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Munro eventually pulled himself up. The bed groaned, as though it was relieved to not have the weight of the man upon it any longer. Amelie clenched her jaw, fighting against fatigue and weariness. Munro had not been a benevolent captor. There had been a small cup of water, but nothing else. Hunger gnawed at Amelie’s stomach, but she reminded herself that she had endured those feelings before, when she was a child. If she had lived through them then, then she could live through them now. Back then she had Fleur and Pascal to rely upon, now she had Evan. If she had been alone she never would have been able to summon the courage to act, but Evan helped instill strength within her.

As soon as she was left alone, she would work on escaping. Munro rubbed his temples as he walked towards the door, pulling it open. To Amelie’s dismay, he called one of his men to heel. Like the others, he was mean and surly. His eyes were glowering coals. They were mean men who had lived mean lives, and they wished to lash out at a common enemy in an attempt to avenge the sins against them. Sadly, for them living a good life meant taking things away from other people.

“Watch over her. Make sure she dinnae leave,” Munro said, thrusting a thick finger in Amelie’s direction. The man nodded and came into the room, holding a flagon of ale. He drank deeply as Munro made his exit. Amelie looked towards the ceiling, wondering how she was going to get past this obstacle. Although she felt brave enough to speak now that her life depended on it, she knew that it was out of character and if Munro learned of this it would arouse suspicion. The new guard did not seem fatigued either, so she could not try to sneak past him while sleeping. The only thing in her favor was that he did not pay much attention to her. Could she creep up on him? Perhaps she could wrap the rope around his neck and pull the cord taut until the air was blocked from his lungs.

No… that wasn’t in her nature. She wasn’t strong like Fleur. The thought of violence made nausea shudder through her. What she truly needed was a moment to slip away. Amelie’s strength was in not being noticed. If she just had a chance to slip through the door then she could move among the shadows and escape unseen.

Unlike Munro, this man was not the talking kind. In fact, he barely looked at Amelie. He drank and he hummed to himself, picking at his fingernails and sighing, as though he would rather be anywhere else. As Amelie stared at him she wondered what had happened during his life to bring him to this moment, to shape him into a man who was willing to hurt other people in order to make himself feel better and to give himself another life. It couldn’t have just been a matter of suffering. She had suffered more than most people, yet never had her heart turned dark. His soul was in need of healing, yet instead of seeking salvation, he clothed himself in sin and pursued a selfish path. She wondered if he ever experienced regret or remorse. Perhaps those things were too bitter for him to taste.

What could create such hatred in the hearts of men? The question burned in her mind, and there was no easy answer. Sister Cora had taught her that forgiveness was the most powerful force in the universe, but some things were more easily forgiven than others. It also required a show of repentance on behalf of the sinner as well. Forgiveness was not given, it was earned. If these men did not show a new turning of the mood then there was only one end they were going to meet, and it was going to be at the end of a sword.

The moments trickled by like slow drips of water squeezing through tight rocks. Each one was another where Evan might have been closer to death. Amelie’s anxiety increased as she thought about him. Had Munro left to go and kill Evan? Even though Evan could surprise them by freeing himself, she wasn’t sure that he would be able to defeat so many men. At some point, the numbers would tell. He still needed her help.

Amelie remained as still as possible. She rested her head against the wall and turned her head away from her guard. Eventually, she noticed that he became restless. His foot began tapping against the floor, and he made soft, squirming noises. He tilted his head around, and then he rose, pacing around the room. He looked uneasy, and she realized that he had been drinking copious amounts.

“Hey, are ye awake, lass?” he asked. Amelie did not move. She kept her breathing deep. The man continued to pace, muttering to himself. Eventually, he seemed to reach a point of no return. “Ach, what’s Munro gaeing tae know? It’s nae like she’s gaeing tae gae anywhere,” he said. He opened the door and pulled it closed quietly after him, and then she heard rapid footsteps moving across the hall, no doubt where he was going to relieve himself.

As soon as he left, Amelie bolted upright and shook the bindings from her hands. She rushed to the door and pulled it ajar, slipping out and closing it behind her. There would be nowhere to run when the guard got back, as her escape would be discovered. She couldn’t afford to hesitate. The night was dark and this darkness slipped through the windows of the inn. Amelie made her way downstairs, keeping her head low and pressing herself against the wall. It was busy as usual in the inn. Most people didn’t seem to realize that there was a plot against Pascal brewing. Amelie’s breath was in her throat, for she worried that one of Munro’s men might spot her there and drag her back up to the room, this time binding her so tightly that there was no chance for escape.

