“If ye want yer freedom, ye must come now, woman,” he hissed. “The Muirs will be back any minute.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. Her oval-shaped face was pale, locks of her honey-yellow hair were plastered to her forehead with sweat. And what on earth was she wearing? She was dressed in a pair of black trews that clung to her legs scandalously. He didn’t have time to think about that now. His window of opportunity was rapidly narrowing.
“Move!” he snapped, pushing the woman ahead of him.
***
ABI WAS OFFICIALLYterrified. As she was dragged along through stone corridors and then up flights of steps into what could only be described as a living, breathing medieval castle, she was sure she was going to pass out. Her heart hammered with fright. Her head spun. She had no idea what was happening, but all around her was chaos.
The stink of smoke filled the castle’s corridors and there were shouts and the thunder of feet everywhere. She’d lost sight of the men who’d been in the cell—it was just her and the blond man. A man who was carrying a sword. A sword! And not some delicate fencing rapier either, of the kind you might see in fencing clubs up and down the country, but a great big terrifying broadsword whose blade was nearly as long as one of Abi’s legs.
It’s all part of the re-enactment,she told herself.They’ve mistaken you for one of the actors, that’s all. When you get outside, you’ll see an audience watching and clapping and then it will be over and you can explain the mistake. That’s it. That’s definitely it.
But her reasoning sounded hollow in her own mind and no matter how much she told herself there was a rational explanation for all this, she couldn’t stop the cloying terror that clogged her throat.
Twice the blond man grabbed her and yanked her to a stop. Both times he peered around the corner and then pressed her back against the wall whilst a group of men in some kind of uniform rushed past. Then they were off again, weaving through corridors that were becoming increasingly thick with smoke.
“Where are we going?” she croaked, pressing her sleeve over her mouth.
“Where do ye think we’re going?” answered the man, not slowing his pace as he dragged her along. His eyes darted everywhere and he moved silently, his boots making no sound on the stone. “We’re getting out of here. Unless ye would like to go back to yer cell?” His eyes flicked to her and she realized they were a striking pale blue. “What did ye do to anger the Muirs, anyway?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
He snorted a sardonic laugh. “That’s what they all say. Caught stealing were ye?”
“I most certainly was not!”
“Well, whatever ye did, if ye dinna want to end up back in that cell—or worse—keep yer mouth shut and run when I tell ye to.”
Irritation replaced the fear. Who the hell did he think he was speaking to? She opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his orders, but before she could speak, they reached a closed door outlined with sunlight and he pushed her roughly against the wall.
“Wait here.”
He crept forward and used his sword to open the catch and lever the door open a few inches. He peered out then looked back at her. “Come on, quickly!”
Abi shrank against the wall. She most definitely did not want to go any further with him. What she wanted was to get away from him, from this place, and from whatever this madness was she found herself in.
But he didn’t let her. With a growl of annoyance, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her through the door. Abi blinked in the sudden light, almost blinding after the gloom of the corridors. She found herself in a wide courtyard flanked on all sides by high stone battlements. Men were running up and down those battlements shouting, and one of them spotted Abi and her captor emerging from the door.
“There!” Abi looked up to see a man pointing at them. “We’ve been tricked! Close the gates!”
The blond man cursed under his breath and pushed Abi bodily ahead of him. “Quickly, woman! Run! Before they close the gates and we’re trapped!”
Through the swirling smoke Abi saw a large set of gates standing open. Beyond, she spied open countryside. That way must lie the road, her car, and sanity. She didn’t need any more urging. She took off, pelting across the courtyard with all the speed that fear could lend her. The blond man kept pace, and together they dodged through the clouds of smoke and between barrels and crates stacked all over the courtyard.
If she could make it through the gates, everything would be all right. She could go to the police and get these lunatics arrested. Then she would make a formal complaint to whatever company was running this re-enactment as she was pretty sure they were breaking every health and safety law in existence, not to mention dragging an unsuspecting bystander into their idiocy.
But as they’d almost reached the gates, a man suddenly appeared out of the smoke right in their path. He was holding a sword double-handed and he bellowed an ear-splitting challenge. The blond man didn’t hesitate. He ducked under the swing of the man’s sword and then kicked him between the legs with all his might. The man went down, clutching his nether regions, and the blond man carried on running.
Together, he and Abi burst through the gates and onto the road. Now Abi saw that piles of straw had been dragged against the castle walls and set alight—the source of the smoke that had filled the place. Dozens of men were busy throwing buckets of water over the fires. Up ahead rose a line of trees and Abi spotted the last of the men she’d shared the cell with disappearing into the treeline.
The blond man took off after them but Abi skidded to a standstill and swung around to look at the castle. Why did it look so different? Why was it no longer the ruin she’d entered? Its roof and windows were intact—although these were little more than arrow slits designed for defense. And where were the fields full of sheep? Instead, a thick woodland blanketed the castle on one side with rows of fields sloping down the hill to open country beyond.
Abi bit her lip. She’d lost her bearings. In which direction was her car? She had a split second to make a decision. In one direction lay the woods and those terrifying men. In another direction lay a whole lot of different men in the fields fighting to put out the fire. That left only one option.
Turning on her heel, Abi turned north towards the open country and ran for all she was worth.
***
