his eyebrows together, mocking his older brother’s expression as best he could.
“Tell me.”
“Either you or Reid should bring men to the Day of Truce. I need to ensure Juliette’s father encounters no further trouble.”
Toren’s new father-in-law, Stewart Hallington, had been falsely accused of taking bribes to allow Englishmen who’d committed crimes against Scots to walk free. The criminals should have been brought to the monthly Day of Truce, where crimes against men from each side of the border were judged and punished. Hallington’s sheriff, unbeknownst to the lord, had been taking the bribes. Sent to kill the warden, Toren had instead fallen in love with the man’s daughter. Ultimately, he had discovered Hallington’s innocence, and by breaking Clan Kerr’s tradition of remaining neutral and refusing new allies, he’d managed to rally enough support to convince Douglas, Scotland’s Warden, and the king to abandon their original plan. The matter had been settled, but some Scots still wanted the warden’s head served to them on a plate. Toren was right to worry.
The situation had put their clan in the unlikely position of having new allies. Though Alex and Reid were glad for the development, their mistrusting chief was not. Much like their father, Toren had spent years cultivating a perfectly unallied, neutral clan who cared only for keeping themselves safe.
Now, they were anything but neutral. With their sister’s marriage to Bryce Waryn and Toren’s marriage to the daughter of the English Warden, Clan Kerr was as embroiled in border politics as any clan in Scotland.
“And now deSowlis is firmly an ally once again.” His brother winced. “We should ensure the recent raid on their land remains nothing more than a nuisance. Word is they lost men, though I’ve yet to confirm as much.”
Toren frowned. “If that’s true, we should increase the watch. The raids have become more violent lately. It worries me that these men are so brazenly violating the tr—”
“What is he doing?”
As they talked, Alex’s eyes had been drawn to his new squire, who, rather than taking a sword against an opponent, stood to the side, watching the spectacle. Each day the lad made himself available—he ran with the others and climbed as well as most. But it suddenly struck Alex that he’d not seen his squire swing a sword.
“You can’t expect him to pair with someone of that size.” Toren gestured toward the field. Most of the men were full grown, almost twice the lad’s weight and heft.
“I forget the lad is English. Do they stand aside when a battle takes place, perhaps cleaning the mud from their lord’s boots as—”
“You’ll remember my wife is English.”
Alex frowned.
“And your sister is married to an Englishman.”
That reminder did not improve his disposition. Alex’s dislike for the English was well-established. At one time, all of his siblings had shared that feeling—a relic of having an English mother who’d abandoned them and living on the border where strife was the way of things.
“Alex. . .”
“Don’t worry, brother. I will conduct myself quite courteously with Lady Juliette, you can rest assured.”
“Is that why you failed to welcome her to her new home? Did you hope to make her feel unwelcome?”
He had been waiting for his brother to bring that up again.
“I’m more surprised that Reid agreed to go along with such nonsense,” Toren continued. “But you no doubt came up with the idea.”
“We are allied with them now,” Toren said.
It was a fact he could not change. He’d even grudgingly begun to accept that the Waryn men were worthy of his respect. When he brought his sister back to England to visit, before Catrina and Bryce decided to marry, he’d spoken to both brothers on more than one occasion. “By Christ’s—”
“Alex.” His brother’s tone was sharp.
But he didn’t want to have this conversation now. . . and he didn’t want to think about how the English had infiltrated his life—like the reedy squire who had been foisted upon him. The lad would learn nothing if he stayed out of the way of danger.
“Begging your pardon, Chief,” he said, turning away from his brother. He once again yelled for the men to switch as he pulled his sword from its sheath. “Alfred!”
The boy was obedient enough—he’d give him that. The lad ran toward him.
“Alex, what are you doing?” Toren asked in an undertone.
“Training my new squire,” he replied smartly as the lad came to a stop in front of him. “Alfred,” he said, looking at the lad, “Why are you not training with the men?”
Alfred