Tension and anger was thick in the air as Ralston arose, took his food and left.
The opposite bench creaked as Holme sat down. "Eat up, Kristina. We're leaving soon."
The disgust and nausea returned, taking her appetite. But she knew she had to eat and maintain her strength. If she grew weak, she wouldn't be able to defend herself.
Ignoring the knave as best she could, she inched her fingers close to the trencher again and found the chunk of bread. It smelled fresh-baked. She picked it up, tore off a bite and pushed it into her mouth. Mayhap it would soothe her roiling stomach.
"Would you like for me to feed you, lass?" Holme snickered.
"Nay. I'm perfectly capable of eating." Even so, she hated when people watched her. Carefully moving her hands, she located a small piece of cheese and put it into her mouth. If it hadn't been such a long time since she'd eaten, she would refuse now. She was famished and didn't know when they would stop to eat again.
Apparently Holme was eating stew, and the scarfing sounds he made reminded her of a pig in a trough.
Trying to put him from her mind, she picked up a sliver of the roasted venison. It was still warm and smelled delicious. She placed it in her mouth and chewed, finding it tender, smoky and flavored with herbs and spices. She savored the tasty morsel.
"Eating like a wee bird, are you, lass?"
Why couldn't the boar mind his own business?
"'Tis too bad you lost your great beauty when your face was cut," he said. "Not so proud and haughty now, are you?" He chuckled with a mouth full of food while he chewed. For the first time, she was glad she couldn't see him. No doubt he looked as disgusting as he sounded.
She had never been haughty; she'd simply refused his advances. Paying him no heed, she drank the ale and ate as quickly as she could, focusing on her own survival and trying to figure out a way to help Anna, rather than become the bait to her capture.
A quarter hour later, Blackburn announced that it was time to travel. Holme left the table and she couldn't tell where he'd gone until she heard him murmuring low to Blackburn. The words were unclear, but a moment later he returned, his boots thudding—she was starting to recognize the distinct sound of them. He grasped her arm and pulled her up.
"The chief has put me in charge of you now, Kristina."
Saints! She suspected her life was about to get even more difficult. Besides that, what had given him the impression he could call her by her given name? They were certainly not friends.
Clamping her teeth together to keep her anger in, she allowed him to lead her from the tavern. She didn't know where Ralston was, but she prayed he was nearby, keeping an eye on Holme.
"Wait," Blackburn said when they were near the horses. "Kristina, I saw what you did in there. Trying to gain help from Lady Graham. If you attempt to talk to anyone else, you'll regret it. Once I have Anna back—and I will have her back—I'll beat her senseless and make you listen. Do you understand me? Anything you do to escape me will only cause your sister more pain."
Kristina felt the blood drain from her face. Ice water flooded her veins. She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. Blackburn knew well how to control her, for she would do anything to keep her sister safe.
