“Take off that silly disguise, Verentsu, and tell me what's going on! And you, Shalasan — if that's really your name — what are you doing here?”

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Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes

by Trismegistus Shandy

Part 22 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.

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Kazmina still hadn't gotten enough sleep when Launuru came to tell her it was time for dinner. When she reached the parlor, she stopped on the threshold and took a deep breath, looking at Psavian — at her father — from a few meters away before she entered the room and sat at his side.

Seeing him and knowing who he was felt so strange. It was just as well that she couldn't treat him as her father in front of the others, because if she could, she wasn't sure she would want to. He had apparently begotten her, but that was all. Of course it wasn't entirely his fault that he hadn't been fatherly to her when she was little; Daddy — her mother — had to bear the blame for keeping her own identity secret during her affair with Psavian and for keeping his daughter's existence secret from her father. Both of them did wrong, Daddy in lying with a married man and Znembalan in cheating on his wife. But she couldn't justly resent a misdeed that was necessary to her own existence.

In the dream she had said to Daddy that he'd been both daddy and mommy to her; that was true. And not only because he'd been a woman maybe a third of the time when she was growing up; he'd done everything for her that other children's daddies or mommies did for them, providing for her, teaching her mundane skills as well as magic, rocking her in his arms when she woke sobbing from a nightmare, and even teaching her — by example! — how to deal with her monthly. She'd even wondered, as she got older, if he might have been her mother, though she hadn't thought it likely. But she'd never questioned that her other parent, whether her Daddy was the one who begot her or the one who bore her, had been a barbarian wizard whom he'd met during his years of wandering. She'd spun elaborate fantasies about how Daddy had married her mother and lived with her in some tiny barbarian kingdom far south of Maresh, until she died in childbirth with their first and only daughter, and then, in grief, he'd left his dead wife's country and its painful reminders and returned to his own... though she'd thought, in her more serious moments, that it was more likely they'd never been married, and that their passion simply wasn't deep enough to hold them together.

Psavian seemed nearly as distracted, during the first part of dinner, as she was, but Setsikuno drew him out. They spoke mostly in Ksiluri for a while, then switched to Rekhim, seeming to want to include her; but when she showed herself too distracted to contribute much to the conversation, they switched back to Ksiluri. At last dinner was over, and soon after rising from the table, they were ready to leave. Psavian bowed, embraced Tetsivamo, and kissed the ladies' hands.

“Shall we meet in dreams again soon?” he said to Kazmina, as Tetsivamo was helping his wife into the carriage. “I would like to tell your father when you have arrived safely in Nesantsai and settled in.”

“Yes,” she said quietly, “we'll have much to talk about. Four nights hence? That should be my second night in Tetsivamo and Setsikuno's house.”

“Until then...” He glanced around, and seeing that no one else was near enough to hear, whispered: “my daughter.”

Kazmina didn't trust herself to speak. She bowed and approached the carriage; Tetsivamo gave her his arm as she climbed in next to Launuru, and they were off.

Setsikuno's magic made the carriage ride smoother than any she'd ever enjoyed. Kazmina chatted desultorily with the older wizard for a while, but fell asleep after half an hour or so. She woke to find they'd stopped at an inn — not the same one they'd stopped at when traveling hither with Verentsu and his brothers. Tetsivamo was standing just outside the carriage, speaking with the driver and then leaning in to talk to his wife. Setsikuno nodded, then said to Kazmina in Rekhim:

“If you can wait until we reach the Jolly Armadillo to use the garderobe, you should. We're watering the horses here, but this isn't a good place for ladies to get out.”

“That's fine.” She hadn't drunk much with dinner; to be sure she could last as long as necessary she looked inward and expanded her bladder's capacity a little, then discreetly did the same favor for Launuru.

At the Jolly Armadillo, a few hours later, they used the garderobe while the horses were being watered, and paused to eat a little bread and cheese before pressing on again. They reached the city gate just before sunset; it was well after dark when they reached their inn.

---

The Peacock's Hat was in Temple Square, across West Avenue from the temple of Psunavan. The temple facade was lit up with hundreds of torches, incidentally illuminating the inn, carriage house and other buildings across the way as Launuru alighted from the carriage behind Setsikuno and Kazmina.

