Saga of the Old City

Chapter 19

The searching guards could be no more than fifty feet from the place now. Within a very short time, light from a torch or a lantern would reveal the form of the would-be escapee, even though the webs above and around Evaleigh were very thick. Gord wished there was room for him to turn around, but he knew the cylinder was barely wide enough for forward progress.

“Try drawing up your legs and pushing with your boots!” Gord called over his shoulder to her as loudly as he dared. “Push your forearms tight against the walls to anchor them and hunch your body ahead wiggle-wise!” he added. Then he moved ahead a bit to see if there was any place that might afford him space to reverse himself and lend a hand.

A big bug of some sort plopped on the back of his neck just then, and Gord reacted with an involuntary sweep of his hand to remove the vermin before it bit him. His hand did its work, and he was surprised to notice that it did not make contact with any surface above his head. In a flash Gord rolled over, and with his back to the floor reached upward. There was a square, vertical shaft here, and it allowed him to rise cautiously erect. Once upright he turned, lowered himself until he was again on his stomach, and now found himself in a position to crawl back toward Evaleigh.

“Oh!” Evaleigh said, startled at first contact with his hand.

Before she could utter anything else, Gord grabbed her by the upper arms and yanked her toward him. He worked backward down the pipe a short distance, enough to straighten out his arms, and pulled her toward him again. She was well clear of the constricting entrance now, and able to move on her own, so Gord merely backed a bit further, stood up once again in the shaft he had discovered, and quickly climbed upward a couple of feet.

“Gord! Where are you?” Evaleigh whispered into the darkness.

“Pssst! Ahead! I’m in a shaft that goes up. When you hear me clearly, use your hand to find the opening above your head,” he instructed the frightened girl. “I’ll keep talking, and I’ll climb up farther so you’ll be able to stand in here, too…. Are you at the place yet?”

Gord heard her moving directly beneath him. “Yes, I’m going to stand up now,” she said. “But I can’t climb!”

“I’ll help, so don’t worry-we’re as good as free now!” Actually, Gord had no idea where the shaft would lead, or if they would ever escape, but here was a chance. This was no time for doubts!

There was a good foothold just a couple of feet up into the shaft, and using this advantage, the young man braced himself and reached down between his feet to where he felt Evaleigh’s hands grasping at his booted legs in a desperate attempt to move upward in the chimney. As the sounds of the search in the corridor outside grew even louder and closer, her small hand found his groping one, and the little fingers closed on it with surprising strength-the grip of terror. He hauled and she came upward, feet scrabbling noisily on the sides of the shaft as she did so.

“I hear something in there!” A shouted voice echoed through the pipe and up the shaft. “And look-there’s been something crawling around this damned drain!”

So they had found the exitway quickly, thought Gord, but could they get through the opening as easily as he had? That was the key question now, for they needed time to get up this chimney and to wherever it led. The shouts and commands that followed indicated that armor was being stripped off for an attempt at entry. Some guard tossed his torch into the narrow passage, and it rolled nearly all the way to the opening in which Gord and Evaleigh were hiding. It was time to move upward as swiftly as possible, while the noise and confusion of the intended pursuit masked their ascent.

Holding Evaleigh in place with one arm, Gord groped upward with the other, seeking a crack in which he could lodge his fingers to pull himself up farther. Then his spirit leapt as his exploring digits closed around the cold metal of an iron rung! Grasping it firmly, he used his other arm and his feet to help his frightened companion upward at the same time. Fortunately, the hard soles of Evaleigh’s boots made it possible for her feet to find purchase on the sides of the chimney, so Gord did not have to bear all of her weight in addition to his own. And after this bit of practice, she became fairly good at hoisting herself up.

The pair clambered up until Gord’s waist was opposite the rung set into the stones of the wall and the top of Evaleigh’s head was even with his shoulders. Thanks to the faint illumination afforded by the torch, Gord discovered another metal rung about two feet above the first one, in what seemed to be the start of a ladder arrangement that would enable them to ascend more easily.

