by Barbara Bard
An unsettling feeling ran through her, and she knew she had to move away quickly. The fear of being discovered seized her heart, so she turned and walked away, only for a loud crack to pierce the air. Catherine closed her eyes and grimaced for she felt the cracked stick beneath her foot.
“Who gaes there?” the man called. Catherine instantly dropped the torch she was carrying and ran away, but she felt the man close in on her quickly. Two hands with iron-like grips were around her shoulders, grabbing her back. She struggled.
“Unhand me, you brute!” she cried.
“Oh boys, we hae ourselves an Sassenach lass! Can ye believe it!”
“What is an Sassenach lass daeing out in the woods this late at night? Dae ye think it’s one of the McCall’?” another of them shouted.
“It cannae be. They would never let them out of their sight. Nay, this must be a stray left from the army. Well, lads, its time for us tae get our spoils of war!”
The men got up with wolfish grins, rubbing their hands together as they stood to welcome Catherine to their little camp. There were three of them, each one of them more ugly and ravenous than the last. They were grimy and dirty. The stench of alcohol was heavy among them, and the bones of a carcass were left upon the fire that burned in the middle of their camp. Catherine was thrown down to the ground near the fire, so near that she could feel its heat upon her face.
“Who are ye?” one of the men asked. All of them were looking at her with curiosity, their eyes roving about her body. Catherine felt entirely at the mercy of these men and she suddenly wished that she had remained in the castle. She pushed herself up and smoothed out her skirt, trying to avoid the gazes of these men. She couldn't help but think that Declan had never looked at her in this manner.
Summoning all the courage she could muster, Catherine replied in a stern voice, remembering a lesson her father had given Harold once, that it was always important to hold your head high and never show weakness, for that is the moment you have lost the battle.
“I am a guest of the McCalls. I demand that you take me back to their castle for I am lost,” she said, hoping that the fear of the McCalls would prevent them from doing what was so obviously on their minds. Catherine had been protected and sheltered, but she was not naive and was aware of how evil men could be.
If there was any other way she would not have admitted that she had been living in the castle, but she would prefer to be taken back to that place rather than stay out here a moment longer.
However, the men all laughed.
“Ach, ye are one of their guests! Ye would have been better nae saying that. We dinnae hae any love for the McCalls.”
Catherine looked at them with curiosity. “What do you mean? Aren't you Highlanders just like them?” she said, measuring the possibility of escape as she spoke. The forests were dark, and if she was fortunate and quick on her feet she may be able to give them the slip. They had drunk a lot, so although they were faster and far more accustomed to this life than she was she thought that she might have a chance.
The men spat on the ground.
“We are naething like them! They are strong, and we fought with them because we wanted to fight the Sassenach, but they are weak in other ways and their time shall come.”
The man who had first noticed her spoke this, and his words chilled her to the bone. Without a moment's hesitation she spun on her heels and moved as quickly as she could, but it was to no avail. Despite their state, the men were able to clasp their hands on her and drag her back.
“If ye are gaeing tae make this difficult we hae ways of keeping you here,” he said.
Catherine writhed and struggled, but she could not break free of their grip. They tugged her down to the ground. One of them got some heavy twine, which he used to tie her to the thick trunk of a tree. Catherine whimpered, wailed, and screamed. Nobody came to her aid. It was a strange thing for her to admit, but she had fled from the only people who stood a chance at saving her.
Eyes wide with panic, she turned her gaze from one man to the other. Each one of them looked at her with lust in their eyes, and her worst fears were becoming realized. Out here, in the wilderness, there was nothing and nobody that could save her from this most evil and wretched fate. Catherine was entirely helpless, far from home, without any family to count upon. These brutes could do whatever they liked with her, and she was certain that she was about to come to a sorry end.
Sorrow and pain welled up inside her, but she remained defiant. Catherine breathed deeply and vowed that she would not show any sign of weakness, for that was surely what these men wanted. They taunted her as they kept her tied up, and went back to their fire, talking among themselves. The amount of alcohol they had drunk made their lips loose, and Catherine listened with interest to what they had to say, for their conversation mostly revolved around the McCalls. And Catherine hoped that they would never stop talking, for that would mean they would use her for entertainment.
“Finally, we hae a chance tae get back at them,” one of the men said. Through the course of their conversation she learned that the man who had first captured her was called Angus, and the other two were Clyde and Sloan.
“Aye, can ye believe they would hae taken those Sassenach lasses as their women? They are nae better than pigs, and should be treated as such,” Clyde said.
“Dae ye think this is one of them? I never got a good look,” Sloan said, tossing a glance in Catherine's direction.
“I dinnae think sae, but either way they will be wanting tae keep her there. Who knows what secrets she learned,” Angus said, a gleam in his eye that was made all the more threatening by the reflection of the fire that glowed within them.
