Chapter 7

7

E lvira was stunned when Rory left so abruptly. She had expected him to fire back, banter with her, but he seemed to have been genuinely insulted by her words, which had not been her intention. Of course, she was angry, but she had hoped to jolt him into action. Instead, he had cast her as the rogue, and he seemed to be just as ignorant as most other people. He had dragged his hand away as though she was poison, and insulted her skills. Part of her wished she had lashed her tongue more directly at him, while another wished she had been softer so that she could have gotten to the root of what caused this tension. Her gift of palm reading was fed by an innate curiosity to understand how people's minds worked. She could pick up on the currents of emotion that flowed within them, and she understood that there was always a reason for people to feel the way they did. Sometimes it just took a little work to uncover the truth, like massaging out a knot from a muscle. What could make a man so cowardly? Despite finding him hostile and callous, she did want to understand why he acted in this manner. After all, if there were more people in the village like him, then it was going to be difficult for them to rally against Laird McKovac.

She apologized to the person who had been waiting, explaining that her voice was hoarse and she needed a drink. They nodded, although the look on their face suggested they believed that Elvira had been flustered by Rory's reaction. Elvira found Isla, who was wiping down a table.

"Do you know much about that man?" Elvira asked, gesturing to the door through which Rory had just stormed out.

"Oh aye, that's Rory He's a harmless lad, even though he dinnae sound it taeday. Must be something about the forge that makes men angry. Ian would hae days like this as well," Isla replied.

"Harmless? Sae he dinnae hae a reputation for being cruel?" Elvira enquired.

Concern came over Isla's face. Her brow knotted. "Lass, did he say anything tae ye? I can get Torrin tae hae a word with him if ye like."

"Oh nae, it's naething like that. It's just… well… I went tae the forge last night, hoping that Ian was there. I used to know his family well when I was a child. But Rory dinnae believe that I knew Ian and turned us away," Elvira had told Isla how an old friendship with Ian had brought them to this village.

"Ah, I'm sorry about that. Unfortunately, some men never learn good manners. What he needs is a woman in that forge with him. All he hae is a cat, and I think he's learned some bad habitsif ye ask me. He's nice enough, ye know, but I think he's been alone for sae long now that he dinnae remember how tae be with other people. He spends all day hammering on that forge. It must be enough tae drive a man crazy," Isla shook her head gently.

"Sae ye would nae describe him as a cruel man?" Elvira asked.

"Nae, like I said, sometimes a man just needs a soft touch. Torrin was the same before I met him, always prone tae dark moods. It's amazing what a wee bit of tenderness can dae," she said.

Elvira thought on her words. If Rory had been in any other forge in any other village, then she wouldn't have been so burdened with thoughts of him. But he was in this village, and he lived in Ian's forge. Whatever faint bond lingered from childhood, it was enough for Elvira to want to understand how Ian could have allowed a man like Rory to take over for him. Besides, if she was to gauge the attitude of the village, then she needed to understand men like Rory. So she did what she had to. She left the tavern trailing after Rory, her cloak billowing behind her.

She increased her pace, as his long strides carried him quickly. She saw him from afar rushing into the night. "Rory," she called out, before he made it to his forge. He slowed his pace and turned, wearing a dark look.

"What dae ye want? Dinnae ye run out of insults back there?" he asked, a hurtful tone to his voice.

In Elvira's experience, it was rare to find someone who possessed a callous heart to be so sensitive to insults. Usually people like that cared not for what people thought of them, yet Rory seemed to be wounded just as surely as if he had been pierced by an arrow.

"I dinnae mean tae insult ye. I can only offer the truth as I perceive it. But if I am wrong, then I would like tae give ye the chance tae prove it. Show me that I am mistaken about yer character. Give me a sign that ye are a better man than what I hae been shown already."

Rory's green eyes had a darkness about them that was as deep as the night. He looked down his nose at her, but there was not a sense of smugness or superiority at all, just a storm of emotion behind his eyes. "I dinnae hae tae prove myself tae ye. Besides, ye can hurl insults at me all ye want, but at least I am nae a liar, preying on people's fears. Ye should be taken up tae the keep and put in the stocks for yer crimes. Is that how ye make a living, moving from village tae village and convincing people tae give away their coin by telling them that they're gaeing tae fall in love, and that they're gaeing tae be happy? Whatever words ye tell them, they're all empty."

