“And I’m scarcely the most congenial of companions,” Magnus said with a sardonic smile.
“I would not have said that,” the computer demurred, “and she does have her own suite with electronic ‘windows’ that will show her a very convincing illusion of the landscape of her home—but it is only an illusion.”
“So cabin fever strikes,” Magnus said with a sigh.
“She only has to come out into the rest of the ship if she wants to, Magnus,” the computer reminded. “Which she does every day,” Magnus said, “and I suppose I should feel complimented, though it’s hard to believe you’re likable when the only other person you see rants and raves at you every time you see her.”
“That has only begun this last month,” Herkimer reminded, “and we have been under way for three.”
“True, true—and even though she’s had the distractions of all your learning programs, she must still find it hard to bear. I know I did on my first few trips.”
“Very true. Still, I think you should feel complimented that she feels safe in venting her anger on you.”
“Oh, I’m flattered past enduring,” Magnus said sourly. “If she needs to do it, though, I can at least be a good enough friend to let her.”
“It could be that she wishes you to be more than a friend.”
Magnus felt a thrill of alarm but hid it by saying, “I doubt that highly. I think you guessed rightly when you said there might be some sort of emotional trauma in her past.”
“Actually, that was your guess, Magnus, along with the speculation that the hurt may have been linked to sexual activity in some way.”
“A jilting and a broken heart is most likely,” Magnus mused. “She has told us about the pain of her neighbors’ betrayal when her parents died, but I think the real agony of the spirit comes from some event she hasn’t revealed.”
“You do very well not to pry,” the computer said a trifle primly. “Take it as a compliment, Magnus—that she trusts you enough to let her anger show.”
“And confuses me with the man who hurt her?”
“In some way and at some level—possibly.”
Alea stalked into her sitting room, wishing there had been a door to slam instead of a panel that hissed shut behind her. She threw herself down on the sofa, arms folded, ankles crossed, and seethed in silence. What was wrong with the man? Wasn’t she important to him? Certainly he wasn’t in love with her. Anger spurred again, all the stronger to hide the tinge of panic the thought evoked. If Magnus wasn’t in love with her, why had he invited her to leave her home planet and travel with him?
Because you had nowhere else to go, came the answer, and with it, her own brand of self-honesty kicked in. There had been no future for her on Midgard, she had to admit. Then, too, Magnus had never even hinted that he saw her as anything but a friend—and who could, when she was so tall and ungainly and plain? Resentment surged again—what right did he have to tear her away from her homeland if he saw her as nothing more than a traveling companion?
Still, he had only extended the invitation; it was she who had leaped to accept it. She had been excited at the prospect of seeing new worlds—and still was. The thought of the planet they were approaching stirred that excitement again. True enough, it didn’t seem all that different from her home planet of Midgard, not in the pictures, except that everyone on this new world of Brigante seemed to be more or less the same size, and their villages were smaller—with no sign of slavery, nor of battles.
It sounded rather dull, in fact; but after the constant dangers of her homeland, she could do with a little tranquility. Of course, she’d had plenty of that on the spaceship in the last three months, but to have it under an open sky and with a variety of new people—that would be thrilling! Not that she had any fault to find with Magnus, of course, except that he was always so quiet and so serious! Anger stirred again, but with it came a mental picture of him, tall and broad, a bulk of muscle taller even than herself, with the sharp-eyed look of an eagle—though with eyes that could turn gentle with concern and tenderness in an instant, brown eyes, larger than those of most men, in a face with a broad, high forehead, prominent cheekbones, straight nose, and surprisingly full lips. It seemed a sensual face, one made for passion.
Something within her churned at the thought. Angrily, she banished it for the nonsense it was; if Magnus had been made for passion, why was he so distant and withdrawn so often? Certainly he didn’t find her attractive, probably didn’t even see her as a woman—and she felt obscurely relieved at the thought. He would do for a traveling companion, and a very good one, but would she really want him to be anything more?
Yes, cried something within her, but another element bridled at the thought. She banished them both—Magnus was only a friend and shield-mate to her, as she was to him. He would take her to strange, exotic places and do his best to keep her safe there, as she would do to him. Bare is the back without brother behind it, she thought, and at last she had a brother—and if he had only a sister-at-arms, well, she would see to it that she was a better shield than any man could have been!
Not that there looked to be any need of shields or swords on Brigante; she had never seen a more peaceable-looking people in her life. She didn’t really mind Magnus’s choice in worlds to visit—anything strange and new was bound to be fascinating. But she did mind the fact that he had done the choosing, even though he had asked her opinion. Still, she had to admit that she hadn’t objected; the world might not have been in trouble, bur it had sounded interesting.
But she would have liked to have seen some sign of passion in him! Rail as she might, she only evoked that compassionate, gentle gaze of his, almost frightening in its intensity. For a moment, she imagined that intensity in an ardent lover’s gaze, his sensual face burning with desire—and shuddered. No, she did not want that, not again, neither from him nor from any other man. The joy and the ecstasy were not worth the pain of being cast aside.
Still, he could show some sign of emotion.
“You don’t think she really wants to change destinations, then?”
“Not when we have come so far, Magnus. If nothing else, I am certain she would like a few days to revel in the great outdoors with no walls about her and only the sky for ceiling.”
“There is that,” Magnus admitted. “I could do with a little shore leave myself. No offense, Herkimer—your accommodations are luxurious and very comforting, but I think she may have had her fill of easy living for the time being.”
“Certainly a passenger aboard. this ship lives better than the most wealthy landowner on Midgard,” Herkimer said, “though without as much space.”
“Still, it’s more room than in her parents’ house.” Magnus frowned, still puzzling over the riddle that was Alea. “I really can’t think of any way in which I might have offended her—other than in being me, that is…” ‘
“You might also remember,” Herkimer said judiciously, “that though you may not be the cause of her anger, you are the only target available at the moment.”
Magnus digested that idea for a few minutes, then nodded slowly. “Yes, shore leave might be a good idea.”.
“Assuredly she should find better ways of expressing her anger,” Herkimer said, “and probably will, given time.”
“Meanwhile, though, I’m going to have to grin and bear it, eh?”
“You must persevere in the patience you have just demonstrated, yes.” Herkimer was silent for a few minutes, then added, “You may also wish to consider the possibility that she may have been inadvertently testing you, trying to drive you away in hopes that you will stay.”