Page 157 of Bride of Ice
He paid a servant to fetch supper from the castle—pork pies, ruayn cheese on brown bread, apple tarts, and ale—for him and the three French knights sharing the pavilion.
They were halfway through the meal when an unexpected guest arrived.
“I knew it!”
“Shite,” Colban breathed.
It was Morgan. With an angry slap of the pavilion flap behind him, he strode to where Colban was and gave him a hard shove that almost knocked him off the trunk where he was sitting.
“Hey!” Colban complained, trying not to spill his ale.
“Where the devil have ye been?”
Colban scowled. “I thought ye’d be a wee bit glad to see me.”
“Well, ye thought wrong. I’ve been worried sick about ye for weeks.”
The three French knights began to murmur in speculation among themselves.
Colban sniffed. “Ye know I can take care o’ myself.”
“Is that so? Well, in case ye didn’t realize it, ye’re a wanted mur-…” Morgan glanced at the others and lowered his voice. “Tell me the truth. Did ye kill Archibald Scott?”
“Aye,” Colban said stiffly.
“What?” Morgan’s eyes widened.
“But I had my reasons.”
Morgan hissed, “Would one o’ those reasons be lustin’ after the man’s wife?”
Insulted, Colban stood up and gave Morgan a hard shove into the pavilion wall. “Ye know me better than that.”
Morgan’s eyes smoldered into his. Then he pushed away from the pavilion wall, brushing off the sleeve of his cotun. “Why did ye return?”
“Ididn’t,” Colban told him. “The Sable Knight returned.” He shrugged and grumbled, “He needed the coin.”
“Ah. So ye won’t be stayin’?” Morgan’s tone was cool and lordly. But Colban knew that his friend—his brother—was hurt.
“Ye know I cannot,” he said, “not after what I’ve done.”
Morgan compressed his lips. Hedidknow. “Isn’t there some way—”
“There you are!”
Isabel burst into the pavilion so suddenly she startled a squeak out of one of the French knights who was changing out of his leine. The lass—sweaty, out of breath, disheveled—paid the knight no mind.
“What the devil?” Colban seized her upper arm and steered her away from the others.
This was not good. Not at all. Morgan would have kept Colban’s secret. But if Isabel had recognized him, news of his arrival would be all over Creagor in a matter of hours. Hell, she may have spread the gossip already.
“What are ye doin’ here?” he demanded.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“How? By peekin’ in all the pavilions?”
“Aye.” She shrugged. “How else was I to find you? I mean, after youranaway from the tournament field…”
