“Maybe he did as the servant said, maybe not. Either way, I fear he did meet with some misfortune, for the last I heard his family had not heard from him either. But wine can't be pressed into grapes. I met Itsulanu when I was angry and sad, and he comforted me. Now in less than three days he is to be my husband, and that makes me happier than I can say. I wish my sometime lover may be happy wherever he is; I forgive him.”

---

Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes

by Trismegistus Shandy

Part 9 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.

---

Launuru hoped she would have a chance to talk with Tsavila privately soon, but it seemed unlikely, since they'd be sharing a room and probably a bed with Tsaikuno. But she was surprised at the specific rooms assigned them. Tsavila showed her sisters-in-law and their children to what Launuru remembered as being her own bedroom; then led her, Kazmina and Tsaikuno across the hall to the bedroom which had belonged to her mother until her death. If Launuru remembered correctly, it was the room she had died in, eleven months ago. Perhaps Tsavila had moved her things into it after the year of mourning for her mother was over?

“This is our room for tonight,” Tsavila said, which seemed to suggest that it wasn't her room normally, but Launuru didn't feel comfortable asking just now. She couldn't explain who she was in front of Tsaikuno, and without explaining, she couldn't reveal what she knew about Tsavila's mother and their sometime room assignments. “I think the servants have already brought up your things; look around and make sure.”

Tsaikuno looked into the cabinets and shelves, examined some parcels and bags, and pronounced herself satisfied. It didn't take Kazmina and Launuru long to identify the small bundle of clothes they'd bought in the last couple of days.

After exchanging a few words with Kazmina in Rekhim, Tsavila said: “I see your cousin wasn't joking about traveling light...! Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?”

Tsaikuno froze in the act of pulling off her dress. “Should I wear something in bed?” she asked in a small voice, putting it back on.

“It might make our guests more comfortable,” Tsavila said. “It's so cold in Netuatsenu at night, even for most of the Summer, that they wear clothes in bed, — right?”

“Not everywhere,” Launuru replied; “in southern Netuatsenu it's warm at night this time of year... but we'll follow your custom while we're here. We've been obliged to do so already, the last few days — traveling light, as you said.” She removed the blouse and skirt she'd borrowed from Psilina, then her undergarments, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, noting ruefully that Tsavila's naked body was no more exciting to her than Kazmina's or Tsaikuno's. Was there really any point in telling her now who she was? It would only spoil her wedding... but she didn't want to go away and never see her again, and as Kazmina's mundane cousin she had scarcely any claim to her friendship — still less to Verentsu's...

Once undressed, Tsavila put out the lamp by the door, and they got into bed, Tsavila at the right side, Kazmina to her left, then Launuru, and Tsaikuno on the end. Tsavila put out the lamp by the bed, and the room was in near-total darkness; the moon was still only eight days past new and the small, high window faced north, anyway.

For some time after they settled down, Tsavila and Kazmina kept whispering in Rekhim. After a bit, Kazmina said in Tuaznu, “We're not bothering you, are we?”

“No,” Launuru said, though it gave her a pang to be shut out of their conversation. She wondered if Kazmina were telling Tsavila about her...? But she didn't hear her name mentioned, and after a while they fell silent. Launuru fell asleep not long after that.

---

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Tsavila asked in a whisper, once they were all in bed.

“Are you sure Tsaikuno can't hear us?” Kazmina asked.

“She barely understands Rekhim yet.”

“All right... Your father told me he could let me talk with my father in a dream tonight, if I cooperate with his spell. Do you know the spell he's going to use? Can you cast it yourself?”

“I can,” Tsavila said, “though I only learned it recently and haven't mastered all the variations... I don't think I could do it for you. I don't think I could reach someone so far away, and I've never put two other people together in their dreams, only put myself into someone else's dream.”

“Never mind that. My question is, will your father be able to hear everything my father and I say to each other?”

“...I'm not sure, but I think so. It depends on how he works the spell... if he wanted to listen in, he could, but it should be obvious. I mean, you and your father and he will all meet in some dream-place and talk.”

“All right. Another thing... can you protect yourself from your father's spells? Does he know everything you do and think, scrying your actions or looking into your mind whenever he likes, or do you still have some secrets?”

“I think so. I mean, he's far more experienced than me, but I'm about as powerful. I think he could break through my shields and hear my thoughts if he wanted to, but not without me noticing. And certainly I haven't noticed him doing anything like that in a long time, not since he was teaching me how to form mental shields several years ago.”

“Can you look at someone else's mind and see if your father has been poking around in it?”

“What a question...! Yes, probably, if I needed to. Why...?”

