from platter to platter; her belly rumbled and quaked in an attempt to break down her resolve.
“My lady?” A sliver of tender hare’s meat wavered in front of her, flourished expertly on a silver blade. Servanne stared at the delicate pink morsel, following the movement of her tormentor’s hand until the meat was taken away and deposited between his own lips. A dribble of clear juice ran over his lower lip and trickled down his chin. Servanne’s tongue peeped out anxiously from the corner of her mouth, lingering there even after a casual wipe of his hand had removed the trail of sweet grease.
“A bite of lark pasty, perhaps? This way you can judge for yourself our boasting over Goodwife Mab’s skills.”
“No. Thank you,” she whispered.
He shrugged and the tender, delicate shred of meat, wrapped lightly and lovingly in a blanket of egg-glazed pastry, went the way of the declined hare. In the next instant, she swore she could hear the buttery pastry crunching between the strong white teeth; she had her own imaginary tidbit half chewed and swallowed before she caught herself and clenched her jaws tightly together in anger.
He was only being attentive because he knew she must be starving. It would serve him right if she fainted dead away and—
“Delicious,” he murmured, drawing the word out to ten syllables. “Mistress Mab, you have outdone yourself.”
A short woman, round as a dumpling and just as soft, giggled and bobbed gratefully after the compliment.
“Indeed, mistress. The fare is by far the best I have tasted in quite some time, and that includes a visit to the royal kitchens at Windsor.”
Servanne’s eyes opened wide. Hardly believing her ears, she looked to her left and confirmed that it was Biddy who had spoken, her mouth stuffed with the lark pasty. Moreover, all three layers of chin were dobbed with grease, and there was an unmistakable flush of warmth on her cheeks to indicate her wine goblet was not being refilled for the first time.
“Shall we cry ‘Judas’ and have her flayed for insubordination?” a husky baritone mused in her ear.
“Biddy is … older; not as strong. She needs to keep up her health.”
The explanation sounded feeble, even to Servanne’s ears, but her salvation was quick to come from another source.
“You should eat something as well, sweet lady,” Sparrow advised. “The rare air here in the greenwood thins the blood if it is not well fed. Even an apple, or a bit of cheese will help keep the humours balanced. You would not want to fall ill and have to rely upon the services of old Norwood the Leech, now would you? He came to us with Mab and claims to be a fair barber and a drawer of teeth, but as to his leeching talents … we have not yet found a survivor to accredit them.”
A sad shake of the tousled brown mop of hair sent Servanne’s attention to a large, toothless toad of a man who was grinning at her from the lower tier and waving a dripping joint of mutton by way of acknowledging the compliments.
He had a red, leaky nose fully as broad as his face, and wore an apron of leather that had become so stained and encrusted, it was moulded to his body like armour.
“Perhaps … a bit of apple,” Servanne conceded.
Sparrow jumped up to stand on his stool so that he could reach the far side of the table. Quick as spit, there was a small collection of choice, tasty bits of meat, pastry, and other delicacies heaped on a freshly cut slab of white bread. This he placed in front of her and settled back onto his stool, his feet dangling several inches off the ground. He was aware, as was Servanne, of the smouldering gray eyes that had followed his every move, but if the threat of sudden flame troubled him, it was not reflected in his next piece of sage advice.
“The best way to stop a fly from annoying you is to stop swatting at him,” he said with a wink and an elfin grin. “Eventually it gets bored and flies away to pester someone else.”
There was wisdom in what he said, and, the fact that it caused the Wolf’s brows to furl together like the gathering clouds of a storm, prompted Servanne to breach her resolve to starve to death. She reached for a thin slice of capon and took the tiniest bite into her mouth. It was delicious, which made