by Gwyn Brodie
"Give the Campbell guards but half now," she whispered, "once we are a safe distance away, give them the rest."
"Aye, m'lady," Angus said, then returned to his post. As planned, he passed the pouch to James, her other guard, who quickly left the great hall headed for the stables, where it had been agreed they would all meet.
With everything in place, all she could do now was to wait until nightfall when she, along with Inna and her two guards, would leave Clifftower Castle—and Archibald Campbell—far behind.
Even though she wasn't hungry, Sorcha filled her trencher with food and ate her fill. She'd need her strength for the journey home. She looked out over the great hall. The room blurred as tears filled her eyes. Her life at Clifftower hadn't turned out the way she'd expected when she agreed to marry Archibald, nor had he turned out to be the man she imagined.
Sorcha blinked to clear her vision. She prayed that Archibald would not return, but it was not to be. With a heavy heart, she watched him stroll back into the room and make his way toward her.
When he arrived at the table, instead of taking his seat beside her, he offered her his arm. "Come, Sorcha, 'tis time for us to retire to our bedchambers."
A sudden wave of fear washed over her. She hesitated a moment before taking hold of his arm. She didn't trust him.
On the upper level, they stopped in front of her bedchamber. Archibald smiled and opened the door, then stepped aside and waited for her to enter the room.
He's up to something, a small voice inside her head warned. She stood in the corridor, heart thumping hard against her ribs, too terrified to move. Sorcha had no doubt that he would force himself upon her once he had her alone in her bedchamber.
His smile faded and his eyes narrowed. "Sorcha, go inside," he ordered, a dangerously sharp edge to his voice.
She shook her head.
He grabbed hold of her shoulders and tried to push her through the doorway.
She dug in her heels and held on to the doorframe, trying desperately to escape his grasp. "Nay, Archibald, leave me be until after we're wed," she begged, hoping to buy herself more time. She couldn't return to Blackstone with a bastard child growing in her belly. If that should happen, she'd be forced to return to Clifftower and marry Archibald.
"Nay, I'll not, for I've waited long enough to have you." He shoved her into the room and she had to grab hold of the bedpost to keep from falling onto the floor.
He slammed the door closed behind them.
"M'lady?" Inna squeaked from her pallet beside Sorcha's bed.
At least she wasn't alone.
"Get out!" Archibald shouted at the wide-eyed girl.
"Nay, Inna, stay where you are," Sorcha ordered the terrified maid.
Inna didn't move.
He sneered. "I'll leave you be for now, but once the wedding takes place, you'll no longer have a choice, no matter how many servants are about." Before she had time to move away, he grabbed her arm and yanked her against his chest, then brought his mouth down hard against her own, brutally kissing her until she tasted blood. Then he turned and left the bedchamber, slamming the door behind him.
She quickly slid the bolt into place and leaned her head against the oak door, uttering a silent prayer of thanks. She'd come so close to being compromised, but somehow managed to come through it unscathed—except for her bruised lips. She hoped her luck held out. Ignoring the pain, she rubbed her mouth on the back of her sleeve until it burned, hoping to rid herself of his vile taste.
Inna jumped up from her pallet. "M'lady," she whispered. "That man is truly a beast, with a heart as black as the devil's doublet."
"Aye, he is at that, Inna, but once we return to Blackstone, all will be well. Alex will see to it. We must leave this place with only what we can carry. When the moon is high, and the castle residents are deep in sleep, one of the Campbell guards will summon us. We are to go with him to the stables, where Angus and James will be waiting for us. Now, help me into my green wool. 'Tis truly my warmest dress."
Inna helped Sorcha off with her bodice.
The little maid gasped and covered her mouth, tears sparkling in her brown eyes. "M'lady, what has he gone and done to ye now?"
Sorcha held out her arms and took a good look at herself. Her arms, shoulders and below her elbows, were dotted with bruises, some a few days old and fading, others, more recently inflicted. Indentions where Archibald had dug his nails into her skin remained as a reminder of what a ruthless man he really was. She could only guess at the discolorations covering her back. Anger warmed her skin as she slipped off her skirt and reached for the green wool. He'd never hurt her again. She'd make sure of it.