The sounds from beneath them were louder now; someone was in the passage! But no sooner had fear begun to rise in his throat than Gord heard a deep voice cry out: “I’m stuck! Push!” Gord allowed himself a slight smile as he grasped the second rung and boosted himself up another few inches. As he did this, his shoulder pushed against a projection on the wall opposite the rungs. The projection pivoted smoothly upward under the pressure he had accidentally applied. At the same time, a dull grinding sound came from beneath. In a moment the light from the torch below was shut off.

“What happened?” the girl inquired.

“I think my shoulder tripped something that closed the mouth of this shaft!” Gord answered excitedly. “This must be a secret means of escape placed here by some bygone lord-and long forgotten, no doubt, else the passage would have been shut tight and we would now be worming our way hopelessly toward some deep sink or cistern.”

Gord felt the beautiful girl shudder at the thought of what fate could have been theirs. He helped her move up until her feet were braced against the lowest of the metal rungs. Then he felt his way a few feet farther upward, confirming to himself that the metal bars did indeed progress up the chimney, and that they were strong enough and anchored well enough to hold under his weight. The thoughtfulness of the builder in making them thick was appreciated by Gord, although he was sure that time and decay had weakened them sufficiently to bring breakage from hard or heavy usage. Neither he nor Evaleigh would be so careless as to unduly strain these metal rungs.

Positioned just above the girl, he pulled out the candle stub once again, sparked the tinder, and got the wick alight. Sure enough, more rungs led upward, reaching into the darkness beyond the area illuminated by the tiny candle flame.

“I’ll ascend slowly, one rung at a time,” he told Evaleigh. “You climb just behind me, being careful not to place all of your weight on any one rung, and holding firm so as not to slip or fall. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I can do it easily here. This is just like a ladder!” Evaleigh sounded slightly hysterical, but she climbed calmly enough. She also climbed quickly, so that Gord was forced to stop looking back to watch out for her and instead devote his attention to keeping a good pace ahead of her.

The shaft led them up no more than another thirty feet. Then it opened into a cylindrical cell about twenty feet in diameter, the vertical passage coming out about three feet from the base of the wall. The center of the cell’s domed ceiling was about eight feet above Gord’s head. There was nothing in the place except a tangled heap of old, filthy rags lying a short distance from the shaft opening and an ancient lantern a few feet away to the other side. The latter still held the remains of a thick candle. This Gord set burning with the small taper he held, extinguishing it as the larger one came to life.

“How do we get out of this place?” asked Evaleigh uneasily as she gazed at the unbroken expanse of stone that formed the walls of the cell.

“No place such as this would exist,” Gord told her in reply, “unless the builder had made some means of exit. Its purpose is secret escape, and therefore we must look for a hidden means of egress. Unless the entrance is secret too, the rest would not be, lady,” Gord explained.

“Oh,” said the girl, brushing dirty hand against smudged cheek. “But how do we find a secret means of leaving this tiny place? The air here is bad, I can hardly breathe, and the walls seem to enclose and suffocate me!”

“Help me look for marks on floor or wall, which could mean stone moving on stone,” Gord said as he put down the lantern near the center of the chamber. “Don’t worry-it won’t take long, for I am skilled in this sort of thing, being a thief.” Gord too noticed that the air within the room was stuffy and stale. It was damp and reeking as well, and he suspected that their breathing and the flaming candle helped to make it worse.

So, there was more than one reason for them to hurry. They might still be pursued from below, if there was a way to open the chimney from the other side. And certainly, they had to get out of this chamber before the bad air overcame them. Both of those facts seemed almost immaterial to Gord at the moment, however, for something else was creeping over him. Gord’s spine crawled and an insufferable sense of foreboding seemed to weigh upon his whole being, almost as if the cell were indeed contracting, closing in to crush and entomb them both. What was wrong?

