Our Shared Horizon (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 10)

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Our Shared Horizon (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 10) Page 7

by Diana Knightley


  I spun around but there were men above us in the hall. One stood in my way blocking the top of the stairs.

  Fraoch’s hand pressed on my back urging me up and at the top I had to push past a man, totally in my way, being menacing. I glanced at his face and my stomach dropped as I recognized him: Vile Mac, that scoundrel. The guy who scared Lizbeth so much we had to hide in her room.

  Another man stepped into my path, while another leaned against our room’s door. Their big stinking unmoving bodies filled the hall and it wasn’t a lack of space, there was some definite terrorizing going on here.

  Fraoch growled, “Let her pass.”

  There was a scuffle: hands grasping my skirts, in my hair, clamped around my arm. I shoved. Fraoch fought. My shoulder got painfully tweaked. Then Fraoch shoved me hard through the door, causing me to stumble down to my knees.

  He slammed and bolted the door behind us.

  He leaned his back against it.

  I stood, and brushed off my skirts.

  “M’apologies, I had tae get ye—”

  “No, it’s fine.” I stretched out my sore arm. “Fraoch, what are we going to do?”

  “Every ruffian is shelterin’ from the weather, I — dost ye have more weapons?”

  “I do.” I rifled through my bag. “A dagger, another dagger, and here, a handgun.” I passed my gun over and he examined it appreciatively. I said, “I wish I had a shotgun.”

  I stood beside him and showed him how to load the gun and gave him a box of bullets.

  He crouched down and peeked through a crack in the floor. “Tis too many men,” he said finally. “We will need tae remain until the weather breaks.”

  “That guy, Vile Mac, he’s evil, what is he doing here?”

  “I daena ken, and I canna go and ask as they ken m’wife is here in the room.”

  “I suppose the police are out of the question?”

  “What are the police?”

  “Someone to enforce the law? Like for the government?”

  He ran his hand through his hair and checked the bullets in the gun for the third time. “Until the weather breaks the castle winna ken anything.”

  “Great, this chamberpot is going to get disgusting.”

  Thirteen - Hayley

  We were much quieter after that. Like mice. The rest of the day we eavesdropped on the man-mob. It would grow quiet downstairs, we would half-relax, then their voices grew louder until they were either arguing or laughing, their drunken conversation and furniture moving climaxed in the evening after a full day of drinking.

  Occasionally voices went by outside our door, loud, and boisterous and often trash-talking just so Fraoch would hear them.

  It was fucking torture.

  Fraoch and I ate protein bars. We had enough water. We had whisky. Madame Mary never came upstairs to check on us.

  We lay on the bed fully clothed just in case. I was tucked in under Fraoch’s arm with my gun beside him. There was a loud crash downstairs and riotous laughter. I asked, “Do you think Madame Mary is okay?”

  “Aye, she has been the proprietor of this inn for many years, she has the favor of the Earl, they winna harm her. But she will only come tae serve them at breakfast and then will go tae her back rooms tae survive the onslaught.”

  “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever been through.”

  He kissed the top of my head and we quieted again.

  I sat up my eyes wide. “We should hide the... you know.” I gestured to my bag with the gold and the vessels. “Just in case. So you can sleep.”

  We checked all over the room for a hiding place, settling on a loose board near the corner farthest from the fireplace. We waited until the noise downstairs got really loud and used that as cover while we yanked up the board. We placed the small bag of gold and the vessel there and replaced the board.

  Then, while men yelled at each other in the hall we shoved our bed over that part of the floor. It meant our bed was farther away from the fire but we were out of firewood anyway. It dawned on me that along with the mattress for Lizbeth, plus the watch for Fraoch, I should bring some of those long-burning fire logs next time I came.

  If I ever got to leave.

  Fraoch asked, “Why canna ye time travel?”

  I said, “You mean, why can’t we time travel? Because I don’t think it works indoors, I don’t know, we usually go to a field or the beach or… Would you go with me?”

  “Nae. I canna. And we canna get out.”

  “Yeah, well then that’s a never mind then, we have to get out of here.”