Inna said naught else as she helped Sorcha finish dressing.
After extinguishing the candles, Sorcha and Inna slipped on their cloaks and sat quietly on the edge of the bed, waiting for the Campbell guard to arrive.
As time dragged on, a needle of panic pricked at Sorcha. Just when she began to fear that the guards had changed their minds, there came two soft knocks upon the door. She opened it but a crack to make certain 'twas the guard who waited there and not Archibald.
Arlyn, a lanky young man with a mass of red curls, stood alone in the corridor. He licked his lips and his gray eyes darted back and forth. He knew what would happen, should his laird learn of his betrayal. He motioned for the two women to follow him and they quietly stepped out into the corridor, making certain the door was closed behind them. The guard led them through many twists and turns, before they were finally outside the castle.
A gust of night air cooled her skin. Sorcha shivered and drew her cloak tightly around her as they hurried to the stables where Angus and James waited with their horses saddled.
"We must hurry, m'lady," Angus whispered, first lifting her and then Inna onto their mounts, before swinging upon his own.
James motioned toward the two Campbell guards. "They'll be riding with us until we leave Campbell lands, m'lady," he said, keeping his voice low. "Only then will they be getting the rest of their payment."
Sorcha nodded. She trusted James and Angus to ken what was best. They'd been in her father's garrison long before they were her brother's guards.
They rode into the outer bailey, where a third Campbell guard swung open the postern gate and the six of them hurried through.
Sorcha looked up at the starry night sky. The moonlight illuminating the countryside could be either a Godsend or a risk. Though they'd be able to see, they could just as easily be seen.
Until they were no longer in sight of Clifftower, Sorcha hardly dared to breathe. Her heart pounded and hands trembled as she gripped the reins of her mare. If Archibald found out—God help them all.
The small party rode in silence for many miles before the Campbell guards brought their horses to a halt. "We've reached the edge of Campbell land. We'll be needing the rest of our payment now."
James reached into his belt, then tossed the remainder of the coins to one of the guards.
Angus maneuvered his horse next to Sorcha's, with his hand wrapped around the hilt of his broadsword, ready for any sign of treachery.
"Much thanks for your help," she said.
"You're welcome, m'lady. In truth, we were glad to assist ye. It didn't get past us how poorly the laird treated ye. Farewell and Godspeed," he said before the two of them turned their horses about and headed back the way they'd come.
Sorcha watched them go and whispered a prayer that their involvement in her escape would remain hidden. Archibald would surely have them killed if he ever found out.
Angus watched after them, until the sound of their hoof beats faded away, before they continued onward. "M'lady, we must no' stop unless 'tis necessary. With but the two of us to protect ye, I'm afraid we'd no' be of much use against Campbell's entire garrison. Once we reach MacPherson land, then we can rest."
"Aye, I agree. You ken what is best, Angus."
They rode on in silence, using the light of the moon to guide them.
In the surrounding wood, shadows appeared to be watching them. And even though Sorcha knew it was her imagination, she still shivered. She would be glad when daylight arrived.
***
Archibald opened his eyes and yawned. The first light of morning had slipped into his bedchamber. He turned over and looked at the unclothed servant girl, half his age, still asleep beside him.
After storming out of Sorcha's room the previous night, he'd gone directly to the servants' quarters and dragged Aggie from her pallet and to his bedchamber. A good slap across her face had ceased her pleading, and she had complied with his wishes the rest of the night. His gaze leisurely traveled over her youthful body. He reached out to cup one of her ample breasts, when a knock sounded at the door.
Irritated at being interrupted, he cursed beneath his breath as he got out of bed and unbolted the door. "Whatever 'tis, it'd better be important enough to be worth disturbing me," he said to the three guards standing in the corridor.
