Blanche seized the lantern and stepped towards the hole. She peered down it, Fiona close beside her.
'We must try,' Fiona said, and Blanche nodded, turned to pick up her cloak, and then began the descent.
The stairs twisted away, and the many cobwebs witnessed to the disused state of them. Though uneven the stairs were firm, and the girls counted fourteen steps before reaching a short passageway that ended in a small, stout wooden door only a few feet away.
'It opens away from the courtyard, I am sure!' Blanche exclaimed excitedly, and they looked at one another with rising hope.
Fiona stepped forward and lifted the latch. She pulled, and with a protesting creak the door swung open. Blanche let out a sigh, and they both peered eagerly through the opening. Here the lantern gave them small illumination, but the moon enabled them to see they had opened a small postern door in the outer wall of the tower, and only a few feet below them was a dry ditch that had once been the moat.
'We had best leave the lantern, for it could betray us,' Fiona said, and she blew out the light. Then, making as little noise as they could, they slid down the steep side to the bottom of the ditch, and scrambled with some difficulty up the much higher outer side. Blanche noticed with relief that the plank bridge they had crossed earlier was not on this side of the castle, but there might still be guards posted.
'Into the trees while we decide what to do,' she whispered, and they ran for the shelter of a grove of trees nearby.
Pausing, they listened anxiously for signs of alarm or pursuit, but all was silent. Recalling her terror of the forest they had passed through earlier that night, Blanche almost laughed to think that now she was welcoming the protection of the dark concealing trees.
'Can we get the horses, do you think?' she asked.
'We will try. They were led away somewhere outside the tower. If not, we must walk.'
'But you are unfit to walk far so soon after your illness,' Blanche protested worriedly. 'We might soon be able to obtain horses from a crofter.'
Fiona remained silent, knowing how very unlikely this was in the wild country where they found themselves, but unwilling to discourage Blanche at the outset.
'We are almost on the river that borders Campbell land,' she began explaining. 'We followed another, smaller river valley that joins it. This area is full of such valleys. I suggest that instead of retracing our steps up the same valley, which is the first way the men will look for us, and which leads us across the hills into the Bishop's valley where no one lives, we go further up the main river and follow another side valley that I know. Once over the hills we ought soon to come to crofts.'
'They might search there too,' Blanche commented. 'Is there anywhere we could hide when day comes?'
'Yes, there are many caves in the sides of the hills. They could not possibly search all of them.'
'Then let us go.'
Carefully they crept through the trees towards the place where the horses had been tethered for the night. The occasional jingle of a bit or snort of a restless horse guided them, but their disappointment was great when they saw the horses had been placed within the walls of what had once been a chapel, but which had lost its roof long ago. At the only doorway they could see two guards and hear their quiet talk. There was no hope of getting mounts for the long and difficult journey that lay ahead of them.
Stealing softly back the way they had come, they suppressed their dismay. Fiona, who knew the lie of the land, led the way in a circuitous route around the tower and down towards the rough track that wound beside the turbulent river. Keeping in the shelter of the trees as much as possible they began to walk steadily southwards, alert for any sounds that would indicate other travellers, their captors or anyone else, and prepared to run for the nearest cover if necessary.
The night was cold, and they pulled their cloaks tightly about them, trying to keep out the chill breezes that blew from the water. Blanche watched Fiona closely for signs of fatigue, but she seemed unaffected by her adventures and the lack of sleep. Her step was sprightly, and she commented frequently upon the beauty of the night, and the occasional movements of birds or night animals that they heard. It could have seemed she had deliberately chosen to explore part of her domain by night with but another girl as sole companion and protector.
After walking for an hour or so they came to the valley Fiona had decided to follow.
'The main path is on the far side of this little river,' she said, pointing across. 'Normally we could ford the river and ride up that side, but there is another, smaller path on this side, and we had best follow that. The men are more likely to search the far side.'
'But they will know we did not cross,' Blanche objected. 'The water is too deep and cold without horses.'
'Then they may think we did not come this way at all, except that there is a small village here, and several small boats moored on this side of the river. It would not have been too difficult for us to have crossed unseen.'
'Should we not try to obtain help, or at least shelter, at one of the cottages? They are Macdonald clansmen, are they not?'
Fiona shook her head decidedly. 'We cannot seek their aid. They would have no reason to believe me, and I doubt if any of them have ever seen me, for they live a solitary life here. Besides, if Alex was responsible for capturing us, these people would obey him, since his own home is not far away, and he is their overlord. And if Duncan is responsible, they know he would take swift revenge on any that thwarted him, and his lands are just across the main river. They have suffered from him in the past and would not help us if they knew he might be involved.'
