Page 18 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

“Well then,” said Teasag, sensibly. “There’s only one thing to do, I’ll walk into the next toon, an’ find another cart to travel on, then I will send ye help…”

The cartman looked unsurely. “Och, actually Miss, I was going to suggest we wait an’ flag down another cart for ye to travel on, or send a message into the town for assistance. I didnae mean ye should walk on yer own…” he chewed his lip thoughtfully. Teasag could tell he was turning the thought over in his mind. “Well, I would come wi’ ye, but ye never ken who might make off wi’ the cart’s load…”

Teasag eyed him keenly. “If I get started noo, hopefully, ye can be on the way again afore afternoon,” she said. “An’ like ye said, there’ll likely be someone in the town who can help us both out…” The lad, who was wavering, suddenly gave in.

“Och, I suppose,” he said, reluctantly. A gappy grin shone in the center of his mouth for a second. “Go on wi’ ye, afore I change my mind… an’ tell em’ to send help!”

Before he could look, Teasag was gone, sprinting down the narrow furrow, which led to the town, without even a second glance back.

“Thief!” the woman’s voice came high and bold over the top of the prickly hedge which lined the roadside. Struggling to hear, Teasag crouched down behind the straggling hedgerow, which had appeared out of nowhere to provide a convenient shelter to hide behind.

“Thief! Set him afore the sheriff an’ make him pay!” another cried.

Teasag listened, captivated but anxious. She had thought she was alone on the road, yet now there were several voices within the immediate vicinity.

“Hang him!” called a shrill voice. “He’ll get what’s comin’ for sure!”

For a moment, Teasag hovered, unsure. She couldn’t see the commotion unfolding up ahead, but it was clear she had stumbled upon some sort of scene.

Briefly, she wondered about merely turning around and going in the opposite direction, back down to the market town they had just left. Which was probably where this small gaggle of women appeared from.

Then, a man’s voice startled her, making her turn around.

“Get yer hands off me!” he said, as pushing sounds filtered through the prickly bush that Teasag was standing behind.

Instantly, she fought her way through the undergrowth, stopping momentarily to loosen a bramble which snagged her hair.

“We willnae!” came the first voice again. Hazily, the thickset outline of a well-built woman came into view. Squinting, Teasag made out a ring of them, with an unfortunate man cowering in the middle.

Creeping nearer, she could see the top of his head, his light brown hair bobbing up and down in the patchy sunlight. For now, that was all she could see of their quarry, as the women had him surrounded.

From behind, Teasag counted five women, all of various heights; some stooped with age, others young and haughty, but all with the same accusing face.

“Lemme go,” he tried again. His voice was muffled, but his intent was clear. From the resistance the women put up, she guessed he was punching and kicking, but it was to no avail. The circle of females closed in, tightening around him like a spider on a fly.

Teasag watched, curiously. They were like one unified body moving in on him. The nearest thing she had seen like this was watching a flock of magpies attacking a hapless cat, back at the McCallum keep.

Teasag watched uncertainly; what she should do - join in? Walk past? Ignore them or run off in the opposite direction? But despite her hesitancy, she could not help but gaze at the unfolding scene.

Then, without warning, it suddenly turned,

“Get him, hold him down!” hissed the first one, a thickset woman, with a line for a mouth. “I want my brooch back from him afore he burns in the fires of hell!”

“I havenae got any brooch!” the man protested, but it was to no avail. Their hands were everywhere, devouring him, like tentacles.

Teasag still couldn’t see the unfortunate man’s face, but she could see him being lowered to the ground and pressed down by the heavy hands which surrounded him.

“We’ll see,” said a black-haired woman. Looking into her face, Teasag would have put her age at about forty. She had one of those faces that only existed to express dissatisfaction, with taut lines that ran across her forehead and pressed deep into her cheeks.

“Nae, get off me!” the man screamed, as, without any compunction, the woman’s ungainly hands pressed up underneath his plaid. The man’s screams got louder. Finally, he succeeded in getting himself loose.

“Stop him!” shouted another woman. Teasag couldn’t see her face; they all looked the same, in their matching headscarves.

But the man was too quick, pushing his way through the crowd with the slipperiness of an eel. He darted forwards, almost spilling out into the privet hedging that Teasag was hiding behind.

The desperate man crashed head-first into her, almost knocking her off her feet.

For a minute, the world span, and the landscape submerged into the sky. Teasag grabbed at the first available thing to steady herself with; him.