Lon, the youngest of them, glanced past Archibald at the bed, where the sleeping Aggie lay exposed. His face reddened and he tore his gaze away.
A wave of satisfaction washed over Archibald. He'd seen the lad talking to the lass on several occasions in the great hall. He'd not be wanting her now. Not after what Archibald had done to her—and had her do.
"M'laird, Lady Sorcha has disappeared." Replied Garreth Campbell, Archibald's nephew, and a longtime burr in his side. He'd caught Garreth watching Sorcha on more than one occasion. The lad no doubt wanted her for himself, but he'd not have her.
"What do you mean, she's disappeared?"
"The lady, her servant, and the two MacPherson guards—they're all gone."
A knot formed in Archibald's gut. "Search the entire castle, the keep and the stables. Then go to the village and seek them out. Afterward, report back to me."
"Aye, m'laird."
Archibald stepped back into his bedchamber and closed the door. If his men were unable to find Sorcha and the others there, or in the village, it meant but one thing. She'd headed back to Blackstone to convince her brother to break their marriage contract. If that happened, Archibald would lose the land that came along with Sorcha's dowry. And there was no way in hell he intended to allow that to happen.
He glanced over at Aggie, his earlier desire had vanished at the news of Sorcha's disappearance. He walked to the bed and shoved the sleeping servant girl out, eliciting a cry as her naked body hit the cold floor.
She jumped up and grabbed her clothing, a dark bruise marring her cheekbone. Too frightened to even look at Archibald, she rushed to dress.
"Get out!" he said, holding open the door.
Aggie managed to pull on her shift on her way across the room.
"I said, get out!" He shoved her though the doorway, then slammed it closed behind her. He poured himself a dram of whisky and took a seat on the settle beside the fire. How dare Sorcha defy him? Once he found her, she'd regret the trouble she'd caused him. He'd make certain of it.
***
Sorcha and her party had been riding for many hours when the first light of morning streamed across the valleys and glens, dusting the mist rising from the nearby loch with gold.
Several feet ahead, James brought his horse to a halt. "'Tis as good a place as any to rest for a spell and to give the horses time to drink. We've been pushing them hard, m'lady."
Sorcha nodded and brought her own mare to a standstill.
Angus' narrowed gaze continued to scan the countryside as he dismounted.
James helped her and Inna dismount, then led all of the horses to the water's edge.
Sorcha's back ached and her legs refused to cooperate. And she wasn't alone, judging by the way poor Inna held her own back as she staggered toward the loch. The two women knelt a short distance away from the horses, and after quenching their thirst, returned to where Angus waited.
"How long before we reach MacPherson lands?" Sorcha asked, hoping it wasn't much farther.
"We did, m'lady, a short while ago, but we've at least a two hour ride before we reach Blackstone. I'm afraid I've naught for ye to break yer fast. I thought it too dangerous to involve any more of Campbell's people in our escape."
"You were right to think so, Angus." Sorcha glanced about the clearing. "There are plenty of berries here. They'll suffice until we reach Blackstone. I'm very much looking forward to having a hot bowl of Cook's venison stew."
James chuckled. "Och, as am I, m'lady," he said, keeping an eye on the horses.
With Angus diligently watching for any sign of danger, Sorcha and Inna picked enough berries for them each to have a few.
Once the horses drank their fill and the four of them had eaten the berries, they remounted and continued on. The morning sun soon melted away the damp mist and the countryside opened up before them like some magical realm. Sorcha's spirits soared like the eagle circling in the cloudless blue sky above. She'd be sleeping in her own bedchamber that very night. Even Inna had a hint of a smile on her cherub face. They were all glad to be rid of the likes of Clifftower Castle and Archibald Campbell.
A branch snapped close by. Angus went for his broadsword as shouts rang out on either side of them.
Highwaymen! Sorcha slipped her hand into her bodice and slid her sgian dubh from its sheath.
Her guards put the women between them, their gazes locked on the dense wood.
