“Brogan?”
“Get back!” Brogan yelled, vaulting up the hill, eyes huge. “Down!”
He flew at Alexander and the two of them fell, tangled in a heap, into the cave. A bolt rattled overhead, losing itself somewhere in the underbrush.
“Crossbows!” Brogan hissed. “They spotted us. We have to run.”
Alexander struggled to his feet, threading the dagger into its scabbard swiftly.
“Here!” a strange voice yelled, tight with the same excitement a hunter might feel, sighting a buck. “Here!”
“We have to go!” Alexander hissed, and, as Brogan got to his feet, he grabbed his shoulder, shifting his trajectory down the hill on the other side, crossing the stream.
Splashing across the water, they disappeared into the undergrowth, just as their assailants reached the top of the hill.
“Where’ve they gone?” they heard somebody shouting.
“Check the cave!” another man shouted impatiently. “That’s where they’ve been hiding. Get them surrounded.”
“Run,” Alexander hissed.
Brogan nodded. They climbed up the bank and into the trees.
“There!” a voice shouted. Alexander looked up to see men standing on the ridge. He saw the glint of brown hair, and the senior officer, pointing straight at them. Then a bolt rattled across the space and they turned and ran.
“Get down,” he hissed to Brogan. His sergeant fell, and the bolt that had been aiming for his back spent itself somewhere in the tree line.
“Sir!” Brogan said, wriggling forward on his elbows. “Stay down. Like this! It’s the only way.”
“We can’t stay down long,” Alexander agreed, getting onto his hands and shins and struggling through the damp, cold leaf mold. “They’ll be running to surround us.”
“Aye,” Brogan agreed. “But then they cannae risk shooting.”
“True.”
Feeling his arms and legs burning with effort, trying to remember to weave from side to side, to throw off anybody’s aim, he worked his way across the clay scented, cold earth.
“Run!” Brogan yelled, as they reached a slight rise. “I can hear people coming.”
Alexander looked round swiftly, then got to his feet, just as he heard a yell. Whooping, excited, the soldiers were gathering round them. Alexander felt as if he was a hunted creature and regretted, profoundly, all the hunts he’d been on in the past.
If he survived this, he’d never hunt again. This experience was just too dreadful.
“Do you know where we are?” he wheezed, as they ran, legs burning, down another slope.
“River’s that way,” Brogan called. Then, yelling, he stumbled and rolled.
Alexander dropped, rolling with him. Together they landed in a welt of leaves and loam, in the valley below.
Alexander lay where he was, winded and exhausted. His shoulder burned where he’d hit it, his head throbbed. He rolled onto his back, wincing.
Then he chuckled.
“Looks like we took a short cut, eh?”
“I dinnae ken if they can get down here,” Brogan agreed.
Alexander looked up. His sergeant had struggled upright, leaning against a tree. He rubbed his arm, his shirt sleeve stained at the elbow with dark mud stains.
“We need to find out, if they can.” Alexander replied grimly. He struggled up onto his knee, then stood, grunting as his back started to ache. Slowly, he walked to the edge of the trees, peering about them.
It was afternoon, though here the light was dimmed, filtered by the tall, leafy trees. It was quiet, too, but for the sighing of the breeze. Their pursuers, if they were still on the trail, had been left behind.
“We need to get out of here,” Alexander said, starting to stride to his left, where the forest seemed denser, away from the slope. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear a river. “We need to make sure they can’t see us.”
“They can’t see us down here,” Brogan put in. “Look at how thick the branches are up there.”
“We can’t risk it,” Alexander countered, still walking. “We were lucky they didn’t kill us already. Thanks,” he added.
“Thanks, to you, too, sir,” Brogan murmured. “You saved my life.”
“You saved mine,” Alexander said slowly. “So far, we’re even.”
They trudged on, heading towards the sound of the stream. The woods were silent. Alexander became aware of his strained breath, the sweat chilling his back, the ache in his foot and his knee. He must have twisted them, falling down the slope. He bit his lip and limped onward.
