She spied Cedric walking along a pathway between the dormitory and a classroom building. Only two months had passed, but he did seem to have grown. He was the tallest of the youths there, though he was a freshman, and two college girls flirted outrageously with him as they passed.
Then he spied Niobe and smiled. He had grown more handsome, too! He seemed to be in his element here. But he became diffident and awkward as he approached her. The problem between them still existed.
She visited his dormitory room and met his roommate—a pudgy, scholarly type. Cedric showed her his work so far: projects relating to wetlands reclamation and natural magic. It was evident that he took it seriously and was learning a great deal. She was sure he was a joy to his professors.
First she had a little chore to do. "Give me your cap," she said.
"My cap?" he asked blankly.
"Your college cap—the one you wear to show you're a student. I believe you'll find it on your head."
Perplexed, he removed it and handed it to her. She brought out her needle and thread and sewed a bright band of silk around it. "That's to show the college girls that you're married," she said firmly, returning it to him.
"Oh. Sure. Of course." He seemed nonplused.
She kissed him chastely, then returned to her carriage. She found herself both reassured and disquieted as she rode home, and it took time to ferret out the sources of her feelings. But at length she realized that she was pleased to see Cedric properly established in college and doing well, pleasantly surprised to see him so tall and handsome and confident, and jealous of the attention he received from the girls of his own age. A married man, after all, had no business attracting such interest. So she had done what was necessary, but still was bothered. After all, what had she done with him all summer, when she had had him all to herself? There was the nagging suspicion of failure on her part; or, if not exactly that, of imperfection. Would they have succeeded in consummating the marriage if she had been more alert to the problem? If she had been sensitive to his side of it? If she had refrained from correcting his errors, from being the perfect lady, and just concentrated on being a person he could relate to as he could to a college girl? Naturally he had been diffident!
Having resolved the mixture of her emotions and gotten them suitably shelved in her mind, she resumed her ordinary life and produced some truly fine tapestries depicting forest and wetlands scenes. One showed the water oak in the swamp, with the hamadryad perched on its lowest branch, posing. It had taken time and patience to befriend the nymph enough to get her to do this, and Niobe knew that not many human people could have accomplished this at all; she was quite pleased. If only she could have done that with Cedric!
Near the end of the semester she visited Cedric again. He had been dutifully sending her letters about his life and progress at the college, and his writing showed increasing perception and literacy. He was gaining mentally and socially as well as physically; the college experience was indeed good for him. He was majoring in Wetlands Magic and already was learning things they hadn't taught in Niobe's day. He knew how to test trees for their specific forms of magic and all about the ecological cycle. Next term he would take a course in Wetlands Fauna and their relationship to the vegetation. He was excited by the enormous store of information available and determined to master it all. But Niobe wanted to see for herself, just to be sure he wasn't exaggerating. The impetuous young were prone to exaggeration, after all.
Cedric was taller yet and marvelously handsome in the sunlight, and his ready smile charmed her. He had one class to attend before he could give her his full attention. "I'm sorry," he apologized, but his grin was one of accommodation rather than chagrin. "I must attend; I have a report to give. Then I'll be with you. But my Water Magic Prof wants to talk to you anyway, so you won't be bored."
How his confidence had grown! Niobe was almost dismayed to see that her husband was prospering just as well without her as she was without him. But she went to see the Prof, who was expecting her.
The Prof was typical of his breed: aging, stooped, with a shock of white hair and a deeply serrated face from which the eyes fairly gleamed with intelligence. "Ah, Mrs. Kaftan!" he exclaimed. "I recognize you at once by your extraordinary beauty!"
"Oh, come on!" she demurred, foolishly flattered.
"No, indeed!" he persisted loudly. All teachers had voices that carried to the farthest recesses of the mind. "I asked Cedric how I would know you, and he said when I saw the loveliest mortal woman of this world, that would be Niobe. Lo, it is so! He is much in awe of you, and it is not difficult to perceive the reason. You are indeed outstanding!"
