Pug never spoke of his request to Katala She sensed that something troubled him deeply, something that seemed to add a bitter note to their otherwise joyful time together. He learned the depth of his love for her and began to explore her complex nature. Besides being strong-willed, she was quick-minded. He only had to explain something to her once, and she understood. He learned to love her dry wit, a quality native to her people, the Thuril, and sharpened to a razor’s edge by her captivity She was an observant student of everything around her and commented unmercifully upon the foibles of everyone in the household, to their detriment and Pug’s amusement She insisted upon learning some of Pug’s language, so he began teaching her the King’s Tongue. She proved an apt student.
Two months went by uneventfully, then one night Pug and Laurie were called to the dining room of the master of the house. Laurie had completed work upon his lute and, though dissatisfied in a hundred little ways, judged it passable for playing. Tonight he was to play for the Lord of the Shinzawai.
They entered the room and saw that the lord was entertaining a guest, a black-robed man, the Great One whom they had glimpsed months ago. Pug stood by the door while Laurie took a place at the foot of the low dining table. Adjusting the cushion he sat upon, he began to play.
As the first notes hung in the air, he started singing: an old tune that Pug knew well. It sang of the joys of harvest and the riches of the land, and was a favorite in farm villages throughout the Kingdom. Besides Pug, only Kasumi understood the words, though his father could pick out a few that he had learned during his chess matches with Pug.
Pug had never heard Laurie sing before, and he was genuinely impressed. For all the troubadour’s braggadocio, he was better than any Pug had heard. His voice was a clear, true instrument, expressive in both words and music of what he sang. When he was finished, the diners politely struck the table with eating knives, in what Pug assumed was the Tsurani equivalent of applause.
Laurie began another tune, a merry air played at festivals throughout the Kingdom. Pug remembered when he had last heard it, at the Festival of Banapis the year before he had left Crydee for Rillanon. He could almost see once more the familiar sights of home. For the first time in years, Pug felt a deep sadness and longing that nearly overwhelmed him.
Pug swallowed hard, easing the tightness in his throat. Homesickness and hopeless frustration warred within him, and he could feel his hard-learned self-control slipping away. He quickly invoked one of the calming exercises he had been taught by Kulgan. A sense of well-being swept over him, and he relaxed. While Laurie performed, Pug used all his concentration to fend off the haunting memories of home. All his skills created an aura of calm he could stand within, a refuge from useless rage, the only legacy of reminiscence.
Several times during the performance, Pug felt the gaze of the Great One upon him. The man seemed to study him with some question in his eyes. When Laurie was finished, the magician leaned over and spoke to his host.
The Lord of the Shinzawai beckoned Pug to the table. When he was seated, the Great One spoke. “I must ask you something.” His voice was clear and strong, and his tone reminded Pug of Kulgan when he was preparing Pug for lessons. “Who are you?”
The direct, simple question caught everyone at the table by surprise. The lord of the house seemed uncertain as to the magician’s question and started to reply. “He is a slave—”
He was interrupted by the Great One’s upraised hand. Pug said, “I am called Pug, master.”
Again the man’s dark eyes studied him. “Who are you?”
Pug felt flustered. He had never liked being the center of attention, and this time it was focused upon him as never before in his life.
“I am Pug, once of the Duke of Crydee’s court.”
“Who are you, to stand here radiating the power?” At this all three men of the Shinzawai household started, and Laurie looked at Pug in confusion.
“I am a slave, master.”
“Give me your hand.”
Pug reached out, and his hand was taken by the Great One. The man’s lips moved, and his eyes clouded over Pug felt a warmth flow through his hand and over him. The room seemed to glow with a soft white haze. Soon all he could see was the magician’s eyes. His mind fogged over, and time was suspended. He felt a pressure inside his head as if something were trying to intrude. He fought against it, and the pressure withdrew.
His vision cleared, and the two dark eyes seemed to withdraw from his face until he could see the entire room again. The magician let go of his hand. “Who are you?” A brief flicker in his eyes was the only sign of his deep concern.
“I am Pug, apprentice to the magician Kulgan.”
At this the Lord of the Shinzawai blanched, confusion registering on his face. “How . . .”
The black-robed Great One rose and announced, “This slave is no longer property of this house. He is now the province of the Assembly.”
The room fell silent. Pug couldn’t understand what was happening and felt afraid.
The magician drew forth a device from his robe Pug remembered that he had seen one before, during the raid on the Tsurani camp, and his fear mounted. The magician activated it, and it buzzed as the other one had. He placed his hand on Pug’s shoulder, and the room disappeared in a grey haze.
TWENTY-ONE - Changeling