By now the moon was setting and it was more difficult for them to find their way, but they skirted the cottages, with only a single bark from a dog in an outhouse to indicate they were perceived. The track beside the river was narrow, but smooth and well worn for some way out of the village, passing several tiny walled fields where cattle were penned, then giving way to uncultivated hillside covered with heather and bracken.
After a while the going became much rougher, and they had to walk more slowly to avoid the holes in the path. They were guided mainly by the faint gleams on the river and its gurgling as it ran over the rocky bed. For an hour they stumbled cautiously on, and at last greeted with relief the first threads of light that heralded the dawn.
Now they were able to move faster, and they hurried, knowing that the further they could get before they needed to rest and hide during the day, the safer they would be from their attackers. Looking back along the valley, Blanche gasped at the sight before her. She was looking directly into the sunrise, and its orange glow illuminated the silver river with flames flickering over the surface. The valley was bathed in a soft light and a thin mist veiled the hills to either side.
No humans were in sight, but a few sheep roamed the hillside.
'How lovely it is,' she breathed softly.
'Apart from some of its inhabitants,' Fiona said with a wry laugh.
'Will they be following us yet, I wonder?'
'They will discover our escape at daylight. About now, let us suppose. Even if they come this way at once it would take them an hour or more to catch up with us. We can go on for that long at least. And further up the valley the going is much more difficult for horsemen. If we can reach the higher parts we can see anyone following. In perhaps an hour we ought to stop. We shall then be near a number of caves and we can hide in one of them. We must find one that will give us a view of the valley.'
They went on, more slowly now as the way grew steeper, and Blanche was concerned to see that Fiona's steps were flagging. She walked slowly, with a dragging step, and halted frequently to breathe deeply. At last they came to a wilder place still, where the slopes of the valley were steep, scattered with rocks, and pitted with hollow depressions and deeper caves. Here they must remain, to rest and for fear of pursuit.
They drank their fill of the icy cold water, although the river was little more than a trickle this far up the valley. Hungry after their exertions, they wished that they had food, but there was none to be had, and they retreated to a cave high up from the river, its entrance partly hidden from the path below by thorn bushes, but with a good view down the valley.
'You must sleep if you can,' Blanche said firmly. 'I will watch and wake you if there is any movement.'
'You need sleep also,' Fiona protested. 'Wake me after two hours and I will take my turn at watching.'
Blanche nodded, resolving not to obey, for she was deeply concerned at the dark circles round Fiona's eyes and her pallor.
*
Deciding it was better not to argue, she set about collecting as much heather as she could find nearby, and contriving a bed with it. Fiona subsided onto it with a deep sigh, and despite the discomfort was soon fast asleep. Blanche sat with her back against a boulder, huddled into her cloak, where she could watch the valley but be unseen herself, and began to consider who could have been responsible for their abduction.
How had anyone known where they would be found that day, she wondered.
It had been a sudden decision on Fiona's part to hunt in the Bishop's valley. How could Duncan have known of that and prepared an attack? It was always possible one of Fiona's servants had betrayed her, but would Duncan have taken the risk of starting a conflict between his clan and hers, when she had sent back an answer that could have given him hope that in the end she would accept his suit? Blanche thought it unlikely. The presence of the man Fiona had recognised as Alexander's servant seemed to point to him as the perpetrator of the deed. His departure from the castle could be explained by his need to organise such a plot, and he would not have shown himself amongst the attackers to prevent news of his involvement being taken back to Fiona's people. The more Blanche considered it, the more she became convinced Alexander was responsible, and she fumed helplessly. He had always been determined to marry Fiona, she thought, recalling the many times he had referred to it, despite Fiona's uncompromising rejection of the idea.
Gloomily Blanche watched the valley, but all remained peaceful. She was exhausted by the riding of the previous day, followed by the long walk and the sleepless night, and had great difficulty in keeping awake, but with occasional walks about the cave, taking care to keep out of sight of anyone in the valley, she contrived to stay awake until the sun was high in the sky, and the mouth of the cave, facing eastwards, had just slipped into shadow.
Soon afterwards Fiona stirred, and stretched herself stiffly. She groaned as she sat up, but Blanche thankfully noticed there was more colour in her cheeks.
'You have let me sleep too long!' she exclaimed, noticing the position of the sun as she came to the cave entrance.
