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no more。 So I ran。〃
〃Give the wine to him； Simon；〃 Miriamele said。 〃It's cruel。 He's just a frightened old man。〃
Simon made a face and handed Heanwig the bowl。 The old man sniffed it and a look of rapture crossed his age…spotted features。 He tilted the bowl and drank thirstily。
〃The Fire Dancers！〃 Miriamele hugged herself。 〃Mother of Mercy； Simon； we don't want to get caught by them。 They're all mad。 Tiamak was attacked by some in Kwanitupul； and I saw others light themselves on fire and burn to death。〃
Simon looked from Miriamele to the old man； who was licking his wrinkled lips with a tongue that looked like something which made its home in a seashell。 He felt an unlikely urge to reach out and cuff the old tosspot； although the man had done little enough； really。 Simon suddenly remembered how he had raised the sword； that moment of fury when he might have slain this poor wretch； and was horribly ashamed。
What sort of knight would cut down a feeble drunkard？
But what dreadful fate had sent the old man to frighten the horses and break twigs in the very moment when he was finally holding Miriamele in his arms？ They had been kissing！ She； the princess； the beautiful Miriamele； had been kissing Simon！
He turned his gaze from the old man to Miriamele once more。 She； too； had been watching Heanwig drain his bowl； but now her eyes flicked up to Simon's for a moment。 Even in the torchlight； he could see her blush。 Fate was cruel 。。。 but a little earlier； it had been kind as well。 Oh； sweet Fate； sweet Luck！
Simon abruptly laughed。 The greater part of his anger dissipated like chaff before the wind。 The loveliest girl in all of Aedondom； clever and quick…and she had kissed him。 Called him by his name！ He could still feel the shape of her face on his fingertips。 What right had he to plain？
〃So what do we do？〃 he asked。
Miriamele avoided his eye。 〃We will stay the night。 Then in the morning we will get as far away from the Fire Dancers as we can。〃
Simon darted a glance at Heanwig； who was looking hopefully toward the saddlebags。 〃And him？〃
〃We will let him stay here for the night； too。〃
〃And what if he drinks all the wine and takes it into his head to strangle us in our sleep？〃 Simon protested。 Even he found it rather silly to say such things about the bony； shivering old man； but he desperately wanted to be alone with Miriamele once more。
As if she understood this and was equally determined not to see it happen； Miriamele said： 〃He'll do nothing of the sort。 And we will take turns sleeping。 Will that make you feel better； Simon？ You can guard the wine。〃
The old man looked from one to the other； evidently trying to decide where the battle lines were drawn。 〃Old Heanwig won't be no bother。 You don't nead to stay up； young masters。 You be tired。 Old fellow like me doesn't need sleep。 I'll stay up and watch for them Fire Dancers。〃
Simon snorted。 〃I'm certain you would。 Let's toss him out； Miriamele。 If he isn't the one who followed us； there's no reason to keep him。〃
〃There's a perfectly good reason。 He's an old man and he's frightened。 You forget； Simon； I've seen the Fire Dancers and you haven't。 Don't be cruel just because you're in a bad mood。〃 She gave him a stem look； but Simon thought he saw a tiny flash of knowing amusement in it。
〃No； don't send me out to those Fire Dancers；〃 Heanwig begged。 〃They burned Wiclaf； they did。 I saw it。 And him not harming nobody。 They lit him on fire down Pulley Road； screaming 'Here's what's ing！ Here's what's ing！'〃 Heanwig trailed off； shuddering。 What had started out as a self…serving justification had bee real as the memory played out before his mind's eye。 〃Don't send me away； masters。 I'll never speak no word。〃 His abrupt sincerity was apparent。
Simon looked from Miriamele to the old man； then back to the princess。 He had been neatly outflanked。 〃Oh； very well。〃 he growled。 〃But I'm staying up on first watch； old man； and if you do anything the least bit suspicious； you'll be out that door and into the cold so fast your head will spin。〃
He gave Miriamele a last look pounded of annoyance and longing； then settled back against the shed door。
Simon awoke in the early morning to discover Miriamele and the old man both up and chatting amiably。 Simon thought that Heanwig looked even worse in daylight； his seamed features smudged with dirt； his clothes so tattered and soiled that even poverty could not excuse it。
〃You should e with us；〃 Miriamele was saying。 〃You'll be safer than by yourself。 At least join us until you're far away from the Fire Dancers。〃
The old man shook his head doubtfully。 〃Those mad folk be most everywhere； these days。〃
Simon sat up。 His mouth was dry and his head hurt； as though he were the drunkard of the pany。 〃What are you saying？ You can't bring him with us。〃
〃I certainly can；〃 said Miriamele。 〃You may acpany me； Simon； but you may not tell me where I can go or who I can bring along。〃
Simon stared at her for a moment； sensing an argument that he had no hope of winning； no matter what he did。 He was still weighing his next words when he was saved from the useless engagement by Heanwig。
〃Are you bound for Nabban？〃 the old man asked。 〃I never have seen those parts。〃
〃We're going to Falshire；〃 Miriamele said。 〃Then on to Hasu Vale。〃
Simon was just about to upbraid her for telling this plete stranger their travel plans…what had happened to the need for caution she had lectured him about？…when the old man made a gasping noise。 Simon turned； angry already at the thought that the old tosspot was now going to be sick right in front of them； but was startled by the look of horror on Heanwig's mottled face。
〃Going to Hasu Vale！？〃 His voice rose。 〃What； be ye mad？ That whole valley runs haunted。〃 He scrambled a cubit toward the door； grasping fruitlessly for a handhold in the moldering straw beneath him； as though the two travelers had threatened to drag him to the hated place by force。 〃Sooner I'd crawl down into quarry with those Fire Dancers。〃
