Harry Turtledove - Jaws of Darkness

Everything went well till the seventh mage, another woman, turned the water to ice instead of boiling it. “What did I do wrong?” she asked anxiously.

“I think it was your pass in the second versicle,” Fernao answered. “The motion needs to be across and then under, and I believe you went over with your left hand. Try again, please.” The woman did, and succeeded. After all had gone through the demonstration, Fernao dismissed them and went looking for Pekka.

He found her in the refectory, eating a sandwich made of a round, chewy roll, smoked salmon, a sliced gherkin, and onions. She looked tired. She was teaching practical mages, too, as well as doing the administrative work for the project. She nodded to him as he came up. “Hello,” she said. “You have something on your mind. I can see it.”

“So I do.” Fernao nodded. He looked around. The refectory was crowded with practical mages, a lot of whom he’d never seen before. “When you’re done here, can we go someplace quiet and talk?”

Pekka hesitated. Fernao winced. She hadn’t come knocking at his door after they’d made love that once. He hadn’t knocked on hers, either, however much he’d wanted to. “About what?” she asked at last.

“Something important I don’t want to talk about here,” he answered, “but notthat, in case you were wondering.”

“All right. I trust you.” But Pekka’s voice held doubt-she still had to be wondering whether he’d planned to seduce her when he’d invited her to his chamber. She finished the odorous sandwich in a few bites, took a gulp of tea to wash it down, and stood. “Come to my chamber with me, then.”

When they got there, Pekka sat down on the bed. Fernao would have liked to sit beside her, but didn’t think she would like it if he did. He perched on the stool instead. Even as Pekka raised a questioning eyebrow, he asked, “Why are all the mages we’re training Kuusamans? Why aren’t there any Lagoans?”

“Ah.” Pekka visibly relaxed. Thatwas important, and it had nothing to do with their going to bed with each other. She ticked off points on her fingers. “Item-the spells are in Kuusaman. Until they get translated into classical Kaunian or Lagoan, my folk will have an advantage. Item-even if that weren’t so, your Guild of Mages hasn’t sent any sorcerers for training. Item- the Algarvians would have an easier time planting a spy among Lagoans, because you are also an Algarvic people. Shall I go on?”

Those were all good reasons. Fernao wished he could have argued otherwise. He said, “You do understand why I’m worrying? If your mages all learn these spells and my countrymen don’t, who has the advantage if we quarrel after the war?”

“Aye, I see that,” Pekka answered. “The first two points can and should be addressed. I don’t know how you can help looking like Algarvians, though.” She winked at him.

He grinned; she hadn’t done anything like that since they became lovers, and the only reason he could think of that she hadn’t was that she didn’t want to encourage him. But the grin didn’t last. He said, “If we had more Lagoan mages here, the problem of translating the spells would be smaller. Your people have not seemed to want to let my countrymen join me, though.”

With candor that surprised him, she said, “We aren’t very eager, no. You worry about what Kuusamo might do. Here, we worry about what Lagoas might do.”

“Why?” Fernao asked. “You’re bigger than we are. Nothing we can do will change that.”

“Bigger, aye, but with this spell even a small kingdom will be able to wreak havoc on its neighbors. And”-Pekka’s nose wrinkled-”Lagoans are Lagoans, after all. Who can guess what you people will do next?”

“You’re right, of course.” Fernao slid down off the stool, took two steps forward, gave her a quick kiss, and backed away again while she was still letting out a startled squeak. He was glad his leg had healed enough to let him move fairly fast; she might have hit him had he lingered.

As things were, she shook her head and said, “Fernao,” in such a way that his name couldn’t mean anything but, Iwish you hadn’t done that.

He didn’t wish he hadn’t done it. He wished he’d done more: “Pekka,” he said, and got that into her name, too.

She shook her head. She’d heard what he meant, just as he’d heard her. “It’s no good,” she said. “It’s no good at all.”

“That’s not what you thought then,” Fernao answered. He was in no doubt whatever about that.

Pekka didn’t try to deny it. Instead, she said, “That makes it worse, not better. I was stupid. Now everybody’s life is more complicated than it would have been.”

“But-” Fernao struggled for words. He’d never tried dealing with a woman who’d enjoyed going to bed with him but still didn’t want to do it again.

Pekka shook her head again. “No. Itwas good, but that isn’t enough.” She held up a hand before he could snort in disbelief or do anything else in like vein. “Itisn’t. For you, maybe, but, for one thing, you’re a man, and-”

“Thank you so much,” he said.

She talked right through him: “-and, for another, you’re not a married man. Your life isn’tso much more complicated than it was before. Mine is.”

Fernao started to protest. But what complicated his life, at the moment, was Pekka’s unwillingness to sleep with him again. Somehow, he didn’t think that would impress her.

She sighed and said, “If I weren’t happy with Leino, that would be something different. But I am. It’s just that we were apart too long. Sometimes your body can make you stupid. I think it happens more easily with men, but it happens to women, too.”

“I suppose so,” Fernao said dully. He didn’t much care to be reckoned no more than the object of her stupidity.

Pekka pointed a finger at him. “Maybe we ought to get more Lagoans to the hostel here, after all. I know how Lagoans think about my people. If you had those tall, round Lagoan women here, you wouldn’t look twice at me.”

But now Fernao shook his head. “I started wishing I could meet you back when I was reading your journal articles, before you Kuusamans stopped publishing all of a sudden. It isn’t just that I think you’re beautiful…” He hadn’t quite intended to say that, which didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

Pekka looked down at the floor directly between her feet. In a very small voice, she said, “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”

“I’m sorry.” Fernao shook his head. He wasn’t sorry. He was about as far from sorry as he could be, and wanted to make things as hard as he could. Most of all, he wanted to bed her again, and again, and again, and let whatever happened afterwards take care of itself.

That must have been very plain. Pekka said, “I think you’d better go.” She laughed-briefly. “In the romances, I’d throw yourself into your arms now, either because you were here and my husband wasn’t or because you made me so passionate, I couldn’t help myself. But life isn’t always like the romances. Youdid make me passionate-I’d be lying if I said anything else. It’s not enough, though, and I’m not going to let it be enough. I know where I belong.”

He heard the finality in that. He wished he were so sure of such things. He didn’t see that he could do anything but what she asked now. She looked relieved when he got up and started for the door. Relieved he was going? Or relieved he wasn’t making her make hard choices? He wished he could believe the latter. Every fiber of him wanted to. Every nerve ending he had told him he’d be wrong if he did.

If only I hadn’tbeen after anything but seducing her, he thought as his hand fell on the latch. But if there were two more dismal words thanif only in Lagoan-or Kuusaman, or classical Kaunian, or any other language-he was cursed if he knew what they were.