Highland Island (Book 6)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Isla!" The sharp command summoned her to the Cook's main table. "I need mushrooms." The terse order was cut off quickly. The basket thrust into Isla's arms scratched at her bare skin, her sleeves rolled up in order to knead the dough. Nobody naysaid Cook, so without a work Isla scurried away before something else could be shoved onto her shoulders. It's not like she did not have a full Keeps worth of bread to knead. But if Cook wanted mushrooms, then mushrooms she would have.

Muttering under her breath, she grabbed a soiled cloth on her way to the door, trying to clean her hands as best she could of the flour and dough which clung to her fair skin. As the warm air washed it's refreshing breath over her as she left through the kitchen door, she felt her heated cheeks from the fires for the bread finally start to cool.

"Isla!" The familiar voice was breathless, as Isla turned towards the walkway which lead to the bailey. Her flustered friend blustering her way forward, a pail of water spilling everywhere, in each hand.

"Well, a hand would be nice, rather than you just staring all wide eyed." The grumpy words were negated by the breathless wheezing.

Isla' spread her hand over her heart in a mocking gesture. "Me not helping a friend in need? How dare you suggest such a thing?" Her laughter was bubbling over before she could finish her sentence.

"Hmm, I notice how you still haven't took one off of me." Gilbarta huffed as she set down, or rather dropped the pails, spilling water in every which direction. "Where do you think you're going woman? Cook will kill you if you sneak off early."

"It's Cook that's sent me out, half way through the bread making, I'll have you know. For mushrooms of all things. Can you imagine? I have no idea what great need there is for them, not when most prep for evening meal is already done. And I will be the one in trouble with the clan if the bread is not done." It was Isla's turn to huff this time. The Cook's temper knew no end and no reason when it came to food. It would not be Isla's place later to remind Cook that she was sent away under orders.

"No!" Isla was shocked at the violence of Gilbarta's outburst. "Nay, I will not allow this." Her friend made a move to snatch the basket from her grasp. "Isla, I will collect the mushrooms, you go back to your job." Easily sidestepping the grasping hands with a laugh, her feet sludging the packed earth, sodden by the water spilt upon it.

"I have no idea about your vehemence for this task, but Cook will not have it, and you know it." Isla was very interested in the sudden helpfulness of her friend. "But why the sudden need to be helpful. Yesterday when I was sent to fetch milk from the grumpiest cow in the herd, because," she pulled herself up in an imitation of Cook in all her glory yesterday, her gruff, gravel voice a poor imitation of the actual thing. "She give the best cream of the bunch, no other will do, and I will know." A wagging finger. "I will know, Isla, you tried to trick me once before and failed."

Gilbarta looked crestfallen. "Aye, I know, I know, Isla. But I know the moment I step inside, my punishment of fetching water will be over and I will be put on your bread duty." The way she made it sound was a fate worse than death. Though the last time Gilbarta had made the bread the clan had nearly revolted. Cook had been miserable for weeks, and her normally cheery disposition was barely tolerable as it was. But the worst of it was Cook would let it be known that Isla had left her post and the clan would end up blaming her.

There really were some days that Isla could regret taking a job in the kitchen. But it was expected, it was needed and beneath it all, she would do her duty to her family and her clan.