Page 36 of Stardust Child

The road formed the outer perimeter of Tresingale, a pleasant ride on the edge of the forest to the northeast, with glimpses of loggers shouting at each other as they cleared the land before the palisade. The forest curvedaway by itself on the east side of time, baring gentle green slopes perfect for grazing. It was there that they found Juste, dressed in a simple jerkin and breeches and looking very much like any other herdsman.

“Well enough, my lord,” he said when Remin inquired after the sheep. “Though there’s a break in the pasture wall somewhere, we keep finding sheep amongst the goats. Your rams are starting fights.”

“We could go look for it,” Ophele offered, looking up at Remin. “Couldn’t we?”

Looking into those golden eyes, glowing with the gentle light of morning, Remin couldn’t think of anything he’d like more.

The eastern hills were beautiful. Vivid green from frequent rain, the grass was cropped to a smooth carpet by grazing herd beasts and solitary trees crowned the hilltops. Though Remin knew his usual coterie of guards was nearby, there was still the tempting illusion that they were alone. Sometimes it was as if Ophele’s touch lingered on his skin, and it was easy to imagine taking her to one of those solitary trees so she could touch him again, and he could watch leaf shadows dance over her skin.

“I promised Elodie she could start attending me tomorrow,” she said as they walked together. They had left Remin’s horse back at the herder’s croft, glaring at the herdsmen. “She came to the cookhouse to ask while I was having lessons. Though I’m still not sure what to do with a pagegirl, exactly.”

“My mother had one that carried her embroidery box for her,” Remin remembered. “She would have been ten or eleven, I think. Whenever she was sitting down, my mother was embroidering.”

“I think my mother did too, but I don’t remember it much,” Ophele replied. “She liked to dance with me and read together. She always said you can never be too lonely if you have books.”

Remin squeezed her hand. They were both orphans, for all that her father was alive. But soon, his mother’s embroidery box would arrive, one of the few things he had left of her. He was looking forward to giving it to Ophele. Elodie could carry it about for her, and before long he might have something that Ophele had made for him, embroidered with a wolf demon or a bear or even a silver R. He was utterly confident that his clever wife could turn her hands to anything.

A little more than a mile from the road, they spotted the break in the wall, though only because several sheep were actively escaping through it.

“Oh, those bad things,” said Ophele, and seized his hand to break into a run, flashing a smile at him of sheer exuberance. Remin stretched his long legs and won a squeal of delight from her as he swept her along, her little boots barely skimming the grass.

They had almost reached the sheep when it happened. Three of them were already through the gap and a fourth one was squirming through when it stumbled on a flat rock at the base of the wall. Its head went down, its legs went up, and it turned a slow somersault and landed flat on its back between two large rocks, four legs stuck stiffly in the air.

The sheep let out a bleat of protest and looked directly at them, shocked.

Remin just shook his head, checking another laugh. He had gone a few paces before he realized that Ophele was no longer with him. She was sitting on the grass behind him, laughing so hard she could barely speak.

“D-did you see hisface?”she gasped, holding her sides.“Me-eh-eh-eh,he said.Meheheh.”

It was actually a fairly decent imitation of the sheep’s bleating. Remin’s lips quivered dangerously as he went to right the sheep while Ophele expired behind him, grabbing for the animal’s flailing legs. It wiggled, looked him dead in the eye, and bleated again.

“Me-eh-eh-eh,”said Ophele.

“Ophele,” he said warningly. His own sides were starting to shake. And it wasn’t that the sheep was heavy, but it was surprisingly hard to get a grip on, between its loose, shifting skin and thick wool. He grunted as the sheep’s flailing back legs kicked him in the shin. The way it was bleating and struggling made him feel like he was molesting the unwilling beast.

“Me-eh-eh-eh,”the sheep protested, flinging out an accusatory foreleg.

“Me-eh-eh-eh,”said Ophele, laughing wildly, and Remin lost it, a burst of laughter erupting before he could check it.

“Stopthat,” he gasped, fighting to get the sheep out of there before Ophele killed him. He didn’t even care if it was going off to pick a fight with the goats.

That thought finished him. In desperation he kicked one of the rocks next to the sheep loose and let it scramble to its feet on its own, sagging back onto the stone wall and laughing so hard tears streamed down hischeeks. His sides actually hurt. He was only just getting hold of himself when Ophele appeared beside him with her features arranged in a naughtier version of the sheep’s shocked face and set him off all over again.

“Stop, stop, I mean it,” he wheezed, covering her face with one huge hand. “Enough. Enough, I yield.”

She pulled his hand down, laughing.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” she said, delighted, and her giggles fluttered against his belly as he pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her slender waist.

“I don’t laugh much,” he admitted.

“I like your laugh.” Her chin tilted up, an obvious invitation to kiss her. For once he did, long and slow, never mind who might be watching.

“Let’s go collect the sheep before they start a brawl,” he said, pulling her along with him and trying not to laugh again as she softly and tenderly bleated behind him.

It was as if a dam had burst. For the rest of the day, he kept flashing back to that ridiculous sheep, making him bite his tongue to keep from smiling while he was at the barracks that afternoon. At supper Ophele passed him the rolls with a muttered,me-eh-eh-eh,that made him look down hastily to control an explosion.

“Ophele,” he said warningly, covering his mouth with his hand to hide it, but he couldn’t hold it back and suddenly he was tired of living this way, hiding what he felt for fear that someone somehow would use it against him.

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