Rory moved to turn away from Elvira. The disrespect he showed her ran deep, for not only did he insult her, but he also mocked the way her people lived, stretching back for generations. Still, Elvira quelled the sharp words that were waiting to be unsheathed. It would do no good to get into an argument with him again. Nor did she want to tell him the true reason why she had come to Boyd lands. He'd likely just think it was another lie.

"I dinnae lie tae people, and I dinnae tell them what they want tae hear. I dinnae know why ye are sae quick tae think the worst of me, Rory. I hae done naething tae offend ye. Is listening tae people a crime? Is giving them advice something tae be feared? I am nae a criminal. It seems tae me that if people took the time tae understand what I and many of my people dae, we would nae be treated like pariahs. Frankly, I'm surprised ye hae nae come out and accused me of being a witch, cursing my dark magic."

"I'm nae fool enough tae believe in magic," Rory muttered.

"There's that word again, fool . Are ye afraid of being taken for a fool, Rory? Is that why you are determined to view everything with suspicion?" she asked, using all the gifts Maria had passed down to her to try and get through the tall walls that Rory had erected around himself.

"If I view ye with suspicion, it is only because ye deserve it. Aye, ye may think that ye are giving people simple advice, but ye are charging them a pretty penny for daeing sae."

"I am daeing what I must tae keep my family afloat. I'm sure ye are observant enough tae notice that I am accompanied by my grandmother and my two siblings. There is nae a man among us who can give himself tae labor. I must make use of the skills I possess."

"I hae heard thieves justify their actions by self-preservation before. It dinnae mean they are innocent," Rory sneered, although a flash of emotion came across his face, and he looked as though he flinched.

"I am nae thief. People give me their coin willingly. If ye found yeself in a strange place and all ye hae was yer hammer, would ye give away yer skills for free?"

"That's different," Rory said.

Elvira merely arched an eyebrow, silently challenging him to define how it was different.

Rory could not offer an explanation. Instead, he scoffed with derision and waved a hand in her direction, shaking his head. "I dinnae need tae speak with ye. Just gae back tae the tavern if ye like. If people want tae throw away their hard-earned coins while talking tae a stranger, then sae be it. I'm nae gaeing tae get involved," he spat, and turned his broad back to her. Something about his attitude pierced Elvira's heart. Here she was, having seen her home burned, being driven from a land as some madman had decided that she and people like her were no longer welcome. And there Rory stood, a man who seemed to have never known hardship in his entire life. He could dismiss everything she stood for in one breath, just as though he was wiping raindrops off his tunic and sending them splashing to the ground.

"That's the phrase that sums ye up, I wager. Ye dinnae get involved. Whenever a problem comes tae ye, ye just turn away and pretend it dinnae exist," she said darkly. Lustrous, curled strands of hair fell across her face as she dipped her head. At that moment, Elvira wished she did possess magic, as she would have liked to see the surprise on Rory's face. As it was, he received only a baleful glare.

Rory threw his hands in the air and huffed. "I'm sorry for nae helping ye last night. I dinnae realize that I hae tae open my forge tae anyone who comes along. I guided ye tae the tavern, did I nae? And that seemed tae work out well for ye. Ye would nae hae all these customers if ye were staying with me. I'm sure ye will be moving on soon enough anyway, sae I suggest that ye stay away from me while ye are here."

"I wish I could move on, but that is nae easy for someone like me. Nae matter where we gae, my people are nae welcomed. We're viewed with suspicion and fear. Sae far I hae received hospitality, but I know that can change in an instant. Whenever I move somewhere new, I hae tae worry about whether we're gaeing tae hae swords at our throats. I came here because I thought I hae a friend, and I'm just thankful that Isla and Torrin took pity on us. It could sae easily hae been different. Ye would nae know about that, never knowing if ye hae a safe place tae rest yer head, being viewed as worthless, nae belonging tae this land. But that's fine, ye are nae the first person tae feel this way, and I pity ye for haring such a black heart. But this is nae just about my family. This is about yer entire village," Elvira stepped closer to Rory as she spoke, closing the distance between them until there was barely any air. Now that she was so close to him, she could see the dark stubble that threatened to bloom into a full beard, the stiff neck muscles, the slight hint of freckles across the bridge of his nose. "Ye stand there refusing tae help everyone, including the people around ye. Perhaps things may be different if they paid ye for yer skills, aye? It's nae as if ye would forge weapons for free."

The words cut through the air. The color paled from Rory's cheeks and he looked haunted. He staggered back, as though he had been struck by an open hand. He blinked quickly, as though he was trying to understand how she could know such a thing.

