She slept the day while I kept watch, waking to complain that she was hungry. We shared what little cheese was left, eating it with the dry bread using the cider to wash it all down.
Sleeping there again that night, the morn saw her ready to proceed. The soreness of the last thorn was, she assured me, completely healed.
We walked the long day through the rough scrubland, stopping only to consume a meagre mid-day meal. A wide featureless plain opening out before us, as the fingers of the ridges broadened and flattened. .
"It's time we found somewhere to rest for the night," I commented as the sun was but a handwidth above the horizon.
Around us I could see only open scrubland with the occasional clump of stunted bushes; a line of small trees marked the watercourse of a stream.
There were no shepherd shelters or winter storehouses visible, and I didn't think proceeding in the gathering darkness was a good idea, which left only the trees for shelter.
"I think the trees over there will offer our best hope of shelter," I said, pointing to the tree line on our left.
We made our way over the rough mixture of rushes and spiky grasses to the side of the stream, where I spread the cloak on the ground under one of the trees. She sat with her back to the tree, looking weary from the day's long walk.
"Do you want to eat?" I asked her, opening the sack and pulling out the last of the bread. She nodded and I broke the bread, and passed half to her along with a strip of the dried meat.
I took a strip of the dried meat and bit a chunk off. Laying back I thought back over our day. I could never even in my wildest dreams have imagined a day like today, it must be even worse for her.
I was already mentally prepared to leave home for my journeyman's adventures. She on the other hand had lost not only her home but her family and in all probability her future prospects.
I looked to the east where the sun was already half under the earth, the evening chill creeping over us. We had a least another days trek before we reached civilisation again.
She broke into my thoughts.
"What is your given name?" she asked softly.
"Rigbetif." I replied.
"Mine is Sisoft."
"I know, the maids called you that when talking about you."
"What did they say of me?"
"My lady, nothing you should hear from my lips."
I changed the subject.
"How are you faring after our long days walk?"
"Tired, my legs ache like I've danced all night long."
I laughed. "Oh but that were true," I exclaimed. "That this were some dream that we should awaken from, warm and cosy in our beds."
"The cold creeps in, can we light a fire?" she asked.
"A fire will be seen for miles. It would draw attention to us, maybe unwanted attention."
"But I am cold."
I got up and lifted the cloak around her, tucking it behind her shoulders leaving only her head free.
I had need to relieve myself.
"I need to use the bushes," I said, "I won't be far away."
I walked a short distance downstream and crouched behind a bush, eased both my bladder and my bowels. The leaves on the tree were too young, newly broken from their spring buds, so I walked to the side of the stream to scoop some soft sand to clean myself.
As I walked back alongside the meandering watercourse I spied a cove, hollowed by some spring flood, that was filled with last year's windblown leaves. A tree, roots exposed, offered cover above.
I picked my pace up and hurried back to tell the Princess.
"My lady, there is a hollow not far that will make a more comfortable place for us to rest."
"I have given you my name to use," she said softly, scolding me as she freed herself from the cloak.
"I am greatly honoured," I returned. "But I dare not use it for there will be ears listening for it."
"Very well, my father called me Sissy," She said favouring me with a rare smile.
Were I a full wizard, she had given me power over her, the power even to capture her heart.
I walked to her and took her by the shoulders.
"You must give that name to no one, your familial name holds power over you if used in incantations," I warned.
Her face blanched.
"Fear not from me, for I am bound to you by oath of fealty to your father," I said softly, "But others might want to bind you a slave for your beauty alone."
Even in the fading twilight I could see her blush.
We ensconced ourselves in the hollow. I created some blankets as our mattress, for under the cloak. A warm straw coverlet, for the top made a cosy bed for the pair of us. We lay huddled together on the thick cloak, that our bodies may warm each other.
"My lady, I have a confession to make," I said, as I half turned to her, for we lay back to back. "My powers though considerable are not limitless... I can carry this illusion of clothes for some time yet, but it is better I rest my mind and conserve my thoughts to the bedding. I may need an uncluttered mind if some peril befalls us."
With the clothes gone I could tuck the bedding into a corner of my mind till the morning, keeping them real while I slept. Should I have need, I had plenty of room to conjure our defence.
"What mean you Rigbetif?" She said, a worried edging her voice as she turned to me.
"That, if you would allow me, I would release the illusion of our clothes."
She thought for a moment. "If it must be then let it be," she said finally.
The clothes dissolved, I could feel her warm flesh pressing against mine through my thin nightshirt.
I turn onto my back and she draped her arm across my chest, her leg across my thigh, arm on my shoulder, nestling her head. Pulling the coverlet tight against the chill of the night, I squeezed my arm from under her and clasped it round her neck and shoulders. We lay a while till she asked me about my power of illusion.
"How do you create illusions?"
"You create a picture in your mind and kind of see it where you want it."
"But it feels so real."
"It is real while I hold it in my mind, but it is gone the second I release it, otherwise we would have fine food to eat. The illusion gives us no sustenance, it passes through us like we've eaten stones; it is the power of the Father over the world created by the holy Family."
"I still don't understand, you sound like the priest at services."
"I don't think anyone truly understands except the wizards of the grand council."
She sighed.
"Thank you."
"Thank you?" I asked querulously.
"Mostly, when I ask questions I am told 'not to bother my head about it' as if I'm stupid and won't understand it, even if they tell me."
"There's nowt wrong with your understanding. You have both beauty and brains when you stop and use them, a dangerous combination in most women."