"Enough, Professor! I'm an old married woman! Why did you wish to talk with me? Is something wrong with Cedric's program?"
"Quite the opposite, my dear!" he protested enthusiastically. "Cedric is the most brilliant and conscientious student I have had in a decade. His work is outstanding for a student! Do you know, Mrs. Kaftan, a mind like his is seldom brought to these, if you will pardon the pun, backwaters of scholarship like Wetlands Ecology. I wanted to compliment you on the good work you have done for our discipline by motivating him to enter it. I know that when he matures he will carry our research forward to new heights, as it were."
Niobe was taken aback. Evidently the Prof was a creature of superlatives! "I only showed him the local—I do have some interest in—"
"Indeed you do, Mrs. Kaftan!" he agreed. "He tells me that he owes it all to you. He says you took an ignorant hick and showed him the wetlands in a way he had never seen, and it changed his life. Mrs. Kaftan, you are a wonderful woman, and I salute you!"
She found herself halfway overwhelmed by the Profs enthusiasm. He was not bad at motivation himself! "Then Cedric is—doing well?" It sounded inane, but she couldn't think of an adequate remark at the moment.
"Straight A's," he agreed. "And we do not issue those lightly! But that does not begin to suggest his potential. Do you know, Mrs. Kaftan, if I may be so candid, at first I wondered why a woman as lovely as you have been confirmed to be would marry such a youngster, as obviously you could pick and choose among the best the j War has left us, but as I came to know him, I understood that you had picked the best. There is only one like him in each generation. You will never regret that decision, I am sure!"
"Uh, yes," Niobe agreed faintly.
"Cedric worships the ground you tread, and I am not certain I mean that figuratively. If you had sent him to business school, he would have become in due course a tycoon. What a loss that would have been for science and magic! You turned him instead to the wetlands—" He shook his head, then impulsively reached out to take her hand, lift it to his lips, and kiss it. "My most abiding gratitude, Mrs. Kaftan. If there is ever any favor you require of me, do not hesitate to ask."
She found herself back outside in the sun, dazed. No wonder Cedric was doing well; the Prof was an amazing catalyst. Probably he treated everyone like that, turning each student on. Still, he had had no need to call Cedric brilliant unless it was true. She had known Cedric was smart; apparently she had underestimated him. The college environment had evidently brought out the best in him.
Cedric finished his class and rejoined her. He was still a tousle-headed youngster under his banded cap, but now she fancied she could see the smartness in him, radiating out from his head. She remembered the magic of his music. Yes, there was definitely more to him than youth! But again, in her private presence, he became shy and awkward. "I—it's great to see you, Niobe," he said.
"What do you want to do?"
"Well, I will need to check your wardrobe," she said. "I'm sure your clothing is wearing out and will need attention." Which was not at all what she wanted to say and, indeed, fell comfortably into the major category of Things Never to Be Said, because she was being motherly. But she couldn't even conceive of, let alone formulate, what she might have intended to say. The Profs remarks had colored her perspective, and she had not yet completed her readjustmen
t. She liked to keep things orderly, like threads in a tapestry, and hated it when a thread broke. But mending a thread was a special process, requiring time and consideration.
"Uh, sure," he agreed somewhat lamely. "You always take good care of me."
Damn it! she thought furiously. She had definitely done it again, putting him in the junior role. How could he ever become a true husband this way?
So she wended her way home, bearing a burden of tangled feelings greater than before. She might be an expert weaver of ornamental tapestries, but she was plainly inadequate in marriage. She had expected to marry a more experienced man and just wasn't competent to educate a younger one in the necessary way. If only there were a college course in—
She halted that thought in place. No, she certainly didn't want Cedric taking that kind of course! Not with those colleens! Marriage was a private thing.
