Aye, this could all be a trap. The woman might be aiming to poison him. But he would not be long for this world without food and drink inside him regardless.
Besides, Callum thought it more likely that all this was a product of some fevered dream. His mind may be here, sipping ale in a cosy chamber, but his body was most likely laying in some forest ditch, or else being set upon by wolves.
He refilled the cup and drank again, before remembering his manners.
“Thank you.”
The woman nodded, busy ladling out a delicious looking stew. “Sit,” she instructed. “Eat this and then tell me if I am right.”
He accepted the warm bowl and spooned up juicy meat before anyone could take it away from him. Flavour filled his mouth and he half closed his eyes, barely silencing a moan of pleasure. He swallowed another spoonful before wiping his lips with the back of his hand and raising his eyes to the woman.
She was small and wizened, mayhap with age. Her hair was long and grey, pinned loosely at the back of her head. She worea plain woollen dress, ornamented with neither broaches nor ribbons. But her green eyes were bright as they followed his every move.
He cleared his throat “I should ask your name, dear lady, and thank you again for your kindness.”
She shook her head. “Me first.” She took a sharp intake of breath. “YouareCallum, aren’t you? Son of Elizabeth?”
It was so long since Callum had been called the son of anyone but Rory Baine that it took him several seconds to answer. “My mother’s name was Elizabeth, aye.”
She nodded, her eyes gleaming like a bird’s. “Lady Elizabeth. I knew it, as soon as I saw you properly.”
He lowered his spoon, his hunger momentarily forgotten. “You knew my mother?”
She nodded again. “And you too, Callum Baine, though you were still in short trousers when I left your mother’s service.” She sat up straighter on the settle. “Do you remember Alys, your mother’s maid?”
“Alys.” He rolled the name around in his mouth. Itdidsound familiar. He had a sense of small kindnesses, singing songs, honey cakes. “You served my mother at Egremont House?”
She looked pleased. “Indeed I did. And saddened I was to learn of her passing, God rest her soul.” She made the sign of the cross over her chest and clasped her hands together as if in prayer.
Callum gave a small nod of thanks. “Alys,” he said again, hoping to strengthen the memories. “And this is your home?”
“A small home but a happy one.” She took a neat spoonful of soup.
“And this is your hound?” He nodded towards the dog.
Alys tightened her lips. “I’m sorry if Gil frightened you. But these are troubled lands and troubled times we are living in. Iam an old woman living alone and must take whatever the good Lord provides me for my protection.”
Callum finished the last of his stew. “And the lord gave you Gil?”
“When he was but a pup.” Alys stroked the dog’s head. “Gil keeps intruders away. When he howled, I knew someone was approaching. I’m only sorry I didn’t recognise you straight away.”
Callum’s hand gravitated to the new lump on his head. “’Twas not your dog that inflicted harm on me,” he said, wincing a little. “Did you see the man that struck me?”
Alys hid her smile. “’Twas no man, Callum. I swung the pan myself.” She nodded towards the cooking pot, which had made the meal he had just eaten.
“You hit me?” His eyebrows shot up with such force that a new wave of dizziness came over him.
“We must err on the side of caution, Gil and I.” Alys placed her spoon inside her bowl. “But as soon as I had a good look at your face, I saw the young boy who would hide behind his mother’s skirts and steal honey cakes when he thought no one was looking.” She smiled fondly. “So I brought you here to recover.”
Callum took a breath. It was something of a relief to discover he was not obliged to hide away from any new knight or warrior.
“You brought me all the way in here, from all the way out there?” He indicated the shuttered window, through which narrow glimpses of the farm track could be seen.
Alys inclined her head. “I tend my own garden and manage my own firewood. I am stronger than I look. Though I am afraid your cloak is torn in many places and near good for nothing by now. I used it as a stretcher to drag you on.”
Callum opened his mouth to say it was nothing, but then shut it again with the words unsaid. He had grown up with cloaksaplenty, but right now he had naught but the clothes on his back and the loss of his good cloak would be keenly felt.
Still, without food and drink, perchance he would not have lived through many more days. With or without his good cloak.