〃What do you mean； haunted？〃 Miriamele demanded。 〃We've heard that before。 What does it mean？〃
The old man stared at her； eyes rolling to show the whites。 〃Haunted！ Bad 'uns； bogies from out the lich…yard。 Witches and suchlike！〃
Miriamele stared at him hard。 After a year like the last one； she was not inclined to dismiss such talk as superstition。 〃We're going there；〃 she said at last。 〃We have to。 But you don't have to travel any farther than you want to。〃
Heanwig got shakily to his feet。 〃Don't want to go west'ard。 Heanwig'll stay here'bouts。 There's folk in Stanshire as still have a morsel to spare； or a drop； even in bad times。〃 He shook his head。 〃Don't go there； young mistress。 You been kind。〃 He looked pointedly at Simon to make it clear who had not been。
The old sot； Simon thought grumpily。 Who gave him the wine； anyway？ Who didn't break his head when he could have？
〃Go south…you'll be happy there；〃 Heanwig continued； almost pleading。 〃Stay out the Vale。〃
〃We must go；〃 said Miriamele。 〃But we won't make you e。〃
Heanwig had been sidling toward the door。 Now he stopped with his hand already on the wood and ducked his head。 〃I thank you； young mistress。 Aedon's Light be on you。〃 He paused； at a loss for words。 〃Hope you e back again safe。〃
〃Thank you； too； Heanwig；〃 Miriamele replied solemnly。
Simon suppressed a groan of irritation； reminding himself that a knight did not make faces and noises like a scullion did…especially a knight who wished to stay on the good side of his lady。 And at least the old man apparently would not be traveling with them。 That was an acceptable reward for a little forbearance。
As they rode out of Stanshire into the countryside； the rain began to fall once more。 At first it was little more than a flurry of drops； but by the time mid…morning came； it was falling in great sheets。 The wind rose； carrying the rain toward them in cold； cascading slaps of water。
〃This is as bad as being on a ship in storm；〃 Miriamele shouted。
〃At least on a ship you have oars；〃 Simon called back。 〃We're going to need some soon。〃
Miriamele laughed； pulling her hood down low over her eyes。 Simon felt warmer just knowing he had amused her。 He had been feeling a little ashamed of the way he had treated the old man； almost as soon as Heanwig had gone shuffling away down the lane； heading back toward the center of Stanshire； Simon had felt his bad temper evaporate。 It was hard to say now what it was about the old man that had so perturbed him…he hadn't really done anything。
They headed back toward the River Road along a succession of wagon…rutted lanes that now were little more than sluices of mud。 The countryside began to look more wild。 The farmlands around Stanshire； although mostly given over to weeds； still bore the mark of past human care in the fences and stone walls and an occasional cottage； but as the town and its outlying settlements fell away behind them； the wilderness reasserted itself。
It was a peculiarly bleak place。 The nearly endless winter had stripped all of the trees but the evergreens； and even the pines and firs seemed to have suffered unkind handling。 Simon thought the strange； twisted shape of the trunks and branches resembled the writhing human bodies in the mural of The Day of Weighing…Out which stretched across the wall of the Hayholt's chapel。 He had spent many a boring hour in church staring in fascination at the scenes of torment； marveling at the invention of the anonymous artist。 But here in the real； cold； wet world； the gnarled shapes were mostly disheartening。 Leafless oaks and elms and ash trees loomed against the sky； skeletal hands that clenched and unclenched as the wind bent them。 With the sky bruised almost black by clouds and the rain flung slantwise across the muddied hillsides； it made a much drearier picture than even the decorations in the chapel。
Simon and Miriamele rode on through the storm； mostly unspeaking。 Simon was chagrined that the princess had not once mentioned； or even hinted at； their kiss of the night before。 It was not a day conducive to flirtatious conversation； he knew； but she seemed to be pretending it had never even happened。 Simon did not know what to do about this： several times he was on the verge of asking her； but he could not think of anything to say about it that would not sound stupid in the light of day。 That kiss had been a bit like his arrival in Jao e…Tinukai'i； a moment in which he had stepped out of time。 Perhaps； like a trip to a fairy…hill； what they had shared the night before had been something magical； something destined to fade as quickly from memory as an icicle melting in the sun。
No。 I won't let it fade。 I'll remember it always 。 。。 even if she doesn't。
He stole a glance at Miriamele。 Most of her face was hidden by the hood； but he could see her nose and part of her cheek and her sharp chin。 She looked almost Silha…like； he thought； graceful and beautiful； yet not quite knowable。 What was going on in her head？ How could she cling to him as she had； then say nothing about it afterward； until he wondered if he had dreamed the whole thing or was going mad？ Surely she had returned that kiss as eagerly as he had given it？ Little as he knew of women and kissing； he could not believe that the way she had responded meant nothing。
Why don't I just ask her？ I'll go mad if I don't find out。 But what if she laughs at me； or gets angry…or doesn't remember？
The idea that Miriamele might have no strong emotions corresponding to the feelings that churned within him was chilling。 His resolve to make her talk abruptly vanished。 He would think about it more。
But I want to kiss her again。
He sighed。 The sound was lost in the hissing tumult of the rain。
The River Road was muddy and almost entirely empty； as Simon had predicted； they passed fewer than a dozen other travelers all day。 Only one man bothered to do more than nod； a short； bandy…legged fellow whose knob…kneed horse pulled a tented w