by Jenna Stone
Breathe, Kate, breathe. Pull yourself together.
I surveyed the stillness of the scene before me. The perpetrators were long gone, evidenced by the forest resuming its rhythmic chatter of chirping crickets and calling birds. These sounds of normalcy assured me that the likelihood of ambush by returning murderers was minimal. The sounds of the forest didn’t stop the small hairs from rising on the back of my neck.
There was nothing that could be done for these people. I looked down at my blackened, bloodied bare feet. My basic needs at the moment were food and clothes. Certainly I would be forgiven if I took some clothes from these poor people given my desperate circumstances. I planned to take the first thing that I found; even a blanket would do for covering up. I walked toward the coach with heightened senses, the crunch, crunch, crunch of the gravel beneath my feet was deadening. The door of the coach was ajar, and I forced myself to quell my nerves and walk towards it.
I peered inside the dark interior of the coach, eyes scanning the upholstered walls and bench seats which were facing each other. There was a pillow on the floor, and the cushions covering the benches were out of place, exposing the possibility of storage spaces underneath each bench seat.
I pushed the brown cushion aside and lifted the hinged top of the bench to expose the contents beneath. Without realizing, I had squeezed my eyes shut, horrified by what I was doing, but hoping so intently to find the clothes that I desperately need. I forced my eyes to open and found that indeed, luck was finally on my side today! Right on top I saw the bodice of an olive green dress with intricate stitching detail of brown flowers beneath the low neckline.
I carried the dress with me into the forest so that I could change away from the coach. I felt better with each step that carried me away from the murder scene. I clutched the dress against my chest in an effort to stop my hands from shaking from the shock of the murders. It didn’t work.
There was a rocky outcropping a good distance from the road, and I decided that it would suit for a dressing area. I stepped into the billows of the voluminous dress and pulled the bodice up about my breasts, holding its weight with my left arm, while my right hand reached behind me to struggle with cinching up the laces. With quite a bit of squirming and tugging, I reached both of my hands behind me to tie the laces into a secure bow, which I tucked into the folds of the skirt. Thanks to the lacings, this dress was adjustable in size and I cinched it into a perfect fit.
I surveyed my form as best I could, and took a few steps, noticing how the skirts swayed and swished as I moved about. I undid my pony tail, bent over and ran my fingers through my hair. I gathered it again at the base of my neck and secured it into a thick, auburn knotted ponytail. Strangely, I felt better. A lot better.
Feeling slightly more in control of my situation, and pleased that I would most likely not freeze to death, I trudged back to the road. I could now see the top of the ram- shackled carriage through the trees, and decided that as grisly as it would be, I should search the rest of the carriage for items that might be of use. I detested the thought of approaching the scene again but the growling of my stomach reminded me that there might be food within the carriage.
I remembered seeing a woolen blanket in the seat compartment next to the dress, and made a mental note to grab it when I searched the coach for useful items. It would make another cold night spent in the forest a bit more bearable.
The small hairs on the back of my neck stood in terror as I heard the voices.
I heard them just before I stepped from the shadows of the evergreen trees and into the dirt road. I stopped in my tracks, listening to the alarmed male voices and the clatter of horse hooves on the road. The blood was pumping in my veins, hammering in my ears. I turned and ran back into the forest as quickly as I could under the constraints of the dress. My breathing was ragged, and the skirts of the dress caught on twigs and branches, making my progress through the undergrowth less rapid that I would have hoped.
“Hey…..Stop!” shouted a male voice, I could hear him breaking through the branches behind me.
Whoever these people were, I didn’t want them to find me. I continued running through the forest, branches smacking me in the face in my haste, searching for a place to crouch down. The hairs on the back of my neck piqued. Instinct told me that these might be the same villains that killed the people with the carriage.
I didn’t even hear him close in on me. His hand clasped down hard around my wrist. A shot of pure terror went through my body. I screamed in a way that I didn’t even know was possible. The twin to the hand painfully restraining my wrist clapped down over my mouth to silence my protests. I used my teeth to bite at the large hand, and kicked my legs in vain at the body of my restrainer.
“Ouch, lass! Will ye not stop? Please?” he said with a grimace in his voice. He removed the hand from over my mouth and shook it to dissipate the pain of my bite.
“I don’t mean to hurt ye. Calm down,” he adjusted his grip on my wrist, and then brought his other arm around my middle, restraining me against the muscular wall of his body.
“You’re hurting me!” I exclaimed, feeling the sting of his grip where it had been on my left wrist. I stomped as hard as I could on the top of his right foot, but being that I was barefoot, my resistance was futile. Desperately, I brought my heel up hard into my assailant’s crotch with all of my might.
“Ye bitch!” he exclaimed. “Can ye not see that I’m trying to help ye?” The grip about my waist tightened, and the thundering of my adrenaline soaked heart pounded in my ears. “If I let ye go, will ye run?” he questioned.
His breath warm on my neck.
“No,” I responded, knowing that if I ran, he could easily catch me. I would be no match for him in this dress. I surrendered to the situation, having no choice but to do so. As if feeling my surrender, he released his grip about my waist, and turned me to face him.