There was a faint stirring behind him. Gord spun, catlike, his hand going instantly to his dagger. There was a little puff of dust just above the pile of rags…. Had some air blown just then? Evaleigh was already busy inspecting their prison, working the area of the chamber farthest from the pile of rags, and she seemed oblivious to any incipient menace. Gord scolded himself silently, shrugged, and set about to join her in the search. His imagination was getting the better of his common sense-and that was no way to get out, he told himself. Still, no harm in keeping his dagger at the ready….

“I will work on the opposite side, over here,” he said. “Take your time, lady. Better to be certain than miss the clue we must find.”

Evaleigh, who was bent over scrupulously examining every inch of the floor and wall in her vicinity, only muttered a distracted agreement. Gord turned and went toward the curving stone across from her. He started to kick the bundle of mildewed cloth near the base of the wall, but somehow he was unable to bring his booted foot into contact with such unwholesome material. The heap actually had a manlike form, Gord noted as he gazed down at it-too long, too thin, but manlike nonetheless.

Then, even as he stared in horrible fascination, the rags silently twitched and twisted themselves into an even closer semblance of humanity, and from the heap an odor of mold and putrescent flesh wafted its way into Gord’s nostrils. Gord took a step back with an involuntary gasp of fear and disgust. The stuff was trying to form itself! Whatever it was, it meant them no good, and they were trapped with it!

Fortunately, Evaleigh was engrossed in her search. She had not looked in Gord’s direction for some time, and apparently the stench that rose from the rags was not potent enough to reach her attention.

“I think I feel something,” she called, keeping her back to Gord as she spoke and running her hand along an area low on the wall she was examining.

“Good work, my lady!” Gord replied with a shudder as the rag-thing flopped wetly in its efforts to raise its upper half. “I’ll join you in just a moment.”

Now the man-shaped clump of rotting fiber was in a position similar to that of a person seated on the ground, armlike appendages propping its headless torso upright, the “legs” drawing toward the body so as to enable it to arise to a fully erect stance! And a thick, wormy thing was slowly arising from within that horrible torso-a thing of sickly gray with yellow, pulsing veins visible through its membranous skin.

If this worm-creature was the “head” of the rag “body,” Gord knew what to do. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and swung the keen dagger in an arc. A moldy twist of rags flew upward, as an arm would to block a blow, but the razor-edged blade cut through the filthy cloth and struck the worm just below the bulbous upper protrusion that must have been its head.

Reeking matter splattered the nearby wall and ran down it in viscous, gray-yellow strands. The severed bulb fell noiselessly onto the rags and left a foul stain on the fabric and stone it touched as it rolled a few feet and disappeared down the shaft. A sigh seemed to issue from the heap of rags, an almost-human sound. Then the whole pile collapsed back into formlessness, making a disgusting, squishy sound as it did so.

“Gord, what are you doing?” Evaleigh, on hands and knees, was looking sidewise in his direction, over her shoulder. “Stop poking around in those dirty old tatters and help me! I think I have our way out!”

Gord shook away his horror and disgust, surreptitiously wiped his blade on a bit of the rags, and slipped the dagger back into its sheath as he advanced across the cell. “What have you found?” he replied, pretending nothing had happened, as he picked up the lantern from the center of the chamber and moved closer.

“Here!” cried the girl. “The exit is right here! You were right, dear Gord, my rescuer! The place was easy to find.”

Gord peered at the spot she was pointing to, holding the lantern close and willing his hand not to shake. The entire episode with the rag-thing had consumed only a few seconds of time, but the memory of it would last much longer.

After a few seconds of careful scrutiny, Gord managed to make out faint scratches on the edge of a block that protruded slightly from the wall. On his own it would have taken him hours to detect these marks, unless he was very lucky and caught the striations just so in a good light. Evaleigh had not had the benefit of such illumination. Gord looked at the girl with new respect. Perhaps the tales he had heard about elven eyesight were true, in which case thank gods for her heritage!

