She had him sit at a table near the hearth and ordered food and drink brought to the table, and he was glad that she joined him, sliding onto the bench across from him.
“I’ll finish the other roofs after I’m done eating.”
“You’ve done quite a bit today. The others can wait until tomorrow… unless you plan to take your leave tomorrow,” she said, a bit anxiously.
Her green eyes shined with anticipation and she gave a quick nibble to her bottom lip. And he found his manhood reminding him how long, far too long, he had been celibate. He was glad when a servant sat a pitcher of ale on the table and filled a tankard for him.
“I’ll be here at least another day or so,” he said, then took a generous swig of ale.
“Where will you go from here?”
He thought a moment. He should continue his search for the person who had rained hell down upon him, but with his father supposedly dying and demanding his return home, he wasn’t sure where he’d go next.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“You need a home,” Sorrell said as if she decided for him.
Home.
He had had a home, a good, loving home, or so he had thought.
“But I forgot, you don’t like people. You prefer solitude so a home might not be good for you, too much talk and laughter. Perhaps the monastic life would fit you better. There is a friary not far from here.”
He laughed, as he speared a piece of meat, with a knife, from the platter on the table in front of him. “The celibate life is not for me.”
“Then you wish a wife someday?”
“You ask far too many questions.”
“That’s right. You prefer to be alone.” Sorrell stood. “I will leave you to eat in solitude.”
He didn’t want that. He wanted her to stay. He enjoyed talking with her and that thought troubled him. Sorrell wasn’t the type of woman to warm his bed for a day or two, the only kind he’d been interested in these past two years. She was to be wed to a man chosen for her and he was to take his leave soon, matters of his own to see to.
“That would be good,” he said.
“Sorrell, is that you I hear?”
She turned to see Snow making her way through the Great Hall. Instinct had her ready to go guide her sister through the maze of tables, but recalling Willow’s words of how they needed to help their sister become more independent, stopped her.
“Here, Snow, I’m where we usually sit,” Sorrell called out.
Snow smiled and stretched her hands out to her sides as she felt her way past the tables, bumping into one now and again, but her smile remained bright as she did.
Sorrell couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps to Snow when she drew near and reaching for her hand.
“Someone is with you,” Snow said.
“How do you know?” Sorrell asked surprised.
“His scent. He smells of,” —Snow sniffed the air— “thatch, I think.”
“That’s me,” John said, having gotten to his feet.
Snow turned in the direction of his voice, seeing an overpowering shadow. “You are huge. Oh, you must be the giant Sorrell told us about.”
“I am, though it is easy to be a giant when standing next to Sorrell,” John said.
Snow chuckled. “And me as well since Sorrell and I get our petite size from our mother, whereas Willow has some height over us thanks to our da. What parent do you favor?”
“My mum,” John said, though offered no more on it.
“I was just about to take my leave, since he likes to eat alone,” Sorrell said.
“Nonsense, no one likes to eat alone,” Snow said, and reaching out to feel for the edge of the table made her way onto the bench. “You don’t mind do you,” —she paused a moment— “John, I believe Sorrell said your name was John, though I would have thought it Giant since she refers often to you that way.”
“Giant suits him,” Sorrell said in her defense of her description of him as she slid in beside her sister to sit.
“If names were to truly match us, Sorrell, then you would be called Chatty—no wait—Dictator.” Snow chuckled.
Sorrell joined in with a laugh. “Aye, Dictator, that’s me.”
“And what name would suit you, Snow?’ John asked.
“Angelic,” Sorrell said and quickly changed her mind, “no… Determined.”
“Aye, Determined,” Snow agreed and reached out to squeeze Sorrell’s hand, pleased her sister thought that of her.
“What of Willow?”
Sorrell and Snow both scrunched their brows.
“Sensible,” they both said at once and laughed.
John had forgotten what it was like to have a loving family and he had forgotten how much he missed having one. Or was it that the memories were just too painful to recall? He had had no siblings, but he had had a good friend, Hugh, who had become more like a brother to him. They had been inseparable. John’s parents’ love had provided a solid family bond. Or so he had thought. And the clan had also been his family, a clan he had been trained to lead one day. That was why it had been so heartbreaking when his da had turned against him.