Mad for the Plaid by Karen Hawkins

Author:Karen Hawkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

Chapter 14

The object sat on the palm of Ailsa’s hand, as smooth and round as a rock. She took a cautious sniff, but could find no trace of the yeasty scent she associated with bread.

“Ow!” Gregor glared at his roll while he gingerly rubbed his tooth. “Whatever you do, don’t bite into it.”

Rurik chuckled. “Silly man. You eat it like this.” He flattened a roll into a disc, and then tore it in half, and then in half again. Once he had a piece that would fit in his mouth, he popped it in, and took a swig from his flask.

“Ah. You soften it with the water, eh?” Gregor picked up his flask.

“This is vodka. It will soften the bread. It will also soften dried beans, leather, and perhaps even your brain, if you wish it.”

MacKean, who was nearby leaning against a tree, his rifle loosely clasped in his arms, snorted a laugh.

Gregor flushed, but managed a weak laugh as well.

It was early evening and the sky burned a bright red, clouds scattering as if afraid. Ailsa shivered and tugged her cloak closer. “The weather is turning.”

“Aye. It will rain come morning.” MacKean finished his bread and then opened a pouch and handed out what looked like pieces of bark.

Gregor sniffed his.

“Dried rabbit,” Ailsa told him. She sat beside him, cross-legged. She was still sore from traveling, but not as much as she had been.

“Vodka will soften that, too,” Rurik said, obviously amused when Gregor reached for a flask.

Nik looked up from the map he was studying. “Do not let Rurik tease you. Vodka will soften the bread, but the rabbit needs no such help.”

Ailsa was glad to hear that vodka would not be necessary for her to digest their simple dinner. The one time she’d taken a few swallows of that potent stuff, it had given her the kind of brazen courage that usually led to massive errors in judgment. She was certain she made enough of those without the help of vodka.

She tore her bread as she’d seen Rurik do, and managed to eat a small piece. The rabbit fared better, for it was indeed more tender than the bread, and tastier, too.

The wind rustled overhead, and they all instantly raised their gazes to the sky, Gregor and MacKean reaching for their weapons.

Ailsa managed a dry chuckle. “We’re a bit jumpy, we are. But we should nae be, for Stewart is on watch and he has sharp eyes.”

Nik settled back on his heels and nodded, though his gaze never stopped moving around the forest. “It has been a long day.”

“Too long,” Gregor agreed fervently.

MacKean relaxed visibly, pausing to swallow a piece of bread. “The rain will slow us.”

“Nae as much as snow,” Ailsa said. “Can we still reach Greer’s camp tomorrow?”

“Perhaps,” MacKean said. “If we travel fast enough.”

Nik folded the map. “We must reach it. We will be safer out of these woods.”

No one disagreed. After their brush with the brigands, they’d traveled as quickly as they could, barely stopping to eat or rest.

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