It was in that moment that he realized he had no idea where to take her. Because he didn’t know, he simply said, “Be quiet.”
Fearless, without hesitation, headed southwest. He was going to Land’s End. So be it. It wasn’t long before Bishop pulled him in at the cliff edge. The calm sea stretched out in front of them, smooth and black beneath the sickle moon as far as the eye could see. The jagged black rocks stood like armless giants on the narrow beach, reaching far into the water itself. He could hear the slap of the sea against the rocks, feel the spume from the waves as they crested, only to fan out onto the night-black sand.
“This is the most beautiful spot on the earth,” Merryn said. “Look yon, you can see the nests of a thousand rooks tucked into the crevices of the cliff.”
“You have never been anywhere else. Of course it is beautiful to you.”
She twisted about and looked straight at him. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”
“It is too dry, too barren a landscape,” he said.
“That will change when this vaunted rain of yours begins to fall, won’t it?” she said, with credible sarcasm. “Do you intend that we stay here? Will you tie me down to the ground and let the crows peck my flesh?”
“When it rains, I doubt any bird will want to come out of a dry nest to attack you, not even the rooks.” He dismounted, then clasped her beneath her arms and lifted her down. “Don’t run or I will be angry.” He untied the big bundle of supplies from behind Fearless’s saddle and tossed it on the ground. “There is a tent. Set it up.”
She kicked a pebble and did nothing.
“Of course I doubt that you are capable of doing anything useful at all. You’re but a girl, a lord’s daughter who’s never done anything in her life save count her ribbons. Mayhap when the time comes, you will have the ability to birth and suckle a child. One can but hope.”
She kicked the bundle, then went down on her knees and began unwrapping the supplies. Bread, cheese, and three goatskins filled with ale. It looked like Dumas had cleared off the trestle table at Penwyth. She pulled out the tent. It seemed to be well made, but she didn’t know how to set it up. She examined the narrow poles, the flaps, and sighed. She laid her palms on her thighs and looked up at him. He was brushing Fearless’s back.
When he saw her annoyance clearly in the dim night light, he laughed. “Brush my horse.”
She did it well, speaking to Fearless, kissing his nose, telling him how her beautiful mare would make him dance to her music, making the brute whinny in return and butt his head against her shoulder.
When the tent was set on flat ground, Bishop rose and walked to the cliff edge where she stood, her back to him, her skirt blowing about her legs in the night sea breeze. He thought she was saying something.
She was probably chanting a curse.
He said, “We have no need of a fire. It is late. This has been a day like none other and I am weary. Come here.”
Slowly, she turned to face him. He would have sworn that there was a circle of light around her head. He felt his heart lurch in his chest. He shook his head, furious with himself. He’d come to this ridiculous place that would eventually be his and then it would not be ridiculous, and now he was thinking he saw a witch behind every rock.
“Come here.”
“I wish to enjoy the lovely night.”
“I don’t care what you wish.” He raised a rope in his hand.
“What will you do? Beat me with that rope?”
He said for the third time, “Come here.”
Merryn realized in that moment that things had changed irrevocably since she’d awakened this morning. He was here and she knew to her soul that he wasn’t going to leave. Would he die? Would the curse fell him? “I cannot tell you anything more about the curse.”
“Come here.”
Slowly, she walked to him.
“Hold out your hand.”
She did. He tied the rope around her wrist. “Now, we’re going to sleep.”
She looked at him helplessly, swallowed, and said, “Please, I must have a moment before we go into the tent.”
“A moment to do what? Chant more curses down on my head?”
She shook her head. “Please, just a moment. I must relieve myself.”