“What do you mean, young lady, bringing my daughter's would-be lover under my roof under false pretenses?”

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Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes

by Trismegistus Shandy

Part 6 of 22

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Feel free to repost or mirror it on any noncommercial site or list. You can also create derivative works, including adaptations to other media, or new stories using the same setting, characters and so forth, as long as you mention and point to the original story.

An earlier version of this novel was serialized on the tg_fiction mailing list from December 2010 to March 2011. Thanks to the people who posted comments on that draft.

The full novel is already available from Lulu.com. I'm serializing it here in twenty-two parts, at least one chapter per week if I can manage it.

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“Zmina, it's been so long since the conclave, but I remember it like last night,” Tsavila said as they followed her father down the hall. “Father said that he sent you and your father an invitation, but when we didn't hear from you, I thought you weren't coming! Where is your father?”

“He is serving in the army,” Kazmina said, “chiefly as a medic. I have not spoken to him often or for long since he left home; neither of us is so powerful as you and your father with communication magic.”

“I see,” Psavian said. He led them into a library, with two tall shelves containing perhaps three hundred books, larger by far than her father's library, two desks, and four comfortable chairs. “And he sent you out of the country for the duration of the war, I suppose, to keep you safe?”

“Not at first,” she replied. “I had mastered, not all of his spells certainly, but the most important ones, our bread and butter; and I knew the people of our neighborhood, who could be trusted and from whom I must insist on payment in advance, and so forth. He left me at home, continuing to run our business, for some time. Then my cousin came to stay with me — her father thought she would be safer with me, since the war had spread to their home province — and we decided it would be both prudent and enjoyable to leave the country for a while.”

“Well,” Psavian said, “I suppose your father's school of magic does take less time to master than ours. If Tsavila can pluck secrets from men's hearts and compel their obedience as well as I can ten years hence, I shall be very well satisfied; indeed she is already more skillful than I was at her age, though not yet ready to earn a living on her own.”

Kazmina seethed, still trying not to show it, though she suspected her shield spell would not keep a master like Psavian from detecting her anger. Was he deliberately provoking her? It seemed likely. Then he must suspect something — or perhaps there was some enmity between him and her father she didn't know about, which he was taking out on her...? But why then send Launuru to her father?

“Tell me about the wedding,” she said, turning to Tsavila. “What is your fiancé like? How long have you known him?”

Tsavila glanced downward and blushed. “Just a few months,” she said. “But he's a wonderful man, gentle and thoughtful... and his family's magic is different enough from ours that we have a lot to teach one another, but similar enough that learning one another's magic won't be like starting over as a novice.”

“That's good,” Kazmina said, wondering whether Tsavila would say the same when her father was not present. Had she so quickly forgotten her love of Launuru when he was gone? Or was Launuru, perhaps, self-deceived about how serious the affair was on her side? Psavian had certainly thought it serious enough, to use such powerful magic to get rid of him. “I think your father said that the wedding would be elsewhere, though?”

“Yes, at our country house near Tialem. You'll like it, I think; its gardens aren't as vast as those on your father's estate, but they're beautiful for their size. The wedding will be at the shrine to Tsaumala a short distance from the house.”

“We'll leave tomorrow morning,” Psavian said. “You must join us then — we'll have room in one of the carriages for you. Or better, tonight — tell me which inn you're staying at, and I'll send for your things; you may stay here tonight.”

“That will be good. But we've scarcely anything to send for; we've been traveling light, using my magic.”

“Very well. What transportation spells do you know? My daughter's fiancé knows some powerful ones, and his father and mother still more, which he will learn in due course...”

“Alas, I know only a special application of my father's great discovery. To pass quickly over uninteresting or dangerous territory, I changed myself and my cousin into birds, and we flew to our next destination. Because we had to acquire new clothes each time we returned to human form, I did so sparingly — only four times in the course of our voyage.”

“Ah, I see.”

“What's it like being a bird?” Tsavila asked, her eyes sparkling. “I wanted your father to change me into something when we were staying with you during the conclave, but Father wouldn't let him...”

