Страница 48 из 85
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 u
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 i
Locating a good i
“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….”
Chapter 20
The short rest in Midmeadow turned into a week’s hiatus. Both of the lovers were loath to depart the town, for it meant the end of their idyll. They talked little of the journey ahead, nothing of the problem of facing Count Blemu with a thief’s plea for his daughter’s hand. Somehow it would work out. There was time for worrying about that later, but now was for them to enjoy.
When Gord found that nearly all of the nobles and luckies he had taken from the cached treasure of the incautious bandits were depleted, he knew their time in the town was up, and that he and Evaleigh must press on. He couldn’t ply his profession here without risk to the girl, and the reserve of gold was needed for possible emergencies along the way. Gord didn’t know what to expect when he informed Evaleigh of their need to resume their journey, but he found himself surprised somewhat when she readily agreed. He must have showed some hurt at her ready consent, for she gave him love and told him tenderly that it was longing for her home and family, not a wish to destroy their new-found life together, which made her anxious to go on. That was the end of the discussion, and the next day they were on their way.
Gord found a caravan of merchants and associated folk heading south for Womtham, a town in distant Nyrond. Such a train would travel slowly, but its mercenary guards would help assure safe arrival. He and Evaleigh posed as newly married gentlefolk traveling to see relatives. A se
The composition of the caravan changed from time to time at various stops along the way. As the train reached deeper into Nyrond, it shrank a bit, but its progress continued apace. The travelers had angled a bit eastward at Theekham and were now going directly toward the rising sun. When he inquired as to the reason for this, Gord was informed by one of the merchants that they were aimed now at the Flinty Hills, where the headwaters of the Duntide River were shallow and easy to cross. Thereafter, the caravan would be but two days’ travel from Womtham.
It proved to be exactly as the trader had said-although he had neglected to predict that in the final leg of their journey, they would have encounters with some savage creatures, and a skirmish with a band of humanoids bent on rapine. The latter incident would have been a serious affair had not the arch-mage (as Gord learned afterward was his status) used his arcane arts to cause a series of fiery blasts to erupt in the midst of the gnoll horde. This resulted in the incineration of their chief and his principal assistants, as well as roasting sundry others of the vicious humanoids, and the survivors turned and fled in rout. Of the contacts with monsters, one had been nothing more than a hungry wyvern, brought down from the sky by a shower of quarrels and arrows, while the other was with a small band of hill giants who never came close to the caravan after seeing its size and soldiery.