Ryland stopped and turned. “For what?”
“Saving my life. That was…kindof you.”
“That I needed as many warriors fighting as possible, then I suppose you can say it was kind of me rather than practical. Now see to your wound. I am impatient to leave.”
“It is difficult for a good man to hide his nature,” Esme whispered after they were a distance away from Brack.
“He knows,” Ryland said, annoyed.
“Or he questions like I did, unsure of what he suspects.”
“This has gone on long enough. It needs to end and soon,” Ryland said.
A warrior approached them cautiously.
Ryland waved him forward. “What is it?”
“We found one still alive, but he won’t be for long.”
“Show me,” Ryland ordered and was about to tell Esme to wait there for him when she tugged his hand for them to hurry and follow the warrior. She was not going to be left behind.
One look and Esme saw that the man wouldn’t live long. She also saw how Torrance’s warriors watched him. Most looked fearful, but a few grinned as if in anticipation and Esme’s stomach roiled at the thought of the pleasure they got from seeing another suffer.
“Who do you fight for?” Ryland demanded.
“Don’t know…don’t… care,” the man struggled to say.
“You fight for coin?” Ryland asked.
The fellow continued struggling to speak. “The only… thing… that matters.”
Ryland squatted down beside the man, staring at him.
The man squinted as if he was trying to see Ryland clearly.
Ryland leaned over and whispered something to him.
The fellow whispered something back and they exchanged several whispers before Ryland stood. He looked about to walk away when his hand went to the dagger at his waist. In one fluid motion, he slipped the dagger from its sheath, bent down, and slit the man’s throat.
No one spoke and no one moved, and Esme paled.
“Move his body deeper into the woods away from the path,” Ryland ordered, as if taking a life had not bothered him at all.
Esme found herself speechless when Ryland took her by the arm and continued to issue orders and in no time, she found herself atop his horse and in his arms. Once again, they were on their way.
Glencairn warriors surrounded them, the wounded riding double so they could be helped and the dead left to the forestanimals. Esme could not stop seeing what Ryland did to the man. It was burned into her head. He had slit his throat without a flinch as if it didn’t matter in the least to him. It was something Torrance would have done.
But he wasn’t Torrance, something she needed to remember. Why then did he do it?
Esme raised her head, their eyes meeting.
Ryland saw the question in her eyes and kept his voice low as he said, “I knew him.”
She let out a low gasp, suddenly understanding.
“He begged me to end his suffering quickly when I called him by name and reminded him what I—Ryland—had said the last time we spoke. He fought alongside Clan MacLeish against Clan Glencairn. He was a good man. He spoke the truth when he said he didn’t know and didn’t care who hired him. He only cared that Lord Torrance was to die and his wife in case she carried his child.”
“You ended his suffering.”