In the shadows, she was obscured. The innkeeper was busy behind the bar. She waited for him to turn around, and then she dashed through the bar. She slipped between the men, who barely noticed her at all, and when the cool night air caressed her cheeks she breathed with relief. Her heart thumped against her chest and she smiled widely. The escape had been successful, and now she just had to find Evan. The longer she stayed still, the more dangerous it was for her to be recaptured.

The village had a completely different atmosphere at night. There were no hammers working at the forge, no comforting smell of baking bread, and no lowing of cattle. There were only the songs of drunken men and a feeling that something troubling was stirring in the darkness. Amelie headed off in the direction of the woods, for that was where she knew Munro’s men were taking Evan. They were going to kill him when hidden by the trees. They might have been able to hide their sin from the prying eyes of the villagers, but God still looked upon them and he would not forgive them. Amelie looked behind her. Evan had told her that he had sent a message back to Pascal. She hoped to hear the gallant thunder of horses arriving to save the day, but so far the night was silent.

Nobody chased her from the inn. She kept waiting for the alarm to be raised and for men to come pouring out, racing after her like hounds after a rabbit. Nothing like that happened, though. Perhaps the guard was trying to find her himself, afraid of how Munro would react when he learned that his prize had been lost. Maybe all the men Munro had gathered were already occupied. Either way, it allowed Amelie to head towards the forest, trying to figure out how she was going to help Evan when she got there. The most she could offer was a distraction, but perhaps that was all he needed. As long as they could get on a horse and ride back to Pascal then everything would be well again, and the warriors could hunt down Munro and bring him to justice.

However, just as she ventured into the woods she heard someone nearby. There was a flicker of movement in the darkness. It was a man. She presumed it was one of Munro’s guards. Amelie waited, but then she realized that the man was heading in her direction. She looked around and picked up a thick branch with which she would defend herself. The man came into view and she whirled the branch around her head, ready to strike him between the eyes. That was until he threw his hands up in the air.

“Are ye Amelie?” he asked. “I’m Stephen, I’m with Evan.”

Amelie tilted her head to the side and then remembered him from the feast. She breathed a sigh of relief as her fears were allayed, and dropped the branch to the ground.

“Stephen? Evan sent ye for help,” Amelie feared that Stephen had been unable to deliver the order.

“I could nae leave him alone here. I went back tae the nunnery and told the men there what was happening. They rushed back tae the clan, but I came here. I wanted tae help him. I went tae the inn, but could nae see him. I spotted people walking taewards the forest. I figured this was the place where they would take him. It’s what I would dae in their position.”

Amelie nodded. “I tried tae help,” she wished she could say more things to make the situation plainer for Stephen, but it was still a struggle. However, she was determined to do this for Evan. “They only want me,” a dark shadow crept across Amelie’s face. “I was on my way tae save him.”

“Then we must hurry. I cannae let him down,” Stephen said.

Amelie was impressed by the admiration that Stephen had for Evan. They moved quickly through the forest, keeping their voices low. There was a moment when Amelie noticed that Stephen was looking at her strangely. Eventually, she could bear it no longer and asked him about it. She assumed that he was going to tell her that she should hide somewhere safe while he rescued Evan, for how could anyone believe she had the fortitude to save Evan? As it happened, that wasn’t what concerned him.

“It’s just that… ah… I was nae expecting tae hear ye speak,” he said, averting his gaze, as though he was embarrassed to ask the question. Amelie felt a little self-conscious. She wasn’t used to speaking, but the words had flowed swiftly and there was only one reason she thought could cause this.

“Evan is in danger,” she rolled her shoulders. Stephen nodded, accepting the explanation at face value. It still felt strange to speak, but without her slate there really was no alternative, especially when Evan’s life depended on her working with Stephen. She could not bear the thought of him dying purely because she remained silent. Amelie was curious about something herself.

“Stephen, hae Evan been happy?” she asked.

“Oh, he hae nae been himself. It’s as though he lost part of himself. He was distracted all the time. As soon as he hae the chance tae gae tae the nunnery he jumped at the chance, which surprised me, because it was a simple mission that dinnae require his skills. I suppose something drew him here,” he flashed a smile towards Amelie as he said this, and Amelie’s heart was warmed to hear it. There could be no doubt any longer that Evan loved her with all that he had, and she could only hope that she would not be too late to save him. They raced through the dark forest. Stephen used his tracking abilities to trace the movements of the guards, while Amelie kept her ears peeled for any sign of the men. They pushed away branches and moved hastily, foregoing a certain element of stealth. If Evan died then Amelie had no idea what she was going to do, so she did not dwell on this thought as it was too dire to face.

