“Shh.” Fergus paused. “We shouldn’t be talking about it.”
“What did they decide?”
“I don’t know.”
They were quiet for a moment; then Fergus settled down and drew his tartan over his head. “Either way, it’s not up to us, so stop your blathering, you cockeyed nag. I need my sleep.”
“As do I, yousmellyarse. And it wasyouwho started it.”
* * *
An hour later, Amelia ran through the darkness, panting heavily, stumbling over rocks, and leaping over patchy hollows. Her skirts whipped back and forth with each harried stride, and her heart burned with wild, crippling panic.
She prayed that Duncan had not yet noticed her absence, or that she would not bash headlong into Angus, who was scouting the woods just ahead and wanted to deliver her corpse to the English camp. It was a terrible risk she had taken, for if her captors discovered her flight before she reached the English soldiers, there was notellingwhat they might do.
Please, God, let me find the camp. I cannot die here.
Then she felt a presence.…
The sound of footsteps across the glen, stealthily approaching, swift and fluid in the night, like some kind of phantom animal. They were coming at her from behind.
Or from the side … Or at a diagonal … Perhaps they were in front of her!
Dashing forward as fast as she could, she glanced over her shoulder.
“Stop!” the voice commanded.
“No, Iwillnot!”
Before she could recognize anything in the heavy gloom, something smacked sidelong into her.
Thump! She hit the ground and her breath sailed out of her lungs. Fire lit in her veins as she comprehended what was happening. She was trapped again beneath Duncan’s heavy body. Where had he come from? She was sure she had gotten away. Did he have eyes in the back of his head?
“Have you lost your mind?” he asked, rising up on hands and knees above her, his hairfallingforward. He wore his shield on his back, his sword in the side scabbard, his axe tucked into his belt.
“Let me go!” she cried, more desperate than ever to escape and reach safety.
Her palm slammed down on a rock, and before she could form a single conscious thought, she had swung it through the air and struck Duncan in the side of the head.
He groaned and toppled over, cupping his temple in a hand. Hefellonto his back. Blood oozed forth, between his fingers.
Horrified, Amelia scrambled to her feet.
He tried to move. He twisted and squirmed. Blood poured everywhere, dripping over his knuckles and down his arm.
God in heaven! What had she done?
She looked over her shoulder toward the edge of the forest, knowing the lake was not far beyond. There were English soldiers there. She couldstillreach them.
Indecision crippled her mind. She was shocked by what she had done to Duncan; she had not known she was capable of such violence. But what choice did she have?
He groaned again, thenfellunconscious. Had shekilledhim?
Shaken, disoriented, and suddenly terrified that Angus would appear out of nowhere and make her pay for her defiance, she bolted for the woods.
She could not regret it. She had been abducted by enemy Highlanders. She’d had no choice but to save herself. At least now there was a chance she could survive and reach her own countrymen. She could see her uncle again and return to her home in England. Sleep in her own bed. Feel safe at last.
When she reached the trees, she skidded to a halt. It was pitch-black inside the forest. How would she ever find her way?