“I've arranged for us to sup in a private room,” Tetsivamo said. Launuru had only a brief glimpse of the common room as they passed through it to the room Tetsivamo had reserved. She looked around for Verentsu, but didn't see him. The people she saw were well-dressed and well-mannered, as befitted one of the finest inns in the city — probably four or five times more expensive than the Blue Frog, where Launuru and Kazmina had stayed when they first arrived. Most were Viluri, but she also saw a few Vemaretsu men in tasseled silk tunics and a hairy-faced Islander in a striped robe and tall feathered hat. Several of them looked curiously at the new arrivals before returning their attention to their supper and table-mates.

The travelers ate quietly, all of them being tired, and Launuru, at least, being distracted and anxious. Their carriage driver came and went several times, conferring in a low voice with Tetsivamo. Finally, some of the inn servants showed them to their rooms — two adjacent bedrooms on the second storey.

“I suppose we'll have to look for him tomorrow,” Kazmina said when they were alone in their room, having bidden their hosts good night.

“It looks like it,” Launuru said glumly.

Just then one of the maidservants returned with the candles and linens they had requested. As she set them down on the bed, she looked at the young women hesitantly and finally said: “Is one of you the daughter of Rusaulan?”

“I am,” Launuru replied, her heart pounding.

“Beg pardon, ma'am, but there's a foreign gentleman said to give you this.” She took a folded slip of paper from her belt. “If it's not welcome, I'll tell the innkeeper and he'll make the foreigner leave you alone.”

“No, give it to me.” Launuru snatched the paper from her hands and held it close to the candle on the bedside table to read it.

“I am the Islander in the common room. If you can't meet me tonight, I'll be here early tomorrow and as often as I can throughout the day.

“ — V.”

“He's here,” Launuru said excitedly to Kazmina in Tuaznu.

“Shall I give him an answer?” the servant asked.

“Tell him — tell him I'll be there soon.” The servant looked disapproving, but bowed and withdrew.

“Change me now,” Launuru said.

“What did he say?” Kazmina asked.

“He's in the common room — he was already there when we arrived. He's disguised as an Islander — ”

Kazmina's eyes widened.

“So you're ready to meet with him? Now, in the common room?”

“When or where else?”

“All right.” Kazmina looked intently at her and said, abstractedly, “You wanted me to make you look like a sister of your old self, right?”

“Yes, more or less. Not exactly like one of my sisters, that would be confusing, but — ”

“I couldn't do that if I wanted to, since I've never met them; unless I got really lucky, or unlucky as the case may be... Just a moment.”

The pain was much less this time, and only her face and breasts hurt much; she also felt a momentary itching on her scalp and all over. “Is it done?”

“I think so.” Kazmina picked up one of the candles the servant had set on the bed, lit it from the larger candle on the bedside table, and held it up to Launuru's face.

“You look about right to me. See for yourself,” she said, offering the candle.

The Peacock's Hat boasted mirrors in all of its guest rooms; Launuru took the candle and approached the mirror hanging opposite the bed. Kazmina picked up the other candle from the bedside table and brought it over to give better light.

Launuru didn't think she looked quite like one of her sisters; if she saw this face on someone at a family gathering, she'd guess they were one of her cousins whom she hadn't seen since they were children. But it wouldn't be absurd for her parents to to introduce her as their daughter, either; and more importantly, no one would see this face and think of Kazmina's cousin “Shalasan”. Her breasts were just slightly smaller than before, probably the effect of Kazmina undoing the milk-spell. Her skin was a shade darker than it had been when she was Shalasan, and her hair was back to its original dark brown, but her figure was essentially the same as it had been for the last six days.

“This is perfect,” she said. “Thank you so much.” She set the candle down and embraced Kazmina.

Kazmina looked at her with a curious expression. “Are you quite sure this is what you want? I'll be going on to Nesantsai — if you want to be your old self again, this is your last chance.”

“Oh, no. Not that.”

“Then let's go.”

“Let's?”

“I'm going with you to meet him.”

Launuru bundled up her clothes and money, and they slipped as quietly as they could out of their room and down the hall to the stairs. A little later they entered the common room. There had been few women present when they passed through on their arrival; at this time of night it was all men. Every eye in the room turned toward them.