The winter passed somewhat bleakly, and when the ice melted from the surface of the swamp, she proceeded again to the college. This time the students were out in force, enjoying the first genuinely nice day in some time. Some of the more voluptuous girls were in very brief outfits for sunning, and the youths were in shorts. Niobe, conscious of the flattery of the Prof last time, and not wishing to be taken for a college girl, had garbed herself this time in very conservative fashion. She wore an old-fashioned long skirt her mother had outgrown, and a figure-de-emphasizing jacket. Her hair was severely bound back in a bun, she wore no makeup, and She had button-down boots. She felt quite dowdy.
She checked Cedric's room, but he was not there, and she wasn't sure what class he might be in at the moment. So she sat on a bench near the dormitory and waited for his return, taking advantage of the time to do some knitting. She was good at that too; in fact she was adept at any type of yarn manipulation. It really was pleasant enough here, and of course she had arrived early; he wouldn't be expecting her for perhaps another hour.
Several college youths came walking along the path. They had evidently been drinking; in fact one still carried a bottle of red wine, half-finished. Niobe's nose wrinkled; she detested wine of every type, ever since the disaster during the courtship. She was surprised and not pleased that its use was permitted on the campus. Was Cedric being subjected to bad influences?
One of the youths paused as they passed her bench. "Say, who's the old lady?" he demanded half-facetiously, staring at Niobe. She knew she looked older than the college girls, as was her intent, but he was exaggerating. He was the one with the bottle, showing signals of intoxication; as he paused, he lifted the bottle and took another swig. A driblet of pale red fluid ran down the side of his chin; then he lowered the bottle and burped.
"Somebody's mother," another youth joked. Oh, that stung, for a private reason she would never let them know. "Hey, whose mother are you?" the first demanded.
"No one's," Niobe replied primly. "I am Cedric's wife."
"His wife!" the youth exclaimed. "He never let on he was robbing the retirement home! He always claimed his woman was beautiful!" And all four of them laughed coarsely.
Niobe tried to ignore their gibes, hoping they would go away, but the wine gave them persistent insolence. They closed about her, their wine-soaked breaths fouling the air. "Please go away," she said at last.
"But we just got here!" the bottle-holder said. "And it's our dorm! Come on, old lady, you gonna show us a good time?" He reached for her jacket and grabbed the lapel, yanking the front open so that a button popped off. "I'll bet you got some good stuff hidden away in there!"
Niobe jerked away and slapped his hand.
"Hey!" he exclaimed as the others laughed. Then his mouth turned mean. "Hit me, will you? Well, how do you like this! And he poured the red wine on her head.
Niobe gave a cry of surprise and dismay and jumped up, trying to get away from the stream. But he caught her arm. "Beautiful woman, hell!" he said breathily. "You're just a damned slut!"
She kicked him in the shin and spun away, knowing it was not possible to reason with drunkenness. But one of the other youths caught her about the shoulders from behind and heaved her off the ground. A third grabbed her legs. "Come on, let's see what she's made of!" he cried. "Pull her skirt off!"
Niobe struggled valiantly, drawing up her legs and then shoving, but the youths were too strong for her. They held her at shoulders and feet, and the bottle-wielder dropped the spent container and groped for her skirt, hauling it down over her legs so that her undergarments were exposed. "Say, she's not so old!" he said, pausing to squeeze her left thigh.
Niobe screamed, but it did no good. The youth jerked her skirt down to her ankles, and the one holding her feet let go of one so that the wadded skirt could pass around it. She tried to kick him, but he caught her ankle again and pushed it away, forcing her legs to spread. "Look at those legs!" he exclaimed.
"Get her down on the ground," the bottle-youth directed. "Hold her still, and we'll take turns." He licked his lips and loosened his belt.
"Turns at what?" a new voice demanded.
Niobe recognized it. "Cedric!" she cried.
Indeed it was he, standing tall and dynamic as he flung away his jacket. "That is my wife," he said, and it was as if a cloud crossed his face, turning his normally sunny expression pale and grim.
No pretense was possible, at this stage. "Get him!" the bottle-youth cried.
They dropped Niobe and turned as one to face Cedric. They closed on him from four sides, not so drunk as to give him any fair chance singly.
