Hearts in Cups (24 page)

When she stepped back
around the bushes, she found Daffyd placing the saddlebags on Farion. The marks
of where they had camped had been obliterated such that a cursory glance would
reveal nothing. She handed him her bundle of clothing to be stuffed into one of
the saddle-bags and noticed his approving look. In order to lessen the strain
on Farion they had agreed to take turns riding and walking. Daffyd boosted her
onto the horse and led them forward into the morning light.

They traveled quickly
and soon were in the rugged hills and canyons of the upper foothills. Hollin
described where she thought a narrow pass into the mountains existed based on
what she had gleaned from the ring, and together they searched for clues to its
whereabouts. They made two frustrating forays into canyons that ended at the
base of cliffs before Hollin called for a halt in order to consult the ring.
Working with the ring took time and energy, but at last they came upon the
opening of a narrow, twisting rent in the side of the mountain that they were
climbing and Hollin proclaimed it to be the right path.

Peering up the rocky
incline, Daffyd turned to her and shook his head. "If your grace says that
this is the way, then this is the way that we shall go; but I am afraid that
your horse will never make it through here."

Hollin slid off
Farion's back and stood stroking his neck. Farion turned his head and rubbed
his face against her. She crooned to the large horse, saying nothing to Daffyd
immediately. When she did turn to face Daffyd, her eyes were glassy with unshed
tears. Swallowing hard, she began to take his saddle off. Silently, Daffyd
helped. The bridle was the last thing that she removed and when she had done so
the horse turned a confused eye on her.

"Perhaps he will
make his way back to Langstraad," Daffyd said encouragingly.

Hollin stopped stroking
Farion's neck and regarded the horse speculatively. Brightening perceptibly she
reached behind her neck to unfasten a thin gold necklace, withdrawing it from
next to her skin. Daffyd bent close to see a polished stone of pale lavender
agate dangling from its clasp on the gold chain. She held the stone to her lips
and then proceeded to braid it into Farion's long thick forelock. When she had
made certain that it was securely in place, she put her hands on either side of
the horse's head and touched her own forehead to Farion's. She stood in this
manner for many minutes. Releasing the horse at last, she bid him to go and
swatted him affectionately on the flank. Farion tossed his head, flicked his
tail and then turned and ambled back down the trail they had just come up.

"Is all well with
you?" Daffyd inquired as he threw the saddlebags over his shoulders.

With a dreamy nod
Hollin picked up her own bundle. "What about the saddle?"

"We shouldn't
leave it lying where it can be easily found," Daffyd asserted, as he
hoisted the saddle and bridle into his arms. "We'll carry it with us until
we find a place to dispose of it."

Slowly they wended
their way up the tortuous path into the mountain. Amidst the boulders and
stunted trees seeming to grow out of the very rocks themselves they picked
their way. Nightfall found them far advanced up the mountain but surrounded so
that all they could see in any direction were broken walls of rock. Daffyd had
deposited Farion's saddle and bridle deep in a cleft they had passed earlier,
covering it with a pile of rocks to ensure its concealment. Looking about them
now, he pointed to a network of cracks in the wall of rock above them. One of
the cracks offered the possibility of being a ledge. Leaving his bags on the
ground, he crawled spider-like up to it. It proved to be wider and deeper than
it had looked from the ground and Daffyd reckoned that it would offer better
protection than the exposure of the trail. The ledge was about twenty feet
long, thinning to a long crack at the far end where it rejoined the cliff. An
overhang of rock along the length of the ledge gave it the aspect of an open
cave and offered shelter from the elements.

He scrambled down and
used a rope to haul their bags and bundles onto the ledge. Hollin climbed up on
her own, letting Daffyd assist her only the last few feet. She looked about the
ledge and concurred with Daffyd that it would serve well for the night. Neither
had mentioned it to the other but both were anxious about the possibility of
being tracked. Hollin pushed the bundles back against the wall and sat down.

