She swept her fingers over the strings, and began to sing to him as the dusk gathered. The woods melted into a cloud of blackness; the red of the sky changed to amber; moths came to feed from the white flowers in the grasses of the wild garden.
Between the snatches of song she leaned toward him, and he knelt to meet her.
“What if we die to-morrow? What can the Lord of Troy take from us?”
“No man shall take you while I live.”
“And in the Forest the birds sing at dawn.”
“And in the night I lie before your door to guard it with my body.”
They looked long into each other’s eyes.
“Martin Valliant,” she said very softly, “Martin Valliant.”
And he bowed himself and kissed her feet.