“That is very kind, sir. I shall be sure to tell her.”
“Please do.” He gave her a sharp look that Leila could not interpret.
“Do you think it would be possible for my lord to buy the hound?” she asked. “He is much taken with it and if there are too many here…”
The priest smiled. “I think that if it follows you, it will not be missed.”
Leila was pleased to hear as much.
The priest handed her the rest of the loaf of bread. “Take this for the hound. Mind you break it into pieces before you give it to him. He might eat too quickly otherwise.” He picked up the sack of bread.
The hound followed the loaf to Leila, fixing its gaze upon her.
“I thank you, sir,” she said, even as she looked down at the bread. It was hard, at least a day old or maybe two. But the strange matter was its weight. What did they put in their bread to make it so heavy? She glanced up to find the priest’s eyes sparkling.
There was a gap on one side. Leila’s fingers slid into the crevice made on one side of the loaf and touched something cold. The priest’s expression tempted her to look, and she peeked to see the end of a large iron key hidden inside the bread.
The key to the dungeon.
“I shall return directly to my lady and tell her of your thoughtfulness.” Leila bowed again. “And I thank you again, sir, for your kindness to the dog. I will be very sure to feed him slowly.”
He nodded once and turned toward the portal to the hall. A woman’s voice rose from the kitchens and a clatter of pans announced that the day’s work had begun. Anna left the dirty bucket and took both dog and bread back to the chamber, along with a fresh bucket of water. The dog bounded up the stairs and waited every dozen steps for her, licking its chops in anticipation.
If any questioned her haste, she would say her lady was impatient.
*
Duncan was awake when he heard the door to the stables creak. He rolled over in the loft so he could see the crack of light at the portal. To his surprise, the priest slipped through the gap and closed the door behind himself. Duncan did not move but watched with interest. What would the priest seek in the stables? What did he carry? And why did he close the door again?
It seemed unlikely that a priest had a nefarious scheme, but Duncan made few assumptions about the choices of others without evidence.
He waited and watched instead.
Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Duncan saw the priest moving down the line of stalls. He seemed to know the layout of the stables and was able to find his way with only the glimmer of daybreak that shone between the boards.
He also moved toward the horses of their small party, not the baron’s own steeds.
Did he mean to do the beasts ill?
Duncan eased down the stairs of the loft. The priest did not glance up but seemed to be counting the horses. When he reached the destrier of Fergus, he looked around himself. Duncan felt his eyes narrow. The priest peered around the horse, his agitation clearly growing, and Duncan unsheathed his sword.
Duncan cleared his throat as he touched the tip of the blade to the priest’s back. That man jumped and spun to face him, his eyes wide. “Might I be of service?”
The priest gaped at the sword, then lifted the sack he carried. “I have bread, alms for the poor. I had thought you might be glad of it on your journey.”
“We have bread enough,” Duncan said, his suspicion unallayed. “Although I thank you for the kindness.”
The priest straightened. “I think you should take this bread.”
“What of your poor?”
“There are few of them in these days, not because Haynesdale prospers but because there are so few in the village at all. They will not miss it.”
“I think it a foul thing for a guest to cheat his host’s villagers.”
The priest’s eyes flashed and his lips tightened. Duncan was intrigued by this glimpse of his frustration. The other man leaned closer, his gaze boring into Duncan’s. “I advise you, my son, to take the bread.” He bit off each word and Duncan could not account for his manner.
He took the sack cautiously. The bulk in it was about the size of two round loaves, put base to base. The weight of it, though, was all wrong. This could not be bread alone. Duncan frowned but the priest smiled with a strange confidence.