* * *

Evan’s feet were weary. He had been dragged through the forest, the men around him holding his arms tightly as they pulled him forward. He had tried to goad them more than once, appealing to their greed, but they weren’t having any of it. Munro had bought their loyalty, and they were too far into this plot to be able to pull themselves out of it. It was grim to be faced with men who had sold their souls to evil, who had seen no other way forward than to yield to the dark hand of wickedness, and forsake everything good about the world. There were many moments when he was tempted to attack them, but each time he counseled patience to himself, for the wrong moment might cost him his life.

He thought back to advice his uncle had given him, telling him that as a warrior it was just as important to know when not to strike as it was knowing when to wield strength.

They eventually stopped among a thicket of trees. He looked up, but could not see the moon due to the canopy of branches overhead. The men forced him to his knees. Evan was groggy. He breathed deeply, trying to channel his strength so that when he was ready he could unleash it in one powerful blow.

They were waiting for something. He wasn’t sure what, until Munro arrived. The giant of a man came trundling through the forest like a great bear. Bracken cracked under his feet, and Evan could feel the ground shake. Munro wore a snarling smile. There was no humor in his eyes, only darkness.

“I will send yer head back tae the false Laird as a warning. He shall nae cross me,” Munro said, holding his hand out. Evan’s sword was placed in Munro’s palms. Evan winced to see his elegant blade being wielded by a villain.

“He will never give in tae yer demands. Ye want something that he cannae give. The Highlands hae endured tyranny for tae long.”

“Tyranny?” Munro threw his head back and laughed. “I dinnae offer tyranny, I offer freedom. Ye hae all lost yer minds if ye think that the way forward is tae allow all these foreigners intae our lands. Dae ye really think Pascal deserves tae be Laird? He dinnae grow up here. His Ma ran away with some French merchant. Loyalty is nae in their blood. What happens if the French attack? Pascal will just let his countrymen waltz in. Is that what ye want?”

“That would never happen. Ye dinnae know him. He is a proud Scot. He cares nae for his French heritage.”

Munro curled his lip and shook his head. “I dinnae believe it. We need tae keep Scotland pure.”

“Ye care naething for Scotland. Ye only care about yerself. Ye are as bad as yer Da. All the people were living in fear when ye Da ruled. They were starving, diseased, and there was nae hope in their eyes. They’re thriving under Pascal because he knows what it’s like tae struggle.”

“He knows?” the words rushed out of Munro’s mouth. Munro lunged forward and leaned down. His vicious eyes were reflected in the shining blade. “He dinnae know the meaning of suffering. Da taught me well, but the lessons were hard. He beat my destiny intae me, and I will be damned if I will let someone else take it from me. I dinnae know what Pascal hae done tae convince the Highlands that he is noble, but I will make them all see the truth. I am the rightful heir. The clan belongs tae me, and I will take it all. I will begin with yer life,” Munro angled the sword towards Evan, bringing the point right before his eyes. Evan tilted his head back and stared at Munro with an unwavering gaze, determined not to show fear.

“What kind of man takes a life like this? If ye want tae be respected then ye should at least face me in combat. Maybe then people will respect ye,” Evan said, spitting each word.

Munro’s eyes narrowed. “Ye would like that, would nae ye? But I am nae gaeing tae fall for yer games. I will fight one man and one man only, the man who took everything from me. Ye are naething tae me. Why would I risk my life for ye? I know ye probably thought it would never end this way. I know ye must hae been thinking about the long life ye were gaeing tae live, but ye should know that is never gaeing tae happen now. Ye will die knowing that yer Laird is doomed. There is only one man destined to rule the Highlands, and it’s me,” Munro’s tone was low and his words filled Evan’s heart with dread. He pressed his lips together and swallowed his fear, knowing that this moment may not have been the ideal one in which to strike, but it was the only one he had left. He just hoped that Amelie could forgive him for dying. It was a shame that they were never going to live as they ought to have lived, but at least he got to kiss her again. At least he got to tell her how he truly felt. The only regret he had was that his life hadn’t lasted a little longer.