"I don't think we
should risk a fire tonight, your grace," Daffyd said, joining her.

"No, it would be
wisest not to," she agreed.

They ate yet another
frugal meal and drank deeply of the water that Daffyd had brought. True dark
settled into the canyon as, far above, stars began to burn intensely in the
black of the sky. A rising wind sent chill fingers down the canyon, seeking out
the cracks and hollows. Hollin shivered violently and wrapped her arms about
herself. Digging into his pack, Daffyd brought forth a small flask which he
uncorked and pressed into Hollin's cold hand. She sniffed, catching the aroma of
a strong spirituous liquor, and began to hand it back.

"Go on, your
grace," Daffyd said with a chuckle, pushing her hand away. "It works
wonders against cold and nerves."

"Is this an old
mountain remedy then?" she jested in return.

"It was much used
in the house of my uncle," he affirmed.

She took a sip and
followed it by attempting to smother a spasm of coughing. In a choking voice
she inquired if it was brewed from dragon's blood or old boots. He laughed,
patting her on the back to relieve the coughing. He urged another draught,
which she took after steeling herself to meet the effects. This time the fiery
sensation was not so unexpected and, as it settled in her chest and stomach,
definitely improved her sense of well-being. She handed the flask back, complimenting
him on his foresight. "And now I think we should try to get some
sleep," she finished.

"Yes, your grace.
There is one small matter..." He spoke hesitantly. "I beg you to
understand me aright: the night is cold and will get colder. Also, this ledge
is not very wide. It would be advisable for you and I to put our sleeping rolls
next to each other, as close to the back wall as is comfortable."

Though she could not
see his face clearly in the starlight, she understood his concern. Now that she
had accepted him as her traveling companion, she realized that she needed to
set him at ease. They might be many weeks or months in each other's company on
this journey and it was important that they come to an understanding of one
another.

"Your suggestion is
sensible.  We are far from Pentarin Palace and what was suitable there
might not always suit the practicalities of our current situation. This journey
will be difficult enough; we do not need to add further complications.  In
this venture you have agreed to be my paxman,  and also my guide and
comrade.

"You know about
traveling in rough country like this. I rely on your knowledge and good sense
to tell me what we need to do to survive." She paused and he saw her teeth
gleaming in the dark. "I am no young girl, prey to over-modest behavior,
and I have not led a totally sheltered life behind castle walls. As a child, my
father taught me to ride, to fly a hawk and to wield a sword. I have never
climbed through unknown mountains, but I am not afraid to try."

"I agree that
certain forms of behavior, proper at court, must be set aside for
expediency," a relieved Daffyd responded.  "I also appreciate
your grace's willingness to trust my judgment."

Hollin scrambled to her
knees. "Good. Now let us arrange our sleeping rolls, before your
mountain-brew wears off and I feel the chill again."

While Daffyd opened the
sleeping rolls, placing them as far away from the edge of the ledge as he
could, Hollin pushed the saddle bags deep into the overhang at their feet and
positioned the softer bundles to be used as pillows. When this was done, she
removed her boots and cloak, throwing the cloak on top to act as an additional
blanket, and slipped into her primitive bed. The rock beneath her was
unforgivingly hard though she knew that Daffyd had placed the blanket of last
night's shelter under her to give a modicum of padding. Daffyd lay down beside
her and there was a period of awkwardness as they both tried to find
comfortable positions, very aware of the other's proximity. The exertions of
the day soon proved stronger than their discomfort, and they fell asleep.

Both Daffyd and Hollin
were startled into wakefulness in the same instant. Back in the crevice of
their ledge it was still dim with shadow, but the opposite wall of the canyon
was lit with the rising sun. Daffyd lay on his side with his arm resting
protectively over Hollin who lay close to him. Unconsciously in the cold hour
of night they had each sought the warmth of the body lying beside them.
Abashed, Daffyd began to remove his arm and roll away, when the sound that had
first awakened him caught his ear.