'You are still unwell, and need rest,' Blanche replied.
'I have had it, and I am now so stiff I never wish to lie on that bed again! It is your turn, Blanche, for you must be weary!'
'Indeed I am,' Blanche confessed, and after reporting she had seen nothing throughout the morning, she stretched thankfully on the makeshift bed and immediately fell asleep.
It was dusk when Fiona gently shook her awake.
'They will not venture so far up the valley so late in the day,' she explained. 'We can risk moving now, and as we are so near the head of the valley we might be able to reach the one on the far side of the hills before it is too dark to see our way. In a few hours we can go on by moonlight and before tomorrow morning we ought to find a safe house where we can ask for help. It will be welcome, for I am ravenous!' she concluded, and Blanche, her own hunger intense after a foodless day, agreed they ought to set off without delay.
Now the way was much steeper, and the river disappeared entirely. They were climbing towards a shoulder of bare land stretching between two afforested hilltops, and there was only the faintest of tracks to guide them. Deer grazing on the open turf raised their heads in alarm at this unusual invasion, and swiftly bounded back into the sheltering woods. Rabbits, less timid, merely skittered further away and returned to their feeding.
'I wish I could eat grass,' Fiona commented with a faint laugh.
Blanche nodded, and suggested they would soon find help in the valley beyond the shoulder, though thinking dismally it seemed as far away as it had half an hour before, when they had set out.
Eventually they reached the summit, to see stretching away yet another slope similar to the one they had just crossed.
But this time it was downwards, and with rather more buoyancy in their steps they began the descent. Soon it was too dark to go on safely, for there were many rocks covering the hillside. They found shelter amongst a clump of trees and crouched down close together, shivering from the bitter cold while they waited for the moon to rise.
Fiona had dozed, and slumped against Blanche who sat with her arms cradled about her friend. She wondered whether they would be able to go on, but knew they would not survive a night spent motionless in the open, in such cold, and in their weakened, hungry state. Regretfully she wakened Fiona, who struggled up and smiled courageously.
'Not much longer before we reach help,' she said, attempting a cheerful tone.
They walked for what seemed hours, gradually slowing their pace, then forced to take frequent rests. After a time they came to the stream that flowed through this valley, and they followed it, noticing how swiftly it grew wider and deeper. But long before the moon set they had to admit they could walk no further until they had slept again. Fortunately there were more caves here, and they stumbled into one, too tired to collect heather for a bed, and lay utterly exhausted, sleeping until dawn.
'We cannot afford to wait here all day,' Blanche declared, seriously concerned at Fiona's haggard looks. 'If those men were going to search these valleys they would have done so yesterday. We must go on and find food and help as soon as possible.'
Fiona nodded, and wearily they set off again. Soon, to Blanche's joy, they saw a hut in the distance. Their steps quickening, they went towards it, but realised as they came nearer that it had long been deserted.
'It is often the case with these hill farms,' Fiona explained, fighting to keep back her tears of weakness and disappointment. 'So much of the land has been devastated in past years by raids from other clans that the crofters have moved nearer to the villages for greater protection.'
'Let us hope not all the crofters have gone,' Blanche commented grimly. 'Rest here, and I will at least look to see if there is anything we can eat.'
She went on what she feared would be a hopeless mission, for the hut had a long neglected air about it, but in the kitchen she came across a skin bottle, and it was full of rough but palatable whisky. That would give them some strength, at least, she thought, and ran back to Fiona with her find. They drank the fiery spirit, and feeling warmer and much more hopeful went on their way. The valley was much narrower here and often the river ran through steep gorges. Usually they were able to find a way round on the higher ground above, but on more than one occasion they had to wade through the water, which was icy cold but fortunately not deep.
They were in one of these places, wading through with their skirts held high, and their shoes slung round their necks, when Fiona slipped on a sharp stone and fell, gasping as she stretched full length in the icy water. She scrambled up quickly, and Blanche helped her to wade through the stream until they could climb out onto the bank. Fiona was shivering violently, and without ceremony Blanche began stripping off the wet clothes. Then she used her own cloak to rub Fiona briskly until she was dry, and made her sit with her arms round her knees while she spread the cloak over her.
'Oh, I am a fool!' Fiona exclaimed, still shivering.
'Not in the least. You are lightheaded with lack of food, and the whisky did not help that! The sun is warm, thank heavens, and will soon dry your gown, and then we can go on.'
They rested for an hour, and then, despite Fiona's protests Blanche forced her to put on her own dry gown while she donned the still damp one Fiona had been wearing.
