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Martin followed Davy and Shona as they walked through the arched gateway of the castle ruins; the thick stone walls emitted a chill. After the tunnel-like entrance, the ruin opened to a long and narrow space, the castle complex having been built on a high spine of sandstone jutting out above the beach below. The tide was in, and the waves crashed in a constant rhythm. The cool salty breeze brushed through Martin’s hair and he pushed his long fringe out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear. Night birds called in the wooded parklands beside the castle ruins.
The area in front of him was mostly green grass and low stone walls, the remains of the castle now a floor-plan of the fortress. Ahead, and out to sea, the original inhabitants would have seen their enemies approaching. But Martin’s enemies would come from the other direction. He turned, in the moonlight a sandstone structure ran along behind them, the remnants of the castle’s round towers and main keep. Doors of wrought iron kept tourists out of rooms still intact with a roof. Back toward the sea, rubble and a half-demolished round tower and wall stood closer to the cliff’s edge, its sandstone glowing a soft yellow in the moonlight.
“We could shelter over there.” Shona pointed to a broken wall at the edge of the sandstone spine, nearest the water, with the beach far below it.
“Aye, but we’d have to jump over the edge if they came.” Martin turned to inspect the entrance once more. “We’ll have to keep an eye out that way.”
“I’ll do that,” Davy offered. “You need to rest now, Martin.”
“Aye, ye look exhausted, Martin.” Shona placed her warm hand on his forearm. It was the only part of his body that didn’t hurt.
“Take the rifle, Davy. In case they come.”
“No, no, no.” Davy waved his hands in front of him, a panicked expression on his face. “I know nothing about guns.”
Martin sighed and walked closer to the wall nearest the sea, drawn by the rhythmic crash-and-receding song of the waves below. The moon was behind him, beginning its descent. His limbs dragged, and a heaviness settled in between the flashes of pain. Sitting on the grass, its softness lured him to rest lying on his side. He placed the rifle at his head. Davy’s footsteps receded to the stone archway entrance.
“We need food.” Shona sat beside him, her body-heat radiating toward him in the cool night.
He shook his head. “We have higher priorities. Like surviving.”
“I’ll no’ go back and be a slave.” She echoed her own words, letting out a short sharp breath as she did. “I cannae believe I’m speaking like this. A slave!’ Tears choked in her voice. “That’s what that guy, Lloyd, said we’d be. What we are.” Shona turned her face to him in the moonlight, her brown eyes were like black dots.
Martin took a deep breath in, the skin on his back burned. He didn’t answer her. What if Lloyd’s men caught them? What if his father couldn’t come up with the money? Would he be a slave until he tried to escape again? He didn’t know. But one thing was for certain, the world was a different place now.
“I’ll no’ let them make me into something I’m not.” Shona’s voice was close to his ear.
Martin blinked as thoughts came spilling back. Things he’d pondered in the dark of the Victorian pantry.
“Even if they catch us, I’ll be free,” he said.
“What?” Shona’s words scrunched as surely as her expression screwed her face. “What are you talking about?”
“Who are you, Shona?”
“What?” Her tone held a tinge of incredulity.
“You’re more than a girl from Wester Hailes,” he said. “I know that now.”
Shona sat up and blinked, but made no comment.
“I labelled you when I first met you. A girl from a rough part of Edinburgh. Just like I’d regard myself as a guy from a nice part of town.” He leaned up on his elbow. “A university student studying physics.” He let out a breathy laugh and shrugged. “I must be smart. A guy from a wealthy family who could have, and do, whatever he wanted.” Martin laid back and flinched. Then sat up again.
“What’re you saying?” Shona’s head tilted as she leaned in.
“The world has changed. Lloyd is so right. Sadly.” He gave a short soft laugh. “Everything I held dear has been taken from me. Uni’s over. I don’t even know where my father is, let alone if he has any money to pay Lloyd for me.” He snorted out a breath. “For all I know, if the current crisis continues, I’ll be a slave for the rest of my life if I can’t escape that man.”
In the half-light, Shona’s brow creased.
“I’ll be a slave if I can’t escape, but I’ll be a free one.” His determination held his voice firm this time.
Shona shook her head slowly. “I really need to understand or I’m gonna think you’re going mad.”
“I’m not, Shona.” Martin reached for her hand. It was calloused from fence building but warm. She gave it, and he held tight to it. “In the core of my being, what is truly me, is more than what I do. Or who my parents are. And so much more than the labels others place on me. Or even the ones I’ve put on myself willingly. I can be free being me, no matter what situation I’m in.”
“You want to get caught?”
“No! I’ll fight tooth and nail for my freedom. But while others think they have power over me, they won’t. I refuse to be defined by the roles others assign to me—like slave.” Voicing his thoughts had a liberating effect. He found his words validated his feelings.
Shona leaned forward; her head shadowed in the waning moonlight. Her lips pressed onto his. Martin hesitated, then pressed back. The emotions fighting in his chest were over-ridden by the sense of her—of Shona. And the warmth her lips, her presence, and their relationship gave him. He smoothed down the inner protest and lifted his hand to her cheek. He held her face to his and played his lips over hers. She continued kissing him, her breath warming his face.
She broke away, the moonlight revealing her smile. Then she rubbed her lips together and ran her tongue along them as though she was tasting him.
Man, they didn’t have time for any of that, but she was the best thing about this surreal situation he’d found himself in. She was the noblest cause—a reason to fight.
But the night was slipping away, and they needed to get to help.
“What!” Davy’s voice sounded strangled in the pale pre-dawn light. “No.... Martin!”