Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 169
the stones in the circle, stealing glances at the knight
as he worked unloading the packs and preparing camp
for the night. She walked to the center of the circle
and looked cautiously over the crumbling rim into
the darkness below. A damp breeze exhaled softly
from the cavern. She breathed it in deeply, closing
her eyes, taking the coolness and slight tang of sulfur
into her lungs and holding it there, rolling like smoke
inside her.
“Careful!”
She huffed her breath out in surprise, opening her eyes
to see the knight directly by her side. He caught her
off guard with his sudden closeness and she started to
flush. He put his hand lightly on her waist and led her
away from the opening, and his touch coupled with
his proximity made a heat rise in her chest and gooseflesh on her skin. Slightly breathless and annoyed
at herself, Rhiannon felt like she did as an awkward
smitten adolescent in Gwydion’s presence those many
years ago. Dressed in one of her very best gowns,
which she had agonized hours over and then sent her
chambermaid into a tizzy over the way she would
wear her hair, Rhiannon would sit stiffly next to her
father and watch intently for the blue and gold shield
and trappings. Each time she would feel the thunder
of his horse’s hooves through the lists and the lightning crack of the breaking lance thrumming through
her very bones. At the tournament’s completion, her
father would allow her to award him his prize, a fine
new sword or pouch of coins from the castle’s seemingly bottomless treasury, which Sir Gwydion would
accept with a bow and a courtly kiss on her hand, and
she would float on air and romantic dreams for days.
Rhiannon broke away from him as they neared the
camp he had made, and she sat on a blanket he had
laid on the grass for her. He handed her hunks of
bread and cheese and a flask of water from a pack,
and then took some himself. The knight had taken off
his breastplate and several pieces of his plate mail for
comfort and ease of movement, but kept the lighter
chain mail on with his blue surcoat over it. He looked
at her for a long moment as she kept her head down
and she tried not to choke on the dry bread, still shaken by her feelings.
PAGE 168
Sir Gwydion began to talk about his companions at
arms, some issues with his father’s vassals, and the
construction of a wall around the village on his father’s lands. He talked about mundane matters until
she lifted her head up and could lo