"So then! For murderous Trewan and cruel Casmir: our thanks!" He bent his face to Suldrun's; they kissed again and again; then, sinking to the couch, lay locked in each other's arms, and presently lost themselves in ardor.
Weeks passed, swift and strange: a period of bliss, made the more vivid by its background of high adventure. The pain in Aillas'
shoulder subsided, and one day in the early afternoon, he scaled the cliff to the east of the garden and traversed the rocky slope on the seaward side of the Urquial, slowly and gingerly, since his boots were at the bottom of the sea and he went unshod. Beyond the Urquial he pushed through an undergrowth of scrub oak, elderberry and rowan, and so gained the road.
At this time of day, few folk were abroad. Aillas encountered a drover with a flock of sheep and a small boy leading a goat, and neither gave him more than a cursory glance.
A mile along the road he turned into a lane which wound away between hedgerows, and presently arrived at the steading where Ehirme lived with her husband and children.
Aillas halted in the shadow of the hedge. To his left, at the far side of a meadow, Chastain, the husband and his two oldest sons, cut hay. The cottage lay at the back of a kitchen garden, where leeks, carrots, turnips and cabbages grew in neat rows. Smoke rose from the chimney.
Aillas pondered the situation. If he went to the door and someone other than Ehirme showed herself, awkward questions might be asked, for which he had no answers.
The difficulty resolved itself. From the door came a stocky roundfaced woman carrying a bucket. She set out toward the pig-sty.
Aillas called out: "Ehirme! Dame Ehirme!"
The woman, pausing, examined Aillas with doubt and curiosity, then slowly approached. "What do you want?"
"You are Ehirme?"
"Yes."
"Would you do a service, in secret, for Princess Suldrun?"
Ehirme put down the bucket. "Please explain, and I'll tell you whether such service lies within my power."
"And in any event you'll keep the secret?"
"That I will do. Who are you?"
"I am Aillas, a gentleman of Troicinet. I fell from a ship and Suldrun saved me from drowning. We are resolved to escape the garden and make our way to Troicinet. We need a disguise of old clothes, hats and shoes, and Suldrun has no friend but you. We cannot pay at this time, but if you help us, you will be well rewarded when I return to Troicinet."
Ehirme reflected, the creases in her weather-beaten face twitching to the flux of her thoughts. She said: "I will help you as best I can. I have long suffered for the cruelty done to poor little Suldrun, who never harmed so much as an insect. Do you need only clothes?"
"Nothing more, and our most grateful thanks for these."
"The woman who brings Suldrun food—I know her well; she is Bagnold, an ill-natured creature rancid with gloom. So soon as she notices untouched food she will scuttle to King Casmir and the search will be on."
Aillas gave a fatalistic shrug. "We have no choice, and we will hide well by daylight."
"Do you carry sharp weapons? Wicked things move by night. Often I see them hopping about the meadow, and flying across the clouds."
"I will find a good cudgel; that must suffice."
Ehirme gave a noncommittal grunt. "I will go to market every day.
On my way back I will open the postern, empty the basket, and Bagnold will be deceived. I can do this safely for a week, and by then the trail will be cold."
"That will mean great risk for you. If Casmir discovered your doing he would show no mercy!"
"The postern is hidden behind the bush. Who will notice me? I will take care not to be seen."
Aillas made a few more half-hearted protests, to which Ehirme paid no heed. She looked out over the meadow and across the woodland beyond. "In the forest past the village Glymwode live my old father and mother. He is a woodcutter, and their hut is solitary.
When we have butter and cheese to spare, I send it to them by my son Collen and the donkey. Tomorrow morning I will bring you smocks, hats, and shoes, on my way to market. Tomorrow night, an hour after sunset, I will meet you here, at this spot, and you will sleep in the hay. At sunrise Collen will be ready, and you will travel to Glymwode. No one will know of your escape, and you may travel by day; who will connect the Princess Suldrun with three peasants and a donkey? My father and mother will keep you safe until danger is past, and then you shall travel to Troicinet, perhaps by way of Dahaut, a longer road but safer."
Aillas said humbly: "I do not know how to thank you. At least, not until I reach Troicinet, and there I will be able to make my gratitude real."
"No need for gratitude! If I can steal poor Suldrun away from the tyrant Casmir, I will have reward enough. Tomorrow night then, an hour after sunset, I will meet you here!"
Aillas returned to the garden and told Suldrun of Ehirme's arrangements. "So we do not need to skulk like thieves through the night after all."
Tears started from Suldrun's eyes. "My dear faithful Ehirme!
I never fully appreciated her kindness!"
"From Troicinet we will reward her loyalty."
"And we still need gold. I must visit my chambers in Haidion."
"The thought frightens me."
"It is no great matter. In a twinkling I can slip into the palace and out again."
Dusk came to darken the garden. "Now," said Suldrun, "I will go to Haidion."
Aillas rose to his feet. "I must go with you, if only to the palace."
"As you like."
Aillas climbed over the wall, unbarred the postern, and Suldrun passed through. For a moment they stood close to the wall. A halfdozen dim lights showed at various levels of the Pein-hador. The Urquial was vacant in the dusk.
Suldrun looked down along the arcade. "Come."
Through the arches lights twinkled up from Lyonesse Town. The night was warm; the arcades smelled of stone and occasionally a whiff of ammonia, where someone had eased his bladder. At the orangery the fragrance of flower and fruit overcame all else.
Above loomed Haidion, with the glow of candles and lamps outlining its windows.
The door into the East Tower showed as a half-oval of deep shadow.
Suldrun whispered: "Best that you wait here."
"But what if someone comes?"
"Go back to the orangery and wait there." Suldrun pressed the latch and pushed at the great iron and timber door. With a groan it swung open. Suldrun peered through the crack into the Octagon.
She looked back to Aillas. "I'm going in—" From the top of the arcade came the sound of voices and the clatter of footsteps.
Suldrun pulled Aillas into the palace. "Come with me then."
The two crossed the Octagon, which was illuminated by a single rack of heavy candles. To the left an arch opened on the the Long Gallery; stairs ahead rose to the upper levels.
The Long Gallery was vacant for its whole length. From the Respondency came the sound of voices lilting and laughing in gay conversation. Suldrun took Aillas' arm. "Come."
They ran up the stairs and in short order stood outside Suldrun's chambers. A massive lock joined a pair of hasps riveted into stone and wood.
Aillas examined the lock and the door, and gave a few halfhearted twists to the lock. "We can't get in. The door is too strong."
Suldrun took him along the hall to another door, this without a lock. "A bed-chamber, for noble maidens who might be visiting me."
She opened the door, listened. No sound. The room smelled of sachet and unguents, with an unpleasant overtone of soiled garments.
Suldrun whispered: "Someone sleeps here, but she is away at her revels."
They crossed the room to the window. Suldrun eased open the casement. "You must wait here. I've come this way many times when I wanted to avoid Dame Boudetta."
Aillas looked dubiously toward the door. "I hope no one comes in."
"If so, you must hide in the clothes-press, or under the bed. I won't be long." She slid out the window, edged along the wide stone coping to her old chamber. She pushed at the casement, forced it open, then jumped down to the floor. The room smelled of dust and long days of emptiness, in sunlight and rain. A trace of perfume still hung in the air, a melancholy recollection of years gone by, and tears came to Suldrun's eyes.