“We should go back.”
He stopped the horse. “You are afraid?”
“Aren’t you?”
He climbed down to the ground, looking up at her. “You can ride back if you wish but I intend to find out what is ahead. The tracks of those who came from the outlaws came this way. I will find out what’s going on up there.”
“Come back with me. We should both go. I’ve a horrible feeling about what’s up there. Please.”
“I cannae do it. As laird I swore an oath to protect my clan.”
“Even if that oath gets you killed?”
He nodded.
She looked at him and then at the wisps of smoke up ahead. She felt terrified. She wanted nothing more than to be back at home, talking to Donna about her wedding, about work, about anything at all if it meant never feeling this scared again. “I will not leave you,” she said at last, the words out before she even knew she’d said them.
“Then we leave our ride here and proceed on foot.”
She nodded, getting down with his help. “I feel so scared,” she said, unable to take her eyes from the smoke. “Why do I feel so scared?”
“There is nothing wrong with feeling fear,” he replied, taking her hand in his. “As long as that fear does not cripple you from taking action.”
She looked down at his hand, the spell of the smoke broken. The feel of his fingers entwined with hers made her feel better at once.
“Come on,” he said. “You can do this.”
“The question is why am I doing this,” she said to herself as they made their way quietly along the pass for twenty yards.
“This way,” he said, pausing to look at the ground. “See the tracks going along this sheep trail? They lead to the smoke.”
He led the way, still holding her hand. The smoke still rose in thin wisps. The closer they got the less white the smoke became. It turned purple, sparkling and shimmering in the morning light in a way that caught and held the gaze. Heather couldn’t stop staring at it as they got ever closer to the source.
They reached a ridge and then stopped. Lowering himself to the ground, Gavin motioned for her to do the same. He crawled forward until he could peer over the top. She joined him a second later, the fear inside her returning in force as she looked at what lay in front of them.
A dip concealed a hidden valley in the mountainside. At the far side was a cave entrance and sitting beside it on short squat rocks were three men and an ancient woman. The men were cruel looking with fierce swords strapped to their sides.
The woman was so frail she looked like she might collapse in the slightest breeze. And yet at the same time there was a strength of evil to her that made Heather shudder. She wore a black cloak with a hood from which straggly white hair sprang. She was talking to the men, pointing at each of them in turn.
In the middle of the group was a small fire onto which she regularly tossed things from a pile beside her. At first Heather thought it was a woodpile but then she almost gagged. It was lumps of meat, enough remaining of the animal for her to suggest it was once a wolf. The head had been placed on a rock as if it were one of the party.
Further away three horses stood, shuffling nervously, the smell of blood troubling them.
As each chunk of meat was tossed onto the fire, a purple flare of smoke rose. The crone’s fingers mingled with the smoke, twisting and turning as if she controlled it even though that was impossible.
“It is her,” Gavin said, drawing his bow. At once the woman looked up and though he was well hidden it was as if she saw him, vanishing into the cave a second later.
The three men were up and running toward Gavin and Heather before he had time to notch an arrow.
He grabbed Heather and shoved her away before firing the bow. The arrow struck the nearest man and he fell at once. The others ran on, they were seconds away.
“You must flee,” Gavin said. “I will give you time.”
“I can’t ride,” she replied, tugging at his arm. “Please, come with me.”
Her pull on his arm sent his next arrow high. The men scrambled up the side of the gully, almost upon them.
“Come on,” Heather said, grabbing his hand. Together they sprinted down to the horse. They made it just in time, climbing on as the two men swung swords at them.
The horse galloped down the mountain pass, leaving the two men far behind. “Who were they?” Heather asked over the sound of the horse’s hooves.
“Outlaws,” Gavin replied. “Clan men would not be so stupid as to chase on foot with their horses ready nearby. The tall one was Jimmy the Snout, I did not ken the others.”
“And what about the woman. You acted like you knew her. Who was she?”
“The barefoot man’s mother,” he replied. “I thought she had vanished into whatever darkness she came from. Now it all makes sense. She is mustering the outlaws together. She must be controlling Mungo somehow. I should have guessed. I must warn my men. Be warned, war is coming, Heather Frazer. I just hope we are ready for it.”
