by B. J. Scott
“As ready as I will ever be,” she replied, her voice trembling.
They crawled on hands and knees until they reached a copse of trees. “If we follow the river south and stay out of sight, we might get away.” Ian stood. “They canna track us on horseback, it’s far too rocky and narrow. So they’ll be forced to do so on foot.”
Roslyn shadowed Ian as he entered the dense brush, but soon found it difficult to keep the pace. Her gown proved to be a hindrance, the skirt getting caught on the branches. After going a short distance, she stopped and sank to the ground. “I canna continue.”
Ian dropped to his knees beside her and clasped her hands. “You must keep going, ma gaol.”
“I canna take another step. My legs are tired, my head is pounding, and I canna see straight. I left my slippers in the clearing, so my feet are so raw and bruised, I can no longer stand the pain.” She tugged free of Ian’s grasp and stared up at him. “Leave me here and go on. Alone, you stand a chance. Together, I fear we’re doomed.”
“Nay. I willna leave you behind. We go together or not at all.” He gently lifted one of her feet and inspected her injuries. “I was a fool to let you walk on your own. And after what you endured at the castle, it’s no wonder you are finding it hard to keep up. I’ll carry you.” He tried to lift her, but she shoved him away.
“You canna carry me, Ian. I willna allow it.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, then lowered her gaze. “Leave while you can. I insist you go on without me.”
Ian studied her for a moment, then clutched her wrist and hauled her to her feet. Her legs buckled, but he caught her around the waist and kept her from falling.
“I told you I canna walk, Ian.” She glanced at her gown. “Na to mention my skirt keeps getting caught in the branches. I’ve torn it at least four times and it slows me down.”
Wasting no time, Ian grasped the sides of her dress and yanked until the seams gave way and the garment landed in a pool of fabric around her ankles.
“Have you gone mad?” Dressed in only her chemise, she did her best to cover herself with her arms, then glared at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Ian picked up the gown and tore off several long strips of fabric, then despite her protests, carried Roslyn to a nearby boulder and set her upon it. “I needed something to wrap your feet and you’ll move more freely with less clothing to encumber you.” He wound the bandaging around one foot and then the other.
“It willna make a difference, Ian. I still willna be able to walk on my own.”
“I dinna expect you to.” After tucking what was left of her gown behind the boulder, Ian scooped her up. “I told you, I’ll carry you.” He headed into the woods.
Roslyn offered no further resistance. She rested her head on his chest, and allowed him to carry her over fallen logs, uneven ground, and rocky terrain, toting her as if she weighed no more than a feather.
But when they arrived at the falls, Ian came to an abrupt halt. “The path ends here and we canna go back.” He shifted her in his arms, then peered over the edge at the churning water below.”
“There must be another way out.”
“There is no other way.” Ian set her down in the shallow water.
Her chemise now wet from the misty spray of the river striking the rocks, Roslyn shivered, her teeth chattering as she spoke. “It’s no use. We have to go back, Ian.”
“They’ll be waiting for us and will force you to return to Morgan Castle. Is that what you want?” Ian peered over the edge of the falls again.
“Of course na, but what choice do we have?”
“Halt where you are. Move or try to run, and you willna live to regret it,” the leader of the warriors shouted as he sprinted toward them with his sword drawn. Several others followed on his heels.
Ian grasped Roslyn by her upper arms. “Look at me lass. Can you swim?”
“What are you saying, Ian? We must run, they’re coming.” Panic laced her voice.
Ian tightened his grip. “Roslyn, can you swim?” he repeated.
“I dinna know. I never tried.”
“There is but one way out.” He gestured toward the edge of the waterfall.
She glared back at Ian. “You canna possibly be suggesting what I think you are. To jump will mean certain death on the rocks below.”
“I said dinna move,” the warrior shouted again as he closed the gap between them.
Ian inched closer to the falls, his feet now resting on the edge of the cliff. “Unfortunately it is the only way. If we dinna go now, it will be too late.” He clasped Roslyn’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “It is now or never, ma gaol.”
