Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,47
the kitchens were so bereft of food this morn, Hallie couldn’t understand. The cauldron of frumenty had been scraped clean. There was no bacon. And not a crumb of a fruit tart remained.
Battling Sir Colban must have worked up the knights’ appetites, because they’d all but cleaned out the pantry as well. And now she didn’t know what to give the Highlander for breakfast.
She supposed she shouldn’t be disappointed. After all, most captors forced hostages to subsist on bread and water. Hell, some let them starve. If she wanted to be feared as a fierce Border laird, she had to harden her heart against showing too much mercy.
On the other hand, she had to admit Colban the Champion had committed a noble gesture this morn, even if it was misguided. His kindness should be rewarded. And she felt she owed him an apology of sorts for her callous remark about being of no use to her dead. While that was technically true, it had naught to do with her feelings about his worth.
As she headed for the larder to see what she could scrape together, her thoughts were a snarl of confusion.
All her life, Hallie had been drilled on the various situations that might arise when she was laird of Rivenloch.
She knew the castle protocols for an English attack.
She knew how to settle clan disputes over personal property.
She knew how to hire and dismiss maidservants and turnbrochies.
She knew how to purchase goods. How to rally the knights for battle. How to plan banquets.
She knew what to do about lazy crofters, sickly sheep, and unfaithful wives.
She could handle thieves, beggars, nuns, cattle reivers, harlots, murderers, unexpected guests, and—until very recently—wolves.
But this hostage had broken a link in the perfectly meshed chain mail of her command.
His actions were nothing like she’d been taught to expect.
He had no birthright, yet he possessed the qualities of a noble.
He had no education, yet he had a quick and clever mind.
And he had more honor than common sense.
His unpredictability made him a threat, especially when the first rule of warfare was to know one’s enemy.
She sighed. She’d hoped her parents would be home by now. But seeing she was going to have to maintain the role of laird a while longer and possibly deal with the matter of Creagor herself, she needed more information. As unsettling as the task was, she had to find out exactly who Colban an Curaidh was. And how valuable he was to his laird.
Deciding on a stack of oatcakes, a dish of butter, and a cup of ale, she made up a modest platter for the prisoner.
Once his belly was full, she could start her interrogation.
Standing outside the bedchamber, she steeled herself for the encounter, determined not to let the Highlander’s kind eyes and silver tongue distract her from the fact he was a hostage and a foe.
She wasn’t prepared for what she found when she opened the door.
Seated at the foot of the bed like four hens crowded together on a perch were her siblings. They’d been clucking away like hens as well, until she came in.
“Hallie!” Isabel exclaimed, choking on the apple tart she was holding aloft.
They froze like figures sitting for a painting, all eyes on her. Hallie saw instantly why the pantry was bare. Platters piled high with food were balanced on their laps. Brand was guzzling from a cup. Ian was chewing on a piece of hard cheese. Gellir’s cheek bulged with whatever he was eating. They looked as guilty as hell.
Before she could ask them what the devil they were doing and remind them of the definition of fraternizing with the enemy, Colban, standing at the window, came to their defense.
“’Tisn’t their fault. They only brought me a bite to eat. They feared ye might decide to starve me.” His eyes flattened, and his next words were as jarring as a well-aimed slap in the face. “O’ course, I told them ye’d ne’er do such a thing. After all, I’m no use to ye dead, aye?”
Isabel swallowed her bite of tart and let out a nervous giggle, as if he’d made a clever jest. “Would you like to join us? There’s enough for everyone.”
“I knew you wouldn’t starve him, Hallie,” Brand assured her. “I just thought you might be too busy to remember to feed him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Isabel chided. “Can’t you see she brought him food? ’Tis a whole platter of…” Her face fell in disappointment. “Oatcakes.”