“I sat up and rubbed my eyes,” he continued in a soulless voice. “Someone was there in the darkness and yanked me from my bed to the cold rushes. I called out. She screamed again. My heart felt as if it would burst with terror. They brought me to her just in time to see another man shove a long blade into my father’s belly until it came out the other side of him. Then they lit the house on fire. I do not know if they killed my two brothers.”
“Oh, Torin, no!” Braya sank back onto the bench. “I did not mean to…” Her voice trailed off into a cough she produced to stop the sob wanting to escape her lips. “Forgive me.” She reached for his hand and covered it with hers as a rush of tears fell from her eyes. She did not argue with him about whether he was entitled or not, to feel the way he did about certain men. She hadn’t lost her entire family to the Scots. “I did not realize how terrible it must have been for you.”
He looked at her and, for a heartbreaking instant, he didn’t seem to know where he was. As if he were still there, dropped off into his past by her so he could remember again what had happened.
Then his gaze cleared and he looked at his covered, trembling hand and her tears that had fallen around it. “No,” he said in a soft, smoky baritone. “I do not know why I shared such gruesome thoughts with you. ’Tis I who should ask forgiveness.” He slipped his hand free. “You are easy to speak with.”
She smiled. She believed that he didn’t open up to many. She liked that he’d opened up to her.
Thunder cracked across the charcoal sky. Startled, Yda dropped a jug of ale.
Torin rose from the bench. “I need to see to Avalon. She does not like thunder.”
“I will come with you,” Braya said and followed him out of the tavern.
They hadn’t walked more than three steps when the skies opened and poured down on them. Braya didn’t mind. In fact, she loved the rain. It cleansed and nourished. It was cold, though, and she hurried toward Torin when he held open his cloak for her to take refuge under.
They ran together, laughing beneath his hood as they entered the stable. Torin grew serious immediately when he found that Avalon was not where he had left her.
“Has someone taken her?” Braya asked him as they ran back out into the rain.
“No. She must have become frightened and took off.”
He called the horse’s name, once, and then again. His voice, though loud and strong, was drowned out by the wind and more thunder.
He whistled and the sharp sound pierced the wind.
Braya’s heart began to speed up as the realization that beautiful Avalon had run away. Would she return?
Torin kept whistling and searching for her until they were both dripping wet.
“Has she done this before?” she asked him while they headed for the trees.
“Once or twice.”
“But she came back,” Braya pointed out, hoping to comfort him. Was he distressed? She couldn’t tell.
“No, I had to find her.”
“Oh.” Braya’s heart drummed hard and fast. They had to find her. “Avalon!” she called out.
They searched for another quarter of an hour, calling out, wiping the rain from their eyes, and searching the forest for her.
“Let us split up,” she finally suggested. He nodded and then caught sight of something over her shoulder. He blinked his large green eyes and Braya couldn’t tell if what fell from his eyes was rain or tears.
He stepped around her and Braya turned to see his massive horse standing within the trees. Her long, dripping wet mane looked more gray than white as it cascaded over her wide, terrified eyes. She trembled and moved deeper into the trees when she saw them.
“Come, lady.” He reached out his hand. “I’m here. You are safe.”
Braya stayed where she was while he moved forward, speaking softly to Avalon. She watched him hold up both hands when the horse reared back her head and bit at the air. Avalon was warning him not to come any closer. He didn’t let her fear stop him but continued to speak to her.
When he reached her, he lifted his hand to her nose. She pushed back and snapped at him. Braya’s heart broke and raced together. Avalon was so afraid she couldn’t recognize him. He didn’t give up and, finally, the horse let him touch her nose with one hand, and then her cheeks with both. She swung her huge head toward him and nuzzled it close to him. He risked his handsome face by pressing it to Avalon’s.
Braya thought about what kind of man he must be to have earned the trust of such an animal. He was patient and, after a little more coaxing, he led her toward Braya.
A man stepping out of the trees between them stopped him. “That’s a nice horse, Brother.” He held up his wet sword. “You will hand it over to me, and the gel—”
He stopped talking when Braya smashed the hilt of a dagger into the back of his head. He folded to the ground, leaving her facing Torin. He smiled and stepped over the thief and continued on.
