Page 44 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

He kept his eyes closed, preparing himself for the inevitable, though he didn’t want to see what kind of torture Lynton was going to deal this time. He was fine with not knowing, happy even. The element of surprise had never worked on him as much as the dread of anticipation, of knowing what was coming and being unable to stop it.

When the touch came, it was a gentle one, much to Eiric’s surprise. The voice was closer to him now, and even in his confusion and dizziness, Eiric could tell that it didn’t belong to Lynton.

With a blink of his eyes, he looked up at whoever was there, his head pounding when the light found his eyes once more. His vision was blurry and dark at the edges, and it took him several moments to see anything more than an unfamiliar silhouette.

“Marion?”

There was no mistaking it, even in his condition. It was Marion who was standing there, impossible as it sounded.

Impossible. Of course.

She wasn’t there. It wasn’t real. He had already started hallucinating, he thought, and it was a small comfort to have hallucinations of Marion. In a way, perhaps, she would be there in his final moments.

“Yes, it’s me,” the voice said, and it sounded so much like her that Eiric was caught off guard for a moment, surprised by his own mind’s ability to conjure it up so convincingly. “We don’t have much time, Eiric. We must go, now.”

Eiric laughed, shaking his head.

“That’s nice,” he said, to no one in particular. “I suppose me brain still thinks I can leave. I canna even walk like this.”

“Your brain?” Marion asked, sounding confused. “Come, Eiric, please. I beg you.”

As she spoke, Eiric felt an arm snake around him. Someone was trying to pick him up and drag him out of the tent, he thought, and so he tried once again to focus, but all he saw was Marion.

Can it be? Can she really be here?

“Marion?” he asked tentatively. “Is it really ye?”

“Of course it’s me,” Marion said.

She sounded like she was struggling, out of breath and barely able to speak, and that was when Eiric decided that it was time for him to use any strength he had left to try and walk out of there.

If Marion was real, then it meant that he still had a fighting chance.

But if Marion was real, it also meant that she was in danger.

They had to get out of there as soon as possible. Eiric followed Marion, trying to help her carry his weight as much as he could, and with staggering steps, they rushed out of the camp. Eiric couldn’t see anyone around, and for a moment, he wondered if Marion had somehow killed all of them, but that sounded unlikely. Besides, if they were all dead, she wouldn’t be rushing to get him out of there, he reasoned.

No, she hadn’t killed them, but she had outsmarted them.

The thought brought a small, proud smile to his lips, even as a groan of pain escaped him as Marion pushed him up onto the horse. He didn’t know how he made it onto the saddle, but soon, they were both riding away from there, leaving it all behind.

“Hold onto me, Eiric!” Marion shouted, as she sped through the woods. “Hold onto me tightly and don’t let go!”

Eiric did as he was told, wrapping his arms tightly around Marion and leaning against her, too tired and too wounded to do anything else. He was vaguely aware of the trip to the castle, the woods rushing by them as they rode, the chilly wind keeping him awake.

And the more he stayed awake, the more aware he became of his surroundings and of his situation. Marion had saved him. She had come to find him all alone, and she had saved him.

A part of him wished that she wouldn’t have done such a thing. She had put herself into so much danger for him, and she could have easily been killed by the English. Eiric didn’t know what he would have done had she died because of him.

But he couldn’t be angry at her. She had saved his life, and she had done it so masterfully that he could only believe she had learnt everything he had to teach her. Perhaps she had been right after all, he thought, when she had insisted that she was ready to fight the enemy.

“Ye’re a good lass, Marion,” he said, and though he could tell that his words were slurred, he didn’t know how he could possibly fix it. “Ye’re a good lass and a good warrior. Ye were right . . . ye’re ready for anythin’.”

There was no answer from Marion, or if there was, Eiric didn’t hear it. In fact, he wasn’t aware of anything until they crossed the gates of the castle, and a crowd formed around them.

He could hear the gasps and the shouts of the people. Someone was ordering someone else to grab Eiric and bring him to the healer, someone else was asking if he was alright, if he would live, and yet another was wailing. It must have been his mother, he thought. He didn’t want her to see him in that condition.

Through it all, he could feel Marion’s presence next to him. She was a solid warmth against him, refusing to leave his side, no matter how many times those around her told her to do so.