“An obvious lie,” a man’s voice declared. “No Mechanic would care about the fate of a Mage. Could you not tell it was a lie?”
The less said this time the better. He did not want to betray to these elders how the Mechanic had affected him. “No. I did not see deception in her when the Mechanic said that.”
“Too young,” one of the elders grumbled tonelessly. “A capable Mage would have seen the lie. The Mechanic must have wanted something. What did she ask of you?”
Alain had to think this time before answering. The Mechanic had actually asked very little of him that he could recall. “She asked me how I created fire. She did not understand how I could do it. I did not tell her.”
The third shadowy figure spoke, his voice that of an old man. “Of course she could not understand. Surely you had at least enough sense to not waste your time trying to explain wisdom to a Mechanic? What else did you tell her? What did she want?” the old Mage continued, his voice becoming accusatory enough for the emotion to be obvious.
“She wanted to survive,” Alain repeated, unable to think what else his elders expected him to say. She would not drink the last of the water and leave me. He did not understand that himself. How could he explain it to these elders?
The woman spoke again, suspicion shading the blandness of her tone. “This Mechanic was a female? A young one?”
“Yes, elder.”
“You are young as well.”
“Yes, elder.”
“What did she attempt with you? Did she ensnare you?”
“Ensnare me?” Alain asked, not sure what that meant.
“Did she seduce you, fool, while you were alone together?”
Alain could not remember the last time he had laughed. It had been a very long time ago. The absurdity of this question almost caused him to gasp with something that might have sounded a bit like laughter, though, which would have angered his elders beyond measure. It took all of Alain’s training to snuff out that sound before it reached his lips. “No, elder. The Mechanic never approached me in any way.”
“She never touched you?”
“Once. She touched me once.” As far as Alain could recall, there had been only one time when the Mechanic had initiated a touch, and he would be a fool indeed to volunteer that he had one time extended a hand to her.
“Once?” The elder pounced on that.
“I was weak from casting spells to kill bandits. She took my arm and helped me stand.”
The silence was longer this time. Then one of the elders said a single word. “Helped?”
Alain hoped desperately that no emotion was showing on his face. “That is what she called it.” Not a lie. No. He had told these elders exactly what had happened. Would they press him on whether he understood what the word meant?
Another pause, then the elders apparently decided not to pursue an issue that might awaken the wrong memories in Alain. “She teased you with her touch, then withheld her gifts,” the woman elder said. “Did she display herself, offer the promise of her gifts in the future?”
“Display herself?” What could that mean?
“Did she flaunt her body before you?” the elder demanded.
Alain could not think of anything which the Mechanic had done which qualified as flaunting. He was not certain exactly what “flaunting” meant. He had been around only female Mages or acolytes since he was very young, and all of them followed Mage teachings to take little notice of physical appearance or physical desires. That certainly was not flaunting.
The Mechanic had not seemed all that different. She clearly kept herself clean when not fleeing bandits in the desert, but she also had not worn the heavy make-up that Alain had noticed on some common women. Common attempts to create their own illusions of beauty, another elder had said contemptuously to Alain before he left the Guild Hall in Ihris.
But none of those women, who had displayed much more flesh than he had ever seen of the Mechanic, had seemed so…interesting. Why had they settled into a barely recalled blur while she remained clear in his memory?
He had been aware of the Mechanic’s body. He had sometimes found himself watching her walk when he was behind her, and even though she had kept her jacket on almost all of the time, Alain had caught glimpses of her wet shirt clinging to her. The memories of those sights had been troubling his nights since then. “She wore a shirt which was sometimes soaked with sweat—”
“Ah.” That answer had pleased the elders into showing their feelings. “And tight trousers, no doubt.”
“She wore trousers, elder,“ Alain confirmed.
They had not been tight trousers.
Though where those trousers had been tightest across the back…
No. No. No. Do not think on it.
Some trace of his own discomfort must have been noticeable, because satisfaction could still be heard in the voice of the elder who asked the next question. “How did she act toward you, young Mage?”
What answers did they seek? He knew that, and so he gave his own answers in a form that was accurate and yet matched the expectations of the elders. “She tried to give orders to me. She made decisions on her own. She was stubborn.“
“Of course.”
She was intelligent, resourceful, and steadfast…she saved my life. She asked my advice and listened to it. Somehow she has caused me to remember things that I should not. But Alain left all of those words unspoken. Why should he say them? These elders would be the first to tell him that nothing was real. Why invite their displeasure by saying things they certainly did not want to hear?
Especially when he could not explain any of it. The Mechanic, her actions, did not match all that he had been taught about Mechanics. But if I tell the elders that, they will accuse me of failing to show wisdom, even if they also cannot explain it.
And so I will say nothing of such things. For that is wisdom here.
“Even one so young as you should know that Mechanics do nothing without purpose, Mage Alain,” said the oldest of the elders, “and those purposes are always contrary to the welfare of the Mage Guild. You traveled with this Mechanic in the same caravan before it was attacked. Did she seek you out before then?”
“No,” Alain answered, certain his voice was betraying no emotion this time. “She spent the entire journey before the attack in her wagon. I was not even aware of the presence of a Mechanic until during the attack.”
The woman asked the next question, her voice still frigid despite its detachment. “Why did you allow her to accompany you? Why did you not leave her to her fate?”
“I was contracted to protect the caravan. Since the Mechanic was a member of the caravan, and the Mage Guild had contracted my protection for all in the caravan, I felt required to protect her as well.”
“That is a lawyer’s argument, Mage. Wisdom born of more experience would have told you that your services were to the caravan master, not to some Mechanic who will surely continue to work against the welfare of your Guild.”
Alain inclined his head toward the dim figures, even though he thought their arguments had more of the lawyer to them than had Alain’s own statement. “This one understands.”
“You should have refused to speak with this Mechanic,” the first elder insisted. “You should have left her to her own devices in the Waste. A more experienced Mage would have known this.”
The other two elders sitting in the room made noises of agreement. Alain almost frowned at the thought of leaving Mechanic Mari to die in the Waste before he remembered to block any show of emotion. These three had already sent barbs about his youth his way.He might as well ask a question suited for an acolyte, since they apparently expected nothing more. “This one has questions.”