Ella turned her face toward the billowing smoke rising over the trees that wove through the village. Hopefully, for the sake of his people, Randolph would take note of it and stay well away from the Sinclairs. If Joshua was to sway his brother to order a full attack, Ella doubted that a single part of Varrich or its village would survive it. Just like Dunrobin if her people chose to fight.

Cain’s horse moved like a steady breeze, smooth with a gentle rolling, and he leaned in to Ella’s back. With her leather armor thrown over her training shirt, she couldn’t feel the heat of his skin, though she imagined she could.

After nearly an hour of riding, they entered a forest. “To where do we ride?” she asked.

“Loch Hempriggs.” His voice was still gruff as if he tried to tame his anger. Ella knew the warning signs of fury, but unlike her father, Cain would not strike her.

Seraph weaved a path through the trees, and Cain passed Ella his water flask. Wiping the grime from her mouth, she spotted the lowering sun through the canopy of leaves. The gold showered them in dappled light. The leaves of the summer forest cast Cain’s horse in green so that it looked to be dyed like Bàs’s horses before a planned battle.

“Ye did not obey my order to remain at Girnigoe,” Cain said, his voice like distant thunder. “Did ye kill Thomas, then?”

She glanced at him to see if he jested, but his gaze remained outward, focusing somewhere over her head. Should she reveal that Merida had helped trick Thomas into the tower room without a key on the inside?

“I did not kill him. He acted valiantly to try to stop me,” she said.

Cain snorted. He leaned in to her back, his warm breath near her ear, causing tingles to rush down her skin. “If ye were one of my warriors, ye would be flogged for disobeying.”

She pressed her lips together, staring out over his horse’s head. “I was responsible for not realizing Hannah’s misguided feelings when she spoke to me about Hew.”

The horse maneuvered around a wide bramblebush, exposing a small loch of calm water ahead. “Many of us were responsible for Hannah’s mistake, but ye put yourself at risk today, something I will not allow.”

Allow? The word tightened her jaw. “I am not allowed to help save a friend?”

“Hannah is a Sinclair, yet ye consider her a friend?”

“Yes,” she snapped back. She shook her head lightly. The line between enemy and friend had blurred completely.

“I will speak with her when we return to Girnigoe.” His voice held the faintest edge of torture, its rough tone a combination of checked fury and self-flagellation.

She spoke over her shoulder. “I will first. You might growl and scare her.”

“I do not growl.”

“You are growling now.”