the hearth. Jenny brushed out the lass’s hair until it crackled. All the while Jenny brushed, Isla gripped her hands tightly in her lap.
“Am I hurting ye?” Jenny asked.
“Nay.” Isla laughed tensely. “Just a little…nervous is all.”
“Ye’ll be safe here.”
“I know.” She nodded, smoothing her fingers over her brows. “I can tell. We didna feel so safe at our great-uncle’s castle.”
“Why is that?” Jenny asked it softly, not wanting to pry too obviously. She had about a hundred questions she was ready to fire off at the lass but instead was trying to remain calm so as not to give the girl any alarm. She was sharp, and Jenny had to remember that.
“I’m not certain how to explain it.” Isla shrugged. “Just felt…unsafe. People were always watching. Uncle always waiting. The air was so…I dinna know, thick, I suppose. Angry.”
Jenny knew that feeling. “And Camdyn? Did he feel that way too?”
“He was busy training.” She shrugged again. “We didna talk about it overmuch. But I know when Toran came home, things seemed to grow tenser. He was not even home an hour before it was time to go. Neither of us argued. Even Simon didna argue, and he and Toran fight at every chance. My brother said we were going to a safer place. A place run by a brave woman. Is that ye?”
Jenny smiled. “’Hap ’tis.”
“I think so.” Isla turned abruptly, causing Jenny to nearly rip out her hair with the brush, and she flung herself against her. “Thank ye.”
Jenny hugged the lass back, stroking her hair as she imagined an older sister might do. “Ye’re welcome.” She patted her awkwardly then, pulling back slightly and feeling the need to leave to process what she’d learned. “Sweet dreams. If ye need anything, I’m only across the hall.”
Jenny slipped from the room, entering her own chamber with a great sigh. If only there was a way for her to sneak into the men’s barracks without anyone the wiser.
A sound from outside her window had Jenny easing over to pull back the curtain and peer down below. Well, it would appear that there was a God after all. What looked to be all the men from the barracks were standing in a circle in the center of the bailey, chanting. A fight, no doubt. She couldn’t see who it was, as the crowd pressed in around the combatants and not enough of the torchlight filtered through. Did it matter? They were probably fighting over a bet or a lost game of knuckles.
But that meant the barracks were clear—and her desire to search through Toran’s bag was actually possible to fulfill.
* * *
Toran grinned at his opponent. He and Dirk had both discarded their shirts and boots, standing only in their trews. The men of the clan stood in a rocking circle around them, and somewhere in the courtyard someone beat against a drum. Simon was taking bets—having staked his odds on Dirk, the bastard.
The fighting ring was illuminated by only the moon and less than a half dozen lit torches flickering in brackets on the walls.
Dirk had the advantage of a few inches in height, though Toran himself was a tall man. He more than made up for those inches in muscle—Dirk was well built, but Toran was bigger. Stronger. And, he prayed, faster.
The drum stopped abruptly, a signal that their fight was now to start.
Dirk held up his hand and beckoned Toran forward. So, Dirk wanted to see Toran’s moves first and wouldn’t toss the first punch. Well, he didn’t fault him for that, for he’d been considering the same method. But now that he’d been invited to swing first, he couldn’t refuse without looking like a fool.
Fine.
Toran stepped to the left and then quickly to the right, throwing out his arm in a hard right hook. Dirk blocked him and parried with two quick jabs to Toran’s ribs. Toran gritted his teeth, letting out an oomph.
Ballocks but that bloody hurt! The man had a damned hard hit. Toran retaliated with a jab up, hitting Dirk in the jaw hard enough to snap the man’s head back, stunning him for the few seconds it took to swing with his left, catching Dirk in the gut. The man stumbled back, shook his head, and rubbed at his jaw.
“Good hit, Fraser.” Dirk smirked. “That’ll be the last one ye get.”
Toran grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
Dirk lunged forward. When Toran moved to block, the man ducked and spun to hit Toran in the back. Though