"And for mine," she reminded me.
I felt a terrible sadness well within me. I suppressed it. "And for yours," I agreed.
We kissed. The pain continued to grow. I pulled away from her. I went to the corner of the room and began to wash myself. I noticed that my hands were shaking and that my breathing had become unusually deep. I had a wish, at that moment, to return to Hell, to summon up an army of all those poor damned souls and set them in rebellion against Lucifer, as Lucifer had set Himself against God. I felt that we were in the hands of foolish, insane beings, whose motives were more petty even than Man's. I wanted to be rid of all of them. It was unjust, I thought, that such creatures should have power over us. Even if they had created us, could they not, in turn, be destroyed?
But these ideas were pointless. I had neither the means, the knowledge nor the power to challenge them. I could only accept that my destiny was, in part at least, in their charge. I would have to agree to play out my role in Lucifer's terms, or play no role at all.
I drew on fresh linen. Sabrina sat with the curtain drawn back, watching me. I put on my breastplate, my greaves, my spurs. I buckled my sword and daggers about me. I picked up my helmet. I was ready, once again, for War.
"You say the horse will be ready?" I said.
"In the courtyard."
I stooped to pick up the pouch she had given me the previous day. I had regulated my breathing and my hands did not shake as much.
"I will stay here," she said.
I accepted this. I knew why she would not wish to accompany me to the courtyard.
"I intend to do my best in this matter," I said to her. "With you, I think that there is little chance of discovering any Grail, but I shall maintain my resolve if I know that you believe in me. Will you remember to trust me to return to you?"
"I will remember," she replied. "It is all that I will have to sustain me. Yes, Ulrich, I will trust you."
We were both desperate for certainty, and in that uncertain world we were attempting to make concrete that most amorphous and changeable of emotions, as people often will when they have no other sense of the future.
"Then we are pledged," I said. "And it is a more welcome bargain than any I have made in recent hours." I moved towards her, touched her naked shoulder with the tips of my fingers, kissed her lightly upon the lips.
"Farewell," I said.
"Farewell." She spoke softly. And then: "You must travel first towards Ammendorf, where you will seek out the Wildgrave."
"What can he tell me?"
She shook her head. "I know no more,"
I left the room.
Outside her door I found that my legs were weak and that I could hardly make my way down the spiralling nights of stone steps to the main hall. I had never experienced such emotion before. I had hardly any means of coping with it.
In the main hall, upon the table, a breakfast had been prepared for me. I paused only to take a deep draught of wine, then continued to stride for the doors with long, faltering steps.
The courtyard was silent, save for the sound of my horse's breathing and the dripping of the drizzle upon the leafy trees. I sniffed the air. Apart from the warm smell of the horse there were no scents at all in it.
My horse stood near the central wall. He looked freshly groomed. There were large panniers on either side of his saddle. My pistols shone in their holsters. Every piece of harness had been polished, every piece of metal and leather was bright. There was a new cloth under the saddle. The horse turned his head to regard me with wide, impatient eyes. His bit clattered in his jaws.
With an effort, I mounted. The wine gave me enough strength and enough resolve to touch my heels to the steed's flanks. He moved smartly forward, glad to be on his way.
The portcullis was up. There were no signs of Sabrina's half-dead servants, no sign of our Master. The castle looked exactly as it had when I had first arrived.
It might have been an elaborate illusion. With that thought in mind, I did not look back: partly from fear that I would see Sabrina herself at a window, partly because I thought I might see nothing at all.
I rode out under the archway towards the path which wound down through ornamental gardens. The rain washed the statues and the bright, lifeless Rowers; it obscured the outlines of the forest below. My horse began to gather speed. Soon we were cantering and I made no attempt to check him. Water poured from my helmet. As I rode I dragged my leather cloak from one of the panniers and wound it round me. The water washed from my face any trace of tears, ! rode down through the cold rain and into that deep, barren forest. It was only a little later that I looked back, briefly, to see the tall stones, the towers and the battlements, to confirm that they were, indeed, realities.
I did not look back again. The forest was dark and grey sow and some part of me welcomed its embrace. We rode steadily until nightfall.
My journey to the outskirts of the forest took the better part of two days, and it was not until the morning of the third day that I awoke to birdsong and faint sunshine, to the smells of damp earth and oak and pine. The sense of joyful relief I felt upon hearing the whistling of finches and thrushes reminded me of the strangeness I was leaving behind me, and I wondered again at the reality of it all.
I never once believed that I had dreamed my experience, but it remained a very slight possibility that I had been victim to a sophisticated hallucination. Naturally, part of me desired that this be so. I could not, however, afford to indulge that hope.
I breakfasted lightly of the food provided and drew the maps from my case. I had determined not to consult them until Lucifer's wood was at my back. Ammendorf was not even a familiar name to me and it took me some while to discover it marked.
I as yet had no bearings, but at least I was again in the lands of mortal creatures, and sooner or later I would discover a village, or a charcoal burner, or a woodsman… someone to tell me where I was. Once I knew, I could head for Ammendorf, which appeared to be a relatively small town about fifty miles from Nџrnberg.
My horse was eating the sweet-smelling grass with some relish. The grass we had left behind was nourishing enough, but presumably it had had no taste. He looked like a prisoner who had dined too long on bread and water and is suddenly offered a rich repast. I let him eat his fill, then saddled him and, mounted once again, continued on my way until I came, very soon, upon a reasonably wide track through the forest. This I began to follow.
By mid-morning I was riding across gentle hills towards a rich valley. Mist lay upon the tops of the hills and through it broke strong rays of sunshine which struck the deep greens of fields and hedgerows and illuminated them. There was a faint smell of wood smoke on the spring air and I was warmed, as the rain lifted, by a southwesterly wind.
I made out old cottages and farmsteads, all apparently untouched by the War. I saw cattle and sheep grazing. I breathed hi rich scents of the farmyard, of flowers and wet grass, and my skin felt cleaner than it had felt in months. So peaceful was the scene that I wondered if it might be another illusion, that it was designed to snare me somehow, but thankfully my rational, pragmatic mind refused such speculation. I had embarked upon an insane Quest, prompted by a being who could, Himself, be insane; I had need to maintain my sanity in small matters, at least.
As I approached the nearest cottage I smelled baking and my mouth began to water, for I had eaten no hot food since before my encounter with Lucifer. I stopped outside the cottage door and cried a "halloo." At first I thought that, in the manner of wary peasants, no one would answer me. I took a step or two towards the time-darkened oak of the door just as it opened. A small, plump woman of about forty-five stood there. Seeing my warlike finery, she automatically bobbed her head and said, in a thick accent which I did not recognise: "Good morrow, Your Honour."