I stared at him. "Wha?"

"You heard me."

"I heard somethin, but I figured I must be havin hallucinations."

"Smart ass."

"Present."

"This is where you're supposed to say 'I love you, too'." I stared at Cupe. He sighed. "You can't say it, can you?"

"Cupe..."

"It's all right, I understand." He leaned down an' kissed me, his mouth movin on mine so soft an' slow.

No, I couldn't say it. I mean, it was true. Ya knew that, right? I thought I had it hid pretty good, but I guess there wasn't any way I coulda kept it from Cupe. Kinda dumb ta think I could, huh?

It was impossible, of course. I mean, ya love someone, ya don't hurt 'em, so there was no way I could let this thing go anywhere. So I pulled away from that nice, warm mouth an' said, "Well, that's... that's nice of ya, Cupe." I slapped his chest. "Yah, nice ta know, buddy. So, it's about time we got back ta this hookin' up business, right?"

"You're going to say it to me, sooner or later."

I climbed outta his lap an' stood up. "Are we goin straight ta Anieli an' Damara, or do I hafta practise some more?"

He stood up. "You can't dodge this forever, Strife."

"I'm pretty fast on my feet when I hafta be."

We started walkin toward tha house ta say good-bye. "You're stubborn."

"A little."

"Calling you a little stubborn is like saying that flood was a light shower."

"Hey, I said I was sorry about that. So I misestimated a little."

"Dad was bored stiff till there were enough people for him to operate, and he drove Aunt Eileithyia and Hera crazy, nagging them to get the world repopulated."

"I kept busy. Ya have no idea how much opportunity there is for mischief in a closed environment like that boat, especially with all tha animals. Why, tha manure gags alone..."

He had a little work ta catch up on, so for tha first part of tha day I just followed him around while he zapped people. Well, I didn't just follow him around--I kept my hand in. Turn ovah a milk pail here, blow out a fire there. Thing was that mosta tha folks around my little disasters were fallin in love 'cause of Cupe, so they scarcely noticed. Usually that pisses me off, but I didn't mind.

Early that evening we ended up at a tavern that was fulla mercenaries, wenches, minstrels, an' bards. If ya have evah been around a combination like that ya know what a riot it can be. Heck, it wouldn't take a lot ta turn it inta a real riot, but I was behavin myself. Yah, I know. Strange concept, huh? Anyways, I just kinda enjoyed tha atmosphere. I only tripped one servin wench, an' I made sure she drenched a bard with tha ale instead of a barbarian. That got a good laugh instead of an explosion.

Cupe shook his head. He didn't get a laugh outta it like Mom or Unc would, but he didn't scold me ovah it eithah. Finally I said, "Okay, what are we doin here, Cupe?"

"What do you think?"

I frowned. "Well, I s'pose we're here ta get a couple tagethah."

"Yes. Now, which couple?"

I goggled at him. "How tha fuck am I s'posed ta know?"

"There are signs and symptoms. Look around."

"Aw, geez. Gimme a hint."

"All right. One's a man and the other's a woman."

"Oh, big help." I sighed and started studyin everyone. Signs an' symptoms he said. Well, there was a lotta gropin, leerin, and a good bit of droolin goin on, but ya could see that in every tavern in Greece, so it had ta be somethin else.

Tha bards an' minstrels were all takin turns performin, an' I was kinda half listenin. They knew their audience, and it was all war songs, an' I'd heard enough of them ta last me several millinea, what with workin with Ares. So, when tha ballad started, it kinda caught my attention.

Tha singah was almost skinny, an' nearly as pale as me, but not as good lookin. It was a pretty song, though, an' he had a nice voice.

"Where, oh where does love dwell?
That's a secret none can tell.
That's a mystery man may not know,
a puzzle that lays the wisest low.

But ask me, friend, for I can tell.
Yes, I know where love doth dwell.
My answer you must not despise:
Love lives in a pair of soft blue eyes.

Love lives in a voice so sweet and warm,
It's contained in a mortal woman's form,
with hair of gold and skin of cream,
A living, breathing, minstrel's dream.

I look upon love every day
and break my heart, for I cannot say
the things I feel so deep and strong.
I cannot speak, so I sing this song."

Oh, now how out of place was this? I'd found tha male half of tha pair, an' it wasn't hard ta find tha female. One of tha servin wenches was just standin on tha othah side of tha room, starin at tha singer with a dreamy look in her blue eyes. Her hair was more yella than gold, an' I don't know if I'd go so far as ta call her skin creamy, but ya remember how Anieli was when he was dreamin about Damara, right? Love kinda polishes people up.

I elbowed Cupid an' pointed. "Him an' her."

He beamed at me, an' I thought I was gonna bust my leathahs, swellin with pride. "Very good, Strife! Now, how would you suggest getting them together?"

"Ah, crap. Ya can't just stick 'em?"

"I could, but there's a simpler way, and it will bring them even closer."

I scowled. "I dunno, Cupe. Tha guy's so shy he won't even talk ta her--he sings at her. An' what with her experiences in this place, she's gonna think he's just comin onta her if he does say anythin."