Four highwaymen rode out of the underbrush, swords raised. "Toss down yer weapons," said a man with a mane of thick black hair. And judging by the way he barked orders to the others, he was the leader of the band of outlaws.
Angus glared at him. "Be on yer way," he said, his broadsword held high and ready to do battle, if need be.
The man chuckled. "Don't be a fool. Ye're outnumbered. Lower your weapons. We'll take what we want and then leave."
"Och, yer kind is never to be trusted," Angus snarled, moving his horse toward the man.
The other three highwaymen rushed Angus, and James quickly joined the battle.
The air filled with Inna's shrill screams, strikes of steel on steel and steel on wood, as blow after blow was diverted by her guard's targes. But the four outlaws quickly got the upper hand and held a blade to each of her guard's throats. Blood trickled from a gash across James' arm and dripped onto the back of his horse.
"Drop yer weapons and ye'll live another day. Refuse and they'll slice open yer throats," the leader said, dismounting.
Angus reluctantly tossed his sword into the grass and James followed suit. "I'm counting on ye being a man of yer word," Angus said, which brought a wide grin to the man's face and sent the other highwaymen into a bout of laughter.
A second man dismounted, while the other two stayed astride keeping a close eye on Angus and James. "What are ye going to do with them, Duglas?" he asked the man in charge.
"Och, keep yer mouth shut, ye fool. Now they ken who I am." He glanced over at Sorcha and she drew her hood down lower over her face.
Duglas walked over to Sorcha's horse and peered up at her, then a lustful grin spread across his ruddy face. "What a bonny lass ye are," he said, then grabbed her.
Chapter Three
A high-pitched scream echoed through the valley. Galen, Cinead and Duncan instinctively turned their horses away from the path and into the wood, then dismounted. Galen motioned for the two of them to circle around to the other side, while he slipped into the underbrush to survey the situation.
Four highwaymen had attacked a small party consisting of two women and two men, husbands or perhaps guards. Apparently, they'd been taken by surprise, since their weapons lay on the ground near their horses' feet.
One highwayman appeared to be bent on dragging a female from her horse. Galen was unable to see her face because of the dark cloak covering her head. Since 'twas obvious from the way the other woman dressed that she was a servant, the one being accosted had to be someone of importance.
"Leave the lady alone," shouted one of the men with her.
"Take whatever ye wish, but leave her be." When the highwayman ignored his pleas and grabbed her leg, the man kicked his horse forward, but one of the other highwaymen brought the hilt of his sword across his head, preventing his advance and nearly knocking him from his horse.
"Don't go trying anything yerself," the highwayman said to the second man. "Ye might not be so lucky as that one."
So the men were her guards.
Somehow, the lady managed to stay mounted and kicked her would-be abductor in the chest. She slashed at him with her sgian dubh, but missed. "Stay away from me," she screamed, making another slice through the air.
The lass was fierce, the way she went at the man with her blade.
She hacked through his sleeve, and blood soaked into the fabric of his shirt.
He cursed loudly. " Damn ye, wench, I'll teach ye a lesson ye'll not soon be forgetting," Catching her wrist, he twisted until she cried out in pain. Her fingers opened and her weapon dropped to the ground. He reached for her, then staggered backwards when she kicked him square in the jaw.
She kneed her mare forward, but he grabbed her reins. With a deep growl, he seized her waist and set her on the ground. During their struggle, the hood of her cloak slipped from her head.
And for a moment, Galen stopped breathing.
Curls, the red of an autumn leaf, spilled over her shoulders. Her pink lips, the shade of a rose petal, stood out against her alabaster skin. She was not only beautiful, but strikingly so.
"Ummmh," the highwayman said, licking his lips. His lust was clearly written on his dirty face. Then he captured both her wrists, and proceeded to pull her toward the wood.
"Get yer filthy hands off of her," the older guard shouted, as he struggled to get free. A highwayman struck him across the head again. Blood trailed down his face and dripped from his chin.
During the commotion, the second guard moved a few feet in the lady's direction, before finding a blade pressed to his throat.