So close. He'd get there. Not today, but soon. He had a task to accomplish here, and the sooner he completed it, the sooner he could rejoin his regiment. He wasn't stopping for anything.
Except sheep. Blast it. It would seem they were stopping for sheep.
A rough voice said, "I'll take care of them."
Thorne joined their group. Bram flicked his gaze to the side and spied his hulking mountain of a corporal shouldering a flintlock rifle.
"We can't simply shoot them, Thorne."
Obedient as ever, Thorne lowered his gun. "Then I've a cutlass. Just sharpened the blade last night."
"We can't butcher them, either."
Thorne shrugged. "I'm hungry."
Yes, that was Thorne--straightforward, practical. Ruthless.
