At evening they found themselves in a slight dip. Ahead bulked the slopes they must climb tomorrow, rock piled on rock till a distant ridge stood back and saw-toothed against the sky. But in this dale a cataract foamed over a slate-blue cliff, into a lake tinged red with sundown. Closer at hand, the shore was low and still. A flock of wild ducks clattered off as the humans neared, to settle near the opposite bank, a mile away. The hush returned.
“I hoped we could reach this loch,” said Alianora. “If we leave some fishlines out o’ernicht, we can make a better breakfast than salt pork and hardtack.”
Hugi shook his big shaggy head. “I know na, lassie. This whole land smells evil, but here’s a stench I ne’er met.”
Holger inhaled a breeze tinged with damp green odors. “Seems okay to me,” he said. “Anyway, we can’t get around the lake before nightfall.”
“We could go back uphill and camp above,” said Carahue.
“Retrace our steps two miles?” Holger sneered. “Do so if you wish, sir. But I’m not afraid to sleep here.”
The Saracen flushed and bit back an angry retort. Alianora hurried to break the silence by exclaiming, “See, yon’s a good dry spot.”
Moss squelched underfoot, soaked as a sponge. But a great rock heaved above, the slant side spotted by lichen, the flat top covered with soil that bore short thick grass. A dead shrub near the middle offered ready-made fuel. Alianora spread her arms and said, “Why, ’tis as if prepared for us.”
“Aye, so ’tis,” grumbled Hugi. No one heeded. He must chop wood with a hatchet from the pack mule, while the men established a protective circle and took care of the animals. The sun slipped down under western heights but that half of the sky remained crimson, as if a fire had been lit by giants.
Alianora jumped up from the blaze she herself had kindled. “Whilst a good bed o’ coals gets started,” she said, “I’ll go set our hooks.”
“No, remain here, I beg you,” said Carahue. He sat cross-legged, his handsome dark visage turned merrily up to her. Somehow, through their hard traveling, he had kept his picturesque clothes nearly immaculate.
“But would ye no like a mess o’ fresh fish?”
“Aye, certes. However, ’tis worthless compared to one hour more, of this too short life, in the presence of utter beauty.”
The girl turned her head. Holger saw how the blush stained her face and bosom. Still more acutely was he aware of her young curves. within the swan tunic, of great gray eyes and soft lips and fluttering hands. “Nay,” she whispered. “I dinna know what ye means, Sir Carahue.”
“Sit down, and I shall do my poor best to explain.” He patted the turf beside him.
“Why… why—” She threw Holger a blurred look. He snapped his teeth together and turned his back. From the edge of an eye he saw her join the other man. The Saracen murmured:
“’Tis honorable that an errant knight
go boldly forth however dim the chances,
and not alone upon such times as lances
gleam high and then are shattered in the fight:
for when the golden daystar burns less bright
than one pure hope at which his heartbeat dances,
’tis honorable that an errant knight
go boldly forth however dim the chances.
And so, since your rare loneliness has quite
ensnared my soul with one or two sweet glances,
I dare ask more than lordship of ten Frances—
that you a moment linger in my, sight;
’tis honorable that an errant knight
go boldly forth however dim the chances.”
“Oh,” stammered Alianora, “I, I, I canna think what to say.”
“You need not say, fairest of damsels,” he answered. “Only be.”
“I’ll set the lines,” Holger barked. He snatched them up and scrambled down off the rock. His neck ached with the effort of not looking back.
By the time he was out of sight among the reeds, his shoes and hose were wet. A fat lot she’d care if he caught pneumonia. Now cut that self-pity out! If Alianora tumbled for such a slicker, Holger had none but himself to blame. He’d been given first refusal, hadn’t he? Only, under the circumstances he’d had to refuse. What a lousy trick to play on a man.