Ardroch came running in, fresh from the stables with a number of the other men behind him.
“Fetch my horse!” MacNabh barked at him. “And quick.” He turned to Roisin. “Ye fool o’ a woman. How could ye let her go? She maun be here when the king arrives.”
No other thought than that possessed him, or so it seemed. Gone were all thoughts of combat with Deathan. Not waiting for the woman’s feeble protests, he ran outside again.
Deathan once more followed. And wondered—howcouldanyone get away in this weather? The world was gray, a cacophony of pounding rain, and as wet as the bottom of the sea. How could anyone follow the women in this? Equally impossible.
One of the guards went streaking away to the stables. To fetch MacNabh’s horse, presumably. But the outer gate stood open and unguarded.
Had she got away? Deathan’s heart rose and then plummeted sickeningly. If she had, where might she go? Not home, surely. It would be the first place MacNabh would look. And as Deathan well knew, MacNabh had a right to drag her back here again, alive or otherwise.
She might disappear into the wild. She no doubt knew and understood Scotland’s heart far better than he, who’d lived his life beside the sea. He might never see her again.
But he would never stop looking. And at least she would be free.
He jerked to life as a lad came round from the yard leading MacNabh’s horse, and two others with their own mounts. He cursed himself—he should have gone at once and fetched his pony. Now he would have to follow on foot.
It did not matter. Hewouldfollow.
MacNabh climbed a bit stiffly onto his mount and went out through the unguarded gate, his two men in attendance.
Deathan pelted off after, through the driving rain.
Chapter Fifty-Five
It took Darleithree tries to snag the pony’s mane and convince him to stand. He did not know her, so was skittish, and wore no bridle or lead, so she had no way to hold him.
She would never catch a second of the beasts, the others having scattered. She swiftly decided the one would have to do both her and Orle.
She vaulted onto the animal’s back and reached down for Orle. “Come up. Behind me.”
She did not know if Orle could hear her through the pounding rain. With a panicked look and a shake of the head, the maid mouthed,I cannot!
Orle, not the rider Darlei was, might well be afraid. But there was no time to waste. They might be discovered, and would not be able to hear any pursuit.
“Come!” She seized Orle’s arm and yanked with desperate strength. Her maid came up behind her onto the bare, sopping-wet pony’s hide. “Hold on.”
Darlei had been riding from the age of two, and though this was not her own Bradh, and though the beast balked a little, she soon had him in line. She made for the main gate, the paddock where the ponies were located being surrounded by a wall. She did not know if some unfortunate guard stood there, but intended to ride him down if he did.
They had very little time.
Something had been happening in the stables, some disturbance that, thank all the powers, must have called MacNabh away. But the young guard would send the healer and it would be discovered they were gone, and then—
She could think it through no farther.
The main gate stood open and empty. The miracle of it hurtled toward Darlei as they rode through unhindered by anything but the rain. Her pony’s hooves tore up the turf and they rode blind and headlong, not knowing where, save away.
She could not let this pony stumble, as she had Bradh back at the beginning of this journey. Before she’d ever met Deathan.
Deathan.
Her thoughts darted to the glimpse she’d had of the man pushing the barrow, out her chamber window. Had it been him? Her heart argued so. But if he was there at MacNabh, that meant she had just left him behind.
And it might have been no more than a fancy. A longing. She thought about him so much, dreamed of him so often, she might have imagined what was not there. For she had not seen the man’s face.
And yet…
“Darlei, I am falling!” Orle’s panicked plea in her ear had Darlei slowing their hectic pace. Open land lay all around MacNabh’s stronghold, now curtained with rain. They needed to head for cover before the chief mounted a pursuit.