"No!" she cried, knowing that Cedric could not possibly prevail against four. She tried to get up, but her feet got tangled in her skirt and she had to pause to get it on again. As she did, she watched with dread while the four attacked her husband.
Two took hold of Cedric's arms while a third drew back his fist and struck Cedric in the stomach. Niobe winced— but Cedric just grinned. "God, he's like a damn rock!" the youth exclaimed, amazed.
"Now you have had the first blow," Cedric said. "I'll have the last."
Suddenly Cedric brought his arms together in front of him, hauling the two in from the sides as if they were puppets. They stumbled along, colliding with each other. Then he flung his arms out again, and they fell away on either side. Cedric was free.
He stepped forward, his two fists swinging like sledgehammers. One connected to the gut of the youth who had struck him, and his stomach was more like mush than rock. He folded forward, the wind gushing out of him— just as Cedric's other fist slammed into the side of his head. The youth's hair flew wide and he staggered and fell, semiconscious.
Cedric whirled and struck the bottle-youth on the chest. The air whooshed out of him, too, and he sank to his knees. But the remaining two had regained their feet and were charging in again.
Cedric ducked down, caught one of them by arm and leg, lifted him on his shoulders, and hurled him into the other.
As suddenly as it had begun, the fight was over. Cedric stood, his chest heaving, the muscles of his upper arms bulging; the four youths were spread in various ignominious attitudes about the lawn. Niobe was virtually spellbound, looking at him. Suddenly he seemed twice the size he had been before.
Then he stepped across to help her up. "You all right, Niobe? I heard your scream and I got out of that class—"
"Cedric—you never told me you could fight like that!"
He shrugged. "You told me I'd be through with that."
Now she remembered. He had liked to fight. She had presumed it to be mere mischief. She looked around at the four. Some mischief! "Perhaps I spoke prematurely. Just what kind of fighting did you do?"
"Well, I was bare-knucks champ of my district, junior division. But you were right; I had to put aside childish things when I got married."
"Childish things!" she echoed, shaking her head. In her spot memory she saw him again, shrugging off a solid blow to the stomach; saw the two youths almost jerked off their feet as he drew his arms together, then flung like rag dolls to the ground. Now she
felt the amazing power of those arms, as he held her steady. She should have gotten the hint when he had shown her how to split wood, for his strength had been there then. "And I called you a bonnie boy!"
Now a crowd was gathering, and the Prof she had talked to before appeared. "What happened here?"
The bottle-youth struggled to his feet. "He set upon us!" he cried, pointing at Cedric. "For no reason!"
Niobe's mouth dropped open at the audacity of this lie. But she realized that there had been no witnesses to the initial part of this incident—just her and the fouryouths. The word of four against the word of one.
"Shall we see?" the Prof inquired, as if unconcerned. He spied the bottle and picked it up, frowning. "Good— a drop remains. We shall invoke the water magic."
He brought out a little dish containing a film of mold, set it carefully on the ground, and upended the bottle over it. A driblet of wine descended into the dish.
There was a pause. Then a reddish glow developed at the dish. It expanded rapidly, and there were roils of vapor in it, as the wine was vaporized in the magic pattern stimulated by the potent mold. An enchantment of water, certainly; Niobe was fascinated. She had known of such magic, but had never before actually observed it.
"Move back, give room," the Prof warned. "We do not want to interfere with the re-creation."
They all moved back, even the youths, who seemed to be completely intimidated by the Profs presence. The vapor diffused into the entire area, and stabilized, lending a reddish cast to the air. Then it swirled and coalesced into a ghostly image: a woman seated on the bench. "This is a ten-minute spell," the Prof explained. "It should be enough."
"But I don't think the wine was here yet," Cedric said. "It had to have come with them."
"That is why the picture is fuzzy," the Prof agreed. "You did not suppose my magic was vague, did you, lad? The wine was distant, but the magic is here; it is recreating a still scene until further definition is possible."
Several minutes passed. No one moved. All were absorbed by the promise of the water magic.
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