“What are ye thinking, Angus? I know that face of yours, ye are scheming,” Clyde said.
“Well, I was thinking we'd have our fun and then leave her here tae die, but maybe she would be more useful if we took her with us,” Angus said.
“As long as ye dinnae gae soft and fall in love with her like those McCall fools,” Sloan said. Angus spat at his feet.
“How dare ye say something like that! Ye know I would never be as foolish as them. I cannae believe how they could betray our own people like that. Did they nae see how many Highlanders were killed in the battle! We should hae continued hunting them down, and ye know I am right. The Sassenach will think we're weak now. They will come back, ye can be sure of that. But when they dae we shall be ready. They may be nae sae eager tae attack when they know we hae one of their lasses with us,” Angus said.
“Dae ye think she is really sae important? She dinnae look sae special tae me,” Clyde said.
“Nae, she lacks the firm thighs of a true Highland lass, but the Sassenach have strange tastes,” Angus said. “We'll take her back home and ask her some questions. And if she disnae answer, we'll just twist her until she does.”
Catherine did not like the sound of that at all. Being at the mercy of these brutes was perhaps the worst fate that could have befallen her. She looked desperately around in the darkness, searching for a beacon of hope, but nothing presented itself. She was completely alone, and there was nothing she could do. The ropes were biting into her wrists and the ache in her throat was becoming harder to deal with. She didn't want to engage with her captors at all, but she knew that if she didn't drink she would faint, and losing consciousness at this moment in time seemed like a bad idea.
“I need a drink,” she said sharply, losing all pretense of manners. Appearing submissive and accommodating would not do her any good at all, and these men had done nothing to earn her courtesy.
“Ye can drink when we say ye can drink,” Angus said, barely turning his head towards her.
“I need a drink,” Catherine repeated. “If you do not give me a drink then I am likely to die, and I am going to be of no use to you. It seems simple common sense that if you want to keep me for a prisoner you need to keep me alive. It's a wonder how the Highlanders ever won a battle,” she said, the last few w
ords being muttered under her breath. The forest was so quiet that the Highlanders could still hear it though, and Angus took offense.
He rose and stalked over to Catherine, his ugly, twisted face with its crooked nose staring down at her.
“What did ye say, lass?”
“Nothing,” Catherine muttered.
“Typical Sassenach, always cowardly,” he said, and then brought a water-skin to her lips. She gulped down eagerly, wanting to get as much as she could before Angus pulled it away, which he did so before she had had her fill. Still, the refreshing water immediately made her feel better, and she was able to take stock of her situation and prepare for the time ahead, for she wasn't about to give up and surrender to her fate. There would be a way out of this situation, just as there had been a way out of her previous capture. All she had to do was be patient and wait for the opportunity to present itself.
“I'd like some food as well,” she said, the pangs of hunger in her stomach becoming more and more frequent.
“Is there anything else ye'd like? Ye'd think ye were our guest, not our prisoner,” Angus said, shaking his head. It seemed as though she had pushed him too far, and he wasn't going to grant this request.
The men continued to sit around the fire, but they seemed to be getting sleepier and Catherine was glad when they fell unconscious. She breathed a little easier, but dared not fall asleep herself. She needed to keep her faculties about her in case one of them awakened and decided that he wanted to indulge a vile desire.
Catherine shuddered at the thought of what these men could do with her if they so wished. As she was tied up to this tree she was completely helpless, but even if they untied her she wasn't sure what she could do. Having never been trained in any form of combat because it wasn't something a lady did, Catherine was unsure how she could defend herself. The light from the fire illuminated the area around her and she could see a number of stones and sticks that could prove to be useful, but they were hardly reliable weapons.
The men began to snore. Catherine dwelt on her predicament, wondering if she would ever see her home again. Then she chastised herself for thinking in such a manner. She had to believe that she would escape and return home, to see her father again. She was sure he would be proud of how she conducted herself, and at least she would return home alive, unlike her brother. Perhaps it would even show him that she had great fortitude of her own and he would allow her to choose her own husband.
Catherine felt her eyes growing tired but she did not sleep herself, for the hunger and fear kept her awake. She listened to the noises of the forest, listening out for a sign of anyone else so that she could call for help, but there was nobody else around. She laughed bitterly at how unfortunate it had been for her to come across these men in the forest, when there must have been acres and acres that were completely devoid of life.
The hours passed and the night gave way to the sun. Through the gaps in the trees the golden light broke through in shafts, and the camp fire the Highlanders had made died out, turning to ash. The morning was warm, and Catherine had a better sense of the forest now that it was bathed in daylight.
Still she struggled, and still her restraints did not give way.
The men eventually stirred around the same time, and by this time Catherine's stomach was raging. She watched with envy as the men picked up some meat that was left over from the previous night's meal and tore at it with their teeth. Angus seemed to delight in teasing her, and Catherine's enmity for him grew. She was determined to see an end to him one way or another before she was through with this life.