'I shall take no harm, but you have been ill. Wear my cloak too, and I will carry yours so that as we walk the sun will dry the gown still more.'
They passed three more farmhouses, all deserted, and none of them yielded up any food or drink, so that all they had was water from the river. At last, outside the third house, Fiona sat down on the grass and put her head in her hands and wept.
'I cannot go on! I must sleep first! Let us stay here until morning.'
Blanche glanced anxiously at the sun. It was high in the sky and only midday.
'Do you think we are within reach of any habitation where there are people?' she asked.
'There is a small village, but it is an hour's walk or more. I cannot make any further effort. Mayhap after a sleep I can try. There should be someone there.'
'Then I will go and fetch help. You can rest here.'
Weakly Fiona agreed. 'Follow the river,' she said, and made no protest when Blanche led her into the house and made a couch for her to lie on from some straw she found.
Desperately anxious by now Blanche went on alone. She knew that if she did not find help soon Fiona would be likely to die of exposure. She prayed feverishly as she struggled along, her own steps faltering in her weakness, and only kept going by her fierce determination not to be beaten by their enemies.
*
So dazed and weary was she that she did not see the rider approaching, and did not hear as he exclaimed in amazement and leapt from his saddle. The first she knew was when an arm was slipped round her to support her and, vaguely aware this was unexpected, she halted.
'My God! You are soaking wet! Where is your cloak?'
She lifted her head, painfully, and perceived Alexander gazing down into her eyes. A nameless fear possessed her, and she began to struggle.
'No, you must not! Go away! I will not tell you where she is!'
Grimly he swung her up onto his horse, and mounted behind her. Her struggles were feeble and he held her with ease, unwinding his plaid so that he could wrap the end round her as well. Then he turned his horse and cantered back down the valley. Blanche dimly realised which direction they were going in and cried out in alarm.
'Fiona! Let me! I must get back to her!'
'When you are safe,' he replied soothingly, and soon halted and dismounted before a small cottage which stood with an open, welcoming door, and a glowing fire within.
Carrying Blanche inside he set her down unceremoniously before the fire, and as ruthlessly as she had previously stripped this same gown from Fiona, he stripped it from her. She was too weak to protest, and thankfully felt the warmth of a sheepskin rug on her skin as he wrapped it round her. Then he led her to a bed set in an alcove and forced her to lie on it. Blanche was just conscious enough to be aware of a woman hovering in the background and of Alexander turning to receive a tankard of warm broth from her. Slipping his arm beneath Blanche's shoulders, he raised her slightly and helped her to sip the broth. She felt its warmth course through her, and her consciousness returned. All her instinctive suspicions of him had disappeared, and her only thoughts were of rescuing Fiona.
'She is in a house, you must hurry!' she gasped, catching at the hand that held the broth, and almost causing him to spill it.
'You may have had sufficient, but that is no cause for wasting it!' he murmured in mocking reproof.
'Fiona!' she exclaimed.
'Hush, I will go for her now. You are in safe hands and will be looked after. Where is she?'
Blanche explained as well as she could, and he nodded and left. The woman whose cottage it was persuaded Blanche to have more broth, and then she fell fast asleep. It was dark when she awoke, and the room was illuminated by a single candle. The woman and her husband sat either side of the fire, she spinning and he carving a spoon from a piece of wood. Seeing Blanche stir, the woman laid aside the spindle and came across to the bed.
'How do you feel now?' she asked.
'Oh, much better, I thank you, but where is he?'
'Lord Alexander? He went to fetch his cousin and rode straight back to the castle with her, saying she needed the physician's attentions at once.'
'Is she very ill?' Blanche asked worriedly.
'No. He said particularly that you were not to be concerned, and he would be back for you as soon as possible. I would think he should arrive within the hour.'
She prepared more broth for Blanche, who was exceedingly hungry, and ate heartily of cold beef and oatcakes. She was worried, her former suspicions of Alexander returning in full force, and fretted in case she had merely delivered Fiona back into the hands of her abductor. There was no more she could do, however, except wait. In the morning, with the help of these people, who seemed loyal to Fiona, she could raise the alarm if it proved to be necessary.
'I have dried your gown, would you like to put it on before he returns?' the woman asked, and Blanche, suddenly recollecting he had stripped it from her, blushed furiously and hastened to comply.
She had barely fastened the last lace when a knock came on the door and Alexander entered.
'Where is Fiona?' Blanche demanded without greeting him.
