“I… daenae ken.” Edith shook her head, shrinking into herself. “It could be anyone. If word reached a soul about his marriage to me, they’d call him traitor. Is treason nae reason enough to kill a man, these days?”
She made a very valid point, which chilled Heather to the bone. Would she be called traitor, in turn, for falling in love with Owen? Was that why her father was so incensed, in case the same thing happened to his daughter that had happened to his son? She could not think about that now. Edith’s misery and liberty took precedence.
“Blast,” Brandon muttered, under his breath. If Edith had no knowledge to offer, then they really were at the end of the road in the search for William’s killer.
At that moment, a bell jangled. Bemused by the sound, Heather’s attention flitted toward several strings that lay in defined lines across the farthest wall. Tiny bells hung from them, and one line was stretching and bending, as if someone were pulling on it.
“Intruders. They’re here,” Edith whispered, anger and fear twisting her face into a volatile expression. Heather would nothave blamed her for wanting to go out there, to face the Englishmen who were threatening her peace, but she refused to lose a brotherandher sister-in-law. William would have wanted Edith to be safe, no matter what.
Owen jumped up, bracing for action. “Is there a way out of the forest that willnae have us crossin’ paths with those Sassenachs?”
“Aye. I’ll show ye.” Edith stood on shaky legs, supported by Sawyer. “But I’m nae comin’ with ye. I’ll stay here until I’m old and gray, like me grandmaither before me.”
Heather shook her head. “No, Edith. You must come with us. I would know more of the sister that I did not know existed until recently. I would keep you safe, in William’s stead.”
“Aye, and we daenae have time to discuss it,” Owen said, gesturing to Sawyer.
With a look of reluctance, the man-at-arms grappled Edith and threw her over his shoulder, while Owen did the same to Heather. It was most unceremonious but, with the English practically baying at the door, Heather supposed it could not be helped. She certainly did not want to slow down their escape, although she sensed that Edith would be more than capable of fleeing on her own two legs.
“I’ll kill ye an’ all for this,” Edith muttered, pounding on Sawyer’s back as they ran for the nearest door. Not the one they had come through, but one that led out of the back.
Sawyer grinned. “I willnae stop ye, but wait until we’ve got ye back to Dunn Castle before ye end me days, eh?”
A truce seemed to form as the party left the cottage, and Brandon—always a step ahead—remembered to swipe up the carpet bag that Edith had been packing. The poor woman must have seen, for she ceased pummeling Sawyer and, instead, began hissing directions into his ear.
Charging through the sodden forest, Heather grimaced at every bump and bounce of Owen’s shoulder, digging into her abdomen. Still, she did not complain. If Edith could be brave, then so could she.
“Do you see anyone?” a voice shouted in the dark. Unmistakably English.
“I can’t see my own hand in front of my face! No, I can’t see anyone!” someone replied, to the grumbling dissent of other voices. The soldiers were closer than Heather had realized.
Nevertheless, the unlikely band of allies raced on, following Edith’s whispers through a perilous labyrinth, peppered with unseen traps. Everything looked the same to Heather, especially with the shadows and the rain conspiring together, yet Edith appeared to have perfect knowledge of where she was and where she was going.
“There! I see people!” a cry went up, prompting Owen, Brandon, and Sawyer to increase their pace.
Behind them came the telltale crash of soldiers in fiery pursuit. A chase had begun, and all Heather could do was cling onto her beloved and hope that a few of her father’s men fell into Edith’s carefully laid traps.
If not, they would never return to Dunn Castle. Instead, they would find themselves on a journey south, back to the castle that Heather never wished to see again… and to an executioner’s gallows that would takeherbeloved from her.
21
“Where now?” Owen barked: his heart on fire. It had nothing to do with the strain of carrying Heather across his shoulders, for he barely felt her weight, but the persistent snag and snare of the forest undergrowth kept sapping at his strength. He could only stumble so many times before he actually dropped Heather, and, with the English close behind, he could not risk that sort of lapse.
Edith, now running as swift as a doe on her own two legs, with her bow and arrow in hand, gestured ahead. “The entry to the forest path is just through those trees.”
“Can ye run?” Owen cast a sideways glance at Heather, who hissed and groaned on his shoulders.
She nodded. “I believe so.”
As smoothly as possible, he set her down and took hold of her hand, half-dragging her toward the tree line. As he went, he put his fingers underneath his curled tongue and whistled as loudly as he could.
Off to the right, the thunder of horses made the ground tremble. It was far too easy to mistake for the sound of soldiers, and his heart lurched in his throat as he saw Edith swing her bow around toward the incoming creatures.
“Horses! They’re our horses!” he shouted, and not a moment too soon, for Edith had loosed an arrow. But she must have heard at the very last second, for she swung her arm out. The arrow sailed past the ear of Owen’s mount and landed harmlessly in a tree.
Reaching open ground, beyond the tree line, the horses came to abrupt halts beside the fleeing humans. In a frenzied mess of climbing and pushing, everyone got onto the first horse available, until Brandon was the only one sitting alone.
“Ride! Ride as fast as ye can, to the mountains! We’ll meet at the pass!” Owen hissed, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. He did not want the English to know where they were headed.