The Islander, who was sitting near the door they'd entered by, stood up and bowed to them. “Ladies,” he said, and Launuru thrilled as she recognized Verentsu's voice. But his disguise was quite good; the false hair concealed most of his face, and the rest of his exposed skin had been darkened somehow.

“Good evening,” she said, uncertain what to say in front of all these men. “Are you ready?”

“Whenever you are.” He looked at Kazmina. “Will... your cousin also accompany us?”

“Um,” Launuru said, and asked Kazmina what she thought.

“Where exactly are you going tonight?” Kazmina asked. “To another inn, or to Psavian's city house, or what? I need to be back here before Setsikuno or Tetsivamo wake up tomorrow — ”

Just then Launuru heard a woman's voice from behind them: Setsikuno, saying something indignant in Rekhim.

---

The hair glued to his face had been itching all afternoon, and it was getting noticeably worse as he waited for the servant he'd bribed to give Launuru his note. Fortunately, his companions in the common room were no more inclined to talk than he was.

At last, well over an hour after he'd seen Launuru and her companions arrive, and at least a quarter of an hour after the servant had whispered to him that she would be there “soon,” two women emerged from the door to the stairwell. One was Kazmina; the other resembled Launuru's old self far more than “Shalasan” had, though she didn't quite look like her sister as she'd said she would. He was sure it was her, though.

But he had scarcely exchanged two words with her when Setsikuno entered the room and spoke sharply to Kazmina in Rekhim. His heart pounded. Hopefully Kazmina would be able to talk her way out of it without involving them —

No, apparently not. Kazmina had barely gotten a word in when Setsikuno switched languages, saying to him: “Take off that silly disguise, Verentsu, and tell me what's going on! And you, Shalasan — if that's really your name — what are you doing here?”

He sighed. “It will take time, ma'am — perhaps this isn't the place — ”

“Indeed it's not. Come with me, all three of you.”

He exchanged looks with Launuru and Kazmina. “We'd better explain,” Launuru said to him. “But you'll have to do it, because I promised not to.”

“Very well. Lead the way.”

They followed Setsikuno up the stairs to one of the more luxurious guest rooms. Once the door was shut, the older wizard spoke to Kazmina again in Rekhim; she replied, then said something to Launuru in Tuaznu, speaking too fast for Verentsu to catch it. Launuru said in turn in Ksiluri: “I'm sorry, ma'am, but Kazmina and I both promised Psavian we wouldn't tell. But you already know so much, and we need to explain so you won't think we're doing something wrong — Verentsu will have to tell you, since he hasn't given his word not to tell you about this.”

“Well,” he began, then hesitated. How much did he need to tell her? He wasn't under an oath of secrecy like Launuru and apparently Kazmina, but the less of his family's sordid secrets he revealed the better.

“So, I suppose you've figured out that this isn't actually Kazmina's cousin Shalasan...”

“I suspected it before; now I'm sure. Who is she?”

“No one you know. Kazmina disguised her so she could come to the wedding — I'd rather not say who she really is, but she didn't want her family to know she'd come. Her parents had a falling-out with my father some years ago, but she was a close friend of Tsavila before that, and she wanted very much to see her married. I'm going to escort her home tomorrow.”

Setsikuno looked at him. “Take that false face off before you say anything else,” she said. “I can't tell if you're lying, with all that hair around your mouth.”

“Ah... can we send for some hot water and soap?”

Setsikuno pulled the bell-cord to summon one of the inn servants. “You don't need to conceal so much from me,” she said to Launuru. “I never see anyone in Psavian's circle, except when he invites me to something like your friend's wedding. I won't tell anyone you defied your parents to come to Tsavila's wedding — it's the sort of thing I would have done. Ha! It's just the sort of thing I did, only it was my own wedding that I defied my parents in order to attend! But you should have an older woman escort you home, girl, not Verentsu. He's a nice young man, but it's not seemly for you to travel alone with him like that. Tell me who you are and where you live, and I'll escort you home as discreetly as you could wish, tomorrow while Tetsivamo is seeing to business.”

Launuru hesitated. “I can tell you who I am if you promise not to tell anyone that I was Shalasan, or ask me anything I've promised not to tell.”

