“Wait,” Kenna snapped.
Balloch smirked, but allowed her to continue.
“Do you want me dead?”
“No, lass. You are the one that gets to live. My God, Duncan, does she know nothing?”
Duncan did not answer. He was still in his defensive stance.
“I know enough. It would suit your purpose better if I went willingly, would it not?”
“Yes. Make no mistake, youwillgo willingly.”
“Let them go.”
“Oh, my dear, you will be willing, eventually, whether or not I do as you ask.”
“I am not asking. I am warning. Go on, ask Duncan how much trouble I can be when I am unwilling.”
Balloch eyed the man for a moment, reading only bloodlust in the other’s eyes. He pretended to consider for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, they can go. But Duncan comes with us.”
“No. Duncan will see the women safely away, in that wagon they said was ready. Duncan, give me yer dagger.”
Her savior reluctantly reached back to hand her the weapon from his belt. It wasn’t possible to defend six women against twice as many men, so he had little choice.
She turned the blade on herself and pressed it to her belly, just beneath her ribs. Thankfully, Duncan couldn’t see it, but even in the dark, Balloch did. He inhaled slowly and held his breath.
“I will watch from the parapet,” she said. “If they all are not allowed to get over the hill to the west, I will jump. If anyone tries to touch me, this blade will finish me. It is an easy choice. You can have me alive and willing, and fight Duncan another day, or you can kill us all now.”
Duncan’s growl told her just what he thought of her plan. The older man’s upset seemed to please Balloch immensely.
“Agreed. But I will have your word that once they have cleared the rise, you will not jump and you will hand over the dagger.”
“You have my word.”
“Not good enough, lass,” Duncan said. “Ye will give yer word to me.”
Kenna knew what he meant. He was telling her he trusted her word if she would give it. “Aye, Duncan. I give you my word. I will not take my own life.”
“Yer vow. Say it.”
Kenna rolled her eyes. “As you please. Duncan…MacPherson is it?”
Duncan was physically jolted by the question. “Nay, lass. Duncan Keith.”
Kenna nodded. “Duncan MacLeish, I vow that, if you and the women are not followed and drive the wagon past the rise, I will not take my own life.”
CHAPTER FORTY
From atop Carlisle Folly, she watched Duncan and the five women ride away. She assumed Balloch would have men waiting beyond the distant rise to ambush them, but there were nine of his men within sight, and what few others he had could hopefully be bested by the lieutenant to the King’s Champion.
With her last glimpse of the wagon, she watched Duncan hand the reigns over to the woman who rode next to him, preparing for the attack he must have expected as well.
Kenna was pleased to see Balloch’s mounting frustration as he repeatedly watched the west road while his men saddled horses. She dared not taunt such a man, so she pretended not to notice.
“Move faster,” he shouted. “I want to be away before Keith comes after us!” To her, he said, “Come, my dear. You see he is away. Give me the dagger and come down from there.”
Unfortunately,Kenna’s hands were tied to her saddle and the reigns firmly wrapped around Balloch’s hand as he pulled her horse into a gallop down the east road toward the sea.