  That evening, the men got drunker and louder. A large gang formed outside our door, banging and laughing. Though they weren’t fucking funny at all. I clung to Fraoch, hiding my face in his shirt. It got so loud it sounded like they were going to kick in the door. He was tense and agitated, whispering, “I canna leave, they would kill me and nae one tae protect ye.”

  “It has to quit raining tomorrow, right? It’s been days.”

  “It might nae be the end of it, they are waitin’ for the end of the storm, but they might destroy the inn as they go. Tis nae safe tae hae ye here.”

  “Who is nearby?”

  “Madame Greer lives down the lane.”

  “Could we go out the window?”

  We crossed to the window and looked out. Visibility was terrible, but the ground was a long way down.

  I tried to be hopeful. “You could drop down, I could drop onto you...”

  He leaned out the window, getting sopping wet. “Nae, tis too far, and they would catch us.” Bang bang bang on the door, it sounded like they were close to breaking it down. I squealed in fear.

  Laughter from outside.

  “You canna stay here.”

  I looked out the window again, our only route out. “I’ll break a leg.”

  A voice outside said something loud.

  “What did they say?”

  Fraoch said, “He is wantin’ an ax.”

  “Fuck.” My heartbeat pounded in my chest.

  I had no freaking skills for this. Except the gun. Could I get through the mob with a gun?

  “Okay, listen to me. This is what we’re going to do, you’re going to put all our bags on your shoulders.” I started digging through them, consolidating what we had. No blankets, too heavy. I tossed them to the side. We moved the bed, pried the floorboard loose, tied our bag of gold to his belt, and dropped it inside the front of his kilt.

  “What are we goin’ tae do?”

  “I have a plan.” I picked up the vessel but at the look on his face, said, “I’m not going to jump unless you are — I’m not jumping without you. We’re going to get out of this and it’s my goddamned honeymoon, I am not letting a bunch of assholes take this magical moment from me.”

  I stuck the vessel in my satchel, slung it over my shoulder and situated it against my back. “Pick up those bags. Now I’m going to hold the gun like this. You’re going to keep your body, your back to mine... You’ll have your sword. I’m going to threaten to shoot everyone if they don’t step back.”

  I added, “We’re going to walk together. You growl and look menacing. Can you do that?”

  He growled. And it was really very scary.

  “I don’t know how you go from sweet to that on cue, but okay — we know what we’re doing?”

  “I want ye tae promise me, daena get taken. Go tae the future, use the vessel.”

  I huffed. “Like I would leave you.”

  “Save yerself, if it comes tae it.”

  “Would you save yourself? No, you would fight for me. And I’ve got the gun.” I checked that it was loaded for like the eighteenth time. There was a loud, about to come through the door, bang.

  “Just so we’re clear, if I shoot someone in the eighteenth century will I get in trouble?”

  “Nae. We arena likely tae survive this.” He switched the hilt of the sword from one hand to the other.

  There was another loud bang and cheering
from the men in the hall.

  “Daena let them trap us in this room. When the door opens we hae tae fight our way out.”

  I dug through my satchel for my phone, and found a downloaded song — Bang Bang by Jessie J.

  I pulled out my Bluetooth speaker, pushed play on the song, and turned it on as loud as it would go.

  Fraoch winced.

  The sound in the hall quieted down. I returned my phone to my satchel and hung the speaker’s lanyard around my neck.

  I hurriedly hugged Fraoch. “Let’s go.”

  Fourteen - Hayley

  When we burst through the door, we were epically loud. We forced ourselves forward, with grown ass men cringing away from the music. Men clamped their hands over their ears. A few looked frightened, wincing, just like Fraoch had, but on Fraoch it had been sweet, on these monsters their fear made me gleeful. “Oh yeah, motherfucker? What do you think of this?” I leveled the gun in their faces.

  Fraoch pressed close to my back, his sword mid-chest level, we forced our way into the hall. He yelled, “Back with ye, get back!”

  The song was so loud I wanted to turn it down, but instead I just rode it. I pretended to be some out-of-control cop on a show.

