Page 20 of The Hellbeast's Betrayal

Asher cleared his throat in an obvious way, making Tyr correct,

“Us… to take you from us, that is what I meant.”

I let this slip in order to point out,

“He has an army.” Something that made Tyr scoff arrogantly, prompting me to try harder to convince him of the potential risk. “Yes but…” I started to say, yet he was quick to interrupt.

“Don’t worry, we won’t stay long, just long enough to get you something to eat and a nap.”

“You make me sound like a pet,” I grumbled, making him ruffle my hair and say,

“A cute red one.”

I rolled my eyes and looked to Asher for help, as he at least seemed to be the more sensible of the two.

“And what are your thoughts on this?” I asked.

“Your safety is our main concern, but I agree, you need to rest in a bed and eat before we continue to the port…”

Tyr jarred the table enough that his axe banged against it.

“What were you saying?”

“The Gate of Hermes, that’s what he was going to say,” Tyr spoke for him, and just before I could ask anything else, the waitress came with our drinks.

This was a long plank she held up on her shoulder that she lowered to reveal the large horns that contained frothy beer. I then watched as both Tyr and Asher took theirs, with the Viking quickly knocking his back with great gulps that worked the thick muscles of his neck. As for Asher, he slotted his horn into the hole cut in the table, now telling me what they were used for.

“Er… I think I will just take a water,” I said, then I tapped my belly and added, “You know, thanks to the dodgy stomach.”

“Suit yourself, water and three of your stews with black fire bread,” Tyr said, grabbing the horn intended for me and dropping his now empty one back in the hole on the plank she carried. Then after putting in his order and gaining a wink in return, she walked away with what looked like her trademark swagger. That was if all the appreciative glances she received when walking by were anything to go by.

As for Tyr, he grabbed my ale but, this time, he didn’t knock it back like the first. As for Asher, he seemed to be more alert, watching everyone for the slightest sign of trouble and taking a few conservative sips of his beer.

Shortly after this, the waitress delivered my water, along with three clay bowls of steaming brown stew that looked full of root vegetables and some kind of red meat. One that I was pretending was beef, and even before Tyr could speak, I warned,

“I don’t want to know what’s in it.”

Asher laughed before tucking into his own. To be honest, it wasn’t that bad. The meat might have been a bit chewy for my taste, but the vegetables were good. They were sweet and tasted a bit like something between a carrot and parsnip.

I think this was supposed to counterbalance the salt in the sauce, which definitely needed the sweetness. As for the bread, it didn’t look particularly appetizing at all. In fact, it looked like a large lump of crusted lava on a wooden slab. The crust was black and cracking, revealing lines of red dough beneath. Like someone had burnt a red loaf and this was the result after cooking it with a blow torch.

“Try it, I think you will be surprised,” Tyr said, leaning into me and nudging my shoulder. This after tearing me off the first piece. The steam rising did look inviting, opening up to reveal swirls of red and yellow bread inside the crust. And it was dripping with something too, making me ask,

“Is that butter?”

Asher grabbed a piece, took a big bite of the swirly center and moaned before answering,

“Sure is, mmm.”

So I did the same, and I too was soon moaning in pleasure as, I swear, it was one of the nicest things I had ever put in my mouth…Jared not included, I thought with a naughty grin.

But the light, fluffy dough combined with the buttery swirl was perfect, however, when Asher started eating the crust I wasn’t brave enough, prompting Tyr to say,

“It isn’t burnt, if that’s your fear.”

“It’s not.”

Tyr shook his head and nodded to the shell of the bread left in my hand. So, I shrugged my shoulders and took a bite, surprised once again to find it salty and a bit spicy, but not in an overpowering way. Then I watched as Tyr dipped his own in his stew, using the curved, hard crust as a scoop before putting it in his mouth. This encouraged me to do the same. Once again, I moaned at the taste, as it transformed the stew into something far more delicious, like the spice was all it needed.

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