Chapter 10Supper happened in the smaller private family quarters, not a banquet room or feasting hall. Mounds of turnips and potatoes appeared, along with luscious salmon and a thick barley stew and gorgeous chewy slices of fresh-baked bread and the famous High Crags goat’s milk cheese. A person who did not eat meat could’ve made an entire meal, or several, out of the stew and the vegetables and the bread and cheese; Lorre looked at Gareth, sideways.
“What,” Gareth said, all innocence, “it’s all local specialties, you should try the cider, it’s Granny’s,” and poured him some. Rain danced a jig over the windows, busying itself in streaks of silver.
“I’m seriously tempted,” Lorre said, “to put potatoes on your chair, but it’d be a waste,” and took more. His heart warmed: foolishly fond and