“Move back just a little please, dear lady, and I shall try to find the means by which it is opened,” he said to her and moved to examine the wall with eye and fingers. “You are keen-eyed and clever indeed, lady!”

“Thank you, sir!” Evaleigh replied with a small curtsey and a note of cheerfulness in her voice for the first time since this escapade had begun.

They were by no means safe, thought Gord, but they were still at large and undiscovered. There was now real hope-so long as the rag-thing did not regain its unnatural life again. A small stone moved inward under his touch, and as it did so a small crack widened, revealing and freeing a wide, low panel of rock. By pressing on one end of it, Gord discovered that the panel pivoted around a center post. He pulled on the slab until it stuck into the chamber, perpendicular to the curved wall. The opening was not huge, but easily big enough to enable them to pass into a narrow stone tunnel beyond it. Gord took time to reclose and lock the panel in its original place, feeling considerable relief as he did so. Neither the guards, nor anything else, would have an easy time following their route. Then the pair started to follow the passage that had been concealed behind the secret door, Evaleigh carrying the lantern and Gord with dagger in hand.

After a short distance the narrow corridor dead-ended at a broader one that led both left and right. Gord opted for the left, saying that they could try the other direction if this one failed to offer something positive soon. Before long they entered a larger place, pillared and arched, that was the nexus of many tunnels. In addition to the one they had entered from, there were four other passages leading off from the place, and a spiral flight of stone stairs leading upward as well. Gord disliked the sight of the steps, and after a moment of deliberation, he set off to the right, his female companion in tow.

“What is this place, Gord?” asked Evaleigh.

“Towns and cities are full of surprises like this,” he began. “In addition to sewers, drains, cisterns, caverns, and catacombs, there is a warren of escape tunnels and secret adits-the highways of many who wish not to be seen.”

“All cities?” Evaleigh asked incredulously.

“I can’t speak for all of them, only a few. I’ve encountered this sort of passage before. It is part of a hidden means of communication and escape, from its look, and one that hasn’t been neglected, either-so let’s press on!”

Evaleigh had allowed her pace to flag, but at Gord’s urging she picked it up again. They were nearing the end of the passage anyway. After another ten or fifteen steps, it ended at a narrow spiral stairway that had been crudely chiseled from the solid rock. There was a heap of old clothing in a nearby hamper-a sure sign that this passage was still used for something-and Gord stopped for a second to root around in it.

After selecting two somewhat dirty and malodorous cloaks, the young man told Evaleigh to take her own off and replace it with one of the others. She demurred, but Gord insisted, stating that although hers was now soiled and tattered, its workmanship and quality were still too easily noted. They compromised by locating a garment that fit over the cloak she wore, thus hiding it and adding a bit of seeming bulk to her slight figure.

Creeping up the steps with caution, Gord was ready for anything. All he came to was a manure pit.

“Whew!” he said involuntarily when he opened the tiny concealed door that led from the spiral staircase to the dung heap. “Now I know why these cloaks stunk so!”

Evaleigh held her nose and grimaced, but stepped ahead as rapidly as her companion did, crossing the heaps of manure and bits of rotting straw and heading for a wooden ladder at the far end of the pit. They moved up again, their ascent ending when Gord pushed open a trap door and emerged into a wooden shed containing wheelbarrows, spades and forks, and a small cart. The walls of the shed were old, weathered, and warped, so here and there holes and cracks could be seen. Gord reached over and shuttered the lantern quickly, keeping only a small slot to cast a little beam of light. By its ray they found the door, which opened at ground level into a stable area of some sort. Gord extinguished the lantern and discarded it, finding the moonlit sky to be sufficient for easy travel, and they left the shed behind. As they exited, Gord heard Evaleigh draw her first deep breath in some time.

After they had left the stable area and walked for a while, the area began to look familiar to Gord. He put off saying anything until he was sure, and then exclaimed happily, “We’re in Ratswharf! I know this area well. Just up ahead is Tannery Street and beyond is the Umber Stream. We’ll go to our right here and be at the docks in no time!”

