Chapter 8

Gair was not impressed with the disaster the maid had sent him into. The expression on her face when he asked for a different room to sleep in should have been a good indication that there was nothing suitable.

The bed stank so badly he could smell it from the hall! The stones under the window were growing moss and the dust over everything looked like a thin coat of snow with footprints around the rim to each wall torch and to the bed where the linens had been dropped. She hadn’t even made the bed up. He stood in the doorway, staring at the space and not at all sure what to do. He should have checked out the sleeping arrangements this afternoon rather than going to meet the clansmen.

Now there was no time to fill himself a new mattress, no time to order the room scrubbed clean, no time to prepare a pallet in the hall, and no time to make himself a camp in the bush. He had searched the keep but found no staff except the cook who had just sneered at him and insisted there were no w