“Look into mine. And brace yourself, try not to yell, at least not in Ksiluri, when you see what I'm thinking about.” Kazmina altered her mental shield, opening a narrow crack that, hopefully, only Tsavila would be able to easily see or use.

Tsavila said nothing aloud for some while. After a minute or two, she drew in her breath sharply, but still said nothing. Kazmina caught stray thoughts here and there that were not her own, as Tsavila looked through her mind.

...not his fault... how could he?... such courage... but can't... another trap... how can I?...

“Oh...!” Tsavila finally said. “I can't... I'm going to look in his mind now.”

Silence again. Much later:

“She's asleep. She was worrying about how to tell me and Verentsu — but mainly Verentsu, I think — she hadn't realized my father put her under another geas. I noticed earlier that she was partial to Verentsu, but... she loves him as much as I loved him, before. As I love Itsulanu, now. Oh...!”

“Has your father broken through my shields without me noticing?” Kazmina asked.

“It doesn't look like it... oh, my poor Launuru...!”

“What do you think we should do?”

“I don't know. I didn't think my father would... I'll have to think.”

“If we tell Verentsu, could your father find out by looking into his mind, or does he have some shield spells on him...?”

“Of course he has a shield, like the one you put on Launuru, which wasn't strong enough to protect her from my father. But Verentsu's shield spell was cast by my father himself; of course he could get through it if he wanted to... I could put another shield spell on him, but then my father would get suspicious if he tried to look into Verentsu's mind and realized he couldn't. And if he did manage to break through my shield and saw what we'd told Verentsu...”

“We won't tell him yet, then. And we can't tell her that we know about the geas, or that you know who she is — your father is likely to look into her mind again too.”

“We've got to do something!”

“I know.”

After more fruitless discussion, they fell silent. Kazmina quietly recited the charm Psavian had given her, then concentrated on it until she fell asleep.

---

The People's Fifth Army of Setuaznu met with troops loyal to the self-styled King Mbavalash near Tazniva's Bridge, late in the morning of the eighth day of the fifth month; they fought until nearly sunset, when the “King's” troops withdrew in confusion. More than a hundred Fifth Army soldiers were killed, and nearly three hundred wounded; the army's chief medic was kept busy for hours doing triage and working healing transformations on those too badly wounded for his colleagues to handle with conventional healing spells. Well after midnight, he retired to his tent in exhaustion.

There was a woman there. For a moment, in his exhaustion, he didn't recognize her, and braced himself to cast some defensive spell if she made a hostile move.

“I can come back later if you're too tired to change me now,” she said. “General Vmandushu wants me to impersonate Mbavalash's aide-de-camp next; I managed to get a few strands of his hair for you to work with.”

“Good,” he said, finally recognizing her as one of the Fifth Army's spies, whom he'd given that body just three days ago. He couldn't remember her name at the moment, or whether she'd started out male or female when he or she enlisted, but he remembered designing that form and transforming her... “I can transform you now if necessary, but if it can wait till morning, that would be better.”

“All right. After being a woman for this long I don't feel any urgency about being a man again — tomorrow's fine.” So she was probably a man originally, then, but he still couldn't remember her name. The moment she left, Znembalan crawled onto his pallet and was asleep in moments.

---

He was at a conclave of wizards, apparently in the Town Hall in Tasunakh — he recognized the mural on the wall opposite the lectern he was standing behind. The faces arrayed before him were coolly unimpressed with his talk; more than a few were outright skeptical.

“Thus, it seems, a spell for transforming animals into plants, or vice versa, should be possible; I expect that my research into the semantics of animate structure should yield results soon.”

His conclusion was met with a stony silence. Finally, an old wizard in the front row said sarcastically, “Why should we credit your thaumaturgical hypotheses when you can't even remember to wear clothes to a conclave?”

It was true; he was wearing nothing. He looked around for something to hide behind, but the lectern was gone. He tried to transform into something which didn't need to wear clothes, but he couldn't see his own structure...

Someone else from the audience spoke up. “It's good to see you again, Znembalan, though I'd rather not see quite this much of you. Shall we go somewhere else to talk?” He looked; it was Psavian, back in the fourth row. Suddenly he realized he was dreaming. “Yes,” he said in relief, “let's go.” A few steps away from the lectern, and they were walking into the Aurochs' Head in Vmanashi. Znembalan was dressed again; he thought Psavian was wearing something different than he'd been wearing when they left the conclave, but he wasn't sure.

“Not that I don't enjoy talking with you,” he said, “but this had better be important. I don't rest well when I have one of your wizardly dreams, it's been a long, exhausting day, and tomorrow will be just as busy if not as dangerous.”