She looked him directly in the eyes. “Now.”
Ian yanked her against his chest and kissed her. “I’ll see you at the bottom.” He squeezed her hand and they leapt.
Chapter 19
As Roslyn tumbled through the air, plummeting toward what she believed was certain death, she squeezed her eyes shut and whispered a prayer. When she hit the water, the surface wasn’t soft like she’d expected. Instead it felt like she’d slammed into a stone wall. Her head submerged beneath the icy depths, and she instinctively kicked her feet and flailed her arms with all the power she could muster.
The weight of her wet clothing pulled her downward. Her eyes burned and her pulse pounded in her ears. Yet despite the fact her lungs were robbed of air and her mouth was full of water, she continued to struggle, but to no avail. The last of her strength drained, she glanced to the surface, which now seemed miles away, stunned when a sudden feeling of peace and resolve washed over her. She’d swear she saw her mother floating above her with her hand outstretched, summoning her home. No longer fearing death, she stopped fighting and surrendered to the darkness.
“I canna believed she survived the fall,” someone said. “That’s quite a drop.”
“True. But I’m even more surprised she dinna drown, since she doesna know how to swim,” another man said.
Roslyn stirred. She recognized the second man’s gravelly voice, but she could not raise her head.
“She would have perished,” someone said, “if George dinna dive in after her. He caught hold of her as the depth was about to swallow her up, he did.”
“When I’m through with her, she’ll wish George hadna bothered saving her.”
Upon hearing those words, Roslyn cringed. She coughed and sputtered, water spewing from her mouth. The man was right, she did wish she’d drowned. She shielded her face from the sun beating down on it and opened her eyes. “Roderick,” she rasped.
“Nice of you to drop in for a visit, sister.” Roderick laughed at his own jest, then addressed his men, his expression turning serious. “Now, I’d like someone here to tell me how she managed to get out of my dungeon.” He glared at those assembled and drew his sword. “Someone had better tell me or heads will roll.”
One of his men stepped forward. “She had help escaping, m’lord.”
“What do you mean she had help, George?” Roderick snapped. “When I left you in charge, she was locked up in the bowels of the castle with two warriors guarding her cell.”
George bowed his head. “I know you did, m’lord. We had the dungeon well-guarded, but she still managed to get away. We gave chase, but—”
“Obviously you dinna guard her well enough!” Roderick took a menacing step forward, and without further warning, plunged his sword into George’s chest, the man crumbling to the ground in agony.
Roslyn gasped, shocked and sickened that her brother had killed one of his most loyal men because of her.
Roderick stood over his dying warrior, placed his foot on the man’s shoulder, and yanked the sword from his chest. He wiped the blade on George’s tunic and glared at the rest of his men. “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.” He grabbed Roslyn by the hair and hauled her to her feet. “Now, dear sister, tell me who helped you escape.”
“No one.” Roslyn pursed her lips and glowered a
t her brother, refusing to tell him anything. She scanned the area around the shore of the small loch into which the river and waterfall emptied, looking for Ian. But her search came up empty and her heart sank. Had he been killed on the rocks, or did he drown?”
Roderick delivered a backhanded slap that send Roslyn crashing to the ground, then he faced his men. “I’ll ask everyone again. Who helped my sister escape?”
Another warrior stepped forward. “If you please, m’lord, George told us he thought it might be a member of Clan Fraser who aided your sister. He suspected he might also be the same person who took your son.”
“Explain how an enemy could enter our midst without my knowledge.” Roderick lumbered toward the man.
“I canna answer that, Lord Morgan,” the warrior said. “But when George questioned the guards, he was told a male servant, aided by your sister’s maid, Fiona, facilitated Lady Roslyn’s getaway.”
“And is Fiona under arrest?”
“Nay, M’lord,” the warrior said. “She has disappeared.”
Roderick cursed and raised his sword. “I am surrounded by incompetence.”