Trying to sound as enthused as he was, Evaleigh responded, “Yes, I’m free at last! You are my champion, Gord!”

“Thank you, Evaleigh, but neither you nor I are quit of Boss Dhaelhy yet. His writ extends here and a long way around, too. But now we are about to start on the second stage of our escape….”

His voice trailed off as they came to the wharf where hides were unloaded. The odor here was unmistakable too, and actually worse than that of the dung they had recently had to tread across. As the girl made a face and held her nose, Gord pulled her closer to him. At the edge of the wharf, they walked so as to enable him to peer over the side toward the water below. After a bit he stopped, climbed nimbly down the piling of the pier, and used his foot to pull on a rope tied there. A small skiff attached to the other end appeared under him, and he dropped lightly into the boat.

“Quick, now, Evaleigh,” Gord urged. “Sit on the edge of the pier and slide off and into the boat. I’ll catch you so we don’t capsize.”

The girl shrugged and complied without further hesitation. After all she had been through this night, what was one little leap into a bobbing cockleshell? Although the skiff rocked violently when she landed, Gord was true to his word, both catching her neatly and maintaining the stability of the small craft. After helping her find a seat in the bow, he moved to the stern and picked up the sweep that was resting there. A few quick pushes and pulls, and Gord had sculled the boat out of sight of the wharf and into the current. His sculling and the flow of the Artonsamay soon carried them through the wide Ratspool, where various small ships and barges were moored, and on down the river.

Keeping well to the left of midstream, Gord passed the lowering blackness of Stoink’s walls and towers without incident. He used the oar mainly to steer now; the current was swift in this area. After an hour, there was still no sign of pursuit, and the walled town was far to the north, for the river bent sharply south after passing the place.

“Someone might eventually put a missing boat together with your escape, lady, but not for some time, I think. Our only real worry now would be magical assistance in hounding us down-I know little of dweomercraft, and less of how to combat it.”

“For once I come to the rescue, Gord,” Evaleigh said with a musical laugh. “Of magic and enspellment I know a little, for my dear grandmother-great-great-grandmother, really-taught me some of that art, though nothing potent or useful here. That kind woman did bestow upon me something that will serve us now, I think. Wait, I’ll show you.”

Gord watched the girl shed her cloaks. The golden light of the newly risen sun revealed that she wore tunic and hose of dove gray. “You are dressed as a boy, lady, but no such youth ever displayed such a figure in those garments!” he said.

Evaleigh smiled her pleasure at the compliment but kept up her work, tugging here and there at the leather strip girding her narrow waist. From it she drew a flat, milky crystal. “Look at this!” she said proudly, handing it to him.

The evident pride and assurance the small stone gave her made Gord examine it closely. He noted that the crystal was carved so as to resemble a bird with wings folded down as if to shelter something before it. The thing was bound with silver wire, and a silver chain was fastened to it for wearing around the neck. He handed it back to the girl.

“It is a well-crafted bit of jewelry, lady, but looks to be of no great value, I fear. Why, it would fetch no more than a few-”

“This is no trinket!” Evaleigh interrupted with more laughter. “It is an amulet of power, little fonkin-a protection against any seeking me by means of spell or dweomer.”

“I see, lady,” Gord responded respectfully. Then, with a bit of an edge in his voice, he added, “What is this ‘fonkin’ you call me?”

Evaleigh explained with a giggle that it was an elvish term for someone silly or ignorant. “Be not offended, Gord, for I employed it only as an endearment,” she said sweetly.

Now it was Gord’s turn to be flattered by her words, and he smiled at her. She returned the smile, meanwhile fastening the chain so the amulet was secured around her neck. The process interested Gord, for the tunic was thin, and when it was drawn tight by her movements, some most interesting details of her anatomy were revealed. Evaleigh seemed not to mind the scrutiny a whit, but Gord was careful not to overdo it.

