Someone was coming. Helene weakly got to her feet, clawing her way up the wall, feeling faint at the effort it took to do so. She leaned heavily against the damp wall, listening and having no idea how long she’d been sequestered in this dark, awful place. No light made its way to her straining eyes. The sun could have risen and set for all she knew.
The footsteps got closer and she wondered who it could be. Perhaps it was Dougall finally come to save her. As she listened, it became clear that whoever it was had very soft footsteps. It sounded as if it might be a woman. Her ears became more attuned to the sounds around her and she could hear the distinct swishing of skirts. She waited as they approached the door.
A key in the lock turned and the door swung open. She was momentarily blinded by a torch being held by the woman standing silhouetted in the doorway.
“Helene, we must get ye out of here.” the woman said.
“Who are ye?” Helene squinted her eyes to see.
“’Tis I. Brenna. I’m sorry I couldnae come sooner. Me Da has had me playing the lady of the castle with his guests.” Brenna took Helene’s elbow and helped her to stand up away from the wall.
“How long have I been here?”
“Two days and two nights. But come. We must hurry.” She tugged on Helene’s arm in an apparent effort to get her moving.
“Is Dougall back?” Helene could hear the desperation in her own voice.
“Nae. He’ll nae return for at least a sennight. I’ve brought ye some food, drink and a blanket to keep ye warm on yer journey. Ye’ll have to leave on foot. Yer horse has been locked away and I was nae able to get to her.”
Helene followed Brenna down the narrow passageway, the torch dipping and flickering as they hurried. At the end of the passage, Brenna turned to the left instead of the way Helene remembered coming.
“Where are we going?” Helene was feeling disoriented and light headed.
“We’re going out through the door that leads to the loch. I’ve someone waiting there to take ye across the water where ye’ll be left to find yer way back to Breaghacraig.”
When they reached the door and Brenna opened it, Helene breathed in the fresh air off the water.
“Go now. Dinnae look back. Me Da is so angry with ye that he wouldnae listen to me. If only ye hadnae hit Greer. I ken how ye felt. I’d like to hit her meself, but there’s nae a thing I can do to change what’s happened. I’m sorry to say, Dougall is nae longer yers. He’ll marry Greer. Ye must ferget him. Do ye ken?”
Helene couldn’t answer. A sob escaped her lips and she did her best to stop the tears that were about to burst forth. She didn’t understand. She never would. Dougall was to be her husband. She loved him and had from the moment she first saw him. Helene had confided in Ashley on one of the many occasions where she brushed Ashley’s hair and they discussed their future dreams. She’d told Ashley how drawn she was to him, but that she was too shy to let him know. Ashley had given her some tips on ways to be more flirtatious and she put them to use right away, having gained the courage she needed from her confidant and friend. Much to Helene’s surprise, Dougall had his eye on her too. He told her that he’d often noticed her from afar and had been waiting for the right moment to approach her. He thought her beautiful and was sure she must already be taken. He was pleased to find he had been wrong and it wasn’t long before he told her how much he loved her.
Helene shook those thoughts from her head. This was all some horrible nightmare. Perhaps she’d wake from it soon and all would be well.
Brenna gave her a quick hug and then shoved her in the direction of the boat, closing the door and shutting Helene out of Dougall’s life forever. She walked to the boat on wobbly legs. She hadn’t eaten since she’d been imprisoned and she felt weak and nauseated. The man waiting for her in the boat held out a hand to help her onto the small vessel. She sat, her dress wicking water from the bottom of the boat. “Thank ye, sir.”
The man grunted an acknowledgement before sitting across from her and rowing out into the loch. Under normal circumstances, Helene would have avoided both the boat and the water. She’d never learned to swim and was terrified of drowning, but it wasn’t any different than the terror she’d felt over the past few days. Now she was not only hungry and thirsty, but cold and wet. She had no tears left to cry, so she curled herself up as best she could to stay warm.
Time passed slowly. There was a full moon, which showed itself intermittently through the clouds. The man rowing the boat was silent, seeming to focus only on the task at hand. Helene didn’t feel like talking anyway. She just wanted to get to the other side of the loch where she hoped to rest for a moment and gather her strength. She had a difficult task ahead of her and she wasn’t sure she’d make it.
The boat approached the beach and the man jumped out, pulling it up on shore where he again held out a hand for her to take. He helped her onto the beach and then turned to leave.
“Wait.” Helene called to him before he could get back into the boat. He turned and gazed at her. “Thank ye.”
He lifted a hand in acknowledgement and then jumped back into the boat and headed back toward Castle Treun.
Helene turned and walked away from the shoreline and into the trees where she slumped to the ground with her back to a giant boulder. She hoped no one would be looking for her any time soon but if they were, she thought that here she might at least be hidden from anyone searching the shoreline. She had nothing with her to make a fire. Shivering, she attempted to wring as much of the water as she could from her dress and shift. If she was going to survive long enough to get back home, she was going to have to find the strength to overcome the obstacles she would come upon. First and foremost was trying to figure out which direction to head in.
When the sunrose the next morning, Helene noted its position in the sky. She knew Breaghacraig was to the north and west, so she began her trek away from the rising sun. Thankfully the air was warming and as she walked her dress began to dry. She ate some of the food from the sack Brenna had given her and she drank from the waterskin she’d slung across her body. Replenishing it would mean finding a stream on her route. She had absolutely no idea where she was going, but she kept walking, stopping only long enough to eat, drink or relieve herself. Helene had never ventured too far from home, so finding a way back was foreign to her and seemed an impossible task.
Throughout the day, she’d felt the sensation of being watched. It had to be her imagination, because she hadn’t seen signs of another person anywhere at all as she walked. The crack of a twig had her spinning in circles, searching for what or who, she didn’t know. “Is someone there?” she asked. She thought about the men who had attacked her and Brenna on their travels with Dougall. They were dead, but there were others like them out here in these woods. She was sure of it. Fear kept her frozen where she stood. She stood this way for an unknown amount of time and then taking a deep breath began walking again. She couldn’t let thoughts like that prevent her from saving herself. She must continue on.
The setting sun was only partially visible through the trees, but she felt certain she was heading towards it. The darker it got, the more frightened she became. Every sound caused her to jump, her eyes searching the darkness for its source. She just might die out here before ever reaching home. The thought of it tore at her, causing her to double over, falling to her knees, but there was no time for feeling sorry for herself. She gathered what little strength she felt and got to her feet again.
Deep in the darkness of the forest, Helene carefully placed one foot in front of the other, afraid she’d trip over something or walk into a tree. She could barely see her hand in front of her face, let alone see where she was going. Exasperated at her situation, Helene dropped to the ground, where she would stay until the sun rose and lit her path forward. She didn’t believe she’d sleep much, if at all. Fear caused adrenaline to pump through her body. Another night alone in the dark woods left her with nothing but time to think about Dougall. Where was he? Did he know she was gone? Did he care? Mayhap he was like his father after all. Was he with Greer? The last thought had her violently shaking her head to rid herself of the images of her man kissing and holding that awful lass. Thinking about it was giving her a headache and a pain in her throat where she held back the sobs that wanted to come forth. She was done crying… for tonight. Would she ever get over this? So many questions and to this point, no answers.
Helene sank to the ground, her back to a large fir tree. Exhaustion was causing her to see things and hear things that weren’t there. At least she hoped they weren’t. Maybe she could close her eyes, just for a short while.
“Helene!” Dougall’s voice rang through the trees. “Helene!”
