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Duncan coughed to clear his lungs, as he crawled out of the water and onto the river bank, his breath coming in great gulps. When he'd realized he was about to fall, he'd thrown himself away from the cliff, praying he'd not hit the rocks. Instead, he had hit the water hard and sank to the river's depths. He had to struggle to get back to the top, and had he not been a strong swimmer, he would not have survived.
After catching his breath, he got to his feet and walked along the base of the cliff, searching for the way up. If he didn't find it before nightfall, he'd have to wait until the morrow, which would put even more distance between himself and Kila.
He found his broadsword wedged between two stones, but still intact, and his targe nearby. He'd be in much need of them, once he caught up to Monro's guards. He had to find Tearlach, and prayed the horse had heard the whistle that signaled him to run. If the guards had seized the stallion beforehand, Duncan would have a hell of a time finding Kila on foot.
Gloaming wasn't far off when he finally located the overgrown path. He took his time climbing, for he didn't wish to end up back in the river—or worse. By the time he reached the top, the full moon had begun it ascent.
Duncan walked away from the gorge, listening. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, he let out a loud whistle, calling Tearlach. He began walking in the direction he knew they'd take Kila, stopping, ever so often, to whistle and listen. If he didn't find Tearlach, he'd be forced to borrow—or steal—a horse, or else he'd never catch up to her before they reached Whitestag.
With the moon lighting his way, Duncan walked for several hours, with no sign of the horse. Along the ridge to his left, a lone wolf howled, and was quickly answered by several others. The animals were still some distance away, but it'd not take long for them to pick his scent up on the wind. He tightly gripped the hilt of his broadsword, and quickened his pace.
Sometime later, while kneeling beside a small loch to quench his thirst, a noise to his right brought him to his feet. Had the wolves been tracking him?
He drew his weapon and waited.
***
KILA SHOVED THE GUARD's hand from her thigh a third time. "I told you to keep your filthy hands off of me," she spat.
The head of Monro's guards, Dubh, she'd heard him called, chuckled. "I'm certain ye didnae say that to MacDonell, did ye, lass?"
Tears sprang into her eyes at the mention of Duncan. She prayed he still lived and had been the reason Tearlach had suddenