The Moonspinners by Mary Stewart Page B

fire again, for coffee.’
    I waited for his protest, but it didn’t come. He took the flask from me without speaking. I added, hesitatingly: ‘I – I’m sorry Lambis didn’t have better news.’
    The thermos top seemed to have stuck. He gave it a wrench with his good hand, and it came. ‘Well, it’s what I expected.’ He glanced up then, but I had the impression that I wasn’t fully in focus. ‘Don’t worry any more, Nicola.’ A smile, that looked like something taken out to wear, that one wasn’t used to. ‘Sufficient unto the day. Let’s eat first, shall we?’
    I left him carefully pouring soup, and hurried into the cleft to get the fire going.
    It was a wonderful meal. We had the soup first, then corned beef, sandwiched between the thick Abernethy biscuits; some cake stiff with fruit; chocolate; and then the coffee, scalding hot, and sweetened with the tinned milk. I ate ravenously; Lambis, who had fed himself on the boat, took very little; Mark, making, after the first few mouthfuls, an obvious effort, did very well. When at last he sat cradling his half-empty cup of coffee between his hands, as if treasuring the last of its warmth, I thought he looked very much better.
    When I said so, he seemed to come with a jerk out of his thoughts. ‘Well, yes, I’m fine now, thanks to you and Lambis. And now, it’s time we thought about what happens next.’
    Lambis said nothing. I waited.
    Mark blew a cloud of smoke, and watched it feather to nothing in the bright air. ‘Lambis says this man was almost certainly making for Agios Georgios, and – since it’s the nearest – it does seem only reasonable to suppose that, whoever these blighters are, they come from there. That makes it at once easier, and more complicated. I mean, we know where to start looking, but it’s certain, now, that we can’t go down there for official help.’ He shot a quick glance at me, as if prepared for a protest, but I said nothing. He went on: ‘All the same, obviously, the first step is to get down there – somehow – and find out about my brother. I’m not such a fool as to think—’ this with a touch of weary hopelessness – ‘that I could do very much myself yet, but even if I can’t make it, Lambis will go.’
    Lambis made no reply; indeed, he hardly seemed to be listening. I realized, suddenly, that between the two men, everything that had to be said had already been said. The council of war had been held already – while I had been sent to get the food – and its first conclusions reached. I thought I knew what they were.
    â€˜And so,’ Mark was saying smoothly, without looking at me, like someone trying out a delicate tape-recorder set somewhere in the middle distance, ‘will Nicola, of course.’
    I had been right. First order in council: Women and camp-followers, out of the way; the campaign’s about to start .
    He was addressing me directly now. ‘Your cousin’s coming today, isn’t she? You’ll have to be there, or there’ll be questions asked. You could be down at the hotel, and checked in . . .’ a glance at his wrist . . . ‘good heavens, by lunchtime, probably. Then you can – well, forget all this, and get on with that holiday of yours, that Lambis interrupted.’
    I regarded him. Here we were again, I thought: the smile, friendly, but worn as a vizard to anxiety; the obstinate mouth; the general wariness of manner which meant ‘thank you very much, and now, please go away – and stay away.’
    â€˜Of course,’ I said. I pulled my canvas bag towards me over the juniper needles, and began putting my things into it, rather at random. He was perfectly right, I knew that; and anyway, there was nothing more I could do. With Frances coming today, I would have to get out, and keep out. Moreover – I