'Where do you expect?' he replied coolly. 'At home, in Janet's care. Are you recovered sufficiently for the journey?'
'Yes, I thank you,' she answered, subdued.
'Good, then we will ride. Here is another cloak. You appear to have lost yours.'
'It was wet,' Blanche replied absently, trying vainly to recall when she had last seen the cloak.
Alexander came across to her and placed the cloak about her shoulders, fastening it securely.
'You will ride pillion behind me,' he said after she had thanked the cottagers who had cared for her, and was walking to the door.
'Alone?' she asked, startled, and halted in the doorway.
He laughed. 'No. Your suspicious brother sent a couple of men to chaperone us!'
Blanche ignored his mocking tone. 'Then John is back? What has been happening?'
He told her as they rode along that the remnants of the hunting party had struggled back to the castle as dusk was falling. A party of men had set off immediately to search the Bishop's valley, but had had no success in the darkness. On the following day a larger company had ridden through to the other valley, and found traces of the occupation of the ruined tower, but no clues as to where the men had gone. If any of the local crofters had seen them, they were not prepared to talk.
'Your brother arrived in the middle of the day and immediately sent all the available men off in detachments to search. I heard of it late last night and rode straight for the castle to discover the truth of it. No trace of you had been found, so I have been searching the valleys leading towards the river, hoping your abductors would be hiding there, or you had contrived to escape them, and were making for home. What did happen?'
Blanche described their ordeal, and he made few comments, except to say that had he been there he would not have allowed Fiona to have been so foolhardy as to hunt with such a small party, so close to the Campbell lands.
'You have no authority,' Blanche snapped. 'Besides, it is not proved Duncan was responsible.'
'Really?' he drawled. 'Who else do you think would be so impetuous? Or desperate!'
Blanche refused to reply, and he laughed softly.
'Oho! You suspect me, no doubt?'
'Since one of your men was amongst them, it is a reasonable suspicion!' she retorted recklessly.
'One of mine? The one I thrashed for stealing, I suppose. He left as soon as he could walk again. What do you think I had in mind? Murder or marriage?'
Regretting her previous outburst, Blanche firmly closed her lips. He chuckled.
'I have another plan, but as yet I do not intend to reveal what it is,' he said calmly, and then relapsed into silence for the remainder of the journey.
*
The reactions to the outrage on Fiona were varied. The people were furious their beloved chieftain had been so badly treated, and in danger, and vowed vengeance on her attackers. She had recovered speedily from the ordeal, but had to face those of a different nature when her uncles arrived, both scolding her for her lack of care and telling everyone who would listen they had repeatedly warned her of the dangers. She bore their strictures in silence, but refused to discuss with them her suspicions about who was responsible.
Relenting towards Colin when he remarked that her god-daughter, his youngest child Maria, was almost four years old and had not seen Fiona since her babyhood, she promised to pay him a visit two weeks later, and he departed content. Bruce, when he heard of the plan, demanded Fiona also pay him a visit, and she wearily agreed, arranging to go on to him after her visit to Colin. When Alexander discovered these plans he rated Fiona for a simpleton.
'I will do precisely as I choose!' she flared at him. 'Mayhap my uncles are more to be trusted than I have previously thought!'
Aggravatingly, he merely laughed, but she forgot her annoyance when entirely without warning the Black Duncan arrived at the castle.
He was displaying a great deal of injured innocence, complaining at the injustice of the rumours that pinned the abduction on him.
'How could I hope to win you by those means?' he asked. 'You returned so favourable an answer to my embassy that I await your decision with quiet confidence. I came to press my suit less formally, to assure you that in your situation normal considerations need not apply. Your loss, when your betrothed was so unfortunate in suffering that accident, was not the same as the loss of your father. I would advise, for your safety as well as because it is my desire, you marry with as much speed as possible.'
'Patrick's death, whether it was an accident or no, greatly disturbed me,' Fiona prevaricated.
'Oh, yes, you have heard rumours to the effect I was responsible for that too, I see. Utterly ridiculous, of course, though my love for you, my dear, is far greater than is usual in a marriage of convenience, and could well drive me to do unwise deeds. I verily believe I would marry you were you a penniless waif! That being so, I would be very jealous of anyone else who pretended to your hand.'
Fiona shivered, for the menace in those last words was very clear. They were sitting in the great hall, watching some tumblers, and she and Duncan sat slightly apart. She glanced round uneasily and Alexander, interpreting her glance, strolled elegantly across to engage Duncan in conversation so that Fiona could escape.
*