“Please dinna kill me, Lord Morgan, I’m merely telling you what I heard.” The man dropped to his knees before Roderick, then lowered his head.
Roderick slid his weapon beneath the man’s chin and raised it until their eyes met. “Go on.”
“After your son disappeared, one of the servants said he’d seen that new man from Clan Forbes near your chamber. He was talking with Fiona.” The warrior sucked in a ragged breath. “They told him they were lovers, and had been alone together the night your son went missing, the reason they dinna show up when you summoned the servants to question them. But he dinna believe them.”
Roderick removed his blade from beneath the man’s chin. “What has this to do with my sister?”
“When Lady Roslyn escaped, both Fiona and Ian Forbes were not to be found. And after talking to the men guarding her cell, George figured Lady Roslyn knew they planned to take your son, and it was they who helped her to get away too.”
Roderick placed his boot on the man’s shoulder and shoved him over. He spun around and raised his hand, prepared to strike Roslyn again. “Tell me his real name,” Roderick snarled through gritted teeth. “Was he a Fraser?”
“It doesna matter who it was. He’s dead,” she sobbed. “Kill me if you wish, but I’ll take his name to my grave.”
“Insolent, bitch!” Roderick raised his sword, but Ciaran clasped his wrist before he could deliver the blow.
“She’s right, Roddy, it doesna matter who aided her if the man is dead,” Ciaran said, then released Roderick’s arm. “Leave her be for now. We have more important things go deal with.”
Roderick grabbed Ciaran by the neck of his tunic and held his sword to his friend’s throat. “I’ve heard enough from you. You are here to help me get back my son, not to offer me advice as to how to deal with my sister.”
“And I intend to do just that.” Showing no fear, Ciaran covered Roderick’s hand with his own and scowled back at him. “The Frasers are camped just over the ridge. If you stay focused, you’ll have your son back by nightfall. Then you can deal with Roslyn.” He shoved the sword away from his neck and backed out of Roderick’s grasp. “Best we start planning our attack.”
Roderick motioned for one of his warriors to come forward. “Take my sister and tie her to yonder tree. Post a guard and make certain she doesna escape, again.”
“Right away, m’lord.” The man helped Roslyn to her feet. “You heard your brother, come with me.” He clutched her elbow, but she jerked free.
“I dinna need your help,” she said. “Lead the way and I will follow.”
Ian watched from behind some rocks. After they’d leapt from atop the falls, he’d been caught up in the undertow and carried downstream for about of a quarter mile. Once he emerged and managed to crawl ashore, he raced back to where he’d seen Roslyn go under. The last person he expected to find was her brother.
While relieved to see she was alive, it required every bit of control he could summon to remain hidden. He’d be of no help to Roslyn if he acted upon his desire to dash amongst the warriors and slay Roderick. So he was forced to wait for the right moment to strike. Until then, he’d listen and watch every move the blackguard made.
“I estimate the Frasers have about fifty men,” Ciaran began. “They’ve made camp in a glen on the other side of the hill. We have almost double the forces, so suggest we spread out and surround them, cutting off any means of escape. If we wait until dark, when most of their men have retired, we can rush in, catch them off-guard, and slaughter them as they sleep.”
“I dinna want the lad harmed,” Roderick said. “The reason we’ve come here is na only to teach the Frasers a lesson, but to bring Quinn back to Morgan Castle.”
“I’m aware of that, Roddy,” Ciaran replied. “That’s why I’ll personally be responsible for discovering the lad’s location prior to the raid. I’ll then make sure he is brought back to you with every hair in place.” He thumped his fist against his chest. “No Frasers will be killed until I retrieve the lad. You’ve my word on it.”
Roderick stroked his chin and smiled. “It is a sound plan, Ciaran. We’ll wait until dark to make our move.” He slid his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “What say we have a wee dram at my tent, while the men prepare for battle?”
Ciaran glanced in Roslyn’s direction. “And what do you plan to do with your sister once you get Quinn back?”
