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“The days are so long here,” Kin said, but Murdina laughed and shook her head.
“But as with all good things, we suffer for it, too–come the winter, tis’ lucky if we see the sun for days at a time. This is a land of contrasts, the bright nights of the summer, and the long darkness of the winter,” she replied, lifting the fish from the embers with a large dock leaf she had found growing by the side of the stream.
The flesh of the fish tasted sweet, and it felt good to sit with Kin by the fireside, the conversation flowing easily. Murdina now had no reason to doubt him–there was nothing mysterious about him, save his loss of memory, and, if he were leading her into a trap, he was certainly going about it with little haste.
“There is something about the stars appearing at night–the way they drift into sight,” he said, lying on his back and gazing up into the sky.
“And the way the moonlight shimmers on the water,” she said, pointing down to the pool below.
“It is very beautiful,” he replied, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a small hip flask.
“Where did ye get that from?” she asked, looking at him in surprise.
The flask bore her father’s coat of arms, and Kin smiled at her as he opened it and took a drink.
“Am I not a spy? I thought it suitable recompense for my days spent in the dungeons of your father’s castle,” he replied, handing her the flask, and urging her to drink.
The whisky felt warm to her throat, and it sent a shiver running through, its peaty aroma filling her nostrils.
“To warm yer heart,” she said, and he nodded.
“And to reward our day’s labors. We have journeyed far and, I hope, have put our pursuers behind us. They will not know which way we have come,” he said.
Murdina glanced back across the moorlands. There was no sign of anyone on the horizon, nor could she see the flames of another fire or smoke coming from the chimney of a croft. They were alone, and to be alone with Kin made her feel… she was uncertain. He had helped her escape, and the kiss they had shared had been a moment to savor, but what happened next remained a mystery. While Murdina was simply running, she knew Kin was running into something–even if he knew nothing of what that something was to be.
“Dae ye think ye will ever remember?” she asked, taking another sip from the flask he offered her.
“If I knew that, then I would have no fear,” he replied, and she nodded.
“But ye dae remember, just nae everythin’–ye remember how to fight, how to tame a pony, ye have nae forgotten everythin’ now,” she said, and he pondered for a moment before sighing.
“I do, but it is the closest things I seem least able to remember–what I am doing here, what I know of this place, all sorts of things like that,” he said, and she smiled at him.
“Dae ye remember how to swim?” she asked, the whisky having quite gone to her head.
“I remember water is cold and that the water in this stream will be icy,” he said, glancing nervously down at the stream.
“It will be nae colder than the sea,” Murdina said, and rising to her feet, she pulled off her shirt and breeches and ran down the bank towards the water.
She was naked, but she had no inhibitions–it was the only way in which to swim in the sea, and she and Cillian would often remove their clothes and wade out into the waters to leap through the waves. She jumped headlong into the pool, which was icy cold as Kin had thought. But with the chill came a refreshment, one she delighted in, and she called out for him to follow her.
“How is it?” he asked, running down the bank and pausing at the water’s edge.
“Tis’ ever so refreshin’–ye must come in,” she said, beckoning him to follow.
He seemed hesitant at first, as though his inhibition would prevent him from removing his clothes. But with Murdina’s urgings, he pulled off his waistcoat and shirt, exposing his chest with its defined and muscular lines. She watched him with interest. She had never seen another man– apart from Cillian–in such a state of undress. His was standing only in his breeches now, and he took a step into the water, even as she laughed at him.
“What is so funny?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Ye will never dry those breeches by the mornin’ if ye come in like that. Take them off, ye fool,” she said, and even in the moonlight, she could tell he was blushing.
“Turn away,” he said, and she fixed him with a mocking look.
“Ye think I know nothin’ of such a form. Come now, I have done the same,” she said, and she pulled herself up onto a rock in the middle of the water and sat with her legs pulled up to her chin, smiling at him.
The whisky had entirely gone to her head, and it had made her playful, the thoughts of their kiss bringing a warm glow to her heart, even if her skin was tingling with cold. With a smile, he relented, pulling off his breeches and tossing them aside before wading back into the water. Murdina stood up and dived down into the water, which now rippled with the reflection of the moonlight above.
She struck out across the water, meeting him halfway between the shore and the rock on which she had been sitting. Even in the growing darkness, the pool appeared crystal clear, deep, and cold, and she dived under, coming up right next to him and clasping him by the shoulders, their bodies entwined. It felt entirely right to be in his arms, to feel his body pressed against hers, and she smiled at him as he kicked his legs to keep them buoyant.