“I'm sorry,” Psavian said. “I'd heard rumors of the war, but I didn't know until yesterday that you were involved with it.”

“Who did you hear from?”

“Your daughter.”

“How? She doesn't know any communication magic, and she didn't say anything when we talked... Oh. Does this have to do with that young man you sent me last winter?”

“Yes.”

“He arrived at my home a while ago, I don't remember when exactly, and Kazmina contacted me to ask me what to do about him. I was in the middle of a staff meeting at the time, trying to explain to the general how the Compact doesn't allow me to change the enemy's camp followers into voles, and the spell I'd given her to contact me with doesn't last long, so I just told her to handle it herself. I'm sorry, I told you I'd take care of him, but that was before this war started.”

“Her method for dealing with him was unique and creative,” Psavian said, “if slightly unwise.” Znembalan detected an amused admiration. “She told him she would help him elope with Tsavila — ”

“What?”

“ — and, thus, having secured his cooperation, she brought him as far as Nilepsan, where she transformed him into a woman.”

“Oh. Yes, that would be effective, if she used my total transformation spell, which is actually easier than the purely somatic transformation...”

“Indeed. A look through her mind reveals that she — Tsavila's quondam suitor, I mean — is no longer in love with my daughter, and has in fact conceived a romantic passion for my youngest son, Verentsu. Since he is still unattached, this does not greatly displease me — however, I had to take quick action to prevent her from revealing her identity to him, or to my daughter.”

“Another geas?”

“Exactly.”

“That is a devious way to put him in his place. I suppose I would have just turned him into a vole or something.”

“Not into a shrubbery?”

Znembalan frowned. “You heard that stuff I was saying in the other dream? I'm nowhere near ready to try that on a human subject yet. I've been too busy with other things in the past few months to make any headway on my research.”

“Oh, well. I hope the war will be over soon and you will have time to perfect your new spell before the conclave next year... I have a couple of questions for you now, though.”

“What?”

“Does your nephew Ndeshisan have a daughter named Shalasan?”

“I haven't seen him in several years, but last I heard, he had no children. Why?”

“Your daughter introduced the transformed rascal as her cousin Shalasan daughter of Ndeshisan. I was wondering whether it would be possible to continue that charade indefinitely, with your cooperation — perhaps forging letters from your nephew giving her permission to settle in Niluri and marry, or something.”

“I doubt that would suit... Are you thinking of promoting a match between her and your son?”

“I would not be averse to it. However, there are potential problems if her true identity becomes known — will her family disown her for becoming a woman? If not, will they give her permission to marry my son and provide a suitable dowry? And most serious, how will knowledge of her true history affect my son and daughter?” He explained how he had practiced a deception on them when he compelled Tsavila's suitor to walk all the way from Nilepsan to Psavian's home.

“I see,” Znembalan said. “You're afraid of what they'll think of you when they find out?”

“Not afraid, exactly,” Psavian said. “But for a long time my relations with my sons were strained. They have improved lately, especially with Verentsu, and I would not have anything push us apart again.”

“Well... I'd advise you either get rid of the woman — send her away or let Kazmina turn her into a vole — or else confess your deception at once, and remove the geas. If you leave the geas in place and let her marry your son under false pretenses, she will be miserable, and your son can scarcely be happy with a miserable wife.”

“Perhaps... I will consider what you say.” Meaning he didn't like it and would try to find some way to ignore it.

“I had another question,” Psavian continued after a pause. “Is Kazmina betrothed? Or have you formed more definite plans for her since we spoke of this last?”

“No. She is old enough and sensible enough to have a say in the matter herself; we discussed it not long before I left home. Perhaps she will meet someone suitable at next year's conclave — or perhaps at Tsavila's wedding? How many other wizards will be there?”

“Fifteen, besides the bride and groom; of those, four are unmarried men.”

“Well, perhaps something will come of that.” Znembalan did not point out that Kazmina, with her powers, was not so limited in her options.

“Then... I will ask more boldly: would you object to my paying court to Kazmina myself?”

“Oh.” Znembalan was appalled, but of course this was natural enough from Psavian's point of view; Psavian's wife had died well over a year ago, and it had been clear that the impulsive passion which led him to marry her against his parents' wishes had cooled long ago, after she had borne him one son after another with no magical talent. It was natural he should want to marry again, and he didn't know who Kazmina's mother was. And Znembalan could hardly give his reason for hating the idea of her marrying Psavian without revealing things he'd much prefer to conceal... After a few moments' agonized thought, he decided that he must say, “You may court her. I trust you to do so with perfect decorum. But I think she is disinclined to marry someone so much older than herself.”

