Bloody hell. Joshua, as loyal as he was, loved to twist whatever knife was sticking into his older brother. Their rivalry had started when they were lads, wrestling, sparring, and swimming races in the loch. The Horseman of War designation fit him perfectly. Cain breathed through the instant urge to punch him, and Joshua slid his hand off, walking back around to his spot at the table.

Cain held the knight, which from the outside looked regal and commanding as usual. It was the inside that was lacking. Damnation. He wasn’t hollow inside, was he? What the bloody hell did that even mean?

Merida planted her hands on her hips. “She is angry as a nest of hornets, but that does not mean she should starve herself. I even told her that the Midsummer Fire Festival was coming up in a few days, and she should come to the kitchens to see the tarts being prepared, but she ignored me. Mark my words, we will not see her down here if she is left to her own choices. She will waste away up in that room until ye drag her out.”

“If ye drag her anywhere,” Joshua said, “ye best disarm her first. She obviously has some type of knife to hollow out the knight.” He looked sideways at Cain. “Just looking out for ye.”

It had been only three days since the oath ceremony, but Ella had not come down at all. She had a few rolls, dried fish, and wild raspberries from the last meal she took without a word that first night of self-exile, but surely it had given out by now. How long did she plan to stay locked away in the tower room?

“Stop taking her up any drink,” Joshua said, pointing at the stairs with a drumstick. “Once she passes out from lack of liquid, ye can bring her down and drip ale into her mouth until she revives.”

His brother was an arse and obviously trying to annoy him. Cain frowned, his whole mood heavy and lethargic as if he’d been waiting for a siege for three days. He bent his thumb over his fingers one by one, cracking two of them. His move had been to refuse to bring food up to her. Her move was to refuse to come down for food. What would his move be?

He rolled the hollowed-out knight between his hands. “A game,” he murmured.

“I do not think she will be up for a game if she is weak from lack of drink,” Joshua said, grinning.

An absolute arse.

Cain rose, grabbing two tarts that sat in a basket on the table and strode toward the steps. He took them rapidly. What if she had already collapsed from hunger? He couldn’t go half a day without food before his stomach felt as if it were eating itself from the inside out.