“What’s yer name, lass?” he asked, bushy eyebrows drawn together as he blatantly appraised me, eyes scanning my frame from top to bottom.
I hesitated for a moment, terrified to be face to face with one of the Scottish barbarians that my father had described. The man’s accent was thick, and although we were speaking the same language, I had difficulty understanding his English.
I regained control of myself, now shaking only slightly. I decided that I might as well use my real name. My father’s ship was probably well up the coast already. There was no chance that people on land could have been alerted to my disappearance.
“I’m Kate,” I said simply, meeting his steely gaze by raising my eyes almost a foot. This man was huge and he towered above me.
“Oh, thank God, yer safe!” he exclaimed as he crushed my body to his in a bear hug, resting his chin on top of my head.
***
I soon learned that my captor’s name was Nathan, not through an introduction on his part, but from the shouts bellowing through the trees referring to him as such. He was an immense man with shoulder length mousy brown hair, and a pock marked face which he had tried to conceal beneath a thick beard.
“I’ve got her! Kate’s alive! She’s escaped this, don’t know how, but she has!” he bellowed through the trees in the direction of the coach.
“I’ll be damned,” was bellowed back by a deeper voice, and accompanied by the approving hoots of a few other men. “The Laird will be pleased!” another voice shouted from the coach.
Nathan’s hand was secure around my wrist as he led me, or rather drug me, through the trees back to the road. Terror coursed through my blood.
They had been expecting to find me.
A knot settled in my stomach and I felt as if I would be sick again.
I was pulled into the clearing of the road, and confronted with five large men, all clad in traditional Highland tartan. I inhaled sharply as I surveyed the scene. The men had stopped their work amongst the bodies and were all starting at me with looks of disbelief.
“Get her outta here!” barke
d a man with black hair and a beard that matched Nathan’s. “Have ye no care for the lass, Nate? These were her people. She canna see this!”
Reacting quickly, Nathan jerked my wrist in the opposite direction, and back into the trees we went. He picked me up and unceremoniously sat me on a fallen log, then crouched before me his eyes scanning my face.
“I’m sorry lass. I dinna mean tae pain ye anymore than what ye’ve already been through. Sometimes I forget that, well, that women folk are different. More sensitive, I guess.” He smiled sheepishly, offering both peace between us and some form of an apology.
“Where in the hell am I?” I asked.
He chuckled heartily. “I’d heard that ye were quite a lady, the Laird would have approved of ye I’m sure. Yer just on the border of the McClain lands, lass. Almost made it before, before…” his voice trailed off.
I knew that he was referring to the attack on the coach. Clearly he thought that I had been traveling with the group and had somehow escaped murder.
“How did ye escape, lass?” he asked, eyes inquisitive as they watched me.
“I don’t remember,” I lied easily, having decided that this was the best course of action to take.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes searched mine. “We should have set out tae meet ye sooner. We never thought that this could happen.” His huge hand grabbed mine, offering his best effort at consolation. “McClain is going to be seethin’ with anger when he finds out that ye were attacked so close tae the border. This willna be forgotten, lass. Mark my words.” His eyes were kind as he looked down at me but the vengeance in his voice was threatening.
Barbarians. My father’s words haunted me.
“Thank-you,” I replied uneasily. What was a proper response when it was believed that your companions were murdered and you were an unwitting imposter? I decided that it was best to limit the information I provided to these men until I had a firmer grasp on this precarious situation.
Confident that I would not run off into the forest, Nathan left me sitting on the log and went back to the road in search of some food. He returned with a hunk of bread and a small piece of cheese, which I devoured in a very unlady-like fashion and washed down with warm ale.
Nathan was a very amiable companion. I liked him at once even though I was doing my best to avoid entering into further conversation with him. I could tell that he was nervous in my presence and he was in possession of the characteristic of rambling on in meaningless conversation when faced with a situation in which he was uncomfortable.
As I quelled the growling of my stomach with bread and cheese, he rambled on about an array of topics ranging from the weather to the fine new horse that he had just acquired. He was quite animated as he spoke and I enjoyed watching his ever changing expressions and gestures that accompanied his thick Scottish brogue. The burr in his voice was intriguing.
I brushed the last crumbs of the bread from my skirt and wiped my mouth on the sleeve of my dress. Nathan certainly didn’t seem to be one of the barbarians that my father had described.
“Yer no at all what I had expected,” Nathan chuckled, studying my most unlady-like manners. “Being high born as ye are, I guess I expected ye tae be more snobbish and refined,” he nodded in approval as he started down at me with his big brown eyes.
I remained quiet, unsure of how to respond.
“Yer a damn sight more pretty than I expected ye tae be as well,” he divulged, giving what I thought to be a form of compliment. “Having met yer Da, I wouldna have expected ye tae be sae fair. Yer small boned as a bird. And yer hair, it’s the most beautiful, unusual color,” he added, leaning against a nearby tree as he looked down at me from beneath his bushy eyebrows.
I was embarrassed by his frank appraisal of my features, but worried about the fact that he knew the father of the other Kate whose identity I had inadvertently stolen. How long would it be before these men realized that I was not in fact the Kate that they thought me to be?
