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Lyndsay had been beside herself when the duel had taken place. At every moment, it felt as though Douglas was going to lose his life, but in the end, he had emerged triumphant. However, it seemed like a hollow victory when he was still prostrate on the ground with blood seeping from so many small cuts on his body. She had tried to cover him as much as she could, but he had lost so much blood already and his lips were ghostly pale. She kissed him and begged him to come back to her, but his eyes were closed, and although his chest rose and fell, the breaths were becoming labored. Pain and anguish flooded through her heart, and she prayed to everything she had ever known to save him. The stars and the moon and the gods and goddesses were all invoked to save this man, this man she loved despite having cost her everything. There had already been too much sorrow in her life, and the last thing she wanted was for yet another dark day to descend upon her.

She ran her hands along his chest and continued to kiss him, hoping that one of them would have enough magic in it to save him.

Lyndsay gathered her clothes and got dressed again, shivering against the coolness of the morning. She paced back and forth, wondering what to do. She strayed from the small glade they had found in an effort to find water, but even when she took a few steps, she became afraid that she would lose her way and end up never finding Douglas again. Her throat ran dry, and there was a dull thud in the back of her mind that didn’t seem to go away no matter how often she closed her eyes or tried to force it away.

When Douglas wouldn’t awaken, she slid her hands underneath his shoulders and tried to haul him up, thinking that if she could at least get his body onto his horse, she would be able to lead him away to…somewhere. Where she would go, she did not know. She doubted she would be welcomed into the Highlands, and there was always the danger of being confronted by the men who had tried to kill them. With Douglas in this state, there was no chance he could live up to his vow of protecting her, so it was up to her to protect him.

Her natural inclination would have been to return to English territory, but that wasn’t possible given the decree of the English king to hunt down any Scotsman found. She gazed around at the natural surroundings and couldn’t tell if they were still in England or if they had drifted into the Highlands. There were no markers, and the land didn’t look any different from one side or the other. Fear clung to her heart. It dawned on her that this was the moment when she truly felt alone. Even when she had been imprisoned by Douglas, she at least had been in familiar surroundings. Now there was nobody to help her, and she found that her own wits were lacking.

When she tried to pull Douglas up, she was overwhelmed by the weight of him. Muscles tightened and tensed, but she couldn’t even drag him an inch, let alone toward his horse. Red-faced and out of breath, she placed her hands on her hips and tried to think of something else. It occurred to her that she might be able to tie the rope around him and use that to pull him about, but it was laborious to try and get the rope around his limbs and the trunk of his torso, and even when she tried to drag him away, it was an impossible endeavor.

It was sad to admit it, but it seemed as though she was stuck in this glade until she could find some way to help, and she was faced with the same feeling as when her mother fell ill. All she could do was sit with her just as she was sitting with Douglas now, waiting for the inevitable to happen. Tears swam in her eyes as she knelt beside him, taking his great hand in hers. She brushed it against her cheek and kissed it, wishing that she could do something to bring the life back to him. She kept an eye on his chest, but as every moment passed, she became more frightened than before that one moment would arrive when it wouldn’t move. The relief when he did take in a breath was temporary, for it was immediately replaced by fear again, and she was beginning to drive herself crazy with worry that she might never see him safe.

She traced her fingers along his lips and down his body, the body that had caused so much pleasure the night before. It seemed wrong for it to be over so suddenly, and she wasn’t sure what was going to happen for the rest of her life. How was she supposed to survive after having lost a father and a husband? It had taken her so long to find someone to love, but it had been snatched away from her almost immediately.

Lyndsay knew that staying here was only going to result in Douglas dying. If she was going to get any help, then she had to leave him and try to find a stranger who would be kind. She decided that she was going to take the sword with her and make notches on trees so that she would be able to find her way back, and she was in the process of pulling Douglas to prop him against the tree to give the illusion that he was sleeping in case anyone came across him in her absence. But just as she was heaving him along the ground, grunting and groaning as she did so, she heard noises.

