Free The Moonspinners by Mary Stewart Page A

I must have been half-seas-under last night.’
    â€˜That’s the sweetest thing a man’s ever said to me after a long night together,’ I said. I sat up, and began to extricate myself from the bedding, brushing it off me. ‘If I could have got out without waking you, I’d have done it, but you were so touchingly curled up—’
    He grinned, and I realized it was the first time I had really seen him smile. Even with the two days’ beard and the strained pallor of his face, the effect was to make him look very young. ‘Bless you,’ he said, as if he meant it. ‘I got a good sleep and I feel wonderful. I even feel as if I might be able to make a move today. Heaven knows, I’d better. But you – did you get any sleep at all?’
    â€˜Some,’ I said, truthfully. ‘Enough, anyway. I feel wide awake.’
    â€˜What’s the time?’
    â€˜Just after five.’
    I saw the creases of worry settle back between his brows. He shifted the arm as if it had suddenly begun to hurt. ‘Lambis isn’t back?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜I hope to heaven nothing’s happened to him. If I’ve got him into this mess as well—’
    â€˜Look,’ I said, ‘don’t for pity’s sake take Lambis on to your shoulders, too. He wouldn’t thank you, and it’s my guess he can look after himself.’ I got up, still brushing bits off. ‘Now, I’ve been thinking, while you lay snoring. I think we should get you out of this hut. And the sooner the better.’
    He rubbed a hand over his face, as if chasing the last mists of sleep. His eyes still looked blurred with the clogging weariness and worry of the night. ‘Yes?’
    â€˜If anyone does come looking for you again, and gets up here – and mind you, if they’ve any sense they’ll go hunting where the water is – they’re bound to look in the hut first thing. Lambis was right to bring you here in the first place, for shelter. But now that you’re a bit better, I think you should find a place in the open, in the warmth and air, a shady place, where we can see around us. You’re much better to be hidden out on the mountainside, than in the only obvious shelter on the hill.’
    â€˜That’s true. And I can’t say I’ll be sorry to get out of this . . . For a start, could you help me outside now?’
    â€˜Sure.’
    He was heavier than he looked, and also a good deal less able to help himself than he had hoped. It took quite a time before he was at last upright, half-propped against the wall of the hut, half-leaning on me. I saw now that he was not tall, but compactly and toughly built, with broad shoulders and a strong looking neck.
    â€˜Okay.’ He was panting as if he had run a race, and there was sweat on his face. ‘Keep near the wall. I can make it.’
    Slowly, we made it. As we reached the doorway, the sun came up, brilliance streaming from the left between the tall asphodels. Long shadows from the flowers ran along the turf. The corner where the hut stood was still in shadow, and the air was chilly.
    I left Mark sitting on the trunk of a fallen olive-tree, and went across to the spring.
    The pool, too, was still in shadow, and the water was icy. When I had washed, I went back to the hut for the metal pot that I had noticed there. This was a sort of kettle, or small cauldron, which must have been used by the shepherds. Though the outside of the pot was smoked black, the inside was clean enough, with no speck of rust. I scoured it out as best I could, with coarse sand from the stream, then filled it, and went back to Mark.
    He was sitting on the ground now, beside the fallen tree trunk, slumped back against it, looking exhausted, and so ill, in the cold daylight, that I had to control an exclamation of panic. If only Lambis would come; Lambis, blankets, hot soup . . .
    I scooped a mug-full of