“Thank you.” Psavian looked off into space for a few moments. “In any event, your daughter is safe under my roof for the present. And, as she has had but few and brief opportunities to speak with you since you went off to war, I offered to link her dreams with yours tonight. She will be here soon.”

“Thank you.” Znembalan hadn't seen his daughter, except through the distorting eyes of a znasha bird, for five months. He resolved not to be angry with her for running off to Niluri with young Tsavila's lover — if he didn't trust her to take care of herself, he would have sent her to stay with his nephew during the war, rather than leaving her at home.

---

Launuru woke to a persistent plaintive crying. She sat up and looked around. The lamp by the door was lit, but turned down low, and a couple of women were standing in the doorway, whispering; one of them was holding a baby. When the nearer one took the baby in her arms and turned around, Launuru saw that it was Tsavila. Having taken Miretsi from her mother, Tsavila sat in a chair by the door, then seemed to be at a loss. Psilina, who had followed her into the room, took Miretsi back, whispering something. Tsavila pulled her shift over her head and tossed it over the other chair, then took Miretsi back and held her to her right breast; the baby quieted down and began nursing. After a few more words, Psilina left the room.

Launuru carefully crawled over the foot of the bed, trying not to wake Tsaikuno on her left or Kazmina on her right, and looked around. “Where's the chamber pot?” she whispered.

“Should be under the bed... probably on Tsaikuno's side?”

“I thought so, but... oh, here it is.” After emptying her bladder, she went to the shelf, found the rough clothes they'd bought at the Market-outside-the-Walls, and got dressed. “What do you think?” she whispered, sitting down next to Tsavila and looking at the baby. Miretsi was concentrating intently on Tsavila's nipple, the flicker of the lamp revealing her comically serious expression.

“What do I think of what...?” Tsavila sounded oddly nervous.

“Nursing.”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “It's interesting. She's rougher than I expected — it hurts a little, sometimes, though not badly.”

“Yes, her little teeth are starting to come in. Psilina said to push her forehead away gently if she grips too hard.”

“All right.” Tsavila was looking at her curiously. “We didn't have much chance to talk, earlier...”

“No.” Could she tell her now? Why not? She glanced toward the bed, to make sure Tsaikuno was asleep. She certainly appeared to be.

Before she could figure out where to start, Tsavila spoke again. “I'm sorry I was so short with you, earlier. I mean, when you asked me if Itsulanu was the first man I'd ever loved. I was...”

“You needn't apologize,” Launuru said; “I shouldn't have...”

“I want to tell you,” Tsavila interrupted. “So you'll understand. There was a young man — ” She looked away from Launuru, toward the lamp. “He was a friend of Verentsu's, a merchant's son; clever and sweet and good. Or so I thought. We met at my brother's name-day feast, and then saw each other several times when he came to visit Verentsu at home or when I went with Mother to meet Verentsu at the academy, and the sixth time we met, we walked in the garden after dinner, and he told me he loved me, and I said I loved him too. He started coming to see me secretly, whenever he could get away from the academy, and we came to an understanding: we would marry once he had completed his studies and had income to support me while I completed my wizardly training.”

Launuru wanted to tell her, but she couldn't bear to interrupt; and, too, she wanted to know why Tsavila had said earlier that Itsulanu was the first man who had really loved her. What made her think that?

“Then Father told me he was arranging a marriage for me — you understand, I didn't know Itsulanu yet, I'd met him once briefly when we were children and hadn't seen him since — and I told my lover; he said we should elope, and I agreed, and we made plans. But then he didn't come see me when I expected him. And I tried twice to talk to him in a dream, but it didn't work — I thought it was just because he wasn't asleep when I cast the spell, but then I asked Verentsu to give him a message for me, and he said he had disappeared from the academy. And then one of the scullery-maids at the academy was found to be with child, and she said he — my lover — was the father. She'd told him about the baby the day before he disappeared, which was the day after I saw him last.”

Launuru was stunned. Who could this scullery-maid be? He'd never lain with another woman since he met Tsavila, and hardly ever before that, either... She sat there open-mouthed. Tsavila looked back at her expectantly.

Miretsi started to fuss, and Tsavila shifted her to the other breast.

Before Launuru could figure out what to say, she heard a voice from behind her: “What a horrible man!” She turned. Tsaikuno was awake. How much had she heard?

“Keep your voice down, Tsaikuno,” Tsavila said. “Let's not wake Kazmina.”