“I had intended to kill her outright for her treasonous ways, but recently heard that Laird Montclair, is looking for a wife. I will send word to him once I return to Morgan Castle and offer him Roslyn.”
“I canna believe you’d ship her off to the Demon of the Highlands,” Ciaran said. “She’d be better off dead from what I’ve heard tell of him. That devil goes through wives faster than a man can eat a meal. And there is never any trace of them afterwards.”
“Have you a better idea?” Roderick asked. “At first I was furious when she ruined the alliance with Sinclair. But I’ve also heard tell, Montclair pays a king’s ransom for a comely lass, more for a virgin. She’ll bring double the bride’s price that Sinclair offered, maybe triple.” He spoke loud enough so his sister would overhear her fate. But so did Ian.
“He’ll use her until he’s had his fill, then kill her,” Ciaran informed him.
“What he does with my sister after she belongs to him isna my concern.” Roderick spat. “Now bring me my jug of whisky and we’ll drink a toast to victory over the Frasers, the coin my sister will fetch, and my heir.”
“Na if I have any say about it,” Ian said under his breath. He’d save Roslyn and protect Quinn and his clan if it was the second to last thing he did. First, he wanted the satisfaction of knowing Roderick was dead.
Blood ran down Ian’s calf and dripped on his boot. He’d struck his left leg on a rock when he landed in the water, causing a long jagged gash on his shin. But in the end he’d survived the fall and he’d not let a minor injury interfere with saving Roslyn.
He removed his tunic and tore a strip of cloth from the hem. At this moment, the garment would serve him better as a means by which to stop the bleeding and cover his wound. After exposing the injury, he wrapping the material around his leg, securing it tightly, then leaned back against a boulder to wait.
As the hours passed, Ian’s concern for his clan mounted. He watched the Morgan’s men practicing their swordplay, using grain sacks stuffed with sand as their targets. The sun was setting and it would not belong before darkness was upon them and Roderick would launch the attack on his cousins. He chewed on his bottom lip, torn between saving Roslyn and warning his family. If he chose the right moment to make his move, he could do both. But if he miscalculated in the slightest, he be able to accomplish only one of the deeds, perhaps neither. The possibility of the latter result and failure weighed heavy on his mind.
If his cousin
s were butchered and Quinn taken, he could never live with himself, knowing he might have been able to prevent it. But if Roslyn died or was sold in marriage to the Demon of the Highlands, he’d not want to go on living.
He kept his eyes fixed on Roslyn, wondering more than once when she glanced in his direction if she knew he was there. On a couple of occasions, he’d almost let impatience get the better of him and rushed to her aid, but too many of the Morgan’s men were lingering about for him to take a chance. If only he could manage to speak to her alone, or at least get her attention when no one was watching.
Another hour passed, and the time was right. When Roderick ordered Ciaran to assemble the men and all but her guard flocked to the center of the encampment, Ian worked his way around to the other side of the clearing, settling in the bushes only a few feet from where Roslyn was being held.
So close, but yet so far, he thought as he waited for the opportunity to save her. He could almost reach out and touch her, but he didn’t dare move a muscle. Not yet.
Once Morgan’s men moved out, leaving only Roslyn and her guard, he’d have to work fast and prayed he could set her free and reach Connor before it was too late.
When the sentry moved closer to the center of the clearing, in order to watch the men as they formed their ranks, Ian tossed a stone that landed a few inches from Roslyn’s foot, catching her attention. Her gaze darted in his direction and he quickly brought his finger to his lips.
She bobbed her head and stared straight ahead while Ian moved in behind her and whispered, “I’ll get you out of this, ma goal. As soon as they leave and you’re alone with the guard, wait about five minutes, then tell him you need to tend to your needs. Insist he take you into the woods where you’ll have some privacy. I’ll be waiting. Do you understand?”
She nodded again, but remained silent, her eyes still fixed on Roderick and his men.
Satisfied things just might go according to his plan, Ian wove his way through a tangle of weeds and brambles, then settled where he could still see and hear what was going on in the encampment and at the same time, wait for Roslyn.
