Roland gasped and pushed himself back from Pug, fear evident on his face. He struggled weakly to pull his sword Pug leaned forward and firmly gripped Roland’s wrist. Barely able to speak, he shook his head and said, “There’s no reason.”
Roland looked into Pug’s eyes, and the fear in his own began to subside. Something inside the older squire seemed to break, and there was only a fatigued, drained young man sitting on the ground. Breathing heavily, Roland sat back, tears forming in his eyes, and asked, “Why?”
Pug’s own fatigue made him lean back, supporting himself on his hands. He studied the handsome young face before him, twisted by doubt “Because you’re held under a spell more compelling than any I could fashion.” He looked Roland in the eyes “You truly love her, don’t you?”
The last vestige of Roland’s anger slowly evaporated and his eyes showed some slight fear remaining, but also Pug saw deep pain and anguish as a tear fell to his cheek. His shoulders slumped and he nodded, his breath ragged as he tried to speak. For a moment he was on the verge of crying, but he fought off his pain and regained his poise Taking a deep breath, Roland wiped away the tears and took another deep breath. He looked directly at Pug, then guardedly asked, “And you?”
Pug sprawled on the ground, feeling some strength returning. “I . . . I’m not sure. She makes me doubt myself. I don’t know. Sometimes I think of no one else, and other times I wish I were as far from her as I could be.”
Roland indicated understanding, the last residue of fear draining away. “Where she’s concerned, I don’t have a whit of wit.”
Pug giggled. Roland looked at him, then also began to laugh “I don’t know why,” said Pug, “but for some reason, I find what you said terribly funny.” Roland nodded and began to laugh too. Soon they were both sitting with tears running down their faces as the emotional vacuum left by the fleeing anger was replaced by giddiness.
Roland recovered slightly, holding back the laughter, when Pug looked at him and said, “A whit of wit!” which sent both of them off on another kag of laughter.
“Well!” a voice said sharply. They turned and found Carline, flanked by two ladies-in-waiting, surveying the scene before her. Instantly both boys became silent. Casting a disapproving look upon the pair as they sprawled upon the ground, she said, “Since you two seem so taken with each other, I’ll not intrude.”
Pug and Roland exchanged looks and suddenly erupted into uproarious laughter. Roland fell over backward, while Pug sat, legs stretched before him, laughing into his cupped hands. Carline flushed angrily and her eyes widened With cold fury in her voice she said “Excuse me!” and turned, sweeping by her ladies. As she left, they could hear her loudly exclaim, “Boys!”
Pug and Roland sat for a minute until the near-hysterical fit passed, then Roland rose and extended his hand to Pug. Pug took it and Roland helped him to his feet. “Sorry, Pug. I had no right to be angry with you.” His voice softened. “I can’t sleep nights thinking of her I wait for the few moments we’re together each day. But since you saved her, all I ever hear is your name.” Touching his sore neck, Roland said, “I got so angry, I thought I’d kill you. Damn near got myself killed instead.”
Pug looked at the corner where the Princess had disappeared, nodding agreement. “I’m sorry, too, Roland. I’m not very good at controlling magic yet, and when I lose my temper, it seems all sorts of terrible things can happen. Like with the trolls.” Pug wanted Roland to understand he was still Pug, even though he was now a magician’s apprentice. “I would never do something like that on purpose—especially to a friend.”
Roland studied Pug’s face a moment and grinned, half-wryly, half-apologetically “I understand I acted badly You were right: she’s only setting us one against the other I am the fool. It’s you she cares for.”
Pug seemed to wilt. “Believe me, Roland, I’m not so sure I’m to be envied.”
Roland’s grin widened. “She is a strong-willed girl, that’s clear.” Caught halfway between an open display of self-pity and mock-bravado, Roland selected mock-bravado.
Pug shook his head. “What’s to be done, Roland?”
Roland looked surprised, then laughed loudly. “Don’t look to me for advice, Pug I dance to her tune more than any. But ‘there are as many changes in a young girl’s heart as in the fickle winds,’ as the old saying goes. I’ll not blame you for Carline’s actions.” He winked at Pug conspiratorially. “Still, you won’t mind if I keep an eye out for a change in the weather?”