Shortly afterward, Myrna was asleep too, her head resting on Eithne’s shoulder.
“Five,” Eithne finally said into the night air, though, of course, Myrna couldn’t hear the answer anymore. “There are five more lives that need to go.”
Her eyes closed, and she saw Rory behind them, along with other images – her mother’s body. Ivor, infected and dying on the forest floor. Callum’s family was killed for being the unfortunate ones in the way.
“Five, and then one more,” she whispered. “I’m coming for ye, Rory MacDuff. And ye’re nae prepared.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The Escape
They got lost in the woods almost immediately. There was no way to tell the direction from which the scream had come in this darkness, and there was no concrete trail to follow. But Ivor and Jonah pushed ahead through the forest because Ivor knew in the depths of his soul that Eithne waited for him on the other end.
After they’d been wandering half an hour, Jonah suggested they split up. “We’ll cover more ground that way,” the young man said. “And if either of us finds them, we can whistle. Like this.”
Jonah raised his fingers to his lips and let out a pleasant whistle like a bird’s song, so loud and clear that birds flew up from the trees a reasonable distance away, black against the moon as they fled.
“Can ye do that?” he asked Ivor.
Ivor nodded. He and Killian used to practice bird sounds all the time, signaling to each other on their little explorations where Ivor could just be a child again for a short time. He smiled swiftly at the memory, then handed Jonah his dagger – the one he so rarely used. “Be safe,” he told him.
“Ye as well,” Jonah replied and then darted off into the trees.
Ivor stumbled on through the dark, allowing his instincts to guide the way. If the canopy of the trees didn’t disguise the moon quite so well, he might be able to make out signs that he could track – but there was no such luck here.
What I need is a signal from Eithne. If only she had any idea that I was coming for her.
And then, as if she’d heard him, it came. Smoke rose in the distance, curling into the sky, beckoning him on. They’d started a fire, and in doing so, they’d shown Ivor exactly where they were keeping the women.
Ivor said a quick prayer of thanks, then set off in the direction of the smoke. It wasn’t easy. He had to stop occasionally, pulling himself up to treetops to ensure that he was going in the right direction, hoping and praying they’d still be there when he arrived. But he moved as fast as he could, and the smoke got closer and closer.
The sun began to rise, early as it always did at this time of year. It wasn’t a proper morning yet, but Ivor knew he had to speed his pace. These kinds of men were trained to wake with the sun, and if he reached them too late…
I’m coming. Just hold on.
And then, quite suddenly, he almost stumbled into a clearing. He crouched down behind a bush, surveying his surroundings before he acted. There in the center was the fire he’d been following this whole time, slowly dying out. Around it was an array of five bedrolls, the men in them shifting around as they woke up. Ivor stayed where he was, watching the soldiers pack their things away. One had an injury on his head; the others looked fine if a little sleepy.
“Go wake them,” one of the soldiers grunted. “Give them some water, so they dinnae collapse. Maybe a wee bit of bread. We wouldnae want the woman to lose all her lovely curves before Rory gets to play with them, would we?”
The men all chuckled, and Ivor’s hands curled into fists at his side. He forced himself to watch. The man with the head injury said, “What about the other wee slattern? Nae doubt Reilly took her maidenhood. She’s used. Do ye think Laird MacDuff will give her to me so I can reward her for me injuries?”
They laughed more as if this horrible suggestion was the funniest thing that they’d ever heard in their miserable lives. “If he does, ye’d better share,” one of the others leered. “After we went to such effort to get her here!”
“I’m sure we can all have a turn,” the original man replied. “MacDonnell was supposed to get her, but she saw to that traitorous weakling herself.”
So, Walter is dead? And Myrna killed him? I cannae say I expected such a turn of events.
Ivor felt a fierce pride, though. He was glad that Eithne and her sister were still fighting, still trying to protect themselves as much as they could in impossible circumstances.
The injured man walked over to a large tree a little distance away. Ivor moved forward, careful not to be seen.
There they were. The women looked exhausted, Myrna was bloody, and Eithne had little cuts on her neck. They were tied to a tree, embracing each other, cold but alive.
The injured man slapped both girls hard across the face. “Wake up, ye useless slatterns. Time to move, unless ye’ve got something else to offer us as a good morning.”
Ivor’s temper would allow him to hold back no longer. With a roar, he pounced forward out of the tree line. All five men yelled in alarm and turned to him, raising their weapons. His adrenaline pulsed, giving him access to a strength he hadn’t even known existed, the only choices now rescuing Eithne and Myrna or dying trying.
The men charged.
