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There came a slight knock at the door. Niven poked his head inside. “My laird, yer hound is causin’ trouble in the great hall.”
“What?” He turned on his heel. “Now what did Cerberus do?”
“He stole a chicken from the kitchen and is runnin’ around the great hall with it in his mouth.”
“Let him eat it, I dinna care,” said Alastair with a wave of his hand.
“Ye dinna understand, my laird. The chicken is still alive and squawkin’ like the devil. The hound keeps droppin’ it at the feet of all the lassies and is scarin’ the bairns every time he picks it up and throws it in the air.”
“God’s eyes, I am goin’ to strangle that hound.” Alastair stormed toward the door.
“Nay, let me take care of it,” said Fia, quickly putting on her shoes and running toward the door. “Our dogs used to steal chickens back home as well. I ken how to stop it.” She quickly left the room.
Alastair watchedFia hurrying down the corridor, liking the fact she stepped in to handle problems, almost as if she were Lady of the castle.
“I like havin’ her around,” said Niven, smiling like a fool.
“Dinna get used to it. Because as soon as I contact Clan Grant, she is goin’ to be gone and my faither returned.”
“Are ye sure ye want to do that?” asked Niven.
“I have no other choice. Niven, clean up this room and have my pallet repaired. That bluidy hound did a number in here.”
“Aye,” said Niven, walking to the other side of the room, starting to pick up a few things. “It also looks like Cerberus chewed up yer travel bag.” He stared at the bag on the floor.
“Och, no’ the travel bag,” said Alastair, hurrying across the room. “Fia’s crown is in there. I had hoped to use that as part of the trade. I hope it isna ruined.”
“I dinna see a crown.” Niven picked up the mangled bag and peered inside.
“What do ye mean?” Alastair snatched the bag from Niven. “I ken the hellhound eats everythin’, but I highly doubt he could have devoured a jeweled crown.” Alastair dug through the bag, realizing that what Niven said was true. The crown was missing.
“Where do ye think it is?” asked Niven, looking around the floor. “Mayhap it fell out and is in the rushes.”
Remembering how Fia had clutched the bag and not wanted him to touch it made Alastair suspicious. He pulled out a half-eaten round of bread as well as a metal tankard that he recognized as one from the Iron Eagle. “Fia,” he growled, throwing the drinking vessel down.
Niven laughed. “My laird, I am sure the girl didna eat the crown. Cerberus might have taken it and buried it somewhere. Perhaps I should check outside in the garden.”
“Dinna bother.” He dropped the bag in disgust, his hands balling into fists. It all made sense now in some crazy way. Fia wanted to be alone with Lorraine. And when he followed her outside of the tavern, Lorraine was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t sure why she did it but he knew now that Fia had given the crown to Lorraine and replaced it with a dirty tankard and an old trencher to deceive him. “I’m goin’ to wring her neck,” he spat, hopping on one foot as he donned his boots.
“Who?” asked Niven.
“Fia.”
“Why? I dinna understand. Do ye think perhaps Brohain or Rhodric stole the crown?” Niven picked up the bag and inspected the inside again. “After all, they had their eye on it since the first time we met Fia in the woods. Plus, ye said yerself that ye couldna trust them.”
“Nay, I dinna think they took it at all. I think our angelic wee prisoner is no’ as innocent as she wants us to believe.” He strapped on his weapon belt. Feeling his blood boiling, he reached for his sword.
“Ye think Fia stole her own crown?”
“She gave it away, ye fool. And now I have less leverage for the return of my faither.”
“Are ye goin’ to ask her what she did with it?”
“I am goin’ to get the truth if I have to shake it out of her to do it. The lyin’ wench is keepin’ things from me. I need answers.” He walked back to the bed and scooped up the heart pin and slipped it into the pouch attached to his belt.
“Why would she do somethin’ like that?” asked Niven, scratching his head. “I dinna understand.”
“I’ll make her tell me.” Alastair stormed toward the door.