"I have a way of getting around both of those problems." He held out his hand. "Loan me your knife, please."

Oh, now this was odd. "Why?"

"You'll see. I only need it for a moment." I pulled my knife outta my boot an' handed it to him. He walked up behind tha wench. All tha girls workin in this particular tavern wore tha same outfit. It was sleeveless an' shoulderless. In othah words, backless, an' tha front was just held up by a tie around tha neck. Cupe smiled at me, then flicked tha knife, neatly slicin through tha tie. Tha top dropped. Tha tray an' everything on it dropped. Tha boobs didn't. Yowza.

Tha tray an' tankards made a loud enough noise hittin tha floor. Her screamin sorta assured that she was tha center of attention. Ya nevah heard such a whistlin an' shoutin an stompin. I was speechless. That was a stunt I woulda been proud of, an' I nevah would've credited that Cupe coulda thought it up, much less carried it off. Still, funny as it was, I didn't see how it was gonna get those two tagetha, much less convince tha girl that tha guy was on tha up an' up.

Then tha minstrel jumped offa tha little dias he'd been performin on. He musta known that he couldn't get through tha mob of people, cause he didn't bothah ta try. He jumped from table ta table. Luckily tha plate he stepped in belonged to a mercinary that was too meserized by tha, uh, secondary sexual attributes (sheesh, I feell stupid callin those secondary. They were first class, all tha way) ta notice.

Anyway, while he was jumpin from table ta table, he was whippin off his shirt. Tha girl musta thought she was gonna get nailed right there in tha spilled ale, cause her eyes got as big as tha tray she'd been carryin. But when he landed in fronta her, he gently put tha shirt around her shoulders, pullin it closed. That was a good trick, cause he was so skinny, an she was so blessed that there wasn't a hell of a lot of slack.

There were some boos, but everybody decided ta just be grateful for tha unexpected show, an went back ta drinkin while wunna tha bards started recitin an epic that was sure ta have mosta them snorin in their cups in a little while.

Tha minstrel an' tha wench stood there, starin at each othah. Finally he said, "Are you all right, m' lady?"

Her mouth dropped open for a second. She wasn't used ta bein called 'lady', I s'pose, an' she blushed even deeper than she had when tha top had dropped. But she smiled, an' said, "Yes, sir. Thanks to your kind gallantry. You... you come here often, don't you?"

"I do."

She looked away shyly. "There are other, finer taverns in the area, places where your beautiful singing would be appreciated, where you could earn good coin."

"I like the company here."

She looked around at tha drunken ruffians, then looked at him. He smiled at her, an' she got what he meant. "I must give you your shirt back."

He shrugged. "It's yours. I don't need it. It's been warm lately."

"Oh, but if you go out into the night air without it, you could catch a chill! You'd become hoarse, and you couldn't sing those lovely, lovely songs." Ya could almost see him growin taller with each admirin word.

"Keep it as long as you need."

"I have another blouse in my room. Upstairs." She cut her eyes at him. "But I'm afraid one of these drunks might try to follow me up there."

His narrow chest puffed out. "They won't dare. I'll escort you, m'lady."

"Would you? Thank you so much... I don't know your name."

"Tesko."

"Tesko. My name is Esmerelda."

"Esmerelda." He said tha name like he was tastin it. "What a beautiful name." I looked at Cupe in disbelief, an' he shrugged. "Would you mind if I called you Esme?"

"You mean like a... a pet name?" She smiled shyly. "No."

"Good. You see, while Esmerelda is melifluous, it's hard to rhyme."

She gaped again. "You're going to write a song about me?"

"Esme," he kissed her hand. "Every song I write is about you."

"You really shouldn't go out into that damp air. You know, my bed is big enough for two."

Now it was his turn ta gape. We watched them go upstairs tagethah, an' Cupe nodded. "They'll be checking into one of Hera's temples pretty soon to get married."

"Okay, I don't get it. How did that convince her that he really loved her an' wasn't out for whatevah he could get?"

"Because if he'd just been interested in her body, he'd have stood there and stared like everyone else, wouldn't he?"

Light dawned. "O-h-h. Yeah, I see. Everyone else was just oglin, an' he reacted protectively."

"Yes, when you love someone, you value them, and you try to protect them." Even though tha men were still mutterin an' cursin, an' tha bard was still dronin, tha tavern seemed ta get kinda quiet. "And you just hope that they understand."

Cupe was starin at me, those eyes shiftin shades in tha flicker of lamplight so that I couldn't tell what color they were, an' that made me think of how hard it would be ta write a love song about Cupid, cause ya couldn't very well say his eyes were green an' gold an' blue an' sometimes grey, couldya? An' 'Cupid' would be a real bitch ta try to rhyme.

Well, tha technical part would be hard, anyway. Ya would nevah get it good enough ta actually sing it to him. But, say, if ya was just doin it because ya had ta do it, an' no one was evah gonna hear it but you, cause it said what you felt, an' no one could evah be allowed ta know that...

Somehow I don't think that would be hard at all.