"Did Torrin tell ye?" he asked, the words rushing out of him in a hushed whisper. He looked around anxiously. "What are ye trying tae dae? Dae ye know how much trouble ye could cause?"

"Ye hae nae idea how much danger ye are truly in," Elvira replied. In his panic, Rory grabbed her arm and dragged her to a nearby alley, and he continued speaking in a low voice.

"What are ye talking about? Is this another trick?"

Elvira rolled her eyes. "There hae been nae tricks, Rory. I hae nae lied tae ye. Ye just think that I hae, but ye are wrong. I dinnae want tae hurt anyone. I just want tae help them, and I can help ye tae."

"How can ye help me?" Rory scoffed, wearing a disbelieving look.

"The same way I help everyone else, by telling ye the truth. Nae once hae ye thought tae ask where I come from, or what brought me here. Dae ye think I like living this way? I hae lost my home, been driven from my land… and I think ye can sense where people like me would be treated sae harshly. There is a storm coming, Rory, and the best thing ye can dae is prepare for it. Pretending like it is nae gaeing tae happen is foolish. Ye would be daeing yeself and the people of this village a disservice."

"McKovac lands," Rory said in a grim, gravelly voice.

Elvira nodded. "Aye. He is losing himself tae madness, and naebody can reign him in. I watched my home burn because of him. I fled raiding parties. It is only a matter of time before he turns his ire outwards and starts attacking other enemies, enemies like this old clan. Ye might think that ye can stay in that forge and all the troubles of the world will pass ye by, but ye are wrong. McKovac will come, and if ye are nae ready tae defend yeselves then this place will burn. That is the truth, and I will nae even ask ye for any coin in return," she gave a haughty sway of her head and then turned from him, walking back to the tavern. Her cloak swayed along with her hips, but she did not look back towards Rory, no matter how much she wanted to. There was something about him that got under her skin and caused a fervor, although she wasn't quite sure how he accomplished that.

Rory was left reeling in the wake of Elvira's warning. He wanted to think that she was lying so badly, but everything she said made sense. He shook his head after running his hand along his scalp, and then returned to the refuge of the forge, trying to hammer away all the tension and unease that plagued him. However, no matter how fierce the cacophony of sound was around him, Rory could not get Elvira's words out of his mind. Everything she said made sense, and if McKovac turned on people within his own lands, then what would stop him from striking at ancient enemies? Perhaps his need to avoid trouble was leading him to endanger others.

He wondered what he would have done had Ian, Lucy, and Anne been there in the village. Would he have been so quick to turn away from Torrin's call if people he loved were in danger? He had become a solitary figure, distancing himself from others. He was beginning to see how this had led him to a dark place, to a point where he barely recognized himself. He felt like a hypocrite. Elvira accused him of not knowing what it was like to have doors slammed in his face, to be treated like a nuisance, to be told he didn't belong. On the contrary, he knew exactly what that was like. Had things changed so drastically? Had he really left that boy behind? And the way he had erupted in anger at Elvira… Was that just pent-up frustration for the life he had been forced to live with Anne? They hadn't wanted to cause so much trouble or deceive people, but it was either that or die of starvation.

And now Elvira was trying to goad him into action by calling him a coward, but a coward he was. This village was not his home in the sense that it didn't house people he cared about. Perhaps there was a part of him that had always thought if he got into trouble he could just move to a new village and a new clan, or even return to live with Anne and Finlay. After all, there were plenty of places that could use a skilled blacksmith.

But that wasn't who he was, or at least who he wanted to be. He never imagined he would turn into the man who slipped away into the shadows, disappearing while danger soared around them. A bitter feeling entered his heart and he wore a cloak of shame. Sweat mingled with tears as he thought about all the people who depended on him. He could help so many. What if they died? The blood and the screams would be on his clean hands. None of these people deserved to die, and certainly not because some blacksmith thought himself above getting involved in trouble like this.

The more Rory thought about Elvira's words, the more he realized that he had changed too much for his own liking. He had to put a stop to it now, before he was beyond salvation. It was time to make a difference. It was time to find Torrin and help protect this village from the oncoming storm, because if Elvira was right, then McKovac could not be negotiated with, and Glennrock did not seem disposed to protect the people of the village.

Rory had been working on instinct, and when he looked down, his creation took him by surprise. He had abandoned the commission he had been working on, and instead had made something far more important. He had forged a sword, a symbol of the new attitude that he wanted to live by from now on.