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Amelie and Stephen managed to find where Munro and his men were holding Evan. They didn’t seem concerned about covering their tracks, and Munro’s voice boomed in the silence of the night. He was so arrogant that he thought he could perform his crimes openly and nobody would challenge him, all because he saw himself as the rightful Laird. Amelie gasped when they came upon the thicket and saw Munro standing in front of Evan, holding Evan’s sword right in front of Evan’s face. Just one thrust and it would be over. One sweep of Munro’s arms and Evan’s head would roll off, and there would be no coming back. It somehow didn’t seem real. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and Amelie couldn’t help but think it was all her fault. If she had just stayed in the nunnery, if she had just recognized Munro, if she had just stayed loyal to Evan…

She pressed her lips together, clamping them shut, and summoned all the courage she could muster. There would be time for recrimination and blame later, once the dust had settled. For now, Evan was still alive, and she planned for him to remain that way. As long as his heart still beat there was hope.

A strange sense of serenity passed over her. Fear had long been one of Amelie’s defining characteristics, as well as a companion. It had taken root in her heart a long time ago and had festered there, growing like a sharp, tangled weed, choking her voice into silence. She had never been free of it, only had learned to manage it and calm it, to ignore it while it went about its grisly business. However, as soon as Evan had been taken away that fear had been dispelled. She had wrenched it from her soul and broken away all the brittle parts of it that had hardened over the years. By reclaiming her voice she had also reclaimed her strength, and she felt renewed.

The love she felt had been stronger than fear. The warmth burned the cold fear away. Heat flickered through her blood and caused a fire to blaze within her. She felt tied to Evan, and she knew that if he died then the best part of her would die as well. Suddenly, she had nothing to be afraid of. What was the good of living if she could not be with him? What was the point of having a heart if it was no longer capable of love? She had nothing more to lose, because without Evan there was nothing. Either she was with him, or she was dead. Her body and mind may persist in his absence, but she would be nothing more than an empty shell, a living ghost, for her heart and soul would be taken into the afterlife with him. She had pledged them to him and she was not about to take them back. If Munro beheaded Evan, he might as well have beheaded Amelie as well.

But this freed her heart from the things that had trapped it before. No longer did she feel restrained. No longer did she feel helpless. She had nothing to lose, which meant that anything was possible. She had been baptized in the fire of love, and now she was an avenging angel.

“Sneak around tae Evan. When ye get a chance, help him get untied. I will distract the others,” Amelie said, her eyes blazing with intent. The words were becoming smoother as she became more used to speaking. The dormant muscles were flaring into life again and rediscovering forgotten strength. Before Stephen could argue against the plan and tell her that Evan would not want Amelie to put herself in danger, Amelie was already rising to her full height and walking past the bush behind which they had been hiding. She clenched her hands into fists as she walked towards them, each footstep heavy with intent and like Munro before her, she made no attempt to hide her tracks.

The men had their backs to her. Amelie still possessed light footsteps and her stature remained small. It was not as though some armored warrior was stomping through the forest, calling out for a duel. She crept up behind them. Perhaps in another life, she could have been an assassin, for she certainly had the skills to excel at the task.

But she was not there to kill, she was there to distract.

“Munro,” she said, the word coming loud and clear through the silent night. The men turned toward her. Evan seemed surprised to see her as well. Munro angled his head and then a grisly smile stretched across his face. His body turned with his head, and the sword was now pointed at her.

“Amelie, ye are more resourceful than I imagined. It seems as though I’m gaeing tae hae tae discipline one of my guards,” he said, relishing the prospect of unleashing punishment upon the man who had left Amelie alone. She did not dwell on the thought that by escaping, she had condemned the guard to feel Munro’s wrath. “Perhaps it is only fitting that ye should be here tae witness this. I think time in the nunnery might hae hidden the true nature of the world from ye. Ye should be reminded about how things work,” he said.

“I dinnae need reminding of anything,” Amelie’s voice was still shaky, but she persevered. “I hae seen enough suffering. I am nae blind tae anything.”

Munro arched an eyebrow, clearly surprised at the way she was speaking. “And it seems as though ye are nae mute either. Ye hae found yer voice, or hae it always been in there all along? Maybe it just took a real man tae find it,” he chuckled as he spoke, clearly thinking that he was responsible. Amelie’s skin crawled, wondering how she could have ever considered the possibility of running away with that man.

