Torin tried not to give a damn, but that was easier when one killed a man and did not have to face his family. He realized he would never fit in here, just as he had not fit in anywhere else. It had always amused him when these mad desires crept up on him. They meant nothing, just some old remnants of when he was a child and had a family and a home, whether in Invergarry or in the forest.
He decided soon after he’d arrived at the Hetheringtons’ town hall that he wanted to leave. He never expected Braya’s father to stand up and tell all his kin that Torin had helped Braya save his wife and his nieces, including his niece or nephew yet to be born.
For this, the Hetherington leader had said, he owed Torin much.
Mayhap, Torin thought while he listened, the leader could keep his kin out of Bennett’s fights and Torin would consider the debt paid. Ah, but it was not so easy. No matter if they fought the Scots or not, they…shewould discover that he was one. A Scottish soldier. Their enemy. They would all end up looking at him the way Galien was looking at him now, seated in the front row with his uncles.
“Sir Torin,” Braya’s clear voice rang out amidst the soft clamor.
He turned in his seat and let his gaze feast on her.
“…is also the source of the extra food my father has shared with some of you.”
“What extra food?” someone called out.
“Why was it not shared withallof us?” cried someone else, followed by more disgruntled murmurs.
How serious was this going to get? Torin thought and looked at the faces around him for the first time. Most were clean. All were thin—not overly so, but not one weighed a stone more than they should. Most, if anything, weighed less.
Braya had stolen food from him to bring to them. His gaze flicked back to her.
“There was not enough to distribute evenly to everyone,” her father’s voice overrode every other. “Or do you all think me so unfair?” He waited, his gaze raking over every row. No one spoke, save to assure him they believed the opposite.
Watching him, Torin was reminded of some of the great clan chiefs in Scotland.
“The most needy among us received a share,” the leader told them all.
“I will bring more.” Torin didn’t know why he volunteered—and so hastily, but he didn’t seem to have control of his mouth—or his thoughts. “There is plenty at the castle.”
“If you are caught, you will lose your place in the guard,” Adams warned him, his dark eyes somber. But then, his lips curled into a sinuous grin. “But I have not been caught yet so I do not see why you would be.”
Torin stared at him for a moment, surprised to hear Adams say such a thing, and happy that he did. Another reason to hate Bennett; for filling his belly while his “friend’s” kin went hungry.
“We can work together,” Adams suggested. “And bring double the portion once a month.”
Torin smiled but wrinkled his brow. “I was thinking more like once a week.”
Everyone in earshot grew silent and waited with hopeful anticipation for him to continue.
Anything to bring suffering to the English soldiers. “You and I both know they could use less food and a lot more time on the practice field.”
“Aye,” Adams agreed. “But where will you tell them it has gone off to?”
“I will tell them I threw it away,” Torin advised him, tossing up his hands. “That I fed it to the pigs or the horses. I do not care. And after last night, I do notneedto care. The warden will not release either of us from our service to him.”
Adams thought about it for a moment then nodded and turned to the villagers. “Food will be here every week. As much as we can provide.”
Cheers went up, even from some of Torin’s most formidable enemies, like Galien and the mothers of the lads.
Soon, cups of cool water were passed out and the doors of the hall were swung open, letting in fresh air and sunshine. The gathering was coming to an end.
Torin found Braya’s gaze, and as much as he cursed the emotions she made him feel, he was thankful he was not beyond feeling them—for her sake. He wanted to please her, whether it be keeping peace or feeding her family; everything he did, it seemed he did for her. He’d never felt things like this before, but he wasn’t at a loss about what was happening to him. He wasn’t a fool. He suspected he might be losing what was left of his heart. He hadn’t guarded against caring for her because he hadn’t thought it was possible. He told himself it was the last thing he wanted in his life, but he wasn’t certain that was true.
“To fuller bellies,” Braya’s father called out, lifting his cup when everyone had theirs.
Torin raised his cup. Aye, he could drink to that.
“To new and lasting friendships,” Adams said next.
Torin smiled, more because it was expected of him than because he believed it. The cup felt a bit heavier.
“And to peace.”
Braya’s words pierced like arrows. His smile faded though he fought to keep it intact. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He was bringing war. Soon, there would be nothing between them but hatred.
