Gawain handed his brother a close cap and one of the swords. Then he pulled a pistol out from underneath his shirt and handed it to Caillen silently. The brothers began to jump around and run in place. Emer lifted her eyebrows.
“It’s to warm up our hands and make the heart beat faster,” Gawain said, seeing her puzzled look. It mimics the feeling of battle before it has even begun, and besides, cold hands cannae grip a sword.”
Emer knew it was time. She stood up and waited.
“Let’s go,” Caillen said grimly.
They walked out of the crypt and sidled along the shadows created by the moon against the walls. The horses were tethered at the railings which separated the graveyard from the chapel. As they mounted, Emer recognized Menzies and the hired horse from the Nethy inn. She recognized Gawain’s horse, as well.
I should have ken Caillen would never leave Menzies behind. I’m glad I have ridden this horse before because I have a better idea of how fast it can go if we must run for our lives.
The sentry post house loomed out of the darkness in front of them. There was no welcoming fire or torch lighted next to the gate, and this meant there was no way of seeing how many guards were on duty until they made themselves known.
Praying that there was no secret password or greeting, Gawain raised his voice, “Whit like are ye, lads. Let us pass.”
While he did this, Caillen slipped off Menzies and crept around behind the sentry post.
Only two guards came out of the small hut. They were already yawning and readying themselves to share the night watch.
“Is it ye, Carson? Are ye nae meant to be mustering back at the bunkhouse? We attack auld Maclachlan’s castle in the morn.”
“Aye,” Gawain said gruffly, “’tis me, Carson. I’m leaving early for a bit o’ scouting.”
“Who’s the wench? I didnae think we’d be over there long enough to need camp followers.”
The men guffawed as though they had made a particularly accurate observation.
“Oh, she’s nae one. Just the new maid wanting to visit her ailing mither. Come on now, lads, let us pass.”
As the sentries came closer, they were able to see more clearly, and things began to raise the alarm in their minds, “Hang about, what’s the other horse for? Why is it saddled for a rider?” Then, after peering closely at Gawain’s face in the dark, the one sentry yelled, “Yer face is bashed something sore, man..., ye’re nae Carson!”
Both soldiers lowered their muskets and pointed one at Emer and one at Gawain, “Give us yer names or we fire!”
One sentry dropped to the ground with Caillen’s sword sticking out of his chest. The strength needed for an arm to pierce a man’s chest through in one stroke was rare, but Caillen did it. The other sentry, seeing his comrade in arms fold over and die without a word, panicked and prepared to fire his musket.
There was a loud bang, and the other sentry fell down on the ground with a shot hole in his back before he had time to level his weapon and fire.
Caillen dropped the spent pistol and vaulted onto Menzies. He had used the time when Gawain was bantering with the sentries to slip into the hut and open the gates.
All three of them kicked their horses into a gallop and shot out the gateway. The lodge and guard room were a-bustle. There were shouts of “To the gate, to the gate!” and “ ‘Ware the guards’ quarters, two men are dead!”
Then the shouts and yells were swallowed in the night, and all Emer heard was the thump of horse hooves and the beating of her heart in her mouth. They had escaped! But they were not safe yet.
* * *
It was paramount to put as much distance between themselves and Sutherland lodge as possible. This meant no talking, no shortcuts, and no breaking pace. The horses must be kept at breakneck speed, full gallop until the animals could run no more.
This was a velocity Emer had never dreamed of doing in her entire life. Even though her father had allowed her access to any horse in the stable, she preferred using Bessie for most of her travels. In her youth, she had saddled up her father’s steed once and tried to jump it over some stiles, but the experience had left her shocked and sore. Shocked because it was one thing to watch Farmer Wylie vault his stallion over a five-foot fence and then attempt it oneself, and sore because her father had given her a hiding.
There were so many things to think of all at the same time. Urging the horse on by kicking her heels into its side, guiding with the reins and holding onto the pummel for dear life; standing up on the stirrups to lessen her weight on the animal’s back. Not one mile down the main road, Emer felt her strength begin to wane.
Gawain and Caillen seemed to be in their element. They were pushing their horses to the limit by hitting the hindquarters with their hands and giving loud shouts: “Onward, onward! Ride for yer lives!”
Slowly, inch by inch, Emer fell behind. The Highland heath spread out grey and empty on either side of the road, offering no refuge or hiding spot. She must ride for her life until her strength gave out or be recaptured. The only solace she could find in her frantic mind was that no sound of pursuit came behind them. They had managed to put enough distance between themselves and the gate for their enemies to lose sight of them. But with the road and heath being so barren, all it would take for Sutherland soldiers to catch up was if they slowed down. In the moonlight, their three figures stood out like beacons.
But surely only one figure stood out now. Gawain and Caillen had pulled nearly half a mile ahead. They were safe behind a welcome curve in the road. As they approached the mountains, trees began to appear next to hedgerows. It was not a refuge, however. Any soldier coming this way would be sure to check the undergrowth, and they would bring hounds.
When Caillen looked back, Emer was nowhere in sight. He pulled Menzies to a halt. It took a while for Gawain to notice; he reined in his horse, saying, “Are ye mad? They will ride like the devil ‘til they reach us. Leave her!”
