Page 64 of Bride of Ice
The three of them exchanged puzzled glances.
Colban replied, “I won’t. Ye have my word.”
Gellir must have used his boot to swing the door open. One hand gripped a small dagger. The other held aloft a platter draped with a napkin. He stopped with a scowl. “What the devil?”
“Don’t be an arse, Gellir,” Isabel scolded. “Poor Colban can hardly walk. He’s not going to wrestle you for that plate of…whatever you’ve brought.”
Gellir closed the door and lowered the dagger. “Why are you here?”
Isabel raised her chin. “Why areyouhere?”
“Even a hostage needs a proper breakfa-…” He glanced at the two trays. “What’s that you’re feeding him? Tarts?”
Brand took offense. “What’s wrong with tarts?”
“He’s a man of war. He needs something of more substance than tarts.”
Brand countered, “He likes tarts.”
“Besides,” Isabel chimed in, “he has all this as well.” She swept her arm toward the feast she’d brought. “So he doesn’t really need more of your…” She narrowed her eyes at his platter. “Whatisthat?”
Gellir whipped off the napkin. An enormous slab of glistening meat sat on a flat trencher of bread. “A roast.”
“A roast?” Isabel snickered. “A whole roast?”
Gellir’s face clouded. “I’ll have you know it came at a great price. I had to promise the cook a new cleaver.”
To keep the peace, Colban said, “Thank ye for your generosity. Let me sample that roast then, since it came at such a cost.”
Gellir wasn’t about to let Colban have the dagger. So he cut several slices from the roast himself. Then he offered the platter to Colban.
The siblings all waited with bated breath as he took a bite. The beef was savory and succulent, fattier than the meat of the wild cattle grazed on Highland grasses. He nodded his approval.
“That’s a meal for a champion,” Gellir boasted.
In truth, it was more likea dozenmeals for a champion. He hoped the lad didn’t expect him to finish off the roast.
“Ye’ve been very kind,” Colban said with gentle diplomacy, adding a wee lie. “In truth, I feared your sister might wish to starve me for my foolishness this morn.”
As predicted, all three rushed to her defense.
“Hallie wouldn’t do that!” Isabel assured him.
“I wouldn’t let her,” Brand said.
“Our sister can be firm,” Gellir said, “but she’s not cruel.”
It appeared her siblings were as loyal to her as she was to them. Still, they’d gone behind her back to bring him food.
“There’s far too much here for me to eat alone,” he said. “I hope ye’ll join me and indulge yourselves. Gellir, can ye carve up the rest o’ this roast while Brand gives everyone a tart?”
They seated themselves on the edge of the bed, filling their bellies. Before long, their chins were shiny with beef fat and their fingers were sticky with fruit.
“What’s going on?” came a wee voice from the open doorway.
Ian had entered so quietly, no one had noticed. In one hand was his ubiquitous notebook. In the other was a long wooden staff.
“Come on in, Ian,” Brand called out. “Shut the door.”