“Ye are nae real man. Ye are a pretender and a coward.”

Munro flinched at the words. A low growl emanated from his throat and he glared at her. Long strides closed the distance between him and Amelie. She swallowed her fear and rooted her feet to the ground, intending to become as immovable as an oak tree. At least he was away from Evan, he thought. And the eyes of the other men were upon her.

“A coward?” he hissed. “Ye would dare insult me?”

“Ye forget that I know ye better than ye might think,” Amelie said, speaking for his men’s benefit. “I know ye told me many lies, but ye also told me the truth as well, the truth about how ye cried when ye Da beat ye, how ye hae been sae afraid of disappointing him, and how ye are only daeing this tae make him proud. Ye dinnae hae tae make a ghost proud, Munro. Ye could hae escaped. Ye could hae gone anywhere ye wanted. Pascal would nae hae chased ye.”

Munro trembled with anger, and his body bristled with tension. The men beside him murmured under their breath, perhaps now realizing that Munro was not the man they thought he was. Amelie swallowed deeply. It took a great effort to talk as much as this, but she was determined to force the words out no matter what, for Evan.

“This is the only place for me! This is the only place that matters!” Munro flailed the sword through the air and took another step closer to her. He lowered his voice. Warm breath drifted towards her as he loomed over her. “I will hae my revenge. I will take my place in that castle back and I will make sure that my name is etched in history. Yer brother dinnae belong there. I am the true Laird,” he spoke as though having that title was the only thing that was going to bring meaning and purpose to his life. There was no happiness found within his soul, and Amelie knew that even if Munro got what he wanted it still wouldn’t bring him happiness, not that she would have been able to convince him of that.

“Munro,” her voice was a gentle breeze against his raging storm. “I know ye lied tae me, but we shared many things taegether. We know each other. Ye dinnae hae tae kill this man. Let him gae, and I will stay with ye. I will be yer hostage and I will help ye find some agreement with Pascal. Naebody hae tae suffer. Naebody hae tae die. Just let him gae.” Amelie looked beyond Amelie and saw Stephen moving in the shadows, helping to free Evan. It would soon be over now.

“Nae!” Evan cried out. “I will nae let ye give yerself up like this, Amelie.”

Munro turned to face him. Amelie looked down and saw a dagger at Munro’s belt. Filled with courage, she reached out by her instinct and pulled the dagger away. Munro turned back in shock.

* * *

Evan had been certain that his life was coming to an end before Amelie had appeared from nowhere. He was proud that she had found the resourcefulness to escape, but what was she doing here? She should have stolen a horse and returned to the nunnery, or to Pascal. She should have gotten to safety. He strained his ears, hoping to hear the thunder of salvation as Pascal’s army came to the village, but it was probably too soon for that. They were alone, and now Amelie was condemning herself. Evan had thought that the worst thing was to die, but now he realized it would be to see Amelie killed before his eyes. At least if he died he could have comforted himself by knowing that she was going to live on and would perhaps find happiness without him. As Munro moved towards her menacingly Evan’s heart caught in his throat. Munro might kill her with Evan’s sword. If he did, Evan would throw his life away to avenge Amelie.

But before he could move, he noticed someone skulking towards him. It wasn’t any of Munro’s men, for they had all turned to face Amelie.

“Almost there, Cap’n,” Stephen whispered, his voice low enough that none of the others could hear. They were all too busy with Amelie.

“What are ye daeing here? Ye were supposed tae get help.”

“I could nae let ye suffer alone. I hae tae come back for ye,” Stephen said. Evan could rebuke Stephen for not following orders later. Right now, he was quite pleased that Stephen had shown this rebellious streak. Stephen drew a dagger through the loose bindings, making it even easier for Evan to escape. Once his hands were free, Evan told Stephen to return to the shadows and stay out of sight. At that point, his attention was drawn back to Amelie, for she declared that she was willing to stay with Munro as long as Evan was freed.

“Nae!” Evan cried out. Munro and the others turned to face him. Stephen had already disappeared. Evan kept his hands clasped behind his back, maintaining the illusion that he was still a captive. He could not let Amelie give herself over as a hostage like this. He would not. “I will nae let ye give yerself up like this, Amelie,” he called out. Munro turned to face him, but then turned back in shock. Amelie staggered back and held a dagger to her throat. Evan’s mouth dropped open.

“Amelie…” he gasped.