Keiron dropped from the saddle and shoved the reins in Isla’s hands. “Take it for water.”
Isla obeyed. She guided the horse to the spring, slipped off the bridle and let it drink. Falling to her knees, she bent next to the animal and drank. The water quenched her thirst but did nothing to curtail her craving for food. She had eaten her last full ration with her das three days beforehand. Besides the bread the dwarf had given her the previous day, she had received only a cup of beans. Now with the sun high overhead, the pains in her stomach became louder. The hollows beneath her ribs ached.
The dwarf had tried to give her more food, but Keiron intercepted each attempt. Isla believed he wanted to starve her to death. He’d be wise to keep her alive if he sought a ransom for her return. But why would he seek money from her das? A castle guard’s wages couldn’t even buy her a pony.
Isla pushed herself from the water and ran the back of her hand across her mouth. Her fingers went through her short hair. It felt strange. Her thoughts drifted to the piles of brown strands at the campsite they had left yesterday. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and hoped her das had found the page tucked within the mounds. Yes, he did. She had to keep telling herself this. Moisture pooled behind her eyelids, but she forced it to stop. If Keiron saw, he’d hit her again. She had to be strong like her das. She had to stay calm and be wise like Sandy. But to be strong and wise, she had to have food.
Isla lay against the grassy bank. It’d be time to leave soon. The men stopped long enough to rest the horses and eat. They seemed in a hurry to reach their destination, but hadn’t said a word about it.
Hearing movement beside her, Isla looked up to see the dwarf lead his horse to the spring. Tam—as he called himself—appeared gruff, but she sensed something different about him. At first she thought his resemblance to her das made him stand out from the other two, but in many ways, he was unlike her das. His shaggy beard covered half his face, and his dark brown hair hung to his shoulders. His untidy manner didn’t compare to the grunginess of the hauflin. He stunk like a horse which rolled in pig manure and slept in it until the warming season ended; Tam had but a mild odour.
Isla watched him remove the bridle from the horse’s head to allow it to drink. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a biscuit. Isla stared at the food. She had tasted many types of biscuits in her life, but even the worse tasting ones filled an empty stomach. Her mouth watered. She rubbed the top of her legs and realised her hands trembled; they craved to hold the food.
To her surprise, Tam tossed the biscuit on her lap. She quickly turned to see the hauflin. He dug into a saddle pack and didn’t notice the offering of food. Looking back at Tam, she found him staring off into the forest, eating his own biscuit. Isla cradled the food in her hand. A pang of fear stirred in her stomach. If she ate it, would Keiron beat her? If she didn’t eat it, she’d surely die of starvation.
With a sly glance, she looked again at the hauflin. His search in the saddle bag kept him busy. She put the biscuit between her teeth and took a large bite. The dough rolled around in her mouth as if chocolate on raisins. She’d never tasted a sweeter biscuit. Guarding her mouth, she took another bite. Sensing Tam’s movement, she looked up to find him watching her. She shoved the last bit into her mouth and chewed, savouring the taste. Crumbs stuck in her teeth. She extracted every last one and enjoyed them one more time as she rolled them over her tongue.
“Isla!”
She jumped to her feet. Had he seen her? She whirled around and stared at the hauflin.
“Get over here!”
She caught her breath. If she didn’t go, he’d beat her. It was his only method of communication. Her arms, legs and backside ached from the bruises. Although she felt dizzy, she forced her feet to move towards him. She must have risen too fast because her head swooned, and she collapsed to the ground. She tried to stand up, but the dizziness kept her on unsteady knees.
“Get up!” said Keiron. He clenched his fist and shook it at her. “Stop arsin’ around.”
Isla pushed herself to her feet but failed to rise. Her arms buckled and she fell in the bushes. She shivered though the hot sun beat down upon her face. When she looked up, she saw Tam hovering over her.
“Are you satisfied, Keiron? Three days with no food and scarcely enough water has taken its toll. What good is she to you now?” Tam frowned at the hauflin.
Keiron strode to Isla, grabbed her by the front of the vest and jerked her to her feet. “If yew fall agin, I’ll beat the sense out of yew.”
When he released her, Isla fell backwards, but she didn’t hit the ground. She looked up to see Tam supporting her from behind.
“Let her go.” Meanness filled Keiron’s voice.
“So you can beat her again?” Tam shook his head. “A man cares more for his dog than you care about your daughter.”
Isla’s eyes flashed, and she felt a rush of energy. “He’s not my das! My das is coming for me.” She glared at the hauflin. “And when he finds me, he’ll kill you!”
“Keiron, you told me you were her dad.” Tam tightened his grip on Isla. “But it makes sense now. No man in his right mind would treat his child as you have.”
“I’m her das! Not that dwarf who stole her from me! She’s my blood!”
Tam looked at Isla. “Your das is dwarf?”
Isla nodded. “He’s an honourable man. Nothing like this scoundrel!”
Keiron punched her in the face. If not for Tam holding her, she’d have crumbled to the ground. Keiron grabbed her by the vest and jerked her from the dwarf’s arms. “If that honourable man ever catches up with me, yew’ll see what I do with thieves.” He threw her back at Tam. “Since yew’ve taken a likin’ to her, yew tend her.” He smirked, “But if yew use her for yer pleasure, I want compensation.”
Tam watched him walk away. The scowl etched on his face frightened Isla. How would he use her? Why did Keiron claim to be her das? Her das—her blood das—died long ago. At least Bronwyn thought so. Tam lifted her into his arms and carried her to his pack. She watched him dig inside and pull out an apple and a chunk of green cheese.
“Eat.” He shoved the food in her hands. He rose and grimaced at her.
Isla didn’t see a hint of satisfaction from winning the argument with Keiron. But then again, perhaps he didn’t consider this a victory. Now he had a burden and possibly a brewing conflict with the hauflin. She watched Tam gather his horse and bridle it. Before she finished the last bite of green cheese, he pulled her into the saddle behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his back. She felt his large muscles through the dark green material of his shirt. She closed her eyes and imagined him to be her das, strong and honourable. Whilst Tam may not consider it a triumph, Isla felt safer in his saddle than with the one claiming to be her das.