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"There are horses," Simon replied, removing the hand with which he had stemmed Thomas's speech. Now he realized what it was that the two young men had been so eager to say. "Be quiet," he added. "Sound travels in the quiet of night." |
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His voice did not travel far, but Rhiannon heard. She came stepping softly through and around the brush by a path she had marked out earlier, and behind her, one at a time, as if they were ensorceled, the horses followed, not even switching their tails. She touched Simon when she came near. It was only meant as a greeting, but both their breaths caught. It was as if a hot spark of lightning jumped between them carrying bold spices and bright colors that assaulted every sense. |
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Bassett had looked, and then looked away, as the horses filed along behind Rhiannon. She had one hand still on Ymlladd s forehead and had placed her other hand on Sir Gilbert's own stallion's neck. Now she ran her hands down to the horses' noses and pressed lightly. Simon rose into the saddle of his mount and Bassett lifted de Burgh and then, while a man held him, got up behind. Then Rhiannon drew forward one of the men-at-arms' horses. Simon signaled to William de Millers, and one of the Welshmen helped him into the saddle. When they were all mounted, the Welsh-men started back at a steady lope. |
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The silence was as deep now as when they had arrived. It was like a thick, wet blanket and had taken so firm a hold on the rescued men that even de Burgh's sobbing was stilled. Simon began to pick his way out of the thin patch of trees. His eyes were on the ground, choosing a path where the Men leaves were thick and would muffle the sound of the hooves. Nonetheless, he could see Rhiannon quite clearly, her green eyes alight, her lips full and hard as if he had been kissing them. She knows, he thought, and his own excitement multiplied until he feared he would have a physical reaction. |
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