Bastion

of embarrassment he had ever suffered in his life and somehow managed to get his head wrapped around the idea of treating Jakyr’s help just like any other lesson, he listened closely, did not exclaim several times—as he was tempted to—“you’re joking, right?!”—and when he was in the least confused, asked questions until he wasn’t confused anymore.
    Jakyr, for his part, kept strictly on the subject and did not, as he often did under other circumstances, wander off into reminiscence.
    It was . . . highly instructive.
    And Mags was very, very glad for it all. He’d known the first time was going to hurt Amily; it always had with the mine kiddies. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, or at least, he’d wanted something good to happen beforehand so she wouldn’t be revolted and not want to do it anymore when it did hurt her. As it happened, Jakyr had several ideas on that score.
    They talked—or, rather, Jakyr talked and Mags listened—for so long that both of them were starving. Last night they had put in an order with the village baker for bread, they had gotten it first thing before they rode out, and Mags had taken the bulging saddlebags to the kitchen area. Jakyr made the simplest and quickest possible meal for them out of bread and cheese and some apples, and he kept talking. Finally, it seemed that he’d managed to exhaust even his considerable knowledge of women and how to please them. Physically, at least. Mags was grateful that Jakyr made no attempt to tell him how to please a woman in any other way than physically, since current observation would suggest that Jakyr was not a very good source for that information. They finally finished eating in—at least in Mags’ case—slightly embarrassed silence.
    “Now, if I were you,” Jakyr said, when they had both finished and were sipping lukewarm tea. “What I would do is check how sound carries from where your sleeping spot is set up. If you haven’t already, that is. I can promise you that there is nothing more uncomfortable for someone than to hear the sounds of someone else enjoying him- or herself carnally.” Then he added dryly, “Except, perhaps, discovering that your own adventures were keeping other people awake.”
    Mags shook his head. “Never thought on it,” he said, blushing all over again. “I was thinking more where’s warm than where is it we won’t—”
    “Well, do. Make sure sound won’t carry or echo to the rest of us. If it does . . . well, might try deeper into this cavern. Lena and Bear have the walls of the caravan to keep sound from traveling, but we have stone walls, and as a miner, you know how those echo.” Jakyr shrugged. “You might even think about going to another cave entirely. It’s not as if you are going to be cold for very long with what you two intend to get up to. There’s still plenty of bedding . . . the only drawback I can see is that it’s going to start snowing soon, and when that happens, a trek through the snow to come and go is going to get unpleasant.”
    “If you don’ mind, I’ll get a lantern and see what I can find now,” he said, getting very tired of blushing.
    “Please do. Remember that young love gets tedious in a great hurry when it wakes up the poor fellow sleeping solitary—or keeps him from going to sleep in the first place.” Jakyr got up. “I’ll see about a proper dinner. I don’t think we can expect the others until tomorrow at this point, so it will just be you and me.”
    Mags nodded, scrambled to his feet, and got a lantern.
    There was one thing true about sound in a cave or a mine: If you could hear it from where you were, someone out there could hear your noise from where he was. So he knew he wasn’t going to have to further embarrass himself by calling out to Jakyr, “Can you hear me?” All he had to do was to listen for Jakyr’s rather noisy cooking. Jakyr liked to sing while he cooked, especially if there was no one immediately around, and most especially if Lita was far, far away. Probably because Lita would have made fun of him. That was going to be useful tonight.
    Venturing down what looked like a promising passage, he discovered that it must have served as a kind of dormitory, for the sleeping nooks were spaced along the walls on both sides, more or less evenly. The tunnel itself had a low ceiling, which kept sound from bouncing around too much, and it had a layer of thick sand on the floor, which also muffled noise. Someone had