“Serves me right – I got us in this mess.”
He shook his head, pausing to brush a strand of damp hair out of his right eye. He’d had the fine plan to ambush the king while riding. It was his fault they were stuck here, now, one man less than they had been, wandering aimlessly about in the tree line, when they ought to have been back at the small, dry barn, planning their next move.
“Sir? When we reach the stream, what will we do?”
“Follow it back past the castle,” Alexander said briskly. “At least then we’ll know how to get home.”
He found his mind wandering back to the castle, and, from there, it went to Addie. He felt his loins ache as he remembered the night with her. How she’d been so trusting, so tender, as he’d taken her.
And now I’ve left and she’d a fallen woman.
He gritted his teeth in fury at his own stupidity. His own selfishness. How could he have done that? She was a respectable woman! He could have just ruined her entire life.
“If she has a bairn? What then..?”
His mind couldn’t take it in. He couldn’t simply disappear!
“If you die, you won’t have any choice, but to leave her,” he reminded himself harshly. It was yet another reason to live. He had to see her again. He had to be sure she would be safe.
“I intend to do the right thing by her.”
He swallowed hard. He was the son of a baron, but that only meant – to his mind, at least – that he had more power than most to do as he chose. If he wanted to, he could have a title invented for Addie McMurrie. He could pay his steward to invent some cunning tale about her origins, and then wed her and install her as his baroness.
“Why not, eh?” he shook his head.
Part of him was eager to do it, would enjoy flouting conventions. Another part of him thought it was a sure sign he was losing his wits.
She wouldn’t be accepted. She doesn’t know the first thing about being a baroness, and how could she? It’s not her fault, but it would be unfair to do that to anyone – let alone her.
He thought of Addie, those wild eyes and that cloak of red curls. She was an untamed creature! She was as different to the baronesses he had seen as a tame palfrey was from a wild horse. He couldn’t impose that on her!
“And then what?” he said aloud. “You’d abandon her, and her bairn? Leave them to be cast out on the roadway?”
He shook his head, shutting his eyes as if to shut out the very inkling.
He tensed. “Brogan?”
A cough betrayed the whereabouts of his sergeant – that, and a terrific bustle and crash as he worked his way through the underbrush.
“Brogan?” Alexander grinned, eyes still shut, listening.
“Aye?”
“You sound like a herd of cattle on the stampede.”
“Sorry, sir,” Brogan drew closer. He looked mortified.
Alexander grinned. “Don’t be. If they hear that, they’ll think there’s a shepherd down here, guiding his flocks. Or a bunch of wild animals. They won’t think it’s two humans.”
Brogan looked up; his big brown eyes hurt. “Fine, sir.”
Alexander squeezed his sergeant’s shoulder fondly. “It’s alright. I meant it. Just…go quieter, eh? And remember to stop if you reach the stream. I’ll find you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alexander fell into step close to him. He felt guilty for his admonishment. As if i
t wasn’t bad enough that he’d ruined a lass’ life that evening! He could restrain himself from dampening the spirits of his sergeant, too. The lad did save his life.
They reached the stream in late afternoon. It was probably four o’ clock, Alexander guessed, but down here, the light disappeared quickly. It was cold, and becoming dark already. He looked around, drawing his cloak tight around his shoulders.
“We can stop here,” he suggested. “Or follow the river up towards the castle.”
“The castle, sir,” Brogan said at once. “We ought to pass it now. When they won’t be out looking.”
“True,” Alexander nodded. He doubted immensely if they would be patrolling that close to the place – they were probably still following the road they’d been on. Or at least he hoped they were.
“We need to find a place to spend the night,” Brogan pointed out. “There’s some disused shacks in the trees, just down from there.”
“We can check them,” Alexander agreed.
While they sat there by the night stream, catching their breaths, a thought occurred to him. If they were going near the castle, it would be possible – surely it would be possible – to get word to Addie?
“I can just leave some details. Somewhere she can find me,” he muttered.