  Men cowered before me, but the hallway was tight. I clung down the wall, trying to look scarier than I felt, while in the music Jessie, Ariana, and Nikki, really belted out the lyrics. I swept my gun back and forth. Fraoch kept his sword ready to keep them from grabbing us from behind. As I descended the steps I yelled, “I have a gun, I’ll shoot — I’ll shoot you motherfuckers, every one of you. And I can from here. This is a good gun. This is a West Indies-style gun from the New World!”

  Men blocked the bottom of the stairs. “Let us pass! Let us pass, right now!” I pointed my gun and swept it around their faces.

  Vile Mac was leering, his brow raised, he joked, “The lassie is goin’ tae come down and have a laugh and a drink with us, aye friends?”

  I aimed the gun right at him. “You fucking shut up.”

  Fraoch said, “Tis m’wife, ye let us pass and there winna be trouble.”

  Men parted, but it was terrifying to traverse the room. We were outnumbered and halfway through the room men surrounded us.

  “I will fucking shoot.” The music was making it hard to think.

  Vile Mac said, “The lassie canna fight us all.”

  A man lunged, scaring the shit out of me. I shot at the ceiling, screaming, as plaster and wood chips fell around us. Men scrambled away.

  I wanted to collapse to the floor and beg them to leave us alone, but I had to get out that door. Fraoch tugged my skirts. “Come.”

  “We’re leaving!” I shrieked, “We’re fucking leaving!” I swept the gun around the room. Men ducked. “You better duck, cause the next time I’m shooting someone!”

  Fraoch shoved his shoulder against the door.

  We were outside in the rain. The loch must have been flooding because water was up mid-calf, filling in over the top of my boots, and dragging down my skirts.

  We hadn’t discussed what to do once we were free. Music full blast, still pointing my gun at the front door of the inn. “Where do we go?”

  Fraoch said, “The stables, turn off the sounds, twill frighten the horses.”

  My hands shook as I fumbled for the power button. I was so panicked. “I wouldn’t want anyone to be frightened.”

  The stables were a short distance away but running there through water with heavy sodden skirts was challenging. Fraoch pulled me along but it was maddening how slow my escape went.

  I could barely see from the rain, my tears, my frustration. At the stable Fraoch and a boy frantically got our horses ready while I watched the front door of the inn. “They’re coming through the door!”

  Fraoch passed me Gatorbelle’s reins.

  I tried to hold her steady while telling her it would be fine while my teeth were chattering from the cold and fear. I was shivering.

  I wondered if I was in shock.

  Men were spilling from the door of the inn, an angry, violent mob.

  Fraoch yelled, “Get on the horse, Hayley, now!”

  It was hard to get my shaking hands around the reins but I did finally get a foot in a stirrup and floundered up from the water. Fraoch swung onto his horse and tried to block me from the men as they surrounded us again. My drenched skirts held me down as I tried to swing a leg up and men were pulling me down, by my hips. I slipped from my horse with a splash to the ground.

  I was on my back, in a fight, something Quentin had specifically told me to never ever let happen. Fraoch swung his sword, cutting and stabbing, but I was disconnected, catching glimpses over men’s shoulders as they held me down, splashing, fighting, yelling, my horse struggling — someone was pulling my gun from my hand, my fucking gun. I couldn’t see where it was pointing, except — away from me, the opposite direction of Fraoch. I fired.

  A man screamed. The crowd scrambled away. With pure adrenaline I leapt up from the mud in one move, something I learned in a freaking mud run. I couldn’t believe I used to do this for fun.

  Someone grabbed me around my waist, a disgusting voice near my ear, said, “You’re a bonny, lass.”

  I shrieked. Vile Mac, his face so close to mine, his big fucking man hands on my body keeping me down. I struggled from his hold and grabbed Gatorbelle’s reins.

  Fraoch bellowed, “On your horse, Hayley!”

  With superhero strength I pulled my body onto my horse.

  “You’re going to pay for this lassie, the whole Campbell family is going to pay—”

  “Pay for what, asshole, not dying? Well fuck you.”

  “Ye daena even ken how much trouble the Campbells are in.”