“Oh... that's right, you said you'd promised Psavian not to tell anyone about something. That doesn't add up. Did he connive at you coming to Tsavila's wedding in defiance of your parents...?”

“He... he was angry at first, but then he laughed it off and said he'd help us keep it all secret if we didn't tell anyone how he helped us.”

“Hmm. All right, I promise not to tell anyone, if you've done nothing worse than attend the wedding under an assumed name...”

Just then the servant Setsikuno had summoned arrived. She asked her to bring soap, washcloths, and hot water. Once she had gone, Setsikuno resumed:

“Spit it out; who are you?”

Launuru took a deep breath. “My name is Launuru. My father is Rusaulan of Rivergate; my mother is Launasila.”

“Launuru is an unusual name for a girl.”

“That's because I wasn't born a girl.”

Setsikuno's eyes widened; she looked at Kazmina and asked her something in Rekhim. Kazmina spoke with Launuru in Tuaznu, too fast for Verentsu to follow, and Launuru turned her eyes to Verentsu, looking confused and trapped. He wanted to embrace her, but he didn't think it suited. Not here, not now.

“How much can I tell her, Verentsu?”

Verentsu wasn't sure what Kazmina might have already said to Setsikuno; he didn't want to say anything that would contradict her. But he had to say something. A large fraction of the truth would probably be safe enough. “Remember, ma'am, you promised not to tell anyone... Launuru went to Kazmina to have her disguise him so he could come to Tsavila's wedding. But she's decided she likes being a woman better than being a man, so now she asked Kazmina not to return her to her original form, but to make her a Viluri woman.”

“Aiie! Young people nowadays! But what use is my promising not to tell? If you're taking her home to her parents... How long can you keep it secret, who she used to be or what happened to him?”

“It's not to be a secret that I was a man and am now a woman,” Launuru said; “but how it happened, and that the 'Shalasan' who attended Tsavila's wedding was really me, and... some other things I promised Psavian not to tell anyone about... I can't tell anyone, and I beg you not to tell anyone the parts of it you know, or to ask me the parts we haven't told you.”

Just then, the servant returned with a basin of hot water and several washcloths. Once she was gone, Verentsu began to remove the false hair from his face.

“So,” Launuru resumed, “we've been talking about what story to tell my family and other people who knew me before, but we haven't decided yet.”

“Very well. I wish Psavian had confided in me about all this before he entrusted you girls to my care; I will have words with him in due course. But for now, we must arrange for you to return home, yes? I still say it does not suit for Verentsu to escort you, at least not alone; I will accompany you tomorrow.”

Verentsu and Launuru looked at one another. “Is that agreeable to you?” he asked. “I know it's not what we planned, but... I think she's probably right. You need to think about your reputation.”

“Please,” Launuru said, “I need you there too. I guess she can come, it might help to have an older person along to help explain — and to help us think of a good explanation — but I need you.”

“All right,” Verentsu said. “I'll meet you all here early tomorrow, and we'll all go to Launuru's family's home.”

“Very well,” Setsikuno said. “Good night.” She looked pointedly at Verentsu. He clasped Launuru's hand for a long moment, wishing he dared do more, then bowed to the ladies and bade them good night.

---

Verentsu had hardly been gone from the room three heartbeats when Setsikuno said:

“I promised I wouldn't ask you for more than you offered to tell me, but if you want to tell me what's going on between you and Verentsu, it's not impossible that an old woman like myself may have some useful advice.”

Launuru felt her cheeks getting hotter. She thought fast. Well, her love for Verentsu wasn't going to remain secret long, either; and as long as they had to trust Setsikuno not to talk about her masquerading as Shalasan, it wouldn't hurt to tell her a little more, as long as it didn't violate her promise not to talk about her courtship of Tsavila or Psavian's exile geas...

“I suppose you've noticed, then, that we're — very partial to each other — ”

“I'd have to be blind not to. You seemed to cool off a bit yesterday, after making lovers' eyes at one another the day before, but just now — well, that's part of why I insisted you not be alone with him tonight. You'll probably have quite enough difficulty with your family, telling them you've become a woman, without them suspecting that you've disgraced yourself with a man as well.”

“Oh. I was — I'm nervous about meeting them again, yes. I didn't want to do it alone, and Verentsu promised to come with me to help me tell them what happened — or as much of it as I'm allowed to tell anyone — and he's going to ask them for permission to court me.”

