The light revealed a narrow set of stone steps leading downward. She leaned into the hole and cast the light upward. Nothing but cobwebs fluttering down from a massive beam of wood.
She sat on the edge, her boots planted firmly on the top step. “I have to leave,” she argued to any entity wishing to listen. A gutted emptiness threatened to reduce her to a curled-up mess of tears. She sniffed and cleared her throat. No. Not the time for tears. She would weep for all she had lost later. If she survived. She clenched her teeth and shoved the doubt away. No.Whenshe survived and started a new life, she would cry for what might have been.
She cared about Quinn, but that didn’t matter because he obviously didn’t care about her. If he had, he would’ve believed her. She admitted to a maybe when it came to that, but surely, in the end, he would’ve come around. Instead, he had locked her in her room and stormed off. Probably headed to fetch guards or something. She made an angry swipe at a determined tear and lifted her chin. “Stop it, Eves. No wallowing, remember?”
With a hard yank of her pack through the narrow opening, she started down the steps, pausing only long enough to close the hatch behind her. She needed it to look as if she had never found the escape tunnel. At least, she hoped it was an escape tunnel.
One hand on the cool damp wall, the other clutching the flashlight, she eased her way down the narrow steps. Something scratched and scurried somewhere, making her skin crawl. She hated rodents. They spread so many diseases. Water dripped and echoed. She halted. Water? What if she came out somewhere and had to swim for it? The fortress was built overlooking the ocean. “Well then, you will just have to swim for it.” There was no turning back. Not after all she had seen in Quinn’s eyes.
“Onward, Eves.” It made her feel better to talk out loud. Helped her feel not so alone. The psychologist reporting to Human Resources would have had a field day with that one.
After she descended for an endless span of time, she halted again, reconsidering the situation. She wished she had packed some food. At least some bread or something. As it was, she might still have a power bar or two. She couldn’t remember. With a shake of her head, she continued on. It didn’t matter. She would figure it out. One obstacle at a time. The current priority was to escape whatever judgment Quinn had reached.
The rhythmic shushing of moving water echoed through the darkness. She tipped an ear toward it and concentrated. Strong waves. Definitely not some sort of underground moat or cesspool. The steps led to the sea. She hoped they also led to some dry ground and not a submerged chamber. “Press on, Eves. Press on.” No sense wasting worries on what might be.
As silly as it seemed, the darkness didn’t look as dark. With a hand firmly planted on the wall, she clicked off the flashlight and waited for her eyes to adjust. Off in the distance, as the steps became less and less steep, a light glimmered, and the sound of waves crashed louder. She hoped that meant there was somewhere to walk as well.
She clicked the flashlight back on and hurried down the last of the steps. As the passage opened up, relief made her breathe easier. Blessed daylight shone right up ahead. The tunnel opened out into a hidden cave with plenty of room to walk and a small opening that would take her outside to the shore. Even when the tide came in, the high, broad shelf of stone wouldn’t be submerged. She scurried around the perimeter and stepped out into the sunshine, blinking against the brightness.
On the cliff above loomed MacTaggart Keep. That meant if she went left, she would find herself along the shores of Cromarty Firth. To the right lay the mouth of the Moray Firth and open ocean. Fishing settlements might line the banks of Cromarty. Maybe even a village. If she expected to survive, she needed to find someone who would pay her to work. At what? She didn’t have a clue. But surely, she could do something. First, she needed to put some distance between herself and Quinn. She wished she had some idea where his clan started and stopped. He had told her where the borders of his land lay, but now she couldn’t recall what he had said.
The rocky strand made for difficult walking, especially since she did her best to hug the cliffside. If anyone above happened to look down, she would be spotted right off with her white kertch and blue dress. She snatched the cloth off her head and tucked it into her belt. It could be worn later. Around people. When the effectiveness mattered.
Terns keened overhead. Waves crashed. A brininess filled the air, leaving behind the saltiness she tasted every time she licked her lips. If someone followed her, she would never hear them. Constant glances behind slowed her. It looked as if the cliffside sloped lower up ahead. She climbed to the grassy hillside, pausing to tie the kertch back over her hair, hoping it would disguise her. Quinn’s people had only seen her for a short time at the wedding feast with an uncovered head. Hopefully, none would remember her well enough to recognize her.