“What’s that, sir?”
Alexander ran a weary hand down his face. “Nothing, Brogan,” he said. “Just thinking aloud.”
“Very well, sir.”
Alexander closed his eyes, leaning back, arms linked around his knees. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. If she left, she could go to the manse – Raeburne Heights – and find his steward. Even if he wasn’t there himself, the man would see she was cared for till he arrived.
“Yes, that’s it.” He nodded. Much as it pained him, it was the best he could do – for now.
It was all he could give her, for the moment – but it was something, a chance.
IN HIDING
The wind whipped through Addie’s hair, even though she’d carefully wrapped a shawl over it to keep it from the elements. She shook her head, annoyed, and tried to focus on the washing line in front of her.
“By! This is a fell wind, eh?” a voice called from the other side of the dripping, laden line.
Addie nodded grimly.
Bonnie, her young friend, was also hanging out washing. It was a fine day to dry laundry, and most of the servants had seized the chance to give their own bedclothes a good cleaning. Addie shook out her pillowcase savagely, hearing the wet linen snap in the wind.
“Blasted windy days,” she swore.
Bonnie looked quite shocked. Addie instantly regretted her moodiness, but she couldn’t help it. Since Alexander had left – or, rather, since she had walked away from Alexander, from that magical place – she’d been angry. The hurt was lodged inside her and she couldn’t let it go. That didn’t mean she should be hurting others, and she felt guilty.
“It does dry things well,” she mitigated gruffly. Bonnie grinned.
“Aye! Plenty well, Addie. And I had need of it – my courses surprised me this month.”
Addie knew what she meant – that she’d bled onto the sheets. She nodded sympathetically. Inside, she felt a twisted knot of fear. If she didn’t have her courses, what would she do?
I’ll have to leave here, and find father’s uncle.
She couldn’t stay and work if she had a bairn – where would the child stay, while she was styling hair, sewing, or running errands all over the castle? Who would be there to ensure that he or she would be safe..?
She would have to find her relatives, and throw herself on their mercy. The thought was not pleasant. Her father’s kin were as unlike him as people could be – narrow-minded and suspicious.
“Could we go up to the river, later?” Bonnie asked. She looked up at Addie hopefully.
Addie felt flustered. “Um…mayhap,” she said carefully, not wanting to disappoint the girl. “I don’t think anyone should be going out of the castle at this time – it’s dangerous.”
Bonnie nodded slowly. “Aye. But Addie…”
“No,” Addie said swiftly. “It’s dangerous, Bonnie. We can think about it later. Aye? Now, I need to go.”
She turned away swiftly, before she could hear the girl’s reply.
“Now I’ve distressed her, too. Can I do nothing right?”
She walked with a heavy heart back to the castle.
Inside, she was heading up to the still room when she heard voices in the hallway. She stopped, listening. One of them was her friend, Mrs. Pritchard.
“…I ken ye need fresh yarrow, Glennon,” she was saying. “But I can’t come down to help…Lady Aberly is poorly and she needs me upstairs. Ye’ll have tae take what I have and wait until I can…”
“We’ll try,” the soldier interrupted, gruffly. Addie could just see them if she peered around the corner. Her friend’s back was to her, and the man stood in front of her, eyes hard and tense. “We have many wounded.”
“I know,” Mrs. Pritchard assured. “But I can’t make medicaments with leaves and roots I don’t have.”
Addie felt her heart pounding. Many wounded? What had happened. Was it Alexander? Had he been ambushed?
Her mind was racing, feeding her images of horror. Alexander was trapped. Alexander was badly wounded, lying out in the woods somewhere.
“I need to go.”
“Addie?” Mrs. Pritchard turned around, a look of relief on her face. “Just the person I wanted to see. I need some help. Mayhap ye can help me?”
Addie swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected to be spotted here, and she didn’t know what to say. “Um…mayhap,” she ventured.
