“You are the most skilled warrior here,” Torin said, smiling doubtfully. She was a slight wisp of a woman. How could she save a warrior like Adams? But he remembered how she’d practiced with him. If she’d had another instant, she could have cut Torin’s throat.
“What does skill matter when you are smashed in the head with the hilt of a sword and knocked out? I owe her much and, besides, she reminds me of my sister.” Adams explained with a shrug, as if it meant little to him. The pain in his eyes said otherwise. “I have not seen her in six years.”
How long had it been since Torin had seen his brothers? Twenty-two years. Were they dead? They had to be dead. The English had burned down their cottage. Had they taken his brothers with them or let them die in the flames? It didn’t matter. Chances were, they had died later.
But he hadn’t.
“Bennett will not touch her,” Torin assured him, blinking back to the present. “He is too afraid of losing the reivers’ support, and I hope to remind him how much he needs it. I also have made him a bit frightened of my sword.”
Adams eyed him curiously. “You would protect her from him?”
“Aye,” Torin told him, preparing to fight once again, “would you not?”
“Aye.”
They practiced a little more, with less talking, until Sir John appeared and informed Torin that the warden wanted to see him in his private solar.
On the way back to the keep, Torin thought about Rob Adams. He wasn’t like the other soldiers. He was clever and experienced, and he clearly practiced every day, for he fought well against Torin. He cared about Braya, which was likely why she thought he was a friend to her father, though Adams hadn’t denied that he was.
He would make it a point to see Adams later and finish their conversation.
But presently, he had to find the solar.
Thankfully, he had a good sense of direction, a result of his years spent living in the forest, and from the many castles he’d lived in since Till.
He knocked on the heavy wood and wrought iron door on the second landing and was called to enter.
“Ah, Gray,” Bennett said, barely looking up from a table where he was inspecting an unrolled map. “You have finally returned from your outing with Miss Hetherington. How was it?”
“Informative,” Torin told him, looking around as he stepped inside.
Bennett wanted Braya. Though the thought of it fired up his insides, Torin had to keep it in mind when dealing with him. If Torin were seen as a competitor for her affections, he would be tossed out on his arse.
“Oh?” Bennett looked up. “How so?”
Let him think Torin was interested in her only for information. It would make Torin useful to the warden.
“Rowley Hetherington was insulted by his treatment here yesterday. That, coupled with five of his family members dying at our hands, four of them at mine, has tempted him to consider going to war with Carlisle. I’m responsible for my part in this. Hetherington wants an apology. He will get one. Rob Adams has agreed also. He may expect something from you as well.”
“Me?” Bennett scowled.
“You threw him and his children out on their arses. You know him better than I. Do you think he is the kind of man who will let that sort of thing go?”
Bennett’s scowl deepened and he looked away. “No. But I will not apologize to him.”
Oh, hell, what was he about to do? He wasn’t here for peace. He was the Shadow, the war-bringer. But it wasn’t time yet. He had time to settle in and plan the attack. The king wouldn’t appreciate having a thousand reivers waiting when he got here. There was no other choice. For now, peace had to be maintained.
“Nor should you,” Torin finally said. “Do something better.”
“Like?”
“Invite some of them here for drinks, perhaps some music. Make them feel valued if you want to save whatever is between you.”
“I do not think ’tis necessary,” Bennett complained. “His anger will fizzle to nothing soon enough.”
Torin shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I think I speak for Adams as well when I say we love a good fight. But Miss Hetherington informs me that her father can gather a thousand men and, from what I have seen of your garrison, this castle would not last a day against a thousand reivers. And then there are the Scots. I did not wish to alarm Miss Hetherington this morning, but the reason I came here was because I had heard the Scots might attack Carlisle this winter.”
Bennett walked around his table. The look of concern already on his face grew deeper. “Where did you hear this? How reliable was the source?”
