“One league! That seems very close. We have danger behind us and even more danger in front o’ us. Now I ken what a pastie feels like when it gets squashed down on the table under the rollin’ pin!”
Finlay laughed out loud when she said that, and Isla’s father turned around to see what the laird’s son was finding so funny. Isla was reassured by Finlay’s laughter but still could not resist looking anxiously behind her.
He gave her hand a quick squeeze, saying, “They will be completely baffled as to how we escaped back at the castle, lass. By the time they get around to checking the beach for tracks, the tide will have washed away the imprints of our feet in the sand. Which reminds me…” Finlay spoke louder so the men walking ahead would be able to hear what he was saying. “Start walking inland, lads! The tide’s creepin’ in. Get onto rough ground—pebbles, rocks, or grass—but no more sand.”
The line of men began to walk up the incline when they found an outcrop of smooth rocks that would hide their change of direction. Finlay and Isla followed them after she had put her traveling boots back on; they were lagging only slightly behind as Finlay helped her climb the rocky outcrop. When they reached the new path, he did not let go of her hand but continued holding it. His touch made Isla feel happy. The thrill of their escape had been replaced by the thrill of her being close to the laird’s son.
“We’ll still be followin’ the coastline, lass,” he told her, “but this terrain will hide our footprints better.”
If only she had known it, Isla’s eyes twinkled as she replied. “That is comforting to ken, sir, but it would be even better if ye an’ yer men had swords.”
He shrugged. “Och Isla, we’ll get some more, never fear. If we happen across a McTavish scoutin’ party, we’ll ambush them an’ take theirs, but I doubt if we’ll be so lucky. McTavish will be gatherin’ all his men around his castle when he finally realizes we’ve cut off his supply o’ mercenaries from the North.”
They spoke in soft voices to one another as the night passed and it became the early hours of the morning. It was only with Finlay’s strength and encouragement that Isla managed to tramp so far in such a short time. A hike that should have taken one day for a woman to walk ended up only taking half that time.
Isla was stumbling over her feet by the time they reached the boats. They had left a man behind to guard the long boats, and the first thing Finlay did when he met up with his soldier was to grasp his forearm in a Highlander’s greeting and then ask the man to give him his sword.
“I’m that glad to see ye, Fin,” the soldier who had been guarding the boats said as he removed his sword from the sheath hanging behind his back and handed it to his chief with the handle pointing away from himself. “But where’s yer own sword?”
The laird’s son brought Isla forward and introduced her. “This lady an’ her faither found themselves barred from leaving Castle Dougal as well, Kimbolt. I will leave her with ye to fill ye in on all the details while we launch. Make sure she gets into the vessel safely.”
The fatigue of a night spent walking so far over such rough terrain was rapidly catching up with Isla. Her legs were trembling, and her mouth was parched.
The soldier called Kimbolt called the blacksmith over.
“Master, please carry yer daughter over the water an’ place her in one o’ the boats.”
He walked beside Master McDonnell to make sure the blacksmith did not falter or drop his load.
After Isla was made as comfortable as anyone could possibly be on a hard wooden board that acted as a bench, Isla felt less faint, but she knew her troubles were not over yet. She had been on small boats once or twice before but did not like them. If a little boat bobbing on the coastal waters was anything to go by, Isla knew she would be in untested waters once the longboats were launched onto the open sea. She watched the black waves heaving and chopping on the ocean swells on the horizon, and her previous good mood evaporated.
“I must help with the rowing, Daughter,” her father told her. “They are one man short after the skirmish outside the bailey barracks.”
All Isla could do was shiver and nod with wretched acceptance. Would this nightmare ever end?
