Page 25 of Highland Lords of War & Thunder: The Prequel

The dapple-gray mare didn't move.

Men passed them carrying crates and sacks aboard the ship bound for Morra Mist. Sailors called to one another from the deck, ropes creaked, wood groaned, and waves slapped against the hull.

None of it was unfamiliar to Sorcha.

That was what troubled Torden. She had traveled aboard ships with him before and had never given him difficulty. She might not have cared for being confined below, but she had always followed him willingly.

Today she refused to take another step.

Torden ran a reassuring hand along her neck. “You've done this before.”

Sorcha tossed her head and backed away from the gangplank.

Torden grew concerned. Something was wrong.

He gave her a moment before trying again, walking beside her rather than leading from ahead. She trusted him enough to follow, though every step seemed reluctant. By the time they reached the deck, her body was tense beneath his hand.

A sailor approached and motioned toward the opening that led below.

“Horses go beneath.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Torden snapped so sharply that sailor hurried off.

He wanted to give Sorcha a bit of time to settle before taking her below, but with all the boarding activity he couldn’t stay there long.

A few more minutes, then Torden started forward.

Sorcha didn't.

He looked back at her. Her ears flattened and she pulled against the reins.

“Sorcha,” he said, his voice holding a command.

The mare backed away.

Now he was concerned.

She knew that tone of his meant she was to obey for both their safety. She also knew ships. She knew the cramped quarters below deck and had endured far longer crossings than the one ahead of them. Yet she was behaving as though he intended to lead her straight into danger.

Torden moved closer and rubbed her neck. “What is it, lass?”

Sorcha's dark eyes remained fixed on the opening.

Then a familiar voice rose above the activity on deck.

“You bloody idiot.”

Torden went still, then slowly turned his head.

The young woman from the inn, Ismera, stood several yards away arguing with one of the sailors.

“Of course she did,” he grumbled and looked at Sorcha. “Don't worry. I won’t let the troublesome lass near you.”

Sorcha's ears suddenly pricked forward.

Torden scowled. Ismera had spotted him and that had brought her debate with the sailor to an abrupt halt.

For one hopeful moment, Torden thought she might ignore him, angry for dumping her on her backside outside the inn and she would turn in the opposite direction. He wasn’t that lucky.