Jack Whyte - The Eagles' Brood

It was the darkest part of the night by the time I left him, and I was twice "challenged by sentries as I made my way to the main gate, carrying a torch that was beginning to burn low. I had completely forgotten my promise to talk to Donuil the Hibernian. My horse was saddled and waiting for me as I had ordered, and I could see the speculation in the eyes of the guards as I approached.

"Did the trooper I sent out get back yet?"

"Yes, Commander. About an hour ago."

"Good. He'll be asleep by now. Lucky man. And my masseur down at the villa will be cursing my sleeplessness, which is now his. How long till dawn?" ·

They glanced at each other, and the one who had spoken before replied, "About two and a half hours, Commander."

"Good. By that time I'll be bathed, oiled, rubbed down and wide awake, though my name will be unkindly mentioned by the people I'll be inspecting at such an ungodly hour. Take this, will you?" I handed him my guttering torch, and pulled myself up into the saddle. "One thing about being prepared for a nasty, unpopular job is that nobody else ever is. Good night to you!" I kicked my horse forward as they opened the great gates for me, and left them looking at: each other, no doubt in agreement that all officers were insane and Moody-minded tyrants.

The moon had set, but die skies were clear, and as my eyes adjusted to the starlight I discovered that I could see more than adequately for the journey down the road to the villa, where lights were burning in the bath house.

XIX

In less than two hours, I was riding again in the direction of Cassandra and Avalon. I had steamed and bathed and dozed, and I had been oiled and perfumed and scraped and pummelled until my body tingled. I felt good, and my mind was attuned to the problems facing us, and to the steps we would take to solve them. I arrived on the hilltop before the first hint of dawn appeared in the sky, having left my horse tethered below, safely out of sight, and I sat on the summit and watched the eastern sky give birth to the new day, as I thought my own thoughts about the young woman who slept soundly in the valley below me.

As soon as there was enough light to see by, I went to the entrance to the pathway and scoured the ground for signs of human passage. There were none. Nothing at all to indicate that anyone had passed this way in years. I had taken great care to avoid leaving any marks in the past, and the path, though clearly enough a path, was freshly overgrown with grass and undisturbed. I had to be content with that, since it would have been impossible to hide the pathway entirely. My examination complete, I tried to think of anything I had missed—anything that might in any way betray Cassandra's refuge to a casual passer-by, but I could think of nothing, although all at once, it seemed, there were more than a dozen good reasons in my mind for going down to her. I should check that she had enough food and fuel, for one thing. I should make sure that her hut was warm enough, now that the nights were growing colder, and I realized that I had not brought the clothes with me that I had scrounged from Aunt Luceiia. I cursed myself for my thoughtlessness, but was able to console myself that I would have good reason to return with them later. My mind turned to its real reason for wanting to see her, and I felt my belly tighten at the thought of climbing into her warm bed and feeling her taut young muscles clench against me. Tonight, I promised myself, and began to make my way back to my horse.

At the very top of the rim of the hollow hill, however, I stopped dead in my tracks, my flesh crawling in horror as the aroma of wood-smoke gently drifted into my nostrils. Her fire! She must just have lit it or rekindled it from embers, piling new twigs and branches to feed it, and if I could smell it from here, so would anyone else who came within smelling distance. I turned on my heel and headed back the way I had come, wondering already how I was going to persuade her that she would have to live without fire for at least a week. I had to convince her of the danger of her fire without reawakening a fear of rape and mutilation in her mind.

I had no doubt of the welcome with which she saw me entering her little valley. She climbed all over me, her warm mouth covering my face with kisses that I was happy to return. But eventually I took a firm grip on myself and pushed her gently away, holding her firmly by the wrists until she stood looking at me expectantly. When I was sure I had her attention, I pointed to the fire and made a show of sniffing the smoke. She frowned at me at first, and then her face cleared and she smiled, tugging at the fabric of her tunic, trying to hold it up to me with one hand and beckoning me to approach with the other. Wondering what in Hades was in her mind, I approached her and let her pull my unresisting head down to her tunic. It smelled of wood- smoke! She had understood me.

Encouraged, I smiled and nodded at her and went back to the fire, where I traced the path of the smoke upwards with my open hands, pointing to where it was drifting into and over the trees. She followed with her eyes and nodded again to me, her smile now a little more uncertain. I kept my face solemn as I mimed the way the smoke drifted, and how I, or anyone else, smelled it in passing. My nostrils twitching like a rabbit, I feigned surprise, identification, then a search among the bushes, sniffing all the time, and then discovery of her fire.

She understood, watching me closely. Convinced now that nothing I did would escape her, I crossed to the pile of wood beside the fire and selected small, dry sticks that would burn with a minimum of smoke. I carried these a little way from the fire and lit them with a branch from the existing fire. When they were burning brightly, I indicated that there was no smoke, or very little. Quickly then, I crossed to the nearest bush and tore off a green twig which I threw on the big fire. It began to smoke immediately, and I pulled it off and stamped it out. I then took my helmet off, filled it with water from the lake, and doused the large fire, leaving the small one burning clearly.

When I looked at her again she nodded her head firmly to show she understood and then pointed to the shrivelled green bough I had stamped out. She waved her arms to indicate smoke and shook her head in a determined negative. No more smoke. I breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude for her obvious intelligence, but her next series of movements worried me again. She moved close to me and took the helmet from my hands, holding it upright, and then laid her hand flat against my bronze breastplate, after which she drew the sword from the scabbard by my side, bracing the helmet against the sheath for purchase. I made no move to stop her. She looked at the sword and then at me and then she gestured up at the hills around us, swinging the sword, and sniffed, looking around her for the source of the smell, which meant, You are wearing armour, dressed for war, and you mean that there are others up there, enemies, who might smell my fire, don't you?

I nodded slowly and emphatically, and she returned my nod. Then she replaced the sword in its scabbard, returned to the lake to refill my helmet with water, and doused the remaining fire. She was perfectly calm and self-possessed, and I knew there would be no smoke coming from the valley until I returned. I reached out and grasped her gently by the upper arms and watched her great eyes watching my lips.

"Woman," I told her, smiling, "beautiful, wondrous woman, you have me bewitched!" She watched my lips move, and cocked her head slightly to the side in that enchanting way of hers, before moving close to me and slipping her arms around me, armour and all. Time passed as we stood there hugging each other, I know not how long, and then I became aware again of where and who I was, and of what remained for me to do. She felt me tense as the awareness came to me, and leaned backwards in my arms, raising an inquiring eyebrow and a pointed finger towards the path.