floor. Harl crept forward to peer at it.
“What is it?” he asked, wrinkling his forehead.
“A piece of claw,” Kira said with loathing. “From a rock troll.”
Harl jerked his head up and his eyes grew round. “A rock troll? When? How?”
“We were attacked in the night as we made our way along the river on the other side of the mountain pass. There was a storm and we didn’t see the beast until it was too late.”
“How did you escape?” he asked in awe.
“My companions and I fought the beast and won our lives,” Kira cringed at her slip of the tongue. She hoped the boy hadn’t noticed her use of the plural.
“But—”
“You’d better hurry, or you’ll miss your morning meal,” she leaned back and shut her eyes. He was just a young boy, thirsty for adventure, but Kira was tired and she didn’t want to relive her battle with the troll.
There was silence for a moment, then the rustle of straw followed by the click of a latch as Harl left the stable.
Kira waited until he was gone before getting up. She gave Trad another pat, then stretched the knots from her muscles. Cool morning air had seeped into the stable and she stamped her feet to bring life back into them. She rubbed at her arms to shake off the chill and began cleaning up from the long night’s vigil. She’d just finished dumping the last of the herbal infusion and was returning from the midden heap when Harl returned carrying a steaming mug and a plate of food. Her stomach rumbled at the sight.
“Brilissa sent this for you.”
“That’s very kind of her,” Kira said, her mouth watering. She paused for a moment, wondering if the boy was telling her the truth. She wouldn’t want to deprive him of his breakfast. “Harl, are you sure the cook sent this for me?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, quickly. “She said to ask you to come to the kitchen after you’ve eaten and rested. That is, if you would. She was curious about the herbs you used to mend your horse. When I first asked for them, she thought you were trying to make some kind of soup.” He grinned at her.
Kira took the food from him. The plate was filled with thick slices of dark bread and wide strips of roasted pork. The food’s heady aroma filled her nostrils and Kira wondered if the meat was from the animal she’d brought to the hold the day before. “Thank you, Harl,” she said. “Please, thank Brilissa for me, and tell her I’ll be happy to speak with her.” She sat down on the crate, balancing the plate on her knees. The mug was filled with tea and cream and the rising steam carried the scent of aromatic spices. She wrapped her fingers around the warm mug and blew across the top before taking a sip. Hot creamy liquid filled her mouth, and rolled down her throat. Its warmth spread through her.
As she ate, Harl worked in the stable, turning out the old bedding and replacing it with fresh dry straw, and filling feed bins. The rustle of hay and the rattle of grain brought back her days on her parents’ farm. She hadn’t been much younger than Harl when the raiders had come burning their way across the land. She remembered the smoke and the fear in her mother’s eyes when she took Kira by the hand, running with her into the woods. She’d hidden Kira in the cleft of a hollow tree. The opening had been wide enough for Kira, but her mother had been unable to squeeze through the crevice. Kira clenched her eyes shut and forced away the rest of that painful memory.
She finished eating and stood up, swaying with exhaustion. She set the mug and plate down on the crate and, after swathing Trad’s leg once more, lay down in the straw and sank into a deep sleep.
* * *
Late morning sunlight streamed in through the door, casting a golden haze into the building. Kira sat up, disoriented. The memory of the past day and night came back to her and she jumped to her feet. Trad chewed contentedly on a mouthful of fresh hay. The feed bin inside his stall held a
“What is it?” he asked, wrinkling his forehead.
“A piece of claw,” Kira said with loathing. “From a rock troll.”
Harl jerked his head up and his eyes grew round. “A rock troll? When? How?”
“We were attacked in the night as we made our way along the river on the other side of the mountain pass. There was a storm and we didn’t see the beast until it was too late.”
“How did you escape?” he asked in awe.
“My companions and I fought the beast and won our lives,” Kira cringed at her slip of the tongue. She hoped the boy hadn’t noticed her use of the plural.
“But—”
“You’d better hurry, or you’ll miss your morning meal,” she leaned back and shut her eyes. He was just a young boy, thirsty for adventure, but Kira was tired and she didn’t want to relive her battle with the troll.
There was silence for a moment, then the rustle of straw followed by the click of a latch as Harl left the stable.
Kira waited until he was gone before getting up. She gave Trad another pat, then stretched the knots from her muscles. Cool morning air had seeped into the stable and she stamped her feet to bring life back into them. She rubbed at her arms to shake off the chill and began cleaning up from the long night’s vigil. She’d just finished dumping the last of the herbal infusion and was returning from the midden heap when Harl returned carrying a steaming mug and a plate of food. Her stomach rumbled at the sight.
“Brilissa sent this for you.”
“That’s very kind of her,” Kira said, her mouth watering. She paused for a moment, wondering if the boy was telling her the truth. She wouldn’t want to deprive him of his breakfast. “Harl, are you sure the cook sent this for me?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, quickly. “She said to ask you to come to the kitchen after you’ve eaten and rested. That is, if you would. She was curious about the herbs you used to mend your horse. When I first asked for them, she thought you were trying to make some kind of soup.” He grinned at her.
Kira took the food from him. The plate was filled with thick slices of dark bread and wide strips of roasted pork. The food’s heady aroma filled her nostrils and Kira wondered if the meat was from the animal she’d brought to the hold the day before. “Thank you, Harl,” she said. “Please, thank Brilissa for me, and tell her I’ll be happy to speak with her.” She sat down on the crate, balancing the plate on her knees. The mug was filled with tea and cream and the rising steam carried the scent of aromatic spices. She wrapped her fingers around the warm mug and blew across the top before taking a sip. Hot creamy liquid filled her mouth, and rolled down her throat. Its warmth spread through her.
As she ate, Harl worked in the stable, turning out the old bedding and replacing it with fresh dry straw, and filling feed bins. The rustle of hay and the rattle of grain brought back her days on her parents’ farm. She hadn’t been much younger than Harl when the raiders had come burning their way across the land. She remembered the smoke and the fear in her mother’s eyes when she took Kira by the hand, running with her into the woods. She’d hidden Kira in the cleft of a hollow tree. The opening had been wide enough for Kira, but her mother had been unable to squeeze through the crevice. Kira clenched her eyes shut and forced away the rest of that painful memory.
She finished eating and stood up, swaying with exhaustion. She set the mug and plate down on the crate and, after swathing Trad’s leg once more, lay down in the straw and sank into a deep sleep.
* * *
Late morning sunlight streamed in through the door, casting a golden haze into the building. Kira sat up, disoriented. The memory of the past day and night came back to her and she jumped to her feet. Trad chewed contentedly on a mouthful of fresh hay. The feed bin inside his stall held a
Similar Books
