“Carrot soup fer our midday meal, Sister,” Mac informed her when she stepped into the camp.
“’Tis all we had left,” Padrig defended while fixing her a bowl.
“Well then, we are blessed to have you to prepare it.”
He smiled, proving her earlier point to the captain. Padrig was a gentle giant. Beneath all his hair, he was a darker, bigger version of Will. The captain said he did not smile often. Silene didn’t agree. Padrig was shy, but he had no shortage of smiles.
“The captain ought to do all the buyin’ and tradin’,” she heard Morgann telling the others. “We will likely get double.”
“That will take all day,” Mac said, shaking his head.
“Why will you get double if the captain does the business?” she asked, accepting Padrig’s bowl.
“The lasses.”
“Will!” The captain stopped him from saying anything more.
She turned and laughed at the glowering leader as he took his seat beside her on a log. “What about the lasses?”
“’Tis nothin’,” he muttered. “Let us eat and head oot.”
She looked around at the others. They all had their bowls in their hands. “None of you have eaten yet?”
“We waited fer ye,” the captain said, taking his bowl.
How was she supposed to resist smiling at him? “That is very thoughtful of all of you.” She offered them her best smile after she prayed over their meal. The men prayed with her.
Her heart swelled as she tasted the soup.
As she suspected, it was delicious, seasoned with an array of spices and something sweet…perhaps a dollop of honey.
When they set out a little while later, Silene noticed that she and the captain rode apart with the men between them, but they kept gravitating back to each other. Each time they did, they looked equally puzzled at how they had gotten there. He stayed close when they crossed the border. No one tried to stop or rob them.
“I think our horses are friends.” She chuckled, sounding more nervous than amused.
He agreed and then glared at Will on the other side of him when Will muttered something under his breath.
Why were his men teasing him about her? She moved her horse further away from him and met Morgann’s solemn stare.
“The captain is verra protective of ye,” Morgann remarked, drawing his horse nearer.
“’Tis his duty,” she reminded the Highlander.
“Aye,” he agreed.
“Tell me about you, Morgann. How did you come to ride with the captain at so young an age?”
“The steward fell into a ragin’ river and I jumped in and saved him.”
She smiled and her eyes opened wider. “That is something to be proud of!”
He shrugged and looked more somber than ever, but he would say nothing more.
“You can speak to me about anything, Morgann,” she assured him. “We are friends, aye?”
He smiled and nodded but said nothing more about his past.
They chitchatted for a little while longer and then came to the large market town of Hamsertown. Silene marveled at the wood and stone houses built around the market. Trees divided stone to break through the ground and spread their branches. Vendors filled the center of the market. She gaped at the sight of colorful banners whipping in the wind about their tents. Each bore a likeness of their wares. Candles, torches, handheld bags made of leather and felt, strings of different colored wool and thread, just to name a few.