“Is that so?” she said haughtily.
“It is.” He stopped at the broken edge of earth that capped a steep ravine down to the churning water. No getting down this way lest he wished to be drowned. Piers turned to his right and began to walk south once more, Alys following him, obviously quite offended.
“You underestimate me, husband. You think I can’t do anything save for lie about and be waited on.”
“Stop calling me husband. And I do believe you can do more than lie about and be waited on.”
“You do?” He heard the shock in her voice.
“Yes. Well, not useful things, such as outfitting yourself properly for a journey, or listening to reason, but you’re actually quite good at walking.”
A clod of wet dirt whisked past his left ear to sail harmlessly into the ravine below.
“You certainly have terrible aim, so no future at all in archery.” Piers felt his spirits lifting merely through the act of speaking aloud. It was rather enjoyable to spar with Alys Foxe. He spied a path down the ravine wall. “Here we are.” And he dropped down over the side with what he himself even thought of as a rather spry hop, leaving Alys to get down through her own devices.
“Ooph!Oh, hold on, Layla! Why are we going to the river again?”
“I need water,” was all Piers was willing to disclose ashis feet touched the wet and pebbled strip of ground at the river’s edge. His spirits lifted even further when he spotted the rocky overhang ahead of them, perhaps a third of the way back up the ravine. It would be a perfect shelter for the night—no one looking down from the road would be able to see them. The clouds blanketing the whole of the dark gray sky looked heavy—‘twas likely to rain, or perhaps even snow should it grow colder. They would at least stay dry, if not completely warm.
“We’ll camp up there,” he called to Alys over his shoulder, and pointed toward the overhang as he walked past.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back.”
“Oh, I think not,” he heard her mutter. He glanced behind him and saw her hurrying along the river bank at his heels.
He stopped. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not. You can’t.”
“Yes, I can. You’re not leaving me here alone. I’m not a complete idiot, Piers.”
“What are you talking about? I said I’d be back.”
“The oldest trick in the history of trickery!” she cried. “Don’t think I haven’t realized how early in the day it is to be making camp. You think to abandon me here while you go on your merry way with enough daylight to get as much distance between us as possible.Voila!No more Alys.”
“That isn’t my plan at all,” Piers said, and he meant it. But actually, her idea was a rather good one, and Piers wondered why he hadn’t come up with it himself. What better way to be rid of her than to just walk away into the woods on other pretenses and never return? She’d not realize she’d been abandoned for a good hour, and Piersknew he could run a fair distance in that amount of time, even with his whole hand now aching and itching.
“You can’t follow me,” he continued. “It’s a … private matter.”
Her eyes narrowed for a moment and then she flushed as she caught his meaning. Or the meaning he meant for her to catch. Let her think he meant to go find a nice comfortable log over which to move his bowels.
But then her face went suspicious again. “I don’t believe you.”
“I give you my word, I shall return.”
“Not good enough,” she said. He noted her eyes roving over his body and then she smiled. “Leave your bag as ransom.”
“What?”
“Your pack. Leave it with me so that I will be certain of your return.”
He rolled his eyes but then began to shrug out of his shoulder straps. He swung the bag in front of him and thrust his hand under the flap to find his only other clothing, the rough linen shirt he’d been wearing when Bevan had attacked him. Although the tears had been inexpertly mended by his savior, the old monk, the raggedy thing was stained a horrible brown from Piers’s own blood, even after being boiled at the abbey.
“Oh, no,” she said and then before he could stop her, she had snatched the bag from his grasp, his shirt stretched between his fist and the pack. “If whatever you’re searching for is that important, you’ll return for it.”