“Well, I'll do what I can to help. You say you aren't sure what to tell them?”

“Yes. Kazmina and Tsavila and I talked about it, but we didn't come to any definite conclusion.”

Setsikuno spoke with Kazmina in Rekhim, and after a little while Kazmina said in Tuaznu: “I've told her our ideas for what might have happened to you — ” and Setsikuno said in Ksiluri: “What's this about you having been gone from your family for the last six months?”

“You promised not to ask,” Launuru said, looking away in embarrassment.

“All right. So you've been gone for six months, and you return home a woman; you can't tell them the truth, for reasons you can't tell me, and you want me to help you devise a plausible story...?”

“That's just it.”

“Well, suppose you simply tell them you can't remember? One day in Winter you're going about your business, whatever that was, and the next thing you know, it's Autumn of the following year and you're a woman. There are no details to keep track of, so you can't be caught in an inconsistency.”

Launuru thought. “That makes sense. Thank you.” Setsikuno and Kazmina spoke in Rekhim again, then the older woman said: “Let's go to bed now. Stay here — I'll know if you leave the room during the night.” She left.

“Did she tell you her idea?” Launuru said, as they undressed for bed.

“Yes,” Kazmina said. “It's a good one; I wish I'd thought of it.”

“But there's still a detail or two to work out: where was I when I suddenly regained my knowledge of myself and realized what had happened to me, and how is it that Verentsu and Setsikuno are escorting me home?”

“What about this: you came to yourself walking down a street here in Nilepsan. You were frightened of course, and wanted to go instantly to the nearest friend — and you were closer to Psavian's house than to your family's home, so you went there. You found Verentsu, and he, thinking you needed a woman's help as well, called upon Setsikuno, his father's old friend, whom he knew to be in the city.”

“I think that works. Except... how can Verentsu and I tell my parents that we want to marry, if...?”

“Perhaps you should save that for later. Give them time to get used to you being a woman, first.”

“Perhaps you're right.”

They laid down and were silent for a while.

“I want to thank you again,” Launuru said quietly. “You've been such a good friend through all this — I might be dead or worse if you hadn't freed me from that first geas, and then you didn't just free me, but took such risks to help me... Now I'm afraid I won't see you again, and I want to thank you properly, and I don't know how.”

“I think you will see me again,” Kazmina said. “Your father-in-law to be is my — my old friend's father; your bridegroom is my friend's brother; and I'll be living in Niluri for months, perhaps years to come. I'm sure we'll see one another again. But perhaps you shouldn't be so profuse with your thanks — I meant well, but I'm afraid I botched it terribly, over and over, and it's mostly luck that things have turned out as well for you as they have.”

“Oh, but you give yourself too little credit. Just yesterday, your intercession with Psavian got me the indemnity that Tsavila had asked for but he'd hesitated to give. And you weren't the only one, of course; Tsavila and Verentsu and several servants and slaves helped a lot, and most of all the gods and ancestors — ” One ancestor in particular, but she still wasn't sure it made sense to talk about her. “But it would never have happened without you. Thank you again.”

“I'm happy for you,” Kazmina said. “Good night.”

They spoke no more that night. Though Launuru heard Kazmina's snores long before she fell asleep, she was too happy thinking of the morning, and of seeing her family, and of Verentsu, to be annoyed. Her parents would be shocked, but she was sure they would be more happy to see her again than saddened by her change; they might be stubborn at first when she and Verentsu confessed their love, but she was sure they would give in eventually. And if not — well, they could always elope.

The end

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This novel is also available from Lulu.com as a trade paperback and a PDF ebook, from Amazon in Kindle format, and from Smashwords in EPUB format. It will continue to be available for free here on BigCloset, but the Kindle and EPUB editions have a map, a Cast of Characters, and some other supplementary material that is not in the free serial version (or the Lulu.com edition).

If you enjoyed reading the free serial version, I would appreciate it if you also left a review of it on Amazon and/or Smashwords.

When Wasps Make Honey, the sequel to Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes, is also available from Amazon in Kindle format and from Smashwords in EPUB format. I have no plans to post it on BigCloset or other such sites in the near future, though I may post an excerpt from it.