She stopped immediately, letting his arms fall to the ground. Her eyes darted around in an effort to try and see the source of the noise. She held her sword and crouched low and strained her ears. Flickers of movement could be seen through the forest, but she wasn’t yet sure if they were friends or foes. A lump formed in her throat, and tension rippled all over her body, for she was afraid that this might be the rest of Fergus’s men coming in search of their leader. She braced herself, hoping they would pass on without finding this place, for the closer the voices drew, the more she heard the rolling burr of Highland accents. It made her heart freeze, and she stayed as still as a statue until she heard a woman’s voice.

There had been no women with the warriors.

Lyndsay knew this might be her best and only chance to get help for Douglas. She ran out to get their attention before they passed by.

“Help! Help!” she cried.

Men and women and children turned to her. They carried baskets filled with berries and fruit and other boons of the forest, and they looked suspiciously at Lyndsay. Children cowered behind their mothers, and it was only then that Lyndsay realized she was still holding the sword. She dropped it as quickly as if it had been burning.

“I don’t mean you any harm! I promise. I just… It’s my husband. Please help us,” she said in a pleading tone of voice. She turned and pointed to the glade. A few of the strangers murmured to each other, and then a man strode forward and joined her.

The man sucked in his breath when he saw the sight that greeted him.

“What on earth haes happened here?” he asked.

“It’s…it’s a long story,” Lyndsay said, feeling self-conscious about being among these Highlanders when she was English.

“Which one of these did ye say is yer husband?” one of the women asked. She had hair like straw. Lyndsay pointed to Douglas. The woman nodded and added, “I dinnae hear much of English lasses being married tae Highland folk.”

“Yes, well, we haven’t been married for long,” Lyndsay said, forcing a smile. “Will you help us? I’m afraid that he’s going to die.”

“Aye, that he will. Ye can come with us. My name is Hamish,” the man said.

The woman introduced herself as Aileen, but the other names were lost to Lyndsay, for there were too many of them, and she was not in the frame of mind to remember them all.

The men came and lifted Douglas onto a horse and led them away.

“What about the other one?” Hamish asked, brushing his curled black hair away from his face as he spoke.

Lyndsay glanced down at Fergus’s body.

“You can leave it here. The wild animals will want their feast,” Lyndsay said.

“Who was he?”

“Someone who wanted us dead. Someone who was mean and nasty.”

“Nae like yer husband at all then,” Hamish let out a small chuckle.

“No, not at all,” Lyndsay said.

She fell into step with the women and was offered some food and water, which was welcome. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how hungry and thirsty she was. She trembled and was overwhelmed with the kindness offered by these people and was relieved that Douglas was getting the help he needed.

The initial awkwardness she felt about being English had already left her mind. These Highlanders were not like the ones she had encountered before. They were not quick to hatred or to anger and instead seemed eager to help.

She was led back through the forest, following a path that only the Highlanders seemed to see. A plume of smoke rose, and she was brought to a small village with stone huts and humble buildings. The people wore simple clothes. In the background, there was the hammering of metal at the blacksmith’s and the sounds of leather being tanned. Chickens clucked as a boy ran after them, trying to gather eggs.

“We’ll take him tae our healer. Ye look like ye could get some rest. I’ll let our laird know that ye are here. I’m sure he’ll hae his questions for ye. It’s nae every day that we encounter an English lass out in the country.”

Lyndsay nodded and was led by Aileen to a small fire where she could keep warm. More water was brought to her, as well as some salted meat and cheese, which helped to fill her belly. She nibbled on the meal and cast anxious glances toward the healer’s tent, where Douglas was being tended to. Before the laird could come and find her, a healer emerged from the tent and came to her. The expression was neutral, and Lyndsay feared the worst.

“If ye would like tae come and see yer husband…” the healer said.

Lyndsay wondered if this was to be her final goodbye, but the healer assured her that Douglas was going to be well. When Lyndsay walked into the tent and saw that Douglas’s eyes were open, she broke down in tears and flung her arms around him, praising the heavens for bringing them to this place. She peppered him with kisses and ignored the healer’s warnings that Douglas was still weak and needed his rest. She cupped his head in her hands and told him that she loved him, sealing her words with a kiss.