Angus, Sloan, and Clyde didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to leave. They pottered around the camp fire and stretched lackadaisically, seemingly unconcerned about her well-being. In fact, they barely paid her any attention, which struck her as strange. It seemed like only a matter of time though, and every moment that passed was fraught with tension.
The sun had been high in the sky for a few hours now and finally the men were getting ready to leave. Now that the veil of night had been lifted Catherine saw that they had a cart with them, and she would most likely be lumped in the back with all their supplies.
“Now then, before we leave, we'd better get tae know our prisoner properly,” Angus said. He grinned greedily. Catherine's heart sank. The color drained from her face and she struggled desperately as Angus approached, hoping that fate would allow her the opportunity to escape.
“Why dae ye always get tae gae first, Angus?” Clyde said.
“Because I'm the smartest one here. Dae as ye are told, ye can get yer turn after I'm done,” Angus growled. When he came to Catherine she could smell the animal lust on him, the hot fetid breath, the heavy stench of dirt and grime. His skin was sallow, with a shade of yellow. His eyes were beady, his teeth black.
“Ye are gaeing tae know what it is like tae be part of the Highlands now, lass,” he said, his breath wheezing across her skin. He untied the restraints and placed a heavy hand upon her shoulder, dragging her across the ground. Catherine wailed and scrambled against the ground, screaming at the top of her lungs as she reached out to try and find a weapon. Angus's grip was inexorable. Her life seemed to flash before her eyes and Catherine didn't know what she had done to deserve this.
Distraught, she closed her eyes, trying to blink back the tears so that she didn't give Angus the satisfaction of seeing her weep.
“Unhand her,” another voice said sternly. A voice she recognized. She opened her eyes and blinked to clear her blurred vision, and then a smile broke out upon her face. Declan was standing there, like a hero out of some kind of story. She never thought she'd be glad to see him, but he was her savior, and he'd arrived in the nick of time.
Chapter 10
Declan's mind was in a whirl as he left the castle behind and galloped through the forest. The chances of finding Catherine were low, for she could have gone in any direction. The only hope he had was to keep going south, but even then he had to hope that Catherine hadn't gone the wrong way, for she had left in the dark and was not accustomed to these woods.
The thought of coming back empty-handed was an unpalatable one. If he was responsible for Catherine's escape Drew and Blair would never forgive him. He'd scour these forests for days, weeks if he had to, just to find the errant girl.
But there was another force driving him, a force that he didn't quite understand, and wasn't quite ready to acknowledge. He wanted to bring Catherine back because he was worried about her. Part of him felt...not betrayed, but dismayed that she had escaped, especially after what had happened at the feast. He was not quite sure how it happened, but despite being fawned over by many different girls, the only strong memory of the evening had been dancing with her.
The feeling of having her in his arms had been unlike anything he had experienced before. Seeing the sheer joy upon her face made her into a different person. For most of their interactions she had been surly and scowling, but at the feast she had been an enchanting presence. If only she wasn't Sassenach, he mused, but there was little he could do about that.
There had definitely been some tension, some inexplicable energy between the two of them, and Declan wanted to explore more. It was an entirely confusing thing for he had been so against the Sassenach, and yet here he was, drawn to Catherine. It was frustrating that he could not get her off his mind, so he wanted to find her again just so he could get to the bottom of this mystery and figure out how exactly Sassenach girls had so much sway over Highlanders.
Part of him even wondered if there had been some sly spell Catherine had cast upon him that made him have the lapse of judgment that led to her escape, but he found that he could not lay the blame for that anywhere else but at his own feet. He had been distracted, his head dazed by the sweet words they had shared, by the way her heart-shaped face had been tilted up at him and he had looked into those youthful, sparkling eyes.
It was enough to quicken his heart.
Declan inhaled deeply to compose
himself. The last thing he needed was to suffer ill effects again.
Another consideration that played upon his mind was that Catherine had taken advantage of his mistake to escape. It was an opportunistic thing to do, and he wondered if he would do the same thing in her place. She had to have known that it would reflect badly on him, but then he supposed that her desire to escape and return to England overrode anything else.
It was a daring escape certainly, but most likely futile. The chances of her actually making it back to England alive were small. The best chance she had for survival was for Declan to find her and bring her back, even though she would not be happy about it.
He rode through the forest in as straight a line as he was able, traveling at a moderate speed so that he could keep an eye out for any sign of movement. Although Catherine had shown herself quite capable of dancing, there was a good chance that she could fall foul of a wild animal. Even now she may be desperately clinging to life.
Declan had armed himself before he had left, and his trusty sword dangled from his side, resting against the flank of his horse. The morning was cool and calm, and eventually he heard a noise.