Chapter Seventeen
If Torin lost,Braya would kill them both.
She watched, afraid for Torin, for she’d fought this mountain of a man and he was strong. But Torin knew how to fight and he seemed eager to battle John Armstrong.
She swung her blade and ended the life of a man coming toward her with an axe. She saw Rob Adams hurrying toward her and let him embrace her when he reached her. Her father was there next, to hold and cherish her, and to witness the most savage warrior their eyes have ever seen.
Torin circled Armstrong like a predator sizing up its prey. His wore no expression on his face save for anger, dark and dangerous. He moved quickly, rushing in and then leaping back, slicing, swinging, jabbing, and, most impressively, dodging and deflecting deadly blows and combinations.
John Armstrong wasn’t the leader because he was handsome. Because he was not that. But he was a skilled fighter, able to protect the Armstrongs of the western Marches. Could Torin beat him? He had better. She tilted her head. Mr. Adams did not look worried, but her father did.
It didn’t take her long to realize that Torin was tiring the bulky leader in the sight of all his people. Armstrong couldn’t keep up with his quick movements. The leader would swing something massive and miss, using up his power. He was growing weaker by the moment.
Her father must have realized the same thing because he called out, “Finish him!”
Torin ducked low, avoiding a blow to the head, and came up swinging his fists. One of them—the one which was wrapped around the hilt of his sword—hit Armstrong in the jaw.
The leader cried out in pain. Torin lifted his boot and kicked him onto his back, and then fell upon him. He held up his sword and looked ready to plunge it into the man who had kidnapped her.
“Torin, no!” Braya called out and ran to him. “We will never have peace with the Armstrongs if you kill him.”
He turned to look at her as she dropped to her knees beside him.
“Please! Please, show him mercy!”
She wasn’t sure he would, and it pricked at her heart. She knew Galien wouldn’t show mercy. In this case, she didn’t think her father would either. Men and their pride. What had been done, had been done to her! If she could show him mercy, why the hell couldn’t they?
He lifted his sword. Her heart accelerated. He drove the blade into the ground and turned back to his prisoner while Braya’s heart melted all over her ribs.
“You will tell the Hetheringtons who put you up to this,” he demanded. “They will know the truth or you will die.”
“Bennett,” the leader cried out, clutching his face. “’Twas the warden.”
Braya didn’t want to believe Bennett would go this far, but he had. She knew her father would never support him after this. She was glad for it all.
“Let us leave this place,” she called out to the others while she stood. She turned to Torin as he straightened and stepped over the Armstrong leader. “Take me home.”
She wanted to hold him, to kiss him. He’d shown mercy when he clearly wanted to kill their enemy. He’d listened to her and done what she’d asked. None of the other men ever listened to her.
Oh, to hell with it! She didn’t care what her family thought. She threw her arms around her knight and fell against him, careful not to bump her bruised jaw. “Thank you, Torin. Thank you for coming for me.”
“Come,” he said in a comforting tone. “We have more to talk about. You will ride back with me on Avalon.”
When she agreed, he turned to the villagers and Armstrong’s guards, even Armstrong himself. “You will not fight on Bennett’s side for any reason or I will come for each of you. As for the Hetheringtons, if you attack them again, you have me, Torin Gray, to worry about. I will not be merciful next time.”
Her family had him. Was he going to settle down here then?
Braya wanted peace but she knew that, sometimes, some people only understood peace through fear. So let them fear Torin Gray. He’d come for her…how had he gained entrance to the village? She knew from past raids that it was almost impenetrable. How did he know where to find her? What other things did he want to speak with her about? She had many questions, but most of all, what had he said or done to quiet Galien?
They left the village and Torin called for his horse. His white and chestnut mare came from out of the trees and raced toward them. Braya thought Avalon was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to ride her.
“She will bite me,” she said as the horse neared.
“I will make certain she does not,” Torin assured her.
Without waiting for her reply, he lifted her up and helped her into the saddle. Avalon spun her head around and Braya was certain she was about to lose a piece of her leg, but Avalon did not bite her. For a moment, Braya had the urge to smile, proud of herself for avoiding Avalon’s ire.
When Torin leaped up behind her, she finally felt safe.
