There was a split second before the youth registered Mallory's complicity, and then he lightened and hurried away amongst the tents.
*
Mallory and Gardener sat in uncomfortable silence for several hours. Their only hope of getting back to the cathedral was to wait until daybreak, but it was a long time in coming. For some reason no one could explain, Sophie was unavailable, but Mallory managed to get food and some basic medication for Hipgrave.
Eventually, he couldn't contain his desire to see Sophie any longer and went off in search of her. Rick, the dreadlocked youth Mallory had met on his first visit to the camp, was loitering outside the leader's tent under the fluttering two-dragon flag. He sucked anxiously on a joint as he wandered back and forth, jumping in shock when he saw Mallory.
'What do you want?' he said, with drug-fired paranoia.
'Peace on earth, good will to men. Where's Sophie?'
Rick jerked his head towards the tent door. 'She hasn't got time for you. Not tonight.'
'What's up? Big spell? Lots of nude dancing? I'm up for it.'
Rick bristled. Before he could respond, the tent flaps were thrown open and Sophie stepped out. She looked pale and distracted, and Mallory thought she might have been crying. 'I thought I heard your voice.'
'What's wrong?' The sarcasm ebbed from his voice as he responded to her mood.
She took a gulping breath, her eyes widening. He was shocked to see the confidence and control falling from her until she resembled, briefly, a young girl lost in a frightening place. He stepped forwards to comfort her, but she backed off, aware of Rick's eyes on her. He dropped his arms. It wasn't the time, or the place; and prejudice was everywhere. She composed herself quickly, weighed the moment and turned her back on Rick, holding open the tent flap for Mallory to enter. Rick began to protest, but she flashed him a look so ferocious that the words died in his throat. He took a heavy hit on his joint and stomped away.
Inside, Sophie sagged, free from the need to present a front. Though concerned at the extent of her suffering, Mallory was secretly pleased that she made no attempt to hide her emotions from him. He hesitated, then reached out again. She let him place his hands on her shoulders, but didn't fold into him as he had hoped. 'What's happened?' he asked.
She took another breath that blatantly suppressed a sob. 'Melanie's dead.' Her voice was like the wind under the door.
'I'm sorry.' He cursed his awkwardness and inability to express honest emotion, but he couldn't think of anything else to say to connect with her.
She didn't seem to mind. 'She was a good person, Mallory.' She stared into the too-bright light of several candles blazing in one corner of the foyer. 'Goddess, she was the only thing holding us all together.' She pulled away from him, her knuckles involuntarily going to her mouth.
He replaced a supportive hand on her shoulder, and it lost its stiffness at his touch. 'When did it happen?'
'An hour ago. I haven't told anyone yet… except Rick… haven't dared tell them.' She looked up at him with moist eyes. 'She was so strong, Mallory. She had such a clear view of where we were going… what was expected of us… Everyone was relying on her.'
'Don't think about that now,' he said. 'This is the time for grieving for her, for Melanie. Everything else comes later.'
'We don't have that option. There's too much at stake. She wasn't just a friend, she was the leader of everybody here.' She caught another breath. 'They're all here because of her.' There was a long pause, and then she said, 'And now they're going to ask me to take over. But I'm not up to it, Mallory. I'm not up to it at all.'
'Then don't do it. Leave.'
She was plainly puzzled by this. 'I can't walk away. I've got responsibilities now.'
'You're telling me they can't get on without you?' He briefly entertained the fantasy that at daybreak he and Sophie could find a horse and ride away from the increasingly dangerous mess that was growing around them.
'I'm sure they could get on without me, but that's not the point. When you're part of a tribe there are structures in place to facilitate the survival of the community.'
'And you're the wise-woman-in-waiting.'
'My abilities with the Craft are important for everyone here. Melanie invested a lot of time and effort teaching me, and I accepted that role and the responsibilities that went along with it. It would be immoral to turn my back on people who are relying on me.'
She noticed the anxiety in his features and caught herself. 'Listen to me, going on about myself. Selfish bitch. Why are you here? Is there something wrong?'
Her concern triggered pent-up doubts and fears that surfaced unbidden; for the first time in a long while he felt there was someone with whom he could talk honestly. 'We're in deep shit in the cathedral,' he said, suddenly weary. 'Those things have got us under siege… the food's getting low, and I can't see them finding a way out. There's something else going on, too, in the background. I can't figure out what it is, but I don't reckon it can be any good.' His shoulders sagged at the release. 'I think it's going to get really bad.'
She forced a smile. 'What a pair, eh? If this was before the Fall…' She caught herself; there was no point talking about could-have-beens. Yet in her comment Mallory sensed a connection: they were a pair, two people burdened by problems who would rather be a hundred miles away. Together.
The notion was underlined dramatically when she caught the neck of his cloak and pulled his head down to plant a firm kiss on his mouth. It was filled with passion, desperate yet restrained at the same time. It went on for a full minute, and Mallory responded in kind. After so long without female contact, he felt himself hardening instantly, but before it could develop into anything else, she broke the kiss and walked away a few steps.
'That was…' She had taken him so much by surprise he couldn't find the words.
'Life's too short for playing stupid games, Mallory,' she said, lighting another candle to replace one that had guttered out in a pool of wax. 'We both know there's something between us, despite our very obvious differences. There's no time for flirting.'
'So does that mean we're stepping out? His irony was a reaction to the feeling that he had lost control of the situation; and he always thought he was completely in charge.
'It was a recognition of what we feel, that's all. What happens from here is anybody's guess. Quite honestiy, you might get on my tits — a likely prospect given your very unfortunate nature — and I'd be forced to curse you for all time.'
Mallory really didn't know if she was joking.
'Now, thanks very much for the visit, but I've got a funeral to prepare.' She peeked through the flap into the rear of the tent and when she looked back at him tears filled her eyes again. 'Besides,' she continued throatily, 'I would think you'd be pretty much engrossed in sorting out your own crisis.'
'Yeah. Any idea what's happening there?'
'Well, you've certainly pissed off someone in high places. At least it keeps you all in one place where you can't do any more damage.' She couldn't mask her bitterness.
'Don't tar me with the same brush.'
'You wear the uniform. You carry the weapons, eat the food, sleep under the same roof. Don't be naive, Mallory. You might pretend to yourself that you're apart somehow-'
'They're not all bad,' he protested. 'Mostly, they're harmless. Well meaning.'
'Then you ought to do something about the ones that aren't, oughtn't you? I thought you knights were supposed to be the police force of the New Christian Army. Or is it one rule for you, and one for the rest of us?'
Though hardly surprised by the strength of her response after Melanie's death, Mallory couldn't find any way to answer her. Instead, he peered out into the night. The red light of dawn tinted the horizon.
'We might stand a chance of getting back in daylight,' he mused. 'If we're lucky.'
A startled cry followed by angry yells broke out not far away. Instinctively, Mallory knew what it was. He was already out of the tent and running before Sophie could enquire what was happening.
His worst fears were realised as he made it back to the camp boundary. One of the travellers lay face down, unmoving though probably not dead, Mallory guessed. Worse, Gardener had Scab pinned against him, a dagger to his throat. Gardener was overcome with righteous anger.
