An Executioner Knight.
That gave him an idea.
“Come,” he said. “We retreat back to our original encampment from this morning, where we first stopped and mobilized. But first, we secure this bridge with three hundred men. David, break out enough men from all three armies. Those men will remain here and hold this bridge at all costs. The rest of us– we return. Plans have changed and we must discuss the situation with The Marshal before proceeding.”
It seemed reasonable enough. Alastor wasn’t too keen to leave that very spot, the last place his daughters were, but Christopher and Ares managed to convince him that they needed to retreat in order to plan the rescue of his daughters. Everyone was acutely aware that the hostage situation wasn’t a good one.
They needed to figure out how to get the women out alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Her head waskilling her.
Corisande had awoken beneath a big oak tree, the last shades of day turning the landscape dark and eerie. She had no idea where she was but the moment she started to move, Gaia stilled her. She begged her to remain silent and unmoving.
That only confused Corisande further.
“What happened?” she asked.
Gaia was pressed up against her and Corisande could see her eyes darting about nervously.
“The Scots took us,” she said, trembling. “Don’t you remember? The man hit you on the head!”
“What man?”
“The man who stole the wagon with us inside it!”
Corisande lay there a moment, digesting what her sister was telling her. It took her a moment to remember the raid on the encampment, with Scots pouring out of the trees and stealing the wagons. She remembered leaping into the wagon where Gaia was clutching the bench, unable to convince her to let go.
And then… nothing.
Slowly, she started to sit up.
“Nay,” Gaia hissed, pushing her down. “They keep asking who we are, but I start crying and will not answer. They are waiting for you to awaken so they can ask you.”
Corisande shoved her sister’s hands aside, pushing at her because Gaia was trying to keep her down.
“Cease, Gaia,” she said irritably, finally sitting up and regaining her balance. She groaned softly, a hand to her head. “I feel terrible.”
Gaia looked at her anxiously. “What are they going to do to us?” she asked, tearing up. “Are they going to kill us?”
Corisande could see an encampment in front of them, with cooking fires spitting sparks into the night sky. A fog was rolling in from the sea, however. She could see it creeping in over the eastern hills.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Gaia huddled against her. “I do not know,” she said. “I think we are near Berwick. I could see a big city down that way.”
She was pointing to the south, but Corisande couldn’t see anything. It was too dark and there were hills in the way. Her head was killing her, she was confused and cold and hungry, and her patience was at an end. She stood up, with Gaia trying to pull her down again.
“Nay, Cori!” she gasped. “Where are you going?”
Corisande yanked her arm away from her sister. “Stay here if you want to,” she said. “I am going to find out what is going on.”
Determined, she marched across the mashed grass towards the encampment of Scots. Gaia ran after her, clinging to her, and she found herself dragging her sister along. Gaia was so much dead weight as Corisande approached a group of Scots huddled around the nearest fire.
“Who is in command?” she demanded. “I want to speak with him.”
The Scots looked at her in surprise. One of them stood up, setting his meal aside to face her. His eyes grazed her from top to bottom, lingering on her breasts before returning to her face.