“Thank you,” I responded smiling sheepishly. I was accustomed to getting compliments about the unusual shade of my auburn hair. It was a shade somewhere in between red and brown, and had flecks of gold running through it that were more apparent in the direct sunlight. I had always thought that the color of my hair was a rare blessing. It not only set me apart from other girls, but it was stunning against the contrast of my pale skin, and really highlighted the blue of my eyes. Yes, my hair was my favorite feature, and I was for some reason glad that Nathan liked it too.
“You’re not what I expected either,” I said half-smiling as I looked up at Nathan.
“And just what did ye expect?”
“Barbarians,” I said, now suddenly embarrassed by my admission. I felt my face flush with color.
“Hmmph,” he grumbled. “I hope that ye’ll be pleasantly surprised, lass. The damn English never give us much in the way of compliment.”
“I hope so too,” I muttered in response, hoping that the Scotsmen would not be as terrible as my father had described them to be.
Nathan stepped forward and offered me his hand, helping me up from the fallen log. “I think that it’s time for us tae be going, lass. Follow me,” he said, huge hand supporting me at the elbow and leading me through the trees back towards the road. The sinking feeling in my stomach reappeared at the prospect of looking at the dead people again.
When we reached the edge of the road we encountered a much different scene. The coach had been hitched up to two horses, and one of Nathan’s comrades was sitting in the driver’s seat, reigns in hand. I couldn’t help but notice the three mounds of freshly turned earth on the side of the road. Evidence of what had become of the victims of this heinous crime.
I quickly looked away from the graves. I in haled sharply and drew my line of sight back to the coach. Nathan stepped forward and opened the door of the coach, then looked at me with an outstretched hand and invited me inside.
“No!” I balked, surprised by the emotion in my voice. The thought of riding in that coach, where three people had just been murdered was insane.
Nathan quickly shut the door. His eyebrows raised in shock as he interpreted my response.
“Come on, lass. Ye can ride with me. It’s na far,” he strode over to a large black horse and untied its reins from a low branch on a tree at the edge of the road. The horse whickered in response to his master and seemed eager to be going. Nathan mounted the horse in one swift movement, and then held a hand down to me. I grabbed Nathan’s huge hand, and he hoisted me upwards, settling me onto his lap. There was a chill in the late evening air and he unfastened the cloak from around his shoulders and settled it about mine.
The coach had already lurched forward down the road, followed by the three other large men on horseback.
“I’m glad yer safe, lass, and I’m sorry for what ye saw today. Rest now; it’s just a short bit of a ride.”
His warm hand gently pushed my head against his massive chest as he kicked the horse into motion. I gave into his invitation, and found that the rhythmic motion of the horse’s stride soon lulled me into a calmer state. My body had been thrumming with adrenaline from the moment that I awoke this morning, nearly naked and alone in the forest.
I am mine. I chanted over and over in my head as I let exhaustion overtake me. I will decide my own fate.
Chapter Two
“We’re here, lass,” Nathan said, gently shaking my shoulder. I had fallen asleep, and I mentally scolded myself for letting my guard down to such a degree given my present circumstances. I had trouble waking from my sleepy haze. Trouble reconciling where I was.
As my mind came crashing back to reality, my eyes flew open to see large stone walls rise before me, glowing silvery in the moonlight. There were two sentries posted beside a large wooden door, each man holding a lethal looking sword. These massive men were also dressed in traditional Scottish clothing, red plaids striped with green and black gathered with large broaches at their shoulders. Most of t
he men that I had encountered had beards and long hair, giving them a frankly barbaric look. The guards moved in unison each opening one of the massive doors to allow us entry to the castle.
“Where are we?” I asked, suddenly fearful.
“The keep, lass. Castle McClain. This is tae be yer home.” Nathan said, guiding his horse through the gate.
Nathan’s words struck fear into my core. I dug my fingernails into the leather of the saddle, fighting off the sense of panic rising in my stomach. I needed to find a way out of here and made mental notes of my surroundings, marking exits and starting an inventory of ways to escape. I vowed to escape when the first opportunity presented itself. I had just escaped one trap and been thrown directly into another.
A teenage boy ran to greet us, gangly as a string bean, awkwardly grabbing the reins of Nathan’s horse. Nathan dismounted swiftly still carrying me in his arms.
“Can ye walk? Ye’ve been sleeping a long time,” Nathan said in a soft caring voice.
After our initial encounter in the forest I had decided that I liked Nathan very much, with his bushy beard and eyebrows and kind brown eyes. I could tell from the manner in which Nathan spoke to me that not only did he like me in return, but he had taken on the role of my protector, having bonded with me in the forest. I was glad that it had been Nathan who had found me rather than one of the other brutes that traveled with us. They seemed indifferent to me, and were not only unfriendly, but their actions indicated that I was a burden to them.
“Sure,” I said, testing the strength of my legs, keeping one hand on Nathan’s arm for support. I stretched, taking in the scene around me. The stone walls loomed high above my head and my heart sank as I scanned the walls for possible exits. There were none that I could see. It appeared as if there was only one way into this castle, and one way out.