“I can show you sometime, if you like,” Kazmina said. Psavian looked disapproving, but she ignored that. “But you'll need to learn one of Father's spells to keep your reason when I change you into an animal. It's easier than the transformation spell itself, though.”

“Time enough for that later,” Psavian said. “For the next three days we will be busy enough preparing for the wedding, and for some days afterward Tsavila and Itsulanu will be busy with yet other matters.” Tsavila blushed.

There came a knock at the door.

“Who can that be?” Psavian said. “I told the servants we were not to be disturbed — ”

“Perhaps it's Itsulanu, Father?” Tsavila said, going quickly to the door and opening it.

It was in fact Verentsu, Tsavila's brother. Kazmina wondered how he had reacted to Launuru's revelation. He didn't look especially perturbed; he must have learned to keep his emotions thoroughly hidden, living with such a father and sister.

“Father, Omutsanu and Itsulanu are here,” Verentsu said. “Shall I send them back here, or — ?”

“Oh, how thoughtless of me,” Psavian said. “Your arrival, Kazmina, drove this other meeting quite out of my mind. Well, Tsavila, go and see your fiancé; his father, your brother and your friend's cousin are sufficient chaperons, I suppose.” He smiled. “Kazmina and I will be there shortly. I wish to hear more news of her father.”

“Very well,” Tsavila said. “Come along as soon as you can, Zmina. I want you to meet Itsulanu.”

But the moment Tsavila closed the door behind her, Psavian said sharply: “What do you mean, young lady, bringing my daughter's would-be lover under my roof under false pretenses?”

---

Launuru's distraction was broken when Verentsu said he was going to tell his father and sister of the new guests' arrival. She was left alone with Omutsanu and Itsulanu in the parlor.

“So, you've traveled all the way from Netuatsenu?” Omutsanu said. “Was it a difficult voyage, with the civil war in your country?”

“Not as bad as you might think,” Launuru replied, smiling nervously. “We avoided the capital and other places where there's been fighting, using Kazmina's magic to travel sometimes.”

“What sort of magic does your cousin wield?” Itsulanu asked. Launuru was spared the necessity of answering right away; Omutsanu said:

“Verentsu said she's the daughter of Znembalan, yes? Their family specialize in transmutations and transformations. Some years ago Znembalan discovered a much more powerful spell for the transformation of living creatures than had ever been known; he demonstrated it at the last conclave, don't you remember? Turned himself and his daughter into various animals and birds, and did arithmetic by scratching a slate with a claw or talon to prove they were still rational in their altered forms...?”

“Oh, yes! I remember her now. She was a wild thing; I remember thinking she acted as though she'd spent most of her life in some animal form or other.”

“Did you travel by transforming into animals or birds?” Omutsanu asked. “Or does your cousin know other transportation magic as well?”

“We changed into birds a few times,” Launuru said. “And once Kazmina changed into a horse, and let me ride her. — What sort of magic does your family use?” she asked, thinking it prudent to change the subject.

“We mostly enchant things,” Itsulanu said. “We make cabinets, jugs, and satchels that are bigger inside than out, and put protective spells on houses, carriages and so forth. But we also do transportation magic — the King relies on Father and Mother to teleport his ambassadors to and from various foreign capitals.”

Just then Verentsu returned with Tsavila. Launuru was happy to be with her again, but frustrated that she still couldn't tell her who she was, with Itsulanu and his father present.

That momentary happiness was marred, if not destroyed, when Tsavila rushed to Itsulanu and embraced, then kissed him, ignoring Launuru altogether. Of course — as far as she knew, Launuru was Shalasan, a cousin of her childhood friend whom she'd only met briefly half an hour ago. But she was behaving very enthusiastically about this arranged marriage.

“Shall I have food or drink brought for you?” Verentsu said. “Father said he was going to be closeted with Kazmina of Netuatsenu for a little longer, but would join us soon.”

“I at least can wait until your father joins us,” Omutsanu said, with a benevolent look at his son and prospective daughter-in-law. “Itsulanu?”

“Indeed, I'm not thirsty either.” He and Tsavila sat on the divan, very close together; Verentsu resumed his seat on the chair near Launuru's, and Omutsanu took another unoccupied chair next to Verentsu.