A thought occurred to her, as Mrs. Prichard frowned. If she went to pick herbs in the forest, maybe she could slip away to the valley, where the river twisted round the foot of the incline? Maybe she could find Alexander! If he was wounded, at least she could help. If he’d been captured…
“I need somebody to pick yarrow for me,” Mrs. Pritchard was saying, as Addie struggled to focus. “You know where it grows – nobody else does. I can’t ask anyone else to fetch it. Could you?”
“Yes!” Addie almost yelled, excitedly. “Yes,” she added again, more gently. “I’d be glad to.”
“Thanks, Addie,” Mrs. Pritchard said, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.” She gave the soldier a hard look. “You can expect the salves by this afternoon, Glennon,” she nodded. “So, until then, go back to your fellows. You have my woundwort poultices for now.”
“Thanks, mistress.”
Addie would have been amused by the downcast response – her friend seemed too slight and soft-spoken to threaten a big, mail-clad soldier! Now, she was too much in a rush.
She ran to her chamber, grabbed her basket where it stood near the bed, and went outside.
The wind was still blustering, and she was glad of her sturdy wool shawl as she walked down the path to the wood’s edge. It was sheltered when she reached the tree line, and the sudden hush was eerie. The yarrow grew in a field not far from the castle, and she headed there first, planning to stop by the cave on the way back. At least if she was apprehended she could use the herb-gathering as an excuse.
The field was dark green under a fast moving cloud. Air, already damp with the rain, buffeted about her. The yarrow grew well this time of year, and she managed to collect a good amount of it. She finished as quickly as she could, then headed up to the path.
“Alexander?” she called, as she neared the river. “Alexander? Whist! It’s me.”
The clearing had a stillness that made her heart beat faster. Deserted, it seemed filled with a sorrowful air. She tiptoed towards the cave, fearing that she might find his body there, a tangled ruin below the leaves. Her heart thudded as she neared the cave entrance.
“I couldn’t bear it,” she murmured.
She had been with him just two days before, in this place. She was surprised by how much he
r heart ached, being back here. That was where they’d entered the clearing, arm-in-arm. There was where his companion had lit a fire. She could still see the faintest trace of ashes. She recalled, vividly, the feeling of Alexander’s hands on her, the feel of his kiss.
“Alexander?”
She investigated the clearing, but found nothing, save a tattered section of cloak. She lifted it and took it with her, eyes blurred. She wanted so badly to cry. What if he was dead? What if this was all she had, of him?
She walked back to the castle with unseeing eyes. At the wall, she tensed.
There! There’s something moving, out there near the side gate.
She blinked. Surely she was seeing things? Instinct made her step back, into the shelter of the tree line. She didn’t know why she felt afraid. She had no reason to fear the soldiers on patrol! All the same, she hung back, waiting.
She saw again the movement that had caught her eye. A quick darting motion, as if something, or someone, was peering round the side of the wall. Her eyes clung to the tall, ragged stone edge of the fortress. The walls were as tall as she was, and half her height again. The front wall perhaps twenty paces in length, with the great gate set to meet the roadway. The place she watched, the side gate, was just behind the big turret that guarded the corner.
There!
This time, she was sure of it. The thing she’d seen moving round the turret was a human shape. She saw a head, and broad shoulders. Then reddish hair. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared again.
No, she thought, mouth suddenly dry with terror. He wouldn’t have come here. He would have to be mad to risk himself so. Why would he be here, now, snooping round the fortress? Everything would surely point to how deadly that was? If he came here, he’d suffer the worst death imaginable.
“Alexander?” she whispered.
Nothing. The shape – if it had even been a person – did not appear again. Addie, blinking, shook her head. Mayhap she imagined the whole thing?
“I need to sleep. It’s been too long since I had a proper rest.”
Shaking her head, she stepped out of the shadow of the trees. Something grabbed her from behind. She screamed, struggling. She kicked out backwards. She heard someone swear. Then a voice she recognized, one that made her tingle everywhere, whispered in her ear.
The Highlander On The Run (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 1) Page 10