The cursed towers 292
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He looked back rather uneasily, saying, "Och, it's an uncanny gaze your wee birdie is giving me. It's
almost as though she is reading my thoughts."
"Well, your thoughts are no' that hard to read," Isa-beau replied with a laugh. "It's a most expressive face
ye've got, Dide."
He seized her hand, color rising in his lean, brown cheeks. "Then if ye ken what it is I'm thinking . . ."
Isabeau squeezed his fingers and then drew her hand back. "I want to be a sorceress," she said gently.
"Witches do no' marry, ye ken that. Or at least, only rarely and usually to other witches. Ye ken ye do
no' want to give up the jongleur's life for the Coven. Ye said yourself ye hate Theurgias! Well, I do no'
much want to travel around in a caravan, juggling oranges for a living. Ye ken I canna sing or dance or
swallow fire or do somersaults like ye and Nina. I'd be no use to ye at all."
Dide was silent for a moment, and then his irrepressible smile broke over his face again. He leant forward
and nuzzled under her ear. "Who said anything about marriage?" he whispered. "Tomorrow is a long way
away, but tonight is here and now."
Isabeau laughed and pushed him away. "Aye, but if I want to be a sorceress I canna be distracting myself
with the needs o' the body, at least no' yet. Maybe one day, when I've won my staff and sorceress rings .
. ."
Dide kissed her ear and then her cheek. "So your body has needs, does it? I canna be allowing those
needs to be unmet. Would I no' give a wee dram to a man dying o' thirst?" He kissed her cheek and then
her mouth. Suddenly he leapt back with an exclamation of pain. "Your blaygird birdie just pecked me!"
he cried.
Isabeau gave a peal of laughter. "Buba!" she cried. "Wicked bird!"
Dide glared at the little owl, nursing his hand. Gingerly he sat down again, saying, "Canna ye tell it to go
hunt some spiders?"
Isabeau smiled at him affectionately. "Nay, I think I need Buba here to protect me," she replied. "My
chastity, if no' my health. Nay, go on, Dide, I meant what I said. I'm only here for a short time anyway. I
must return to the Cursed Towers with my mam and my dai-dein. They need me there, and I have more
to learn from the Soul-Sage and the Firemaker yet. I want to undergo my initiation and win my name and
my scars. The queen-dragon said to know my future I must know my past. I think too much o' ye to
merely dally with ye in the gardens ..."
He laughed, rather bitterly. "That's a soft brush-off, if ever I heard one," he said. "Ye sure I canna get ye
some wine? If only it was Hogmanay, I could try with the Het Pint again."
Isabeau laughed ruefully and got to her feet, shaking leaves from her skirt. "Go and play for the party,
Dide," she said. "I have only a few hours and I want to spend some time with Meghan. I have no' seen
her for a long time syne, and indeed she is looking auld and drawn."
Dide jumped up and strummed his guitar. "Och my love's cruel and cold, cruel and cold she is to me," he
sang, bowing to her with his black eyes sparkling with mockery. "Made o' ice and snow is she, cruel and
cold she is to me."
He wandered off into the crowd, singing, and Isabeau lifted the little owl so she could brush her chin
against its velvety feathers. "Come, Buba," she said. "I want ye to meet Meghan, who was my
foster-mother as I am unto ye."