“Let's see,” said Verentsu; “you've all met Shalasan now. She was just telling me about her family when Omutsanu and Itsulanu arrived, Tsavila; her grandfather was Znembalan's brother, and her parents were merchants, traveling all over the world when she was a child.”

“Interesting,” Tsavila said, though she didn't seem nearly as interested in “Shalasan's” history as in Itsulanu's person. “Was that how you learned our language?”

“Yes,” Launuru said. “We lived in Nesantsai for two years when I was about eight to ten years old, and I think we even visited Nilepsan a few times, though I don't remember much about that.”

“Zmina told me you changed into birds while traveling hither,” Tsavila said. “What is it like to fly?”

“I don't actually remember it very well,” Launuru confessed. “It's like a dream. I couldn't think like a person when I was a bird, like Kazmina can. I remember that I couldn't see colors, only shades of grey. And the flying wasn't like the flying dreams I've had, but more like swimming... not much like that, but more like swimming than walking or anything else I can compare it to.”

“How does Kazmina's spell handle your clothing and baggage?” Omutsanu asked. Launuru blushed; she'd managed to divert attention away from this point, earlier.

“It doesn't,” she said, looking down at her lap. “We had to leave our old clothes behind and acquire new ones each time, so she used that spell sparingly.”

“Ah,” Omutsanu said with a smile, “perhaps you will wish me to teleport you and your baggage to your next destination, after the wedding. Let me know.”

“Thank you.”

The wine she had drunk was beginning to have its effects. She squirmed a little in her seat. Then inspiration struck. She leaned over toward the divan and said in a low voice, “Tsavila, could you show me where is the garderobe?”

“Oh, of course,” Tsavila said. “We'll be back shortly, my love,” she said to Itsulanu, and led Launuru from the room. Finally, Launuru thought, a chance to speak with her privately!

---

Kazmina had worried that her second-hand shields might not protect Launuru against mental searches by a master wizard such as Psavian, and she had prepared a contingency plan for such an event. She hoped, indeed, that Psavian had learned Launuru's identity only by looking into her mind, and not from Kazmina's. If he could see past her own shields, the wheel was off the carriage; there would be a very short wizardly battle, which she would probably lose. But assuming he knew only what he saw in Launuru's mind, she could bluff this out. She kept her face unperturbed as she said:

“I'm glad we're finally alone, so I can explain that. I thought perhaps bringing her here would be more satisfying to you than turning him into a vole and then sending you a curt message to that effect?”

“Satisfying? Do not provoke me!” She readied her defenses. “I have seen your plans in the mind of your so-called cousin, to closet her with my daughter so they could plot an elopement! Not that I think Tsavila would fall prey to the blandishments of that creature a second time, but — ”

“Oh, but you've misunderstood. I had to deceive her as to our real object in coming; I have not your power to compel obedience. But if you have seen her plans in her mind, and what she thinks my plans are, you can look a little deeper and see that she is no longer in love with your daughter.”

“What?” Psavian looked startled. Good; she had him off-balance, and her own shields against mind-searching were holding, though the second-hand shields she'd given Launuru apparently hadn't held for long.

“Go ahead; test her from here, if you can, or we might return to the parlor and I'll engage her in conversation if necessary while you discreetly look into her thoughts and emotions.”

“That will not be necessary.” He composed himself and closed his eyes for a few moments. Then abruptly he opened them and laughed heartily.

That was not the reaction Kazmina had expected, but she hoped it was a good sign.

“I see what you've done,” he said. “I commend you, and your father who invented that spell — have you made improvements to it yourself? No? Well, it was very well cast, in any case. Very clever, to convince the boy that he must become a girl in order to secretly approach his beloved, and then, in making him a girl, cause her to forget his love for her and... Ha, ho!” He broke off in another bout of prolonged laughter, then dried his tears and said, more seriously: “Still, clever though it was, I still think it unwise. If I had not put a quick little geas on her as soon as I detected the imposture, she would have confessed her identity to Verentsu in our absence, which might have had unfortunate consequences. I did not tell my children about the necessity of sending the boy to your father, of course.”