The wind had died and
along with the dawn singing of birds he heard the unmistakable sound of a shod
hoof striking rock. Hollin had also heard the sound and started to say
"Farion," but Daffyd's arm suddenly tightened on her and he shook his
head. Their faces only inches apart, they stared into each other's eyes and
strained their ears; coupled with the sound of moving hooves was the creak of
leather. The sound of another horse joined the first and an indistinct mutter
of voices came to them. As the horses came closer, the voices became
intelligible.

"It's a fool's
mission. No one came up this forsaken bit of canyon."

"Horse tracks came
this way..."

"No, only to the
entrance, then they veered off. I tell you, if she has escaped then she'll head
back to her own lands."

"Then why did the
horse come up here? And there were two sets of footprints."

"Made by men's
boots. I don't know what to think, but no one's been up this way and my horse
can't go much further. Anyway, it probably dead-ends at the bottom of a cliff,
all of these canyons do that, and I'm damned if I'm going to start mountain
climbing..."

"The earl's not
going to be too happy if he find's that she's escaped."

"And I'm telling
you, no one's been up this way. Come on, let's be getting back." The
voices began to recede. "Queer business all around. Be glad when we've
proper soldier's work to do..."

In stiffened silence,
the two fugitives waited until all sounds had ceased before breathing easily
again. Daffyd loosened his hold, rolled over and slithered to the edge of the
ledge. No one was in sight. If it had not been for Hollin's corroboration, he
would have thought it a mere dream. She joined him, lying flat on her stomach.
Putting his finger to his lips he indicated that they should retreat to the
back of the ledge.

"Should we wait to
make certain that they won't return or shall we go on now?" she whispered,
pulling on her boots.

"Give them a few
more minutes and then let us continue in all haste," he advised.
"They seem to think that this canyon leads nowhere. Are you certain that
this is the right way?"

Hollin nodded
decisively. "Yes, this is the way we must go."

They ate some of the
dried fruit and drank from the water-skin while waiting to be sure the soldiers
had left the canyon. Then Daffyd rebundled their meager belongings into more
manageable packs, using ropes to enable them to be carried on their backs. When
he judged sufficient time had elapsed, he lowered the packs, followed by the
duchess, to the ground and climbed down himself. They quickly distributed
everything between them and started up the trail, moving as silently and
rapidly as they were able.

The canyon proceeded to
get narrower and rockier the higher they climbed, but Daffyd always managed to
find a way to continue up. By early afternoon they had succeeded in climbing
out of the canyon and into a forest of oak and aspen. They continued walking
until the sound of rushing water brought them to a stream; the water danced in
the dappled shade of the trees. Here they rested and while Hollin sat on a
rock, cooling her feet in the swirling water, Daffyd wandered upstream with
hooks, lines and a net to see if dinner might also be lurking in the stream.

Left alone, Hollin
unbound her hair and with a cake of ugly yellow soap, gleaned from one of
Daffyd's saddlebags, washed her abundance of coppery hair. When he still did
not return, she quickly stripped off her clothes and gave the rest of her body
the same treatment she had given her hair. Disdainfully she picked through her
clothing and washed those pieces that she hesitated to put on her newly cleaned
body. Dressed again, but still tingling with the invigoration of the cold
water, she sat on a rock beside the stream and let the warmth of the spring sun
dry her hair.

Meanwhile, Daffyd,
enjoying the game of luring fish onto his hooks, had lost track of time. It was
later than he had anticipated when he started back downstream with his catch.
The hour of fishing had revived his spirits and given him hope. In the
mountains he knew what he should do and how it must be done. Life was
simplified to the acts of procuring food and finding shelter. He had almost
forgotten why he was there when he broke through the trees and glimpsed the
duchess sitting on her rock in the stream. Her back was towards him, so he
stood for a moment taking delight in her beauty before he walked forward and
made his presence known.