“Because he intends to slay me,” Daniel said grimly.
“Nay,” she protested. “You were insensible when they dragged you into camp. You are no more certain of its exact location than I.”
“Gorm led me near enough to cause MacCurran worry.” He grabbed her arm, his grip painfully tight. “He cannot risk setting me free. Not if he is truly committed to protecting his kin. We must leave of our own accord. Now, while he believes you acquiescent.”
“MacCurran is not the villain you believe him to be.”
Daniel’s expression softened. “I know you think well of him, but put yourself in his boots, Isabail. What if he set me free and I revealed what I know? What if MacPherson made sense of my ramblings and was able to derive the location of the camp?”
A chill slid down Isabail’s spine. The outcome of such events would be horrific. “But to kill a man simply for what he knows... that’s barbaric.”
“A chief must be willing to do what other men cannot.”
Isabail stared at Daniel. His words rang true. MacCurran was first and foremost a Highland chieftain, responsible for the men, women, and children of his clan. He would do anything to protect them, including sacrificing his own life. She knew that without a doubt. Was he capable of slaying a good man to accomplish his aims? Aye, he was. Sir Robert had been a good man, and MacCurran had slain him to capture her.
“But how can we escape?” she asked. “There’s a guard outside the door.”
He took her hand and drew her toward the back of the hut. “While you’ve been out and about the camp, I’ve been busy.” He unsheathed his small eating dirk and cut the last tongue of wood holding a panel in the wall. The square of wall fell onto the grass outside, and the crisp winter breeze blew across Isabail’s toes.
Not entirely certain she was doing the right thing, she followed Daniel through the hole.
As Daniel led her quickly behind one of the other huts, keeping to the shadows, Isabail glanced over her shoulder. “Where are we going?” she whispered. “The horses are staked at the opposite end of the fort.”
“We cannot leave without the necklace.”
She dug her feet in, coming to an abrupt halt. “Are you mad? I’ve searched the camp thoroughly. The necklace is not here.”
He faced her. “It’s here.”
“If you truly desire to leave, we must go now,” she urged. “Once MacCurran discovers me absent, escape will be near impossible.”
“I will not leave without the necklace,” he said stubbornly. “It’s the reason I am here.”
The dark circles around his eyes and the tight pull of his skin over his cheeks reminded Isabail that Daniel was still ill. She tempered her frustration and once again attempted to reason with him. “Why are you so convinced MacCurran has the necklace?”
“Niall MacCurran brought it with him from Duthes.”
Isabail blinked.Duthes?“But the necklace was stolen from Lochurkie. How did it get to Duthes?”
He tugged. “None of that matters. We are wasting time. We must enter the caves quickly, before we are discovered.”
“Nay.” If they did not make it to the horses soon, all of this effort would be for naught. She tried to free her hand from his grasp and failed. “Cease this madness, Daniel. The necklace is not worth our lives.”
He snorted. “It’s worth far more than you know.” Yanking her sharply, he threw her off balance. As she stumbled, he caught her around the waist and pulled her toward the entrance to the caves. “I’m not leaving without it. Protesting will only cause further delay.”
Even ill, he was considerably stronger than Isabail. He dragged her along with surprising ease. Aware that she was slowing them down at a time when speed was of the essence, she reluctantly ceded the moment to him and ended her struggles.
He smiled down at her. “A wise decision.”
As they ducked into the ancient storeroom at the far end of the camp, they came face-to-face with young Jamie MacCurran. He slid the sack of dried beans he was carrying to the floor and eyed Daniel with a heavy frown. “Lady Isabail? Is all well?”
* * *
Pushing open the door, Aiden peered inside his chamber. There was no sign of Isabail. Even the brazier had gone cold. Where could she be?
He scanned the close, coming to an abrupt halt at the roundhouse with a guard standing outside. De Lourdes. He covered the distance between the two huts in a dozen long strides. But when he swept aside the fur drape, he found that room, too, was empty.
“Where is de Lourdes?” he asked the guard.
