“Dinnae throttle me,” he said, gasping slightly.
“Sorry,” she said, loosening her grip.
“You must haud on tight. I must have my hands free to climb.” He was already starting up the cliff as he spoke and by the time she thought to say this was a bad idea they were already twenty feet up.
She made the mistake of looking down. Their horse was already shrinking, looking more like a Shetland rather than a destrier. She closed her eyes, trying not to think what would happen if she fell.
“Count to ten,” he said. “Out loud.”
She did as he asked, each number matching a movement of his hands. He was gripping the smoothest of rock as if he were a spider climbing a wall, not a human. She had reached the number eight when he stopped moving.
“You can let go now,” he said.
She opened her eyes. They had reached the goat track. “Oh,” she said, glancing over the edge and almost falling as a wave of dizziness struck her. He grabbed her and held her tightly.
“You all right, lass?”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, her dizziness easing as she stared into his eyes. She felt sure he would kiss her again but she was to be disappointed.
“This way,” he said, letting go of her and starting to walk along the track.
If she ignored the height they were at, it wasn’t that difficult a journey. The goats had stamped down on the vegetation, creating a flattened path with an overhang in places where the rocks jutted out from the mountainside.
Here and there they had to duck, Eddard more often than her. On a couple of occasions they were reduced to crawling on hands and knees but as long as she ignored the cold wind and didn’t look down, it was simple enough to make progress.
It was when she looked down that dizziness threatened to engulf her. Each time she did what he’d told her to do during the climb. She counted. By the time she reached ten, it passed.
She had no idea how long they traveled for, the path seeming to go forever.
Eventually, it began to slope downward. In the distance she could see a silver ribbon weaving its way toward the mountain. “That is the track we seek,” Eddard said as if reading her mind. “See by that forest?”
She looked and there was a dust plume similar to the one they’d seen on their approach to the mountain range. “The tax train?” she asked.
“Aye, we are not too late. Come on, we can speed up now the ground is approaching.”
Ten minutes later they were off the goat track and marching as fast as they could through soft clumps of heather until they reached the track. Eddard looked left then right. “We shall wait here,” he said. “They will be with us once they round that corner ahead. “It will not take long.”
“What are you going to tell them?”
“The truth.”
They waited. Jessica took the time to lay back in the heather that grew so profusely next to the track. She looked up at the sky and tried to slow her pounding heart. It felt as if she’d been on edge for days, without a chance to relax.
That wasn’t true. She had felt relaxed each night, held in his arms, warmed by his skin. She felt a tingle inside her as she had when he’d kissed her. She was going to miss this place. Despite the danger, despite the cruelty, she would miss it.
She would miss the peace of moments like this, being able to lay next to a road without traffic roaring by. She would miss the sights and smells and most of all she would miss the Highlander who was motioning for her to sit up at that very moment. She couldn’t stay even if she wanted to. Caroline needed her.
“Here they come,” he said as the noise of horses grew louder. “Be ready.”
Chapter Thirteen
Eddard made sure Jessica couldn’t be seen. From his position in the middle of the road all he could see was heather and long grass. That way there was no risk of her getting a stray arrow to the face. He’d already warned her that if this failed, she should make her own way back to the island. There, Angela would know what to do next.
He waited as the first of the horses came into view. Destriers all of them, as tall as the one he’d taken from the stable, better armed though, their bodies covered in mail. Atop them were tall soldiers, the best trained the King could spare.
Behind the first four horses came the chests, hanging from the sides of the beasts, each one heavy with gold and silver. The movement of the train was slow, the weight of the taxes dictating the pace.
They saw him a moment later. Two of the men thundered toward him, leaving the rest to maintain their steady pace.
