Toby ran into the water, a white shape at the edge of her vision, then threw himself into the stream’s center. He bellowed with delight, sending up a glittering fountain of water, and then he was standing up to his chest in the stream’s center and brushing water from his eyes. “It’s wonderful. Come in.”

“It’s too cold.”

“You’re hot.”

She saw the dark bruise on his shoulder, the misshapen joint. “Have you got your glove on?”

“Come and find out.” He grinned at her, then pushed himself downstream, swimming away until he was hidden from her by a great stand of nettles. His voice came back strong to her. “You can come in now. I can’t see you.”

“You said that last year!”

He laughed, then was silent.

She was hot. Her dress seemed sticky, her skin prickly. The air quivered over the barley, the sun was bright on poppies and cornflowers.

She wanted to swim. She remembered the pure pleasure of it, the release of a soul in darkness, and she wanted to feel the stream about her body as if the clean, cool water might wash away the defilement of Faithful Unto Death Hervey’s hands. She waited for Toby to say something more, wishing him to ask her again, but he was silent. She shouted instead. “I’m staying here!”

“Good! Whatever you want, my love!”

She waited, frowning. He said nothing more, nor did he reappear from behind the nettle stand. She waited. “Where are you?”

“Here!”

She stood, walked to the nettles, and saw him twenty yards downstream. He grinned at her. “You see? I couldn’t see you.”

“Go further!” She waved to where the stream disappeared behind a bend thick with buckthorn and willow.

“Why should I? You’re not coming in.”

“I might if you go past the willow.”

He made a dutiful face, turned, and swam a few strokes. “Far enough?”

“Twice as far! Go on!”

He laughed and swam on, past the willow tree and into the shade of the buckthorns. She stood to see if he would come back, but he did not, so she walked back to where his clothes were thrown down and she looked, from the golden seal, casually discarded, to the sun-bright water. She wanted to go in, she wanted so much to go in. She was hot, she had dreamed so often of this, yet she knew why she really wanted to go into the water. The shadow must be destroyed.

She walked back to the nettles. She could not see Toby in the shadow of the tree. She called out, “Someone will see!”

There was no reply.

She walked back to his clothes, seeing the leather coat dropped on the sword, and then she looked all about her. The countryside was empty, not a person in sight, and she persuaded herself that she could swim quickly in the stream, be in and out of the water before Toby had time to come back from the trees.