"They dare much, fair knight. Know ye naught of the customs of the
land?"
He was silent. What in the world was he going to do about her? She
would probably wait here for him until she starved to death or,
equally as distressing, until she was apprehended. Abruptly he
shrugged his shoulders--to the extent that his pauldrons
permitted--and remounted the rohorse. Why should it matter to him what
became of her? He'd returned to the Age of Chivalry to steal the
Sangraal, not to play nursemaid to damosels in distress. "Don't take
any wooden nickels now," he said.
Two tiny stars appeared in the pale regions of her eyes and twinkled
down her cheeks. "May the good Lord speed ye upon thy quest, fair
knight, and may He guard ye well."
"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Mallory said, and reaching down, pulled her up
onto Easy Money's croup. "I have a castle not far from here. I'll drop
you off, then I'll go after the Sangraal."
Her breath was warm little wind seeping through the crevices of his
gorget. "Oh, fair sir, ye be the noblest of all the knights in all the
land, and I shall serve thee faithfully for the rest of my days!"
The rohorse whinnied. _Giddy-ap, Easy Money_, Mallory encephalopathed,
and they started out.