Chapter 3

Trysting

Wine comes in at the mouth

And love comes in at the eye;

That's all we shall know for truth

Before we grow old and die.

I lift the glass to my mouth,

I look at you, and sigh.

~William Butler Yeats

I.

Casiphia rode up to the ruins outside Turgey Wood with her head bowed to hide the small smile that she couldn't quell as she saw Stayne watching her from the top of the long flight of stairs that curved up the left side of the building. She was more practically dressed for today's adventure, white still, but linen rather than silk or satin and with a divided riding skirt, and her hair in a long braid down her back, hooded in an old green cloak that had belonged to her father. This would be the first time she had seen Ilosovic since their encounter at the Red Queen's castle.

Not that they hadn't communicated. As much as she regretted relying on Bayard the hound to transmit the letters she wrote to the Knave, he was the only messenger she truly trusted. He was faithful to the White Queen and terrified of the Red, and between the two, she and Stayne knew that their communications would be safe.

Brief, those were, but tender. And they had determined that the ruins would be the safest place for them to meet, safely away from all those who would prevent whatever sort of association this would turn out to be.

As Casiphia dismounted and suggested to her horse that she remain quietly by the tumbled blocks at the foot of the ruins with Stayne's horse (Quill nodded her head in agreement), the Knave walked down the steps to greet her.

"No problem getting away?" he said.

"No one said a thing. Really, I think I could do with someone looking after me, but I'm so unpleasant when anyone tries, that no one dares," she said with a wry smile.

"A sentiment I understand," Stayne said, offering her his arm.

"Somehow I believe that," Casiphia replied with a twinkle, taking it.

The walls were broken away from the foundation, for the most part, leaving only some broken pillars and a splendid view of the surrounding terrain. Up the stairs they went, and Stayne led her to the back of the old palace, where the Crimson Sea spread out below and beyond in a misty shimmer. It was a warm day, lit with diffused sunlight, and a few rooks flying overhead were the only other living things in sight.

"Milady," he said archly, showing her to the embroidered carpet he had laid down for their picnic. "Would you like a warm pig belly for your aching feet?"

"No, thank you, I most certainly would not," she said, arranging her garments neatly about her and pulling the strap of her shoulder bag over her head. "However, I've brought us something." This turned out to be wine, decanted into a green bottle. "Elderflower wine, from the palace gardens. My apologies that we will have to drink from the bottle--we can't spare any crockery right now."

"That will be a perfect accompaniment to these," the Knave said with a sideways look. From his own satchel he drew a packet of pastries, a bit squashed from the trip but still perfectly serviceable.

"Are those…they are! Tarts!" Casiphia exclaimed. "However did you…I see why they call you a Knave!"

"My reputation occasionally proves itself useful," Stayne replied.

No sooner had Casiphia taken a bite of tart--strawberry and lemon, and baked to perfection--than there was a puff in the air and a grin, followed by a large and furry face. "My, my, what have we here?"

Casiphia started and threw a hand against her pounding heart. "Is there nowhere safe from you?"

"Wh, my dear," said the Cheshire Cat, turning lazily over on his back in the air to regard her. "I'm not a threat. You don't need to be safe from me. I don't follow politics, after all, and I don't care what company either one of you may seek.

"Although, if you were feeling insecure about that, I could be bribed with, oh, a tart."

Casiphia thrust a tart at the Cat, who took a delicate bite and twitched his whiskers at her. And then he and tart disappeared, or at least became invisible.

"Why is it that things that should be only amusing are yet so threatening?" Casiphia asked Stayne.

"The times we live in, milady. Cheers." And he toasted to her with the wine bottle, and a crooked smile.

II.

All in green went my love riding

on a great horse of gold

into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling

my heart fell dead before.

~e.e. cummings

This meeting was different in nearly every way from the last.

Quillian Day dawned windy, with clouds scudding swiftly past the sun, striating the earth with rapidly alternating shadows and light. The sea was turbulent beyond the cliffs, and the daylight itself seemed oddly tinged. Casiphia had galloped madly to her rendezvous with Stayne after receiving a cryptic message from him, as well as an apology from Bayard that he would no longer be returning to the Red Castle. And Stayne himself was stomping about angrily, his demeanor as turbulent as the clouds overhead and his scowl as dark as thunder.

"What? What could you have done that could be so terrible?" she said, grasping his arm to stop him from pacing, holding her ground nervously as he fixed her with his single dark eye.

He took a deep breath and began. "A new person came to the castle--a woman of great size. The Queen was quite taken with her, and I thought that perhaps the Resistance would find her of interest. So I thought I would try to charm her and sound her out as to where she stands on the the divide between the Queens, only to repel her utterly. The Queen learned of this somehow--I have my suspicions as to how--and lost her temper, and I panicked and claimed Unlawful Seduction. And then, on top of this, the woman turned out to be Alice."

"The Alice?" gaped Casiphia.

"The one and only." Stayne pulled away from her and began pacing again, pulling off his gauntlets and throwing them to the ground in anger. "Stupid, stupid! Now Alice believes I'm a degenerate, the Queen isn't convinced she can trust me, and I now know for certain that her courtiers will throw me to the wolves given the chance. And with Alice back, there is sure to be imminent war." His hand strayed to the hilt of his sword as he thought of the need to defend himself.

"Ilosovic, shh," Casiphia said, stepping in front of him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "As you have said, these are confusing times. Motivations are complicated, and everyone is more than a bit mad. Surely your mistakes won't be as catastrophic as you believe."

"I wish I could believe that," he muttered. "At least you are still giving me a chance."

"And I will continue to do so. I will do whatever I can to see that others treat you fairly. And I will take care of you as best I am able," she added with a smile. "Perhaps someday you can do the same for me."

That was a meeting that culminated with a fervent kiss, and with the Knave sweeping the Lady in Waiting into his arms and finding a sheltered corner inside the palace ruins, where he laid her down upon his embroidered cloak. They came together in fierce communion, heedless of the marks and bruises they left upon each other's bodies, needing comfort that transcending manners and gentleness. And they gripped each tightly afterwards, wishing they could remain in their hideout, wishing they could avoid politics and war and all the frenzy that inevitably awaited them.