“Where is this doorway, Leith?” she hissed, eager to continue now that she had committed herself to the plan.
“Slide along some and ye shall feel it.”
It was several feet before her hand left stone and touched wood. “A bolthole, do ye think?”
“Aye. T’was weel concealed with debris and there is but a wee walkway of rock between it and the loch that guards this side of Dubhglenn. A boat may have been tethered below or near. There is none now, but I cannae think any who fled by this route meant to swim the loch. It has been long forgotten, I believe.”
“It could be a weak spot if ’tis forgotten, a way for enemies to gain Dubhglenn.”
“We will send your love word of it when we are safe away. I have no plans to make use of such a thing. Open the door, sweeting. By staying close to the wall, we can work our way round to the front whence comes another difficult part. There is a large open space between the walls of Dubhglenn and any cover. We shall have to bolt across and hope that some clouds arise to dim what light there is.”
She forced herself to open the door. It required all her strength, and she pressed her body against it. Leith kept a grip on her in case she stumbled for there was no room for a misstep outside the door. She could easily be plunged into the loch. As she slowly worked the door open, she fought the urge to end the escape, to give into the temptation to return to Parlan’s bed and await his return.
Parlan scowled when Elfking hesitated in his steady pace toward Dubhglenn’s gates. He had little patience for dealing with the spirited animal’s vagaries. Although he could not stop himself, he felt foolish for driving his men so hard just so that he could reach Dubhglenn and a tiny lady one night earlier than planned. That the men suspected what pushed him only annoyed him more. Cursing when Elfking sought to turn toward the loch, he struggled to keep the horse on the road. Finally, he decided that he would waste less time if he allowed the animal his way for the moment.
“Ride on ahead,” he ordered his men. “This fool beast has a fancy to see the loch and willnae be dissuaded. I have decided that, this time, t’will be easier to let him have his way.”
“I will ride with ye,” murmured one burly man as he moved out of the group to ride at Parlan’s side.
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Parlan nodded curtly. It would be unfair to take his ill temper out on the man. Iain felt he was only doing his duty in insuring that his laird was well-guarded even so close to Dubhglenn’s walls. Although Parlan did his best not to gather too many enemies, he had enough to warrant the concern.
A frown touched Parlan’s face as he allowed Elfking the freedom to go where he wished. The animal’s ears twitched, and his nose worked much as if he were a hound on the scent. Parlan’s curiosity began to outweigh his annoyance. He thought now that the horse was not simply being contrary.
As the horse picked his way over the increasingly rocky ground, Parlan mused upon what had brought him hieing back to Dubhglenn. He honestly admitted that it was not only physical need. There was no doubt about his eagerness to bed Aimil again, but he was also eager to see her. He wanted to hear her laugh, to see her smile, and simply to talk to her. It was a source of some wonder to him to discover how thoroughly he missed her as a person and not just as a body that gave him pleasure.
When Elfking’s steps faltered, Parlan dismounted. Something drew the horse to a place the animal would not usually go, and Parlan wanted to see what it was. He drew his sword and heard Iain do likewise. Although he could not fathom why the animal would approach danger so doggedly, there was always the chance that it was a threat the horse had scented, and it would be wise to be prepared for it.
“We run out of land,” Iain muttered when they reached the edge of the loch.
“Aye, but the beast wishes to move on yet even he balks at trying to walk the wee spit of land between the walls of Dubhglenn and the waters of the loch.” Handing Elfking’s reins to Iain, Parlan ordered, “Hold him here. I will go along and see what draws the fool animal.”
He smiled grimly as he heard Iain’s soft mutter. The man did not like being left behind where his sword could prove useless. Parlan knew that Malcolm would have been far less reticent in his disapproval. Parlan also decided that he had better speak to Aimil about what tricks she had taught her mount so that he would not be caught by surprise by the horse’s actions again.
“Did ye think to try this door?” panted Aimil as she struggled in her battle to open the thick oaken portal.
“I nudged it and it gave. Do ye wish me to take a turn?”
“Nay, for if ye stumbled, I would never be able to hold ye and ye would end in the loch. I am near to having it open enough.”
“We but need a space to slip through and we being so slim it doesnae have to be a verra big space. ’Tis not enough as yet?”
“Nay. An inch or twa more will do it though.’ Tis noisy,” she hissed when the hinges groaned, strained by use after so long.
“I should have thought to grease them.” He waited with her to see if any alarm was raised. “’Tis not as loud as we think,” he murmured a few moments later. “Try again. Mayhaps the noise doesnae carry beyond this spot. Come, loving,” he urged when she continued to hesitate. “There is always the chance that someone may look into our chambers and see that we are gone. We cannae hesitate now.” When she pushed the door and again the screech of little-used hinges rent the air, he cursed softly then said, “Ignore it and continue.”
“But, Leith,” she protested, sure that the noise would be audible to a guard.
“There is no other way nor is there any other time for us. If we are caught now rather than later, so be it, but let us not hesitate simply because of the risk of capture. Push.”
Parlan pressed himself against the cold stone wall. He was not sure what he had heard but something had alerted him. Listening tensely, he waited for either a movement or a sound. A soft whicker from Elfking told him that whatever had drawn the horse to the spot was still there.
His searching gaze suddenly fixed upon an irregularity in the line of the wall. Although he was not well-acquainted with this side of Dubhglenn, he felt sure that there should not be a length equal to a man’s height jutting out from the wall. Even as he stared at it, a soft noise reached his ears, and he was certain it had come from that spot.
Carefully he edged toward it. As he watched, he detected a faint movement accompanied by the faint squeak of something akin to rusted hinges. Suddenly he knew what he saw. Some long-forgotten exit was there, and someone was trying to open it. Someone had found an old doorway in the walls of Dubhglenn and was struggling to put it to use.
He was assailed with an odd mixture of emotion as he moved even nearer. There were only two people in Dubhglenn who would need to leave it so stealthily. Angrily he wondered how they had managed to get so close to succeeding. They were supposed to be closely watched yet no one had apparently noticed their absence.
Catarine hesitated as she passed Leith’s chambers. The youth had been cold to her, quite insulting in his attitude. That stirred her to fury, but she suddenly recognized his possible usefulness. He was very close to Aimil. The girl listened to him, and he had a great deal of influence with her. Catarine realized that she could find the way to drive Aimil away either by using him directly or by the use of some information she managed to glean from him. That he had shown her little warmth was something she felt sure she could change.
