Mercy Thompson 01-05 - THE MERCY THOMPSON COLLECTION

neck of the borrowed guitar and there was a wide grin on his face.
    â€œYes,” I said, though we weren’t really. And wouldn’t now. It was less complicated just to say yes rather than explain our situation.
    â€œHe’s a very good musician,” Tim said. Then, his voice so quiet I knew I wasn’t supposed to hear him, he murmured, “Some people have all the luck.”
    I turned back to him and said, “What was that?”
    â€œAustin’s a pretty good guitarist, too,” he said quickly. “He tried to teach me, but I’m all thumbs.” He smiled like it didn’t matter, but the skin around his eyes was taut with bitterness and envy.
    How interesting, I thought. How could I use this to pry information from him?
    â€œI know how you feel,” I confided, sipping my pop. “I was practically raised with Samuel.” Except that Samuel had been an adult several times over. “I can plunk a bit on the piano if someone forces me. I can even sing on key—but no matter how hard I worked at it”—not very—“I could never sound as good as Samuel. And he never even had to practice.” I let a sharp note linger in my voice, a twin to the jealousy he’d revealed. “Everything is so easy for that man.”
    Zee had told me not to help him.
    Uncle Mike told me to stay out of it.
    But then I’d never been very good at listening to orders—ask anyone.
    Tim looked at me—and I saw him register me as a real person for the first time. “Exactly,” he said—and he was mine.
    I asked him where he’d learned Welsh, and he visibly expanded as he answered.
    Like a lot of people who didn’t have many friends, his social skills were a little lacking, but he was smart—and under all that earnest geekiness, funny. Samuel’s vast knowledge and charm had made Tim close up and turn into a jerk. With a little encouragement, and maybe the two glasses of beer he’d drunk, Tim relaxed and quit trying to impress me. Before I knew it, I found myself forgetting for a while that I had ulterior motives and got into a spirited argument about the tales of King Arthur.
    â€œThe stories came out of the courts of Eleanor of Aquitaine. They were to teach men how to behave in a civilized fashion,” Tim said earnestly.
    A caller with more volume than tone on the other side of the room called out, “King Louie was the king of France before the Revolu-shy-un!”
    â€œSure,” I said. “Cheat on your husband and your best friend. The only way to find love is through adultery. All good civilized behavior.”
    Tim smiled at my quip, but had to wait as the whole room responded, “Weigh haul away, haul away Joe.”
    â€œNot that,” he said, “but that people should strive to better themselves and to do the right thing.”
    â€œThen he got his head cut off, it spoiled his constitushy-un!”
    I had to hurry to slip in before the chorus. “Like sleep with your sister and beget your downfall?”
    â€œWeigh haul away, haul away Joe.”
    He gave a frustrated huff. “Arthur’s story isn’t the only one in the Arthurian cycle or even the most important. Parcival, Gawain, and half a dozen others were more popular.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. We were getting our timing down now and I started to tune out the music completely. “I’ll give you the urge to do heroic deeds, but the pictures they painted of women were right along the lines the Church held. Women lead men astray, and they will betray you as soon as you give them your trust.” He started to say something but I was in the middle of a thought and didn’t pause. “But it’s not their fault—that’s just what women do as a result of their weaker natures.” I knew better actually, but it was fun to rant.
    â€œThat’s a simplification,” he said hotly. “Maybe the popular versions that were retold in the middle twentieth century ignore most of the women. But just go read some of the original authors like Hartman von Aue or Wolfram von Eschenbach. Their women are real people, not just reflections of the Church’s ideals.”
    â€œI’ll give you Eschenbach,” I conceded. “But von Aue, no. His Iweine is about a knight who gave up adventuring because he loved his wife—for which he must atone. So he goes out and rescues women to regain his