She smiled at him and, without thinking, reached out to take his hand. Ian squeezed her hand in his. “Race you?”
He chuckled. “If ye dare.”
Leaning forward in their saddles, they took off, laughing as they went. The Scottish air rushed through her hair. My goodness, the land was beautiful. Rolling hills and vast landscapes. Mountains in the distance.
As they rounded a bend in the road, and she turned to Ian to declare her victory, but the look on his face made her go still. She followed the path of his eyes to see that a retinue of armored men was in the road ahead of them as if waiting for their approach.
From what Rhiannon had gleaned on this journey, the Scots didn’t wear armor like that.
My god, it had to be impossible. But there they were clear as day.
English men.
They’d been beaten.
“Turn around,” Ian ordered, and she did exactly that, following him at a breakneck pace, their horses already exhausted from the previous burst of speed but sensing their urgency, moving their hooves with haste.
“I know another way,” Ian said, and she nodded, not wanting to risk speaking and losing her concentration or her grip on the reins.
The other way, he knew, was treacherous, down the side of a mountain. They dismounted and led their horses carefully down, the sounds of thundering hooves behind them.
Then they hid for what felt like forever under a rocky overhang as the English above them shouted orders and searched. Rhiannon pressed herself into the earth, becoming one with the dampness of the moss and leaves. She clutched her dagger so tight that the handle was bound to leave an impression on her palm.
“I should have known,” Ian growled, cursing under his breath.
“We both should have.” Everything before now seemed too good to be true, too easy. And now the English blocked their path to the destination she’d dreamed of.
More cursing. “My brother’s scouts will have seen the English by now.”
“They will fight?”
“Aye.” Ian ran his hands through his hair. “I should be fighting with them.”
The sounds from above moved on, and they waited until Ian was certain the coast was clear. They continued in the gulley they were in, hiding whenever they heard a noise until they came to a wide riverbed.
“We need to cross here, then up another crag, and we’ll be there.”
Rhiannon nodded.
“I’m sorry ye’re going to get wet.”
“I’m in for the adventure, remember? And I don’t want to be caught by my brother and his men.”
Ian grinned.
She tucked her skirts up and through the belt at her waist, ignoring Ian’s wiggled brows at the sight of her legs. Then she removed her boots and hose and put them in her satchel.
“My god, woman, ye tempt the devil.”
“Is that what you’re calling yourself?” she teased and began walking into the water. She’d made it nearly halfway across with the water going up just over her knees, and then there was a distinct drop-off.
Thank goodness she knew how to swim. But sitting on her horse’s back, Goosie was not pleased with her current situation.
“Stay put, kitty,” Rhiannon said as her gown soaked up the water. She held tight to the stirrup, swimming and allowing her horse to drag her. The weight of her gown was cumbersome, and she wished she’d taken it off. That was something she’d remember for next time, she supposed.
They made it to the other side, and she climbed out, her gown felt as if it held half the water in the river. She wrung it out as best she could and then pulled on her dry hose and boots, grateful that those two things were not completely soaked.
They picked their way up another crag approaching the castle from the side. There wasn’t much sound coming from the castle. She would have thought she’d hear the sounds of battle preparations, but Ian didn’t seem concerned.