She peeped over the low embankment, scanning the horizon for people or dwellings. Nothing but tall grass, clusters of gorse, and a few trees here and there. “Brilliant.” She scurried onward, yanking at her skirts as they snagged on thistles and bushes. Now and then, she paused and glanced back at the sprawling keep. Somehow, she got the impression the fortress disapproved of her escape. The arrow slits and windows scowled at her with a formidable glare, silently swearing she would fail. No. She would not fail. They didn’t know who they dealt with.
After adjusting the straps of her pack on her shoulders, she hitched up her skirts and ran, heading for the closest clump of trees. She shouldn’t stay out in the open. Once they discovered her gone, they would initiate a search.
When she reached the safety of the small wood, she halted to catch her breath. A minute or two of rest was most definitely in order. The first energizing spike of adrenaline had waned, leaving her to battle weariness alone. She sat with her knees bent and arms propped atop them, surrounded by the knobby roots of the largest tree. As soon as she fully caught her breath, she’d run to the next copse. It would be a hearty jaunt to that one, deeper inland and farther down the glen. But that woods was larger. She would rest longer there.
The distinct sound of thundering hoofbeats made her roll to her belly and keep her head low. From the sound of it, the horses were headed toward the keep. Not away from it. Whoever that was, they weren’t searching for her. She grabbed hold of her pack and eased to the edge of the temporary hideaway.
A long stretch of open ground lay between her and the next forest. Long enough that it made her wonder if she should wait until nightfall. Another look back at the entirely-too-close skirting wall convinced her not to wait. Guards walked the wall. If she could see them, they could see her. At least the height of the grass was well above her waist. If any more riders passed by, she could duck. That would work. As long as she spotted them before they spotted her.
After a deep breath, she charged forward, once again wishing she had worn her close-fitting jeans instead of the impossible yardage of linen and wool skirts. When she had almost reached the next line of trees, the distant sound of horns came to her on the wind. Loud horns. Blaring a long time and accompanied by drums. An alarm. Either the English had made it this far north and her history professor had forgotten to teach that part, or the alarm sounded because of her. At the moment, she wasn’t certain which option would be worse.
She ran hard the last of the way, not stopping until she made it deep inside the protection of the trees. When she felt sheltered enough, she dropped to her knees. Doubled over, she hugged herself, fighting to catch her breath. Heaven help her. If anyone happened to be close, they would find her from all her wheezing and coughing.
As her labored breathing slowed, she pulled her water bottle from the pack and allowed herself a small sip. She wanted to guzzle it but refrained. Who knew where the next spring might be? Every resource needed to be conserved and rationed. Everything. Another sip, and she’d make her way to the far edge of the trees and see what lay ahead. She wished she had noticed additional details on the ride in, but no sense lamenting that now. All she could do was keep moving until…
She clenched her teeth to keep from sobbing. Until what? They found her and killed her? Tortured her? They’d covered that in history class as well. What would she do if people didn’t believe she belonged here? Especially with her bloody English accent.
“Stop it!” she ordered in a ragged whisper. Panicking helped nothing. One task at a time. She needed to focus on one task at a time. Find the basics first. Food. Water. Shelter. She wouldn’t stop moving until she checked those three goals off her list. At least, for today. She had the distinct feeling that every day would bring a new set of priorities, whether she wished it or not.
Chapter Fourteen
“She left?” Duganbacked up a step and swept a quick glance around the stable. As a lad led a horse down the aisle, he craned his neck and watched the boy until he’d gone well past the stall. “Why did she leave?” he asked while still keeping watch.
Rosstan thumped Dugan’s shoulder. “It doesna matterwhy, ye arse.” He threw out his chest and gave Quinn a curt nod. “Ye know ye can always depend on me.” With a backward glance at Dugan, he added, “No questions asked.”
“I thought it might help us to know where the lady might ha’ gone.” Dugan shuffled in place and drew up like a sullen child.
Quinn tightened the straps of his saddle, paying no attention to their banter. “She canna be far. Nary a horse is missing.” He stopped himself, clutching the worn leather of his gear as yet another memory about Evie came to mind. “She doesna ken how to ride.” With a stern shake to free himself of the thought, he gathered up the reins and led his horse out of the stable. “I would welcome yer company in finding her.”
“Shall I fetch Kendric as well?” Rosstan followed close behind with his own horse in tow. Dugan and his mount exited the stable last.
“Kendric is busy ensuring our clan is secure from the English. I willna take him from that task.” Quinn hoisted himself up into the saddle. With a nod at Dugan and Rosstan, he led the way out the gate.