“Make a pallet of the cloaks in the bottom of this skiff, Evaleigh, and sleep a bit,” he said. “I’ll steer us carefully so as to avoid contact with any other craft.” The girl started to object, but Gord was firm, and Evaleigh did admit she was very tired indeed. “With you out of sight,” he added, “anyone passing or observing us from the bank will think I am a fisher, alone and of no interest. It is safest this way.”

Evaleigh remained asleep through the morning and well into the afternoon. When he was sure no other craft were in sight, Gord allowed himself to doze now and again, but he always remained in a sitting position so that he would not sleep long. Serenity, not fatigue, was making him drowsy; he was young and long accustomed to remaining awake for many hours at a stretch when he had to. As the afternoon shadows lengthened, his companion began to stir and make little moaning sounds. Whether they arose from discomfort from the hard bed or from a dream, Gord knew she would soon wake and would be thirsty and hungry, as he was.

There was a small tributary of the Artonsamay at hand, and he sculled the boat into its waters, working hard to pass through the strong flow where the two streams met. When the girl did awaken a half-hour or so later, he had managed to work their skiff well up the creek to a sheltered bank where willows hung down and hid the boat. As the prow bumped against the shore, Evaleigh sat up and looked around, asking where they were. Gord helped her out of the skiff, and soon both were seated on the soft grass beneath a huge, old weeping willow. They were famished, and the dry and tasteless rations that Gord brought forth from a wallet was not much, but it helped to quell the pangs of hunger when washed down with the clear water from the stream at their feet. Gord closed his eyes for a minute, enjoying the comfortable feelings of a full belly and the yielding grass beneath his tired body. A minute became a few minutes, and…

“Wake up!” Evaleigh was shaking him gently but urgently.

Gord’s eyes flew open. It was fully dark-nearly lightless here beneath the willow. He had been asleep for hours!

“Listen, Gord, someone is coming!” Evaleigh’s tone was filled with fright.

“Yes, I hear,” he told the girl, taking her arm and squeezing it in reassurance. “We should be safe enough here, if we are quiet.”

Voices and the clopping sound of horses moving slowly came clearly to them on the night breeze. Peering out from the shelter of the drooping branches, Gord saw several riders outlined against the sky. They were heading for the general area of the copse of willows, but not directly at the place where he and Evaleigh were concealed. Soon Gord could count their number and hear what the riders were saying.

“Over there, Weasel, see the dead one?”

“Shit, I ain’t blind, Mossback, I’m going for it!”

“Shut up, you two,” a fellow at the end of the file of eight horsemen said sharply. “You’ll wake up some wight!”

“Ah, blow it out your ass, Barl! Nobody or nothing in this godforsaken place to hear,” Weasel retorted.

They rode past, bickering and bantering. About fifty yards farther on, the men dismounted. Although it was a dark night, Gord could discern the goal they had sought-a large, dead tree on a small knoll. Whatever business they had there was concluded in an hour or so, and they again passed, heading back the way they had come, but traveling silently now.

Gord and Evaleigh stayed put until morning. Then he arose and instructed her to remain hidden. In the early light, it was an easy matter for him to follow the trail the men had left and see where they had stopped. It appeared to be a camp, with an old, dead fire. Gord knew no such fire had existed the night before, and it immediately occurred to him that the ashes of a “fire” would be a good place to hide something. Some further examination discovered little else in the area, so he decided to play his hunch.

After a few moments of digging with dagger and knife, one of Gord’s blades struck metal. More digging brought forth a cache of silver and electrum-far more than was practical for himself and Evaleigh to carry. Gord scooped out several dozen of each type of coin, replaced ashes on top of the remainder, and made the whole look as undisturbed as possible.

This find was truly a boon, in more ways than one. Of the hundred gold orbs that had been Gord’s share of the loot he and Gellor had gained in Holdroon, some had been spent on information and forged documents, and the bulk had been left behind. When he rescued Evaleigh, Gord had with him but ten of the gold coins. Now he could keep the orbs as security, with plenty of other metal to spend first. The spending of gold attracted attention, and he and the girl must do their utmost to remain unnoticed.

