Guy Kay - Tigana

They quickly put a meal together. Back in the front room Alais helped at the sideboard and then listened and watched from her favorite chair next to the fire. Later she had genuine cause to bless Selvena's shamelessness. None of the rest of them would have dreamt of asking their guests to sing.

This time she could see the singers so she kept her eyes open. Devin sang directly to her once near the end and Alais, her color furiously rising, forced herself not to look away. For the rest of that last song about Eanna naming the stars she found her mind straying into channels unusual for her, the sort of thing Selvena speculated about at night all the time, in detail. Alais hoped they would all attribute her color to the warmth of the fire.

She did wonder about one thing though, having been an observer of people for most of her life. There was something between Devin and Catriana, but it certainly wasn't love, or even tenderness as she understood either of those things. They would look at each other from time to time, usually when the other was unaware, and the glances would be more challenging than anything else. She reminded herself again that the world of these people was farther removed from her own than she could even imagine.

The younger ones said their good nights. Selvena doing so with a highly suspicious lack of protest, and touching, shockingly, fingertip to palm with both men in farewell. Alais caught a glance from her father, and a moment later she rose when her mother did.

It was impulse, nothing more, that led her to invite Catriana to come up with her. Immediately the words were spoken, she realized how they must sound to the other woman, someone so independent

and obviously at ease in the company of men. Alais flinched inwardly at her own provincial clumsiness, and braced herself for a rebuff. Catriana's smile, though, was all graciousness as she stood.

"It will remind me of home," she said.

Thinking about that as the two of them went up the stairs past the lamps in their brackets and the wall-hangings her grandfather had brought back south from a voyage to Khardhun years and years ago, Alais tried to fathom what would lead a girl her own age to venture out among the rough and tumble of long roads and uncertain lodging. Of late nights and men who would surely assume that if she was among them she had to be available. Alais tried, but she honestly couldn't grasp it. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, something generous in her spirit opened out toward the other woman.

"Thank you for the music," she said shyly.

"Small return for your kindness," Catriana said lightly.

"Not as small as you think," Alais said. "Our room is over here. I'm glad this reminds you of home… I hope it is a good memory." That was probing a little, but not rudely she hoped. She wanted to talk to this woman, to be friends, to learn what she could about a life so remote from her own.

They stepped into the large bedroom. Menka had the fire going already and the two bedspreads turned back. The deep-piled quilts were new this autumn, more contraband brought back by Rovigo from Quileia where winters were so much harsher than here.

Catriana laughed a little under her breath, her eyebrows arching as she surveyed the chamber. "Sharing a room does. This is rather more than I knew in a fisherman's cottage." Alais flushed, fearful of having offended, but before she could speak Catriana turned to her, eyes still very wide, and said casually, "Tell me, will we need to tie your sister down? She seems to be in heat and I'm worried about the two men surviving the night."

Alais went from feeling spoiled and insensitive to red-faced shock in one second. Then she saw the quick smile on the other woman's face and she laughed aloud in a release of anxiety and guilt.

"She's just terrible isn't she? She's vowed to kill herself in some dreadfully dramatic way if she isn't married by the Festival next year."

Catriana shook her head. "I knew some girls like her at home. I've met a few on the road, too. I've never been able to understand it."

"Nor I," said Alais a little too quickly. Catriana glanced at her.

Alais ventured a hesitant smile. "I guess that's a thing we have in common?"

"One thing," the other woman said indifferently, turning away. She strolled over to one of the woven pieces on the wall. "This is nice enough," she said, fingering it. "Where did your father find it?"

"I made it," Alais said shortly. She felt patronized suddenly, and it irritated her.

It must have shown in her voice, for Catriana looked quickly back over her shoulder. The two women exchanged a look in silence. Catriana sighed. "I'm hard to make friends with," she said at length. "I doubt it's worth your effort."

"No effort," said Alais quietly. "Besides," she ventured, "I may need your help tying Selvena down later."

Surprised, Catriana chuckled. "She'll be all right," she said, sitting on one of the beds. "Neither of them will touch her while they are guests in your father's house. Even if she slithers into their room wearing nothing but a single red glove."

Shocked for the second time, but finding the sensation oddly enjoyable, Alais giggled and sat down on her own bed, dangling her legs over the side. Catriana's feet, she noticed ruefully, easily reached the carpet.

"She just might do that," she whispered, grinning at the image. "I think she even has a red glove hidden somewhere!"

Catriana shook her head. "Then it's roping her down like a heifer or trusting the men, I guess. But as I say, they won't do anything."

"You know them very well, I suppose," Alais hazarded. She still wasn't sure whether any given remark would earn her a rebuff or elicit a smile. This was not, she was discovering, an easy woman to deal with.

"Alessan, I know better," Catriana said. "But Devin's been on the road a long time and I have no doubt he knows the rules." She glanced away briefly as she said that last, her own color a little high.

Still wary of another rejection Alais said cautiously, "I have no idea about that, actually. Are there rules? Do any of them… do you have problems when you travel?"

Catriana shrugged. "The kind of problems your sister's longing to find? Not from the musicians. There's an unwritten code, or else the companies would only get a certain kind of woman to tour and that would hurt the music. And the music really does matter to most of the troupes. The ones that last, anyway. Men can be quite badly hurt for bothering a girl too much. Certainly they'll never find work if it happens too often."

"I see," said Alais, trying to imagine it.

"You are expected to pair off with someone though," Catriana added. "As if it's the least you can do. Remove yourself as a temptation. So you find a man you like, or some of the girls find a woman, of course. There's a fair bit of that, too."

"Oh," said Alais, clasping her hands in her lap.

Catriana, who was really much too clever by half, flashed a glance of mingled amusement and malice. "Don't worry," she said sweetly, looking pointedly at where Alais's hands had settled like a barrier. "That glove doesn't fit me."

Abruptly Alais put her hands to either side of her, blushing furiously.

"I wasn't particularly worried," she said, trying to sound casual. Then, goaded by the other's mocking expression, she shot back: "What glove does fit you, then?"

The other woman's amusement quickly disappeared. There was a small silence. Then: "You do have some spirit in you, after all," Catriana said judiciously. "I wasn't sure."

"That," said Alais, moved to a rare anger, "is patronizing. How would you be sure of anything about me? And why would I let you see it?"

Again there was a silence, and again Catriana surprised her. "I'm sorry," she said. "Truly. I'm really not very good at this. I warned you." She looked away. "As it happens, you hit a nerve and I tend to lash out when that occurs."