“Sorry,” the girl said, rising from bed and padding over toward them. “But I get so mad thinking about how he took advantage of you!”

“But are you sure,” Launuru finally managed to say, “are you sure that the rumor you heard was true? Perhaps the scullery-maid was lying — ”

“I thought of that later,” Tsavila said. “Servants will tell any lie to save themselves a beating, or from being discharged. There didn't seem to be any reason for the girl to lie, though — she was discharged without pay for having relations with one of the students, and she would have suffered less if she'd claimed the father was a peddler or a farmhand. And if she was lying to protect the baby's real father, who was rich and promised to take care of her and the baby after she lost her post, that still doesn't explain why my lover disappeared just after we planned to elope.”

“Itsulanu would never do something like that,” Tsaikuno said, pulling her shift over her head.

“I don't know,” Launuru lied. She couldn't tell Tsavila now, with Tsaikuno awake and listening, but she had to say something... “He might have been on his way to see you, and met with some misfortune. Perhaps he was waylaid by thieves, or fell in the river...?” She hesitated to speak too plainly with Tsaikuno listening, but this might get Tsavila thinking about what misfortune was really most likely to befall a man who courted a wizard's daughter against the wizard's wishes.

“I don't see why you're so eager to defend him,” Tsaikuno said.

“Someone has to defend him, since he can't defend himself,” Launuru said helplessly. “I mean, you don't have any evidence but the word of a servant of loose morals.”

“I'm not condemning him,” Tsavila said, and Launuru blinked in surprise. “Maybe he did as the servant said, maybe not. Either way, I fear he did meet with some misfortune, for the last I heard his family had not heard from him either. But wine can't be pressed into grapes. I met Itsulanu when I was angry and sad, and he comforted me. Now in less than three days he is to be my husband, and that makes me happier than I can say. I wish my sometime lover may be happy wherever he is; I forgive him.”

“You're a wonderful person,” Launuru said, blinking back tears.

“She's daft, isn't she, Miretsi?” Tsaikuno said, bending over and kissing the baby on the back of the head. “I wish the scoundrel could be sold into slavery to pay for his bastard's upbringing. But Tsavila's an old softie.”

“I think she's asleep,” Tsavila said, after everyone had been silent for a long moment. “I'm getting sleepy too.”

“I'm still wide awake,” Launuru said. “What about if I put her back to bed and let you get some rest? You'll be busier than the rest of us tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She gently handed Miretsi to Launuru, who left the room, walking across the hall to the room that used to be Tsavila's. The other women and children were asleep. Launuru laid Miretsi down in her crib and covered her with the quilt, then waited a few moments to make sure she wasn't going to wake again.

When she returned across the hall, Tsavila was in bed and Tsaikuno was pacing the floor. “I'm not sleepy either,” she said. “Do you want to play It's of Both Kinds?”

“Sure,” Launuru said. “Maybe in the hall or the parlor, so we don't keep Tsavila awake or wake up Kazmina?” Tsaikuno picked up the lamp and left the room; Launuru followed her.

“Your clothes are a thing made of cotton, and a thing that's out of place,” Tsaikuno said as they descended the stairs.

“What?”

“Wrong play; you lose a point. I mean they don't fit you. Is that a man's tunic and trousers you've got on?”

“They were. Kazmina changed them into women's clothes by magic, but I guess the spell wore off. Remember, we were traveling as birds and had to get new clothes every time we changed into humans again.” She followed Tsaikuno down the corridor away from the parlor, wondering where they were going.

“That must have been embarrassing. Did you flap down into a yard where someone had hung out their wash and turn into humans and then get dressed fast in stolen clothes, hoping no one saw you?”

“No, although that might have been a good idea. Kazmina conjured some clothes out of dead grass that just lasted a few hours, and then we bought some cheap clothes and she altered them by magic; then, when we had time to earn more money, we had some nice dresses made and bought shoes.”

“Okay. It's still your turn.”

“Right. Um, the milk in my breasts is a thing that's out of place, and a thing to drink.” In the dim light it was hard to be sure, but she thought this got a blush from Tsaikuno. They'd reached the kitchen.

After they had scrounged some bread and cheese and played It's of Both Kinds for a while, Tsaikuno decided she was sleepy again. Launuru still didn't feel sleepy, but didn't want to wander around the house by herself either. Tsavila was sound asleep next to Kazmina, who appeared to have slept like a hibernating bear through all their doings. After undressing, Tsaikuno snuffed the lamp and crawled in next to them, and Launuru crawled in next to her. She still lay awake long after Tsaikuno's breathing became slow and regular.

---

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.