10
Isla was petrified that her hand would touch something gooey and disgusting in the dark. A thrumming sound was all around her as she scuttled along the tunnel on her hands and knees. She heard her father speak from in front of her.
“Ye can stand up now, Isla. The tunnel has become higher.”
This was true, although when she lifted her hands in the air to feel the ceiling roof above her, she realized it was not high enough for Finlay Dougal to stand upright.
This black tunnel cannae go on for much longer. I don’ imagine Finlay would want to walk all the way to safety with his neck tilted to one side.
As the thrumming got louder, the tunnel widened even more. The next thing Isla knew, she saw gray light ahead of her. It was moonlight. The tunnel ended, and she felt rough rocks under her traveling boots and smelled sea water in the air. The tunnel ended at the ocean.
Isla’s father explained to her, “The escape tunnel must have been hidden behind the castle walls many years ago. Only a true laird would ken about it.”
This had to be true and made Isla wonder about all the other secrets the laird’s son would know about his old home. As Finlay walked out of the crevasse in the wet rocks, she saw him look around for one moment to get his bearings.
I bet he never thought he would ever have to use that secret escape route. His faither must have shown it to him many years ago, and now here we are.
When he was sure all his men and the McDonnells were waiting on the rocks for him to emerge, the laird’s son began to speak.
“Our boats are some leagues away. We must start our march immediately before they discover we are gone and release the hunting hounds. The sun sets late in the summer months and rises early.”
Alex stood up and checked the edge of his plaid for signs of dampness and sand because he knew having sand clinging to the edge of his plaid over such a long walk might chafe the back of his knees. Then he said, “The hounds will nae be able to follow our scent if we follow the coastline.”
Finlay grinned. “Och, Alex, I feel naked without me sword. Can ye remember if there are any villages established close to the beaches?”
When the men began chatting amongst themselves about weapons and who might they encounter along the way back to the boats, Isla approached Finlay.
“I have nae had the chance to thank ye for savin’ Faither an’ me yet, sir.”
He looked down at her, and it was then she noticed that he seemed happier than he had ever been when he was at the castle. Isla believed this was because the laird’s son preferred the open road stretching in front of him more than he did the confines of an established residence.
He did not answer her as such but raised his voice slightly to call Master McDonnell to walk with them before turning back to her to say, “I am indebted to ye, Isla. If it had no’ been for yer great courage an’ wit, we would still be stuck back at the dungeons.”
When Isla’s father came to walk next to them, Finlay said, “D’ye mind tellin’ me a wee bit about where is that fortune o’ yers, Master blacksmith? It’s nay good for us to be walkin’ away from it if ye have left it back at Dougal Castle. Buried treasures are easier to find than ye think! I don’ like leavin’ the Steward to take his time diggin’ for it back there.”
Isla thought this was a very good question. What was the point of amassing what anyone would acknowledge being a considerable fortune when it was trapped back behind the bailey keep’s walls?
Master McDonnell winked at her. “Dinnae fash, Isla. Finlay Dougal, every last coin is hidden away at the Inverness goldsmith’s, where he pays me a nice sum to keep it there. That’s why Isla an’ me were tryin’ to head in that direction. As ye ken, a goldsmith would never hand such a vast sum over to anyone, except the holder, an’ I would have never taken it out except to save me daughter.”
Isla looked at her father’s worn hands, scarred from many burns with black trapped under the fingernails. He looked like the last person who would hold such a goodly amount of gold, but then again, her mother had been the daughter of a wealthy farmer, and she could remember how nice their quarters had been decorated when her mother was still alive. As Isla grew up, she had never wanted for pretty gowns, trinkets, or poppets. She should have known she was an heiress. Her mother’s dowry money would have been passed on to become her own dowry when she got married.
They had to walk carefully at the beginning of the long trek back to the boats because the rocks on the beach were slippery and jagged, but once they reached the sand, Isla took off her boots and stockings and walked on the silver sand barefoot. She found herself drawn to the laird’s son once more.
“How close d’ye think we’ll be to the boats when the sun rises?”
He did not answer her immediately, and Isla was about to ask the question again when he raised his head and looked down at her, saying, “Forgive me, lass. I was off wool gatherin’. We are marchin’ toward the McTavish boundaries without swords, so I beg for ye to be patient and repeat yer question.”
“Willingly,” Isla said with a smile. “Only that now ye’ve told me what is causing ye to have such a distracted look on yer face, I prefer we discuss that instead!”
That made him smile, and she was glad to have lightened his mood, even if it would only be for a short while.
“How far away from it are we?”
He looked up at the starlit sky and then around, gauging the landscape so he could calculate the distance better.
“I would say the McTavish coastal border is no more than one league distant.
Isla did not like the sound of that at all.
