A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,121

you must admit I am pretty good."

"You are very good," he agreed, dropping his gaze to her lips. He grinned when he was rewarded with an honest blush.

The rain had lessened by the time they stopped to set up camp, though a fine mist still blurred the woods with a faerie-like quality, making even ordinary looking trees seem ethereal and enchanted. Gareth led the horses deep into the woods where the drizzle barely reached the ground. He helped Elena down from Isrid and began unsaddling both horses.

"Well, it's not completely dry in here, but we should be warm enough," he said as he scooped away the top layer of wet leaves from the well-mulched ground. Finding the leaves underneath relatively dry, he spread out their bedrolls next to each other. Elena stood watching, thinking that she should probably help in some way. Unfortunately, never having worried herself with such details, she knew not the first thing to do. Hesitant about asking Gareth for direction, she remained by the horses, petting Isrid's velvety nose. When Gareth had arranged the small camp to his liking, he stood and said, "I doubt I'll find any, but I think I'll look around a bit for some dry wood. A campfire would definitely take the chill off our evening."

"I'll go with you," Elena volunteered.

Gareth looked at her in surprise but wisely made not one joking remark. Instead he said, "Thank you," and moved to tie the horses to a nearby tree.

Elena scrambled through the underbrush with Gareth, trying to move as quietly as he did, but it was proved to be very difficult when branches were forever catching in her hair and snagging at her hose. Although, she reflected as Gareth helped her climb over a moss-encrusted log, these clothes make traveling, and firewood hunting, much easier than they would be in a gown, no matter how pretty or new that gown was. Elena felt so unrestrained in her borrowed garb. Her hands were free from holding hems off the ground, her legs were able to take long bounding strides unencumbered by yards of fabric, and, though these were no doubt Gareth's good clothes, she did not have to constantly worry about grinding dirt into the knees or tearing the sleeve on a tree branch. Yes, Elena decided, this mode of dress certainly had its advantages.

Elena followed Gareth's lead in looking for dry wood, burrowing under bushes and pulling apart rotten logs. Though she could not keep her lip from curling in disgust, she managed to keep quiet as Gareth loaded her arms with crumbling logs off of which ants and spiders scurried. When they finally made their way back to camp, the light was nearly gone from the overcast sky. Elena quickly dumped her armload of sticks and began vigorously brushing the dirt and twigs off her shirt. She could not suppress an, "Ugh," when her hand came away from her shirt covered with a slimy moss. With a distinctly queasy feeling in her stomach, she quickly knelt and wiped her hand in the damp grass that carpeted the forest floor. Still kneeling, she glanced up to see if Gareth had noticed her discomfiture. Though he had what looked like a suppressed grin on his face, his focus was fixed intently on building a fire from the smoldering logs. Relieved, Elena stood and made her way to the bedrolls. They offered little cushioning from the ground but they were dry and still warm from the body heat of the horses on which they'd been carried. She lay back on the ground and stretched, glad to send blood to the muscles that were weary of riding all day. Especially her inner thighs, she thought, flexing the muscles in her legs. She was not accustomed to riding astride and it seemed to require the use of a whole separate set of muscles.

Settling into a comfortable position on her side, she was content to watch Gareth stoke the now burning logs and open the satchel containing their food.

Gareth worked steadily, breaking off a chunk of the heavy bread and taking his knife to the slabs of hard sausage and cheese. Standing, he fetched the boiled leather wine flask and uncorked it. Though he worked diligently preparing their dinner, feeding the horses, and keeping the fire going, his mind was on other things; specifically, his beautiful traveling companion. He wondered what had possessed her to offer to help and marveled at her uncomplaining attitude when he had handed