Chapter Sixteen
For a horrifyinginstant, Torin was back in his mother’s kitchen, watching…back in the forest, finding his friends. He felt the dark beast stirring, merciless, ruthless, determined to find and kill every enemy.
“Where is their village?” he asked Adams calmly from high atop Avalon’s back.
“’Tis south of here,” Adams replied, and then looked down at Lucy. “The men gave chase?”
She nodded.
“How long ago?”
“Less than an hour ago. Oh, will you find her?” She turned her gaze to Torin. “Will you bring her back?”
He nodded, and then he gave a slight tug to Avalon’s left rein and took off. He didn’t speak to Adams on the way south, but rode Avalon hard and fast until he saw signs of the Hetheringtons in the distance. They had stopped their advance. Why?
He pushed Avalon harder and she went with ease, her long snowy mane flowing out behind her as she passed Adams’ horse.
When he reached the reivers, he spotted Rowley on his feet with other men, including Galien. He slid from Avalon’s saddle before she came to a complete halt, let her go the way she wanted, and hurried to Braya’s family.
“What is going on? Why have you stopped here?”
“Further ahead is the Armstrong’s well-fortified village,” her father informed him.
“What are you doing here?” Galien demanded, and then turned away when both his father and Torin cast him murderous glares.
“We do not know where they have taken Braya,” her father continued. “If we rush in, who knows what they might do to her before we reach her.”
Torin nodded and then leaned in. “I will get inside this well-fortified village and I will find her. I will bring her out and help you slaughter those who took her.”
Her father stared at him. He could feel Galien’s eyes on him as well.
“The warden,” he continued, “has accused your daughter of conspiring with the Armstrongs against him and his guards and plans on forcing you to agree to let him marry her. That is why he summoned you to the castle.”
“I will kill him,” Rowley Hetherington vowed. “I suspect he has something to do with this.”
“Aye. Perhaps he wants to give weight to his accusation by having her ‘caught’ with the Armstrongs.”
Torin was relieved, as even Galien seemed convinced.
“Give me two hours to get inside and find her,” Torin demanded. “Come in any time after that.”
“Why does he get to go in alone?” Galien griped.
“I can find a way into any enemy stronghold,” Torin told him directly. “I have done so many times. If the slightest thing goes awry, it could cost Braya her life. Please, trust me. I can get her back. We are wasting time.”
Her brother gave him the slightest nod.
Her father stared him in the eye. Torin could feel the strength in the older man’s gaze. He could see the hope there. “I will not fail her,” he promised.
“How do you plan on doing this?” her father asked. “How will we know when you have found her?”
Torin reached out and patted his shoulder and finally smiled. “You will know.”
“When Adams and his horse finally get here,” he said as he moved away, “tell him not to follow me. And no one touches my horse!”
The time forhesitation was over.
Thankfully, trees surrounded the village of Scorney—and Torin was at home in the trees. He knew how to climb them, to wait in them, to listen high atop everyone else without them knowing.
