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“Nay.” He did not brag but merely spoke the truth. She knew his brother enough to surmise the character of the man who sat across from her. He would not cheat.
“In truth, I’d like to blame your countrymen, but I’ve seen men from both sides of the border commit the same selfish, dishonorable acts.”
“As have I. English. . . Scottish. . . it matters not.”
Alex cocked his head to the side. “You’ve seen much as a squire.”
For once, he was not questioning her for information about her past. He seemed curious—no more, no less. “Aye, more than I’d have liked. Some good and some not. But I do believe everyone has the capacity for both inside them.”
She’d never voiced that thought aloud, but it had stuck with her throughout the years, and her experiences on and off the field had convinced her it was true.
To her surprise, Alex nodded. “My father once said much the same. He warned against alliances for that reason.”
“Which is why Clan Kerr had so few until recently.” She knew as much from Toren.
“Aye, and even now we’ve only joined forces with others by necessity. First to help Catrina marry the man she loved, and then to help Toren settle things with Juliette. Soon, thanks to ‘love,’ we’ll be allied with half of Scotland and England.”
She winced inwardly at the way he’d said the word ‘love.’
“You say the word as if it were a curse.”
“Is it not? The future of our clan is now intertwined with the decisions of others. If they go to battle, we go with them.”
“But you serve the king the same way, do you not?”
“By necessity, not choice.”
Clara smiled. “Love. Allies. Is there anything you do not despise?”
Alex returned her smile. “Battle. Training. Ale. Women.”
She laughed. “’Tis not necessary to continue.”
But he did anyway. “And the company of a good man. Or woman.”
Somehow she knew he no longer spoke of intimacy with a woman, but the type of companionship they now shared. Indeed, he was an easy man to speak to.
They sat in silence a moment longer, and then Alex abruptly stood and turned toward their mounts. She followed.
It would be a long journey indeed.
* * *
Alex erected the tent, already regretting his decision to allow Clara along. He’d avoided ‘the pass,’ a well-worn old Roman road that was fairly flat and well-marked in most places, because border reivers used it regularly to wreak havoc on both sides of the border. The one they took now was slower, the terrain less friendly, and it afforded them less opportunities for proper shelters. It wove through the thick forest, however, which would give them much needed protection. Clara hadn’t complained once, not even when he’d told her they would be making camp on the road. She was just as competent as Toren had assured him she’d be.
He didn’t regret taking her because she slowed them down. . . he regretted it because she’d just washed her face and discarded her cap, and the woman, not the boy, walked toward him now.
“Would you like me to start the fire or hunt for food?” Clara asked.
It was the least likely question he’d ever been asked by a woman.
“I’ve enough provisions for two more days. Tomorrow will make for better hunting, and I’d prefer that we stay together.”
He’d already gathered materials for a fire while she was washing herself. And though the sun had not yet set, the warm summer day would give way to a cool night, as it did most evenings in this part of the world.
“How long until we reach Kenshire?” she asked.
“It should not take more than a week.”
