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 on something.”
“What?”
“Capital punishment.”
Kulgan laughed, a sharp barking sound, then said, “Very well, but the potential for disaster would be as high for the Princess, too, Pug. A city-bred noblewoman of the eastern court may indulge herself in as many lovers of any rank that she can enjoy while maintaining discretion, but the only daughter of a frontier duke who is so closely related to the king has no such luxury. She must be above suspicion in all things. Even suspicion could harm Carline. One who cares for her would take that into consideration. Do you understand?”
Pug nodded, fully relieved now that he had resisted temptation the night before.
“Good, I know you’ll be careful in the future.” Kulgan smiled. “And don’t mind old Tully. He’s just cross because the Duke ordered him to stay behind. He still thinks he’s as young as his acolytes. Now run along and get ready. Dawn’s less than an hour away.”
Pug nodded and hurried off, leaving Kulgan to regard the piles of books before him. With regret he picked the nearest one up and placed it on a nearby shelf. After a moment he grabbed another and stuffed it into a sack. “Just one won’t cause any harm,” he said to the invisible specter of Tully shaking his head in disapproval. He put the rest of the books back on the shelf, save the last volume, which he shoved into the sack. “All right, then,” he said defiantly, “two!”
EIGHT - Journey
A light wet snow was falling.
Pug shivered under his greatcloak, sitting astride his horse. He had been in the saddle for the last ten minutes, waiting as the rest of the Duke’s company made ready.
The courtyard filled with hurrying, shouting men, lashing supplies onto the balky mules of the baggage train. Dawn was just commencing, giving the courtyard a little color instead of the blacks and grey that had greeted Pug when he came from the tower. Porters had already carried his baggage down and were securing it among the other items being brought along.
A panicked “Whoa!” erupted behind Pug, and he turned to see Tomas pulling frantically at the reins of a spirited bay, his head tossing high. Like Pug’s own sleek, light war-horse, he was a far cry from the old draft animal they had ridden to the site of the shipwreck. “Don’t pull so hard,” Pug shouted. “You’ll saw at his mouth and make him mad. Pull back gently and release a couple of times.”
Tomas did, and the horse quieted down, moving alongside Pug’s own. Tomas sat as if the saddle had nails sticking through it. His face was a study in concentration as he tried to guess what the horse would do next.
“If you hadn’t been walking post yesterday, you could have gone riding, getting in some practice. Now I’ll have to teach you as we go.”
Tomas looked thankful for the promise of aid. Pug smiled. “By the time we reach Bordon, you’ll be riding like the King’s Lancers.”
“And walking like a ruptured spinster.” Tomas shifted in the saddle. “Already I feel like I’ve been sitting on a stone block for hours. After just a little way from the saddling post.”
Pug jumped down from his horse and looked over Tomas’s saddle, making Tomas move his leg so he could examine under the saddle flap, then asked, “Who saddled this horse for you?”