She followed him across the grass inland to the far side of the island. It took about an hour to reach the far side, the terrain growing tougher the further they walked. “Does anyone live here anymore?” she asked. “I can’t see any roads or tracks or anything.”
“I have not been here for years. When I was last here the abbey was occupied by about twenty monks. We shall see if they remain. There, look, the cottages.”
The rough wattle and daub huts had fallen in on themselves, jagged walls remaining but the roofs long since vanished. It took no more than a few minutes for Cam to work his way through them. “Nothing,” he said, rejoining her outside. “Let’s try the abbey.”
It took another hour to reach the abbey which was in little better condition than the cottages. The church roof had caved in, piles of stones lay covered in moss, the tiled floor slick with mold. The dormitory had fallen sideways, rotten wooden boards the only signs of the monks’ beds.
“What happened here?” Rachel asked, picking up a stone and examining it before tossing it aside.
“The barefoot man,” Cam replied. “I must see if anyone’s here.”
They searched together but there was no sign of life. The rain grew heavier, lashing down on the two of them as Cam’s mood worsened. “The thief lied to us for coin,” he said at last. “There is no woman here.”
“Then why did the barefoot man want to stop anyone coming to the island?”
“I dinnae ken but there is nothing else for us here.”
“So we go back?”
Cam shook his head before pointing out to the waters of the loch. “See the froth. A storm grows and our boat is not strong. We would be dashed to pieces in minutes. We must ride out the storm. “Come, the kitchen still has part of its roof. We will wait in there until the weather improves.”
The weather did not improve. The wind grew into a gale, causing what was left of the roof above them to creak and groan. Drops of rainwater dripped continuously onto the floor.
Cam found a dry patch in the darkest corner and they huddled there together, waiting for so long that the sun faded from view.
“You should go home,” he said, his voice loud to be heard over the gale blowing just a few feet away. “There’s no one here.” As he said it his arm went around her. “I shall miss you.”
Rachel wasn’t sure she heard him right over the wind and she dared not ask him to repeat it. She couldn’t say anything. Did he like her? Was she wishing so strongly that she was putting words into his mouth that he wasn’t saying. She listened in silence but he said nothing else.
“What will you do?” she asked, shifting closer to him, glad of the warmth of his body.
“Go back and defend the castle as best I can. God will have to decide whether I am worthy or not.”
She felt for the necklace in her pocket. It called out to her to be used. Slowly, she let go of it again. “I’ll go in the morning,” she said, as much to herself as to Cam. “I couldn’t leave you here all night. What kind of a guest would I be?”
“What kind of a host am I?” he asked. “I haven’t exactly provided the best accommodation.”
“It’s all right. At least we’re dry. Here, take some of this.” She shuffled out of her coat, throwing it over the two of them.
“Your top,” Cam said, looking at her arm. “It is torn.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll fix it when I get back.”
“What’s that?” he asked, taking hold of her arm and pulling it gently toward him. “They look like burns.”
“They are,” she said quietly.
“Someone did this to you?”
She was going to lie like she usually did when people asked about the marks on her but the truth was out of her mouth before she knew what was happening. “Julia did it to me.”
“Who’s Julia?”
“My adoptive mom. The woman who raised me and my brother.”
“She burned you?”
“With cigarettes. Little sticks that people set alight.”
