Spell of Intrigue | Page 9

to go to start with?"
Shaa opened the sack, peered within, fingered thoughtfully through his latest collection of weeds, selected one slender stalk of dusty and purple-edged green, mashed its bulbous end between his thumb and forefinger, and inserted the oozing tip in the comer of his mouth. "Did you ask a question?" he said.
"You're like trying to punch smoke, you know that?" Jurtan said. "You know perfectly well I asked a question."
Shaa rolled the weed around with his tongue for a moment before responding. "Maximillian has, rather valiantly I might add, offered to assist in your seasoning. I'm not sure I understand why, but then I'm not certain I understand why I've been spending so much of my own time with you when you persist in being so urchinish. There are some who would pay for the opportunity that is being thrust upon you gratis, but from your lips does a word of thanks fall? Not in my hearing, and I venture not in anyone else's either."
"I never said I wanted to be an adventurer," said Mont, "or whatever you all think you are, and I don't particularly want to try to fight with a sword. I'd rather work on the - well, the other stuff."
"They are not, as you are well aware, mutually exclusive, and the swordwork may not only help to occupy you on the way to the big time, but may help you when we get there."
"The big time? I thought we were going to the City of the Empire."
"Merely a synonym," Shaa said, "as you may come to appreciate if you survive, a state which may have something to do with your not exasperating one of us beyond the bounds of our professional courtesy."
"Well, excuse me for living," Mont said sarcastically. Shaa was pleased to note that his command of the proper tone was improving. Then again, of course, as Shaa didn't mind acknowledging, he did have more than one expert teacher. "But what if this adventuring stuff isn't for me, anyway? I mean, you've got an excuse. You've got your curse."
"I do indeed, and I am heartily sick of it. This time there may actually be a chance of slipping out of it; that is why I'm going."
Mont snorted. "You're not sick of it at all. I mean, you may be sick of the curse, but you're not sick of adventuring, I know you're not. You like it."
"I like it more when I have some discretion about the situation. The thought that it is quite likely to bring about my death does not exactly exert a calming influence, either."
"I thought adventuring was supposed to be risky."
"This is true. Yet my risk factors are not merely those of the typical job description," Shaa said, "as you know perfectly well."
"That's a pretty good one, when you think about it," said Mont. "You're cursed to keep running after something that's probably going to kill you."
"Hmm, yes," Shaa commented, "it is rather classic. My brother did know what he was doing."
Mont actually made a small "whoof"ing noise, as though he had been punched unexpectedly beneath the diaphragm. His mouth fell open. "Your -" he said. "Wait a second. I thought you had a sister."
"I do have a sister. I also have a brother."
"But I thought your sister was the one causing you all the trouble."
Shaa swiveled an eye in Mont's direction. "One of the major things you have yet to learn is not to presume that just because you know one fact, you know all, or just because you know facts, you know their proper interpretation."
"But - " said Mont, "but -"
"Why should I tell my life's story to a lout who wants to rot in Roosing Oolvaya for the rest of his days?"
Mont subsided into a sullen pout. "I'll go with Max, " he said eventually.
"Don't do me any favors. You still appear reluctant," Shaa observed. "Is there some other hidden frustration you wish to vent?"
"No," said Mont. "Yes. Why do we have to go off and try to get in more trouble, anyway? I mean, Roosing Oolvaya's an out-of-the-way kind of place, nothing much ever happens here, and now that that whole bit with the coup and Oskin Yahlei and so forth's finished with, I'm sure nothing's going to happen again for years and years, if it ever does, so why can't we just stay here and do the same training and -"
" A characteristic example," stated Shaa, "of limited thinking, wishful at its source, narrow in its development. Events have a way of seeking one out, under their own momentum, or -" Shaa lengthened the word, so as to override the objection Mont, backtracking toward literal-mindedness, was about to voice- "or" (he repeated for good measure) "the characters behind the events, caught up in the same