“Of course,” Kazmina said, though she hadn't realized it until now. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing directly. I arranged for Verentsu to hear reports that his schoolmate had been carrying on with one of the academy scullery-maids at the same time he was courting my daughter, and that, having gotten her with child, he had fled to avoid a forced marriage with her; Verentsu broke the news to his sister without my having to say anything, or admit that I knew of her girlish dalliance. She quickly dried her tears once she got to know Itsulanu; he is twice the man his sometime rival was, even aside from his wizardly heritage.”

“A masterly proceeding,” Kazmina said with feigned admiration. “I apologize for not sending word to you beforehand, but you see I have not mastered communication magic; I could not send a message as fast as I could travel hither to tell you myself, and I thought — foolishly, perhaps — that it would be droll to show you at the same time.”

“Well, how shall we deal with her now? I have a mind to do nothing, except reexamine the hasty geas I placed on her to ensure it is stable, and perhaps set conditions for its expiration.”

“How does that work, if I may ask? My father taught me no such spells of compulsion as your family are masters of.” A little flattery might help.

“It prevents her from telling anyone who she really is,” he said. “She will continue to act the role of your cousin, except when alone with you. As I said, it was a hasty job, the work of a few moments, but if I cast it well, she will think she is refraining from telling Tsavila and Verentsu her identity for her own reasons, biding a more propitious time.”

“What a subtle spell!” (Was she perhaps laying on the flattery too thick?)

“Isn't it?” he replied complacently. (Apparently not.) “I don't think it necessary to leave it on her indefinitely — it would inconvenience you to be burdened with such an impostor cousin, I suppose. But a few days in company with Verentsu will work on her, and possibly on him — I would not object to that in the least. I shall remove the geas, or adjust it to expire under suitable conditions, before you and she leave my estate after the wedding.”

Kazmina realized what he was talking about, putting it together with Launuru's odd behavior earlier. That was what he had laughed so hard about, after looking more deeply into her mind! Having been a close friend of Verentsu before her transformation, she had fallen in love with him on meeting him; the transformation spell had turned manly friendship into womanly passion. Kazmina hoped she could get them all out of this mess before the wedding.

“Shall we rejoin the others?” Psavian said, rising.

“Let's,” she said.

---

Having been in the house a number of times, of course Launuru knew where the garderobe was; she relied on the complexity of the hallways to give her an excuse to ask Tsavila not to return to the parlor until she finished her business. She didn't wish to confess her identity and beg forgiveness for the temporary deceit while walking down the hall, then interrupt Tsavila's astonished barrage of questions to duck into the garderobe and pee before resuming the conversation.

“I see that you know our language very well indeed,” Tsavila said, leading her around a corner.

“Yes, I said I lived in your country for two years. Why do you...?”

“You used the word 'garderobe'. Just the right word for the situation — most foreigners who pick up the language on the streets, or from our mercenaries or sailors, use a more vulgar word, and most foreigners of your class who learn it in academies or from private tutors pick up some archaic euphemism like 'necessary room' or 'toolshed'.”

Launuru remembered quite clearly how he had retailed this observation of his to Tsavila, to her immoderate amusement, on her returning from the garderobe during one of his visits. In a way, it seemed like a perfect opening to tell her who she was — but her need for the garderobe had only increased during the short walk thither.

“Can you wait for me?” she asked, stepping in but holding the door open for a moment. “I'm afraid I might get lost trying to find the parlor again.”

“Of course.” But Tsavila cast a glance down the hallway toward the parlor; a longing glance, perhaps.

While she lifted her dress and situated herself, Launuru thought about that glance, and about Tsavila's enthusiastic greeting of Itsulanu. Apparently she had reconciled herself to Launuru's loss some time ago, and was not merely resigning herself to her father's plans for want of any effective way to oppose him, but had actually grown to love the man her father had chosen for her. Would Launuru really be doing her good by telling her who she was and pleading with her to elope, as they had planned six months ago? Perhaps she should sound her out, find out her feelings toward her before confronting her with what might be a hard choice.

She left the garderobe. Before she could decide how to start some thread of conversation that would prompt Tsavila to talk about him, her friend said: “What do you think of him?”

