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Page 226
strength and he leapt the last ledge and ran toward her.
Rhiannon ran also. They met with such eagerness and so little caution that a most unromantic ooff was wrenched from both as they collided. They clung together, off balance, laughing.
"Are you whole, Simon?" Rhiannon asked when she could speak. "Are you safe and whole?"
"Yes, of course. How silly you are. You see me in excellent health."
"Then why are you breathing so hard?"
"If I had a speck of common sense, I would say that your beauty had rendered me breathless, but I am incurably truthful. I must confess it is because mail was not designed to be worn while climbing hills."
"Truthful!" Rhiannon exclaimed, laughing heartily. "You are a monster of deceit. You only tell the truth when you will profit by it."
"That is a gross injustice," Simon complained, dropping his cloak to the ground and fumbling at the lacing of his hood.
"Very well," Rhiannon conceded, pushing away his hands and loosening the ties for him. "Perhaps you also tell the truth when you know a lie would be easily found out." Before he could protest again, she asked. "Shall I take the hauberk off altogether?'
Simon hesitated, sensing some kind of game, but then agreed. He had to bend his knees to make himself short enough for Rhiannon to pull the mail shirt over his head. When he stood up again, the cool breeze of mid-September was like a shower of cold water. He breathed deeply with refreshment, watching Rhiannon fold the heavy steel rings of his mail into a long bundle that could be carried over his shoulder. Now the slight nip in the air became chilly rather than refreshing, and his sweat-wet woolen undertunic lay clammily against his body. Simon dropped to a squat beside Rhiannon where the wind could not be so free with him.

 
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