Opening his door, she slipped inside only to halt and stare blankly at the empty bed. It took her a moment to realize what had happened. Hurrying down the hall, she flung open the door to Parlan’s chambers. When she saw that bed was also empty, she began to smile. Leith had convinced his sister to escape. Considering the time that had passed since the pair had retired and the lack of any outcry, there was a very good chance that they had succeeded, and Catarine’s smile widened.
A sudden stir in the keep prompted her to leave Parlan’s room quickly and shut the door. If she was caught there, she would be asked why she had raised no alarm. She listened tensely, but there was no outcry simply a sudden bustling, an increase in activity. Her smile widened again as she understood the meaning of it. Parlan was returning. Laughing softly, she hurried to greet him, planning to let him see that she held no grudge and was more than willing to assuage whatever sense of insult Aimil’s flight had inflicted.
“’Tis nearly open enough, Leith,” Aimil gasped as she paused to rest a moment.
“I should have tested it more. We waste precious time struggling here.”
“Are we to give up then?” she asked with weak hopefulness.
A light smile touched Parlan’s face. He stood near enough to hear the faint whispers and knew his suspicions were correct. Aimil and Leith were attempting to escape Dubhglenn. Reluctantly, he admitted that it hurt to think she would wish to leave though he understood the reasons behind the escape did not need to be personal ones. The reluctance he heard in her voice was some balm to that hurt. She did what she felt she had to, not necessarily as she wished to.
“Aimil.” Leith sighed. “Now isnae the time to argue that again. We do as we must.”
Aimil pondered crossly that duty was a tiresome thing. She would much rather follow her heart which told her to stop breaking her back on the door and go back to Parlan’s chambers. Her heart did not care what people thought if she chose to stay in Parlan’s bed or if he did impoverish her father with his demands for ransoms. Unfortunately, the demands of pride and duty were proving as strong as her heart’s desires.
“’Tis that I dinnae like losing Elfking,” she muttered, and was disgusted with herself for mouthing such a lie, one that was so easy to see through.
“Of course,” drawled Leith. “I err in thinking ’tis the other stallion ye crave to see return.”
“Dinnae call him a stallion.”
The twinge Parlan had felt when she had spoken of Elfking passed. He knew she loved her horse and that she would feel regret for having to leave him behind. Her defense of Parlan, however, indicated otherwise. It at least revealed that she was not without some feeling, enough to make her object when she thought a slur had been made about him.
“Many call him so. ’Tisnae an insult for a man.”
“I shouldnae like to be compared to a beast not even one as fine as Elfking,” she gritted as she pushed against the door. “There is more to the man than that. I thought ye kenned it.”
“I do.”
“Yet we try to flee.” She knew the length of time it was taking to break free of Dubhglenn was why she faltered.
“I told ye the why of it. Even if we dinnae succeed, mayhaps t’will spur him to confide the plans he speaks of or to show us some results.” Leith released his hold upon her to test the opening of the door. “Nearly there.”
At that instant, Aimil gave a push that utilized all her waning strength. She suddenly realized that it was not only a lack of use that made the door hard to open but the fact that it rubbed against the ground. Her efforts had finally caused it to clear that obstruction and made the door suddenly jerk open. She fruitlessly tried to maintain her balance but fell to the ground.
For an instant she hung at the edge of the small rocky walkway. She frantically tried to gain a hold that would stop her from falling into the cold, fierce waters of the loch but failed. With a soft cry, she plunged into the cold waters. She fought to regain the surface, but her clothing pulled her down. Fear gripped her when she discovered that she might lack the strength to save herself, having seriously depleted it in trying to open the door. She struggled against the paralyzing effects of terror as fiercely as she fought to remove the clothes that worked to hold her beneath the water. The fear began to win as she failed to remove her clothes in time. For a moment she tasted sheer terror, then blacked out.
“Aimil,” Leith cried, staring in horror at the black waters that had swallowed her.
He hurried to tug off his heavy boots only to find a sword thrust toward him from out of the dark. Stunned though he was, he recognized the large form that dove cleanly into the water after Aimil. Another man suddenly appeared at his side, and together they tensely waited for Parlan to reappear.
Parlan fought a gnawing panic as he dove after Aimil. She had been fully and warmly dressed which would act as an anchor. So too there was little light beneath the water to aid him in his frantic search. When he located her, her limpness frightened him. He fleetingly noted that she had tried to lessen the weight that pulled her down but suspected that she had lacked the strength.
Four hands reached out to aid him when he broke the surface of the water, but he ordered Iain and Leith to a wider spot where they would not be so dangerously hindered by the lack of room. Once he got Aimil upon the bank, he worked to free her of the water she had swallowed. He joined Leith in softly thanking God when Aimil spewed out the cold water and spluttered briefly awake. Curtly refusing any assistance, he carried her to Elfking then into Dubhglenn where he intended her to stay.
Chapter Twelve
It was a moment before Catarine noticed the bundle that Parlan carried. She halted abruptly in her advance toward him to glare at the limp, dripping Aimil. Briefly hope flared that the girl was dead but that was killed when the girl groaned. After Parlan turned Aimil over to Old Meg’s care and ordered Leith escorted to his chambers, Catarine followed him into the hall, watching him hungrily as he changed into dry clothes even as she plotted another way to be rid of Aimil.
“I told ye to watch them carefully, Malcolm,” Parlan growled.
Malcolm took the rebuke as his due. He could have placed extra guards upon the Mengues but had not. Even a long-forgotten doorway would not have aided them had he done so. It was an oversight and he acknowledged it.
“How did ye come across them?” he asked Parlan.
“That horse sniffed her out. He forced me to that point. ’Tis weel that he did. Fool lass could have drowned.” Parlan downed almost a full tankard of ale that was served to him. Where did that door come from? Did none ken it was there?”
“I think not. The stables have been there since your father’s father’s time.”