Gord returned to Evaleigh and told her briefly of what he had found while helping her back into her hiding place in the bottom of the boat. Evaleigh accepted the unexpected wealth without comment. Noblewomen thought little of such things, Gord supposed. They took the skiff up the tributary stream for a few more miles, until Gord felt it was safe for them to begin traveling overland. They left the boat moored in a secluded cove on the shore of the stream and followed a rutted dirt track leading due east. Eventually they came to a hamlet where they hitched a ride on a farm cart heading for market in a nearby village. This proved to be a place where they could find horses, so Gord and Evaleigh were soon mounted, well supplied, and traveling on their own again.

After a week of hard travel, they finally arrived in Mid-meadow, exhausted and dirty, but otherwise happy and in excellent spirits. Gord thought he had never been happier, despite the deprivation they had been through, and Evaleigh was radiant. Although they were still in some danger, it was slight, so after discussion, they decided to find the best inn, rest and restore themselves, and buy new clothes before setting out again for Evaleigh’s homeland in the Blemu Hills.

Locating a good inn was a simple matter, and new linens and garments were also easy to come by. Soon, the pair were settled in small, clean, and comfortable rooms, luxuriating in great tubs of steaming water provided at considerable cost but deemed by both well worth the coppers. Evaleigh, looking refreshed and even more radiant now that she was again properly attired, joined Gord in his chamber where they were served a hot supper and cool wine. Replete, they both sat back, sipped their wine, and smiled at each other.

“Gord, at last I feel truly free,” Evaleigh sighed. “Free of that bandit pig who calls himself a noble sovereign, free of his confinement, free of threat of slavery. And I owe it all to you!”

Evaleigh’s violet eyes were warm. Her long hair, the color of spun platinum, was free, flowing across her shoulders and down her back. The gown she wore this night was new, a simple one of silk and snowy hue, embroidered at neckline, cuffs, and hem with flowery design. She had caught the waist with a satin sash the color of her eyes. It seemed to Gord that no living woman could be this lovely, this unaffected. Her every line and curve he had memorized, and tonight, clad as she was, the memories came rushing back, unbidden but not unwelcomed-a glimpse of bare back and arm as she splashed cold stream water in the morning, a leg revealed in walking or riding… all wonderful memories indeed.

“My part is small, lady, and for it you owe nothing,” Gord told her sincerely, eyes locked on hers. “What true man could have done otherwise?”

“Don’t be a fonkin again, Gord. Many men helped to put me in that pig’s toils, others imprisoned me, while still other men sought to use me by trickery, flattery, or sheer purchase. You did risk all for me, Gord, and I owe you my very life.”

He took her delicate hand in his, saying, “If you insist, I shall accept credit… but only for a duty begun, not completed. We have come fifty leagues, but there are five times that number betwixt you and Knurl-and who can say how many dangers yet to overcome?”

“You are my saviour, nonetheless, Gord. I happily place my safety and welfare in your hands”-as she spoke, the girl arose from her chair, prompting Gord to do likewise-“just as I place my person in your arms now!”

She moved to him, and there was no resisting such an offer. Gord eagerly clasped his arms around her little waist as his lips sought hers. They were indeed as soft and wonderful as their looks had promised, and their kiss lasted and grew more passionate as the two allowed its sensations to fill their beings. Gord’s hands moved of their own volition, going here and there to explore and affirm the girl and the fact that he held her thus. Evaleigh made no protest, only kissing him more passionately than before and allowing her own small hands to discover what they could of Gord. Although neither directed it, both were soon disrobed and prone upon the yielding down of the bed’s expanse. Kisses gave way to nibbles, soft bites, and rapid breathing.

“Evaleigh-oh, Evaleigh! — I give you my soul!”

“You have mine already, Gord-my champion! Tell me that you love me….”