seen you ever speak to another woman, and I’d have noticed you skulking off with anyone.”
Pug shook his head and looked down. “No, Laurie. I mean back home.”
Laurie’s mouth popped open again, then he fell over backward and groaned. “ ‘Back home!’ What am I to do with this child? He’s bereft of all wit!” He pulled himself up on an elbow and said, “Can this be Pug speaking? The lad who counsels me to put the past behind? The one who insists that dwelling on how things were at home leads only to a quick death?”
Pug ignored the sting of the questions. “This is different.”