Page 15 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
“I will.” He watched her with interest, never having seen a woman eat with such enthusiasm and vigor before. Not that he would have, as he’d not come across many starving before. He took good care of his people, made sure that they’d all eaten before he filled his own plate.
“Ye’re not as beastly as ye would have me believe.” She glanced up at him, her brow raised. “Ye know?”
Beiste grunted. “And ye’re not as much of a stubborn, spoiled brat as I would have thought.”
She shrugged as if she’d heard that before and went back to shoveling food into her mouth, speaking around mouthfuls. “My father thought highly of yours. And of ye.”
“I regret that I didna know him well.” And he meant that honestly.
“Not as a man, nay.” She slurped some wine, then reached for a napkin to wipe her hands and face.
“What do ye mean by that? Not as a man?”
“Ye knew him as a lad. He was…” Her gaze shifted away from him and she chewed her lip before continuing. “…Waylaid here at Dunstaffnage for a number of years.” She tore at a hunk of bread. “Ye might have been about ten when he left.”
“What is your father’s name?”
“Padrig.”
Beiste searched his memory, thinking back to when he was a boy and all the men who’d been here. There was one man, but it couldn’t have been her father. The man was called simply, Irish. He’d been a fine warrior and imprisoned at the castle, let out to help with training or when the castle was attacked. But always put away at night. ’Twas a strange arrangement and the man didn’t seem bothered by it at all.
But this Irishman couldn’t be her father. A prisoner. Her father was a lord, having been given lands and a castle by his own father. He’d not have done such a great thing for a prisoner, even if the prisoner had saved his life. He would have simply given him his freedom and nothing more.
“Please go,” she pleaded. “Tell my brother he is the new Irish. He will know what it means and he will go with ye willingly.”
Beiste nodded, feeling the blood pool from his face down to his feet.
