Caillen had to pause only a fraction of a second before saying, “Ride on, Gawain. That’s an order. At least one Maclachlan must live. Tell faither to make ye Laird with me blessing if I dinnae return.”
And on those words, Caillen turned back and went to fetch Emer.
Chapter Thirty-Two
He found her lying in the road. She had collapsed off the horse, and it was nuzzling her face with its nose.
“Nay,” Emer whispered when she saw Menzies coming back around the bend, “Go back.”
He ignored her. Moving swiftly, he tethered her horse to Menzies’ saddle and then bent to pick her up. Was it his imagination, or had she lost weight? She seemed to be light as a feather when he hoisted her into his arms, but then the flame of conflict was burning bright inside him, and it was apt to make things appear easier than they were in general.
He threw Emer into the saddle and then jumped up behind her. As they settled themselves in for another gallop, faint shouts and the sound of horse hooves could be heard behind them. He was not sure if it was the night air making the sounds carry further than they were, but there was no doubt more than two horsemen were in hot pursuit.
He kicked Menzies hard and smacked the horse on the rump. The stallion leapt into a lightning-fast gallop, drowning out the sound of pursuit that was following them – but they knew it was still there. Menzies, as trained as the animal was for precarious situations, was overloaded for galloping. Emer could feel the poor beast laboring under its load. She tried to shift herself so that her weight was not pressing down on the horse’s neck, but it was no use. The minute she tried to raise herself, her head spun around, and she knew she would fall. And then Caillen would stop to pick her up again – and then they would be found and killed.
Was it her imagination, or could she feel the thunder of horse hooves shuddering the road? The sound of Menzies’ agonized breathing raked Emer’s soul to the core. The overburdened stallion would fail and stop. She could see the animal’s eyes wide with alarm, its mouth was foaming, and its sides were slick with sweat. The horses stumbled, and its hooves tripped underneath it – they fell forward a few inches, but Caillen pulled the reins with so much force he was able to hold Menzies up for the final stage.
They reached the village. Caillen knew just beyond it was the crossroads and at the crossroads was a forest, mountain streams, and trails leading in all directions. The village cottages flashed past, only a vague blur in the moonlight. Emer was dimly aware of them leaving the road and entering a gap in the trees. Menzies slowed to a trot as tree branches swatted at their heads. Caillen ducked and pushed Emer’s head down until she could smell saddle leather. After a while, Emer heard the sound of water, and then Menzies crossed a mountain stream. It was bubbling and swift from the recent rains.
Caillen allowed both horses to drink their fill before dismounting and filling the water skin he always kept in his saddlebag. He handed it to Emer to drink but chose to dip his hands in the steam and satisfy his thirst that way. Then he guided the stallion and tethered horse downstream, making sure to keep their hooves in the water and on river rocks. Birds began to twitter and waken in the boughs above them. The sky grew grey and then lightened. The forest ground seemed to absorb any sound of the horses’ breathing and nickering and the sporadic squeak of leather when Caillen moved his weight.
Emer knew nothing of this; she was fast asleep with her cheek squashed against Menzies withers.
* * *
She awoke when Caillen urged Menzies into a canter.
“Where are we,” she asked huskily.
Caillen said nothing; instead, he handed her the waterskin again. Emer drank the refreshing spring water and felt some life come back into her.
When he could see she was feeling better, Caillen answered her question.
“We’re approaching Chieftain MacIntosh’s lodge. He should be able to tell us what’s happening up at the keep.”
Emer sat upright and then turned around to ask Caillen if she should ride the hired horse again.
“Nay, I wouldnae risk it,” he replied but did not say whether it was because he was still afraid of pursuit or if he did not trust her not to fall off again.
They approached the Lodge gates, and the sentries took Caillen in to see their Chieftain immediately. Not five minutes later, a maid ran out to the horses and handed Emer a cup of milk and a sugar cake. Emer ravenously drained the cup, but the girl warned her, “Dinnae rush. Yer belly will rebel,” but it was too late – Emer spewed the milk straight out again. The shock of sudden food had caught her stomach off guard.
The maid consoled her, “I will fetch some more to ye, lady, just nibble that sugar cake while I’m gone.” And this time, Emer listened to her.
When Caillen came out, Emer was seated on the hired horse and looking much better. As they rode out, she could not resist asking him what had been said inside.
“Eating and drinking as much as I could hold were more important than any discussion, lass. But I have good news for the main. Chieftains MacIntosh and Lochart have been doing some spying of their own. We have Gilby to thank for that. He was left unmolested and so was able to raise the alarm when we didnae return. The siege has not happened yet, nor is it likely to – Gilby has rallied all our forces to hold them off. They did allow one messenger through. It seems their bargaining chip is to say they still have me as a prisoner and will kill me if faither does nae hand over the keys to the keep.”
Emer said nothing while she absorbed this news. They had to get back to the keep before the old Laird did that.
“It’s best if ye go on ahead without me then,” she said after some thought, “I’ll only hold ye up.”
“Gilby is waiting for ye at the first outpost. Ye can bide yer time there while I put the lid back on this festering brew,” Caillen said, all his concentration on the road ahead.
And true to his word, further down the road, Gilby was standing at the bottom of a small hill that had a stone watchtower perched at the top of it.
“It’s good to see ye, Cai,” Gilby said, his eyes suspiciously wet and red.
“Dinnae go cryin’ on me now, Gil,” Caillen said with a smile, “I hold ye responsible for Emer in the meantime. Watch out for the stairs.”
