Severn still looked puzzled. It wasn't like Zared to care about food. As long as the meat didn't have maggots on it and the weevils in the bread had been baked and weren't still crawling, the Peregrines didn't pay much attention to food.
"I want you to have the best, " Zared said. "To keep up your strength for the fighting."
Severn rumpled her hair. "All right. I'll go up to the hall. You stay here with Smith and sort out the clothes Liana sent. See if there's something in there for you."
"My clothes are more than suitable for a Peregrine." She looked at Severn's tunic of thick black silk. There were gold and silver dragons embroidered along the edge. "We need not all look like peacocks."
Severn gave her a hard look. "Do not disgrace me. Smith, see to my squire." With that, he turned on his heel and left the tent.
Zared turned to look at Tearle. "Once in my life I get to see the world, and I am put in the care of a Howard. Now I shall have to stay with you every minute to see that you do no harm to my brother."
"Every minute?" Tearle smiled, liking the prospect.
Chapter Five
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Zared watched as the Howard man went outside and rummaged through the cart that contained the clothes and weapons he had brought. Her belly growled with hunger, and in the distance she could hear the clash of weapons and the shouts of the crowd as the combatants met one another in the joust. Had Severn fought yet? Who had he fought? Had Colbrand fought yet?
She didn't know because she had been drugged by a Howard and had slept the day away.
Watching the man with his black hair and black clothes, she knew that what was to have been a pleasurable time for her was going to be a nightmare. Do Howards mean to ruin all my life? she thought. Was she to have no time when she was free of them? On her own land she could not ride out alone without being snatched by a Howard. And it looked as though she wouldn't even be allowed to enjoy herself at the tournament.
She watched him pull out a garment of ruby-red velvet, the hem trimmed in gray fox.
He had proposed marriage to her. Marriage between a Howard and a Peregrine. How absurd the idea was. Her brothers would never allow her to live u
nder Oliver Howard's power. Not to mention the fact that the Howards would probably chain her to a wall and starve her.
As she watched the Howard she knew he would not have strength enough to fight his older brother. A marriage to him would mean being a prisoner to his brother. The weak man who had nearly died from a small cut was not man enough to stand up to someone like Oliver Howard.
"This," he said, holding out the dark red tunic to her. Across it was draped a pair of finely knit hose.
"I will—" She started to say that she would not wear anything a Howard gave to her, but then Colbrand went striding by. He was as beautiful as she remembered, perhaps even more beautiful. Again he was wearing white. A white as pure and as clean as a mountain lake. His hair shone in the sunlight. Rays sparkled off his armor. His eyes—
Tearle shoved the tunic into her chest so hard that Zared took a step backward. "Put it on," he growled.
She felt the velvet, looked at the fur. Perhaps Colbrand would like her better in pretty clothes. "I will wear them, but not for you," she snapped at Tearle, turning back into the tent. "Stand here so that I can see where you are," she ordered.
With one eye on her enemy's back she quickly changed into the new clothes. She stretched out her leg, pleased that there were no holes in the hose, no grease stains. There was soft fur about the neck, and she rubbed her cheek against it.
"Are you dressed yet?" Tearle asked impatiently from outside. "Your brother rides against his first opponent."
Zared shoved past him to go outside and ignored the way he looked at her. "Come, I would see my brother. You are to stay near me."
"I will force myself to do so," Tearle said, chuckling.
But Zared never made it to the lists. Not far from the dilapidated Peregrine tent she could see a tent of white sendal, a white banner embroidered with silver leopards flying from the crown. As though she had no control over her feet, she turned toward the tent.
"Your brother—" Tearle said from behind her, but Zared kept walking.
Before the tent sat Colbrand's squire Jamie, ineptly trying to sharpen a sword on a round, pedal-powered whetstone.
"You," Jamie said, looking up at Zared with the hovering black shadow behind her. Jamie had decided he hated the Peregrine boy because he had been the cause of a severe tongue-lashing from Colbrand. "What do you want?" Jamie sneered.
Zared opened her mouth to reply, but then Colbrand came out of the tent. He no longer wore his armor, but his big, muscular body was covered in a short white tunic, his legs encased in pale gray hose. She could only stare at him speechlessly.
Colbrand did not at first see the Peregrine squire. His eyes were on Jamie. "That is not the way to hold the blade," Colbrand said in a tone, as though he'd said it a hundred times. "You have not your mind on the task. I will show you."