  He grabbed at my leg and tried to pull me off the horse, I was weak and tired and in shock and I couldn’t struggle anymore.

  Fraoch’s voice as if from a distance, “Hayley!”

  Vile Mac had my reins, he was climbing on my horse. It was either me or him and — I fired my gun. He convulsed, shot in the chest. I caught a glimpse of his eyes as he fell back, hatred, fear, his hands grabbing at me, trying to take me down with him. I screamed but held on to Gatorbelle.

  And then Gatorbelle bolted.

  I held on. When I was young I had been taught what to do if a horse bolted: stay calm, ride, hold on, find the rhythm, and then slowly bring the horse under control. I knew it, but it was another thing to get calm in reality. The only thing working on my behalf was that I wanted to bolt too.

  I was far more terrified of the gang behind me than the muddy, slushy, water-drenched road ahead of me — though I was still pretty fucking scared. I couldn’t hear Fraoch or his horse, I heard nothing at all, except rain, splash, thudding horse hooves, wind rushing past my ears.

  There was no visibility, just wet and gray and Gatorbelle galloping as fast as she could go. She carried me down the lane, then off the shoulder, down a hill and across a wide open field, going going going — gone.

  I was kind of sure this was the end of me. I stopped trying to survive and just went numb, my mind blank, there was no sound but the beat of the horse, my heartbeat thudding in my head, darkness all around me, pure panic wrapped in fatalism. I was going to die.

  Rain poured down and the horse had a rhythm and my heart joined it and then we were slowing and slowing and slowing until finally Gatorbelle was walking. I folded over her mane and burst into tears. “Thank you, that was kind of asinine how you almost killed me back there. That was so scary and you also saved my life.”

  I wasn’t sure where the hell I was.

  Gatorbelle came to a complete stop.

  I needed shelter but that required decision making. I was lost, post trauma, and probably on the verge of drowning on land.

  And that shock that I thought was coming earlier, it settled in. I was freezing, shivering, and numb.

  A few long moments later — Fraoch’s voice, “Och, Hayley, ye had me in a fear on yer life.”


  I nodded my head, still on the horse’s neck, my cheek scratchy on Gatorbelle’s mane. “I’m alive?”

  “Aye,” his horse drew up beside mine.

  He reached over and smoothed my hair from my cheek. “Would ye mind stayin’ that way?”

  “I’m literally doing my best.” I sighed. “Did I just kill someone?”

  “Ye likely killed two men, I killed three, twill be a mess tae clean up when the rain has stopped. We will need tae see the earl as soon as he returns and give him enough gold tae keep the trouble from settlin’ on us. Though I think most of the Campbells will thank us for the deaths. The men were ruffians and nae good was goin’ tae come of them bein’ on Campbell lands.”

  “You’re talking like someone who thinks we’re going to get out of this desolate field in the middle of nowhere Scotland. We’re lost, there’s no way we—”

  Fraoch gave me a pitying smile and gestured in front of us.

  I sat up and pulled my hair back from my eyes. About ten feet in front of Gatorbelle’s nose was the wall of a castle, hidden in the downpour. “Oh, shit,” I said. “This would have been a really idiotic place to die.”

  Fifteen - Hayley

  Fraoch led us into the courtyard of the castle and once the gate was drawn behind us I finally felt safe. I slid off Gatorbelle into his arms and we held on, hugging under an awning though we were drenched clean through. Clinging to each other after our near death experience, until Lizbeth interrupted us and rushed me away to dry me off. Her purpose was to get me to a warm place in front of a fire. Fraoch’s purpose was to warn the guards on the walls that a band of men might be following us.

  Lizbeth led me to a small room on the upper floor. She called it an extra room, and after unlocking it and being shocked at its coldness and dustiness, it was very musty — she called for a boy to start a fire in the hearth. Two women arrived and covered the bed with blankets and another wiped a rag across the furniture. There was a wooden double bed, a threadbare rug, a table and two chairs, a chest.

  A candle sat beside a pitcher of water and a bowl on the table. A chamber pot was in the corner. A few moments later a decanter of wine was brought, a little bit of bread on a plate beside it.

 

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