“Hmm?” For a moment Launuru wasn't sure which “him” she was asking about. She found her thoughts turning to Verentsu again, and said “Your brother is a gracious host,” which was very inadequate praise, but all she could bring herself to say at the moment.

“Oh, yes. But I was talking about Itsulanu. Isn't he wonderful?”

“Um.” Launuru was taken aback. Tsavila was seriously enamored with him. “I suppose... I mean, I just met him. He's polite enough. Ah, how long have you known him...?”

“Six months. I mean, I'd met him once before that, when we were children, but I didn't really get to know him until our parents introduced us last winter. I was hesitant at first, you know — I think he was too, we were a little resentful of our parents arranging the match for us, but I soon found out how good a man he is.”

“Is he the first man you've ever loved?” That was perhaps too direct, coming from someone Tsavila thought she'd just met, but Launuru could not at the moment think of a subtler way to get to the point.

Tsavila scowled and started down the hall. “Come on,” she said, “they'll be waiting for us.”

“I'm sorry to pry,” Launuru said. “I didn't realize — ”

“To answer you: he's not the first man I've loved, but he's the first man who's really loved me.”

Before Launuru could think of what, if anything, to say to that, they were back in the parlor. Kazmina and Psavian had returned, and a servant was handing round more glasses of wine. Tsavila took her seat next to Itsulanu again and kissed him. Launuru sat uneasily in the chair near Verentsu again.

---

When Psavian and Kazmina returned to the parlor, the older wizard asked in Rekhim, “Where are Tsavila and, ah, Shalasan?”

“Attending to business,” Omutsanu replied shortly. Psavian then spoke to his son in Ksiluri; he replied briefly.

With the mix of people present, it was inevitable that someone would be excluded from any general conversation. Kazmina soon found herself listening distractedly to a conversation in Rekhim between Omutsanu and Psavian, while Verentsu and Itsulanu conversed in Ksiluri. She thought about Launuru. How would the geas be affecting her? Would she realize she was under a spell, or blame herself for cowardice? Had she perhaps gotten Tsavila to show her to the garderobe so as to have a chance to tell her of her identity and her plans, and then found herself unable to command her tongue to speak? Or had she felt herself growing afraid that Tsavila would think her unmanly to take such a form in order to approach her, and found excuses to put off telling her...?

She was recalled from her distraction when Omutsanu addressed her, saying: “Psavian tells me that your father is serving as an army medic?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“It seems to me that his magic could be of assistance to your king against those rebels in many other ways than merely healing wounded soldiers. Some military uses of his transformation spell should be legal under the Compact, I think.”

“Um,” she temporized, wondering where to begin. They thought her father was serving the king? Which king? Should she disabuse them of the misconception, or let them keep thinking what they liked...? No, she had enough lies to keep track of without that.

“It's possible he's using his magic in other ways as well,” she said, “but he hasn't told me so. We've only spoken three times since he left home, though, and then only briefly; he left me a limited number of prepared spells to contact him in emergencies, and each allows only a short conversation. And another thing — my father is serving the revolutionary army, not the army of the deposed tyrant or one of the would-be successors to that office.” Oh, dear; that was probably too blunt. But if they saw her being bluntly honest about one thing, they might be less suspicious that she was deceiving them in other matters.

Omutsanu was silent for a moment, then said, “I see.” Another pause, and he said to Psavian, “Now, about the binding rite...”

Just then, Tsavila and Launuru returned and sat in their former places. Both looked distracted and upset. Kazmina glanced aside at Psavian; he was smiling, apparently pleased with whatever he saw in Launuru's mind, and perhaps in Tsavila's.

There was a brief conversation among the others in Ksiluri, Psavian asking something and all the others but her replying briefly; then he said to her in Rekhim, “We'll eat dinner in half an hour or so, my dear.” Verentsu was rising from his seat as his father spoke; he left the room and returned a few moments later, saying something to his father, who nodded in satisfaction and resumed his conversation with Omutsanu about the wedding plans. Verentsu sat down again next to Launuru, and they and Tsavila and Itsulanu resumed a conversation in Ksiluri. Again, Kazmina was out on the edge of things.