Chapter 4

Share my bed with a man who is not my husband? I am not that type of girl which is why I do not feel the slightest guilt in making Richard sleep on the floor. Allowing him to spend the night in my room is enough generosity for me – I could easily have regulated him to the kitchen.

"Why is there not another room?" he grumbles, making a pallet for himself out of blankets and furs which I had unearthened.

"Because this is a dragon's cave, Dick, not an inn," I reply, tossing him a pillow. "Most of the men passing through here do not live to see the sunset much less spend the night. You can sleep in the kitchen, the library or the main hall if you prefer."

He grimaces. "Thank you for sharing," he says, clearly with some reluctance.

"You are welcome," I reply, feeling magnanimous. "Now grab some firewood from the kitchen – I need to change."

He is out like a shot.

I change quickly, not relishing the idea of being caught with my clothes off. I settle into my bed with a comfortable sigh. The only thing I believe I will miss when I leave this cave is the bed. Large enough to fit a family and stuffed with a farm yard of feathers, it is a luxury I doubt I will ever be able to afford in my lifetime. Better enjoy it while it lasts.

"Are you decent?" comes a muffled question through the thick canvas that serves as my door.

"You can come in," I call back.

Richard walks in, arms laden down with a number of fat logs. As he passes the fire to drop his burden in the woodbin, I notice the slight bulging of muscle through the sleeve of his shirt. I turn my eyes away quickly at the brief fluttering I feel in my stomach.

"Good, at least we will be warm tonight," I say to take my mind off my silly imaginings.

I surreptitiously study him under hooded eyes as he kicks off his boots and crawls into his makeshift bed. Silence reigns in the warmly lit room. Suddenly, having him there shoots a pang of homesickness through my heart. It has been so long since I last had someone to talk to and the coziness of the room seems to invite confidences.

"How have you been these past few years?" I venture.

Perhaps his travels have made him a little lonely as well because he answers me with no trace of sarcasm. "Well. It's been exciting…difficult…at times a little boring but these past four years have been wonderful overall."

"What have you done?" I try to picture Richard changing over the years. The images are vague at best.

"Travelled all around the country. There is so much see – more than anyone living in a pokey village like ours can imagine. Sir Quinn toured estates and competed in tourneys-"

"Did he win any?" I interrupt.

"No," he replies hesitantly. "He is an excellent knight though," he is quick to add, voice firm with loyalty.

With a little too much romance in his soul perhaps. "Maybe he simply lacks the ruthlessness to face the more determined of his opponents," I say charitably. "I imagine that he is a very chivalrous knight."

"He is," his voice takes on a reminiscent tone. "He was a fairly patient teacher as well."

"So you can actually use that sword of yours?" I tease. I frown as a thought occurs to me. "Where did you get that sword anyway? It is a knight's weapon isn't it?" I turn my head to the shadowed corner where it stands propped up against the wall. "I swear I saw a jewel or two on it."

"It was gift," he replies stiffly. I suppose he is insulted by my insinuations. "It was Sir Quinn's second sword and he gave it to me as a parting gift. An apology of sorts, he said, for not training me to knighthood." He changes the subject. "What of you? How have the years been to you?"

I think back on my past few years growing up. "The life of a village girl. What more can I say? I can cook now as you know," I slide a glance in his direction and catch a glimpse of a grin in the soft light. "I can sew, keep house, read, write – everything that is expected of me."

"Except being married."

That hits a sore spot. "And I am not the only one," I reply defensively. "I do not see you with a bride in tow. And don't tell me that it is because you're busy becoming a knight – you haven't achieved that either." As soon as the words come out of my mouth I am sorry for them. They were hardly charitable and even Richard does not deserve such meanness.

A glance at Richard shows that my words were not well received. I soften my voice and strive for a little more understanding. "What happened?"

Richard sighs. "I told you – he became a poet. It was a month ago. We were at court. Even I'm not sure exactly what happened but one day he just announced to me that he was giving up the life of a knight."

"Was there a woman involved?" According to my aunt, there always is.

"I don't know. Perhaps…hmmm… there was a red haired noblewoman that he had seemed rather taken with…" He shook his head. "All I know is that he waved me off with a handful of coins and directions for home."

"He didn't try to find you another knight?" I ask. That seems rather irresponsible of him. "Surely that was the least he could do."

"No, the least he could do was send me off with nothing. And I have seen it happen to other boys. My wages are decent enough."

I turn on my side to look to him. "I am surprised you aren't angry." The Richard I knew would have been fuming or have been petulant at least.

He snorts. "Of course I'm angry but what use would that be? Far better that I spend my energy finding a new occupation."

I blink. I finally believe that Richard has changed. My eyes run over his determined face and I realize that I am not looking any longer at the boy who had thrown mud at me after school.

"Does your family know?"

He sighs. "Not yet. I had thought to tell them when I return."

"You would save the price of the courier."

"And it is hardly happy news. Tell me of my family. Have they been well?"

"When I had seen them last, yes. I believe your brother, John, was courting Marie. I wonder how that has turned out?" The stab of homesickness digs deeper as I think about all that I might have been missing. True, it is merely the tide and ebb of a quiet village life but it is the life that I know and to think that it is flowing past me without my knowledge is sad. " Perhaps we can make a stop by the village before we head off."

"The quest," he sighs. "Have you ever heard of this kingdom with a golden bird?"

"You are the one who has been traveling – have you?"

"I never left our country so no, I have not. We are in for a long walk aren't we? Unless Chrilton would be so good as to give us a horse."

"I have my doubts," is my dry reply.

"Well, I hope he will give us a map or at least better directions tomorrow."

"One can hope."

This time he turns and I can sense him looking towards me. "How were you captured any way?"

"I was picking wild berries in the hills when I was unfortunate enough to be spotted by Chrilton. He needed a maid at the time and decided that I would do."

I hear a snort. "Well it was certainly not because you look like a princess."

My lips flatten in annoyance. "A princess would hardly have been able to deal with the mess that was here when I arrived. It's taken me six months but this cave finally resembles somewhere livable." I am actually quite proud of my work even if I would have preferred never having to have done it.

"What spell do you have cast on you?"

I am silent.

"I don't have to be your true love and kiss you do I?" he asks, sounding so unenthused about the idea as to be insulting.

"Not quite," I bite out.

"What is it?" I can almost hear him thinking. "Do you…turn into an animal? A swan like that princess…oh, what was her name…"

I refuse to answer.

"You're not saying anything. I'm on the right path aren't I?" He studies my expression in the firelight and somehow concludes, "I am."

I slant a glance sideways and see the smug look on his face. He is amused at my expense. "I'll bet that you become something not nearly as beautiful. That is why you won't tell me. What is it? A bear? a cow? A pig?" He chuckles. "If you become a horse then our travels will be much faster. Or perhaps not an ordinary animal – a monster?"

A cockroach is not a monster but it is far too close for comfort.

"Go to sleep," I snap. "I don't become a monster," I add, not wanting him to entertain that notion for longer than necessary. "But what I do become would make it very difficult for us to travel."

"A slug?" Far too close.

"Go to sleep." Resolutely, I turn away from him and close my eyes.

I hear Richard rustle into a more comfortable position. Long minutes pass and soon I hear a soft snoring coming from the floor pallet. Wonderful – I should have kicked him out to the kitchen.

But despite my annoyance and the noise, I find myself drifting off to sleep.

Author's Note: Nothing substantial, just some soft, nighttime confidences. It's snowing up here in Canada and so I wanted to write a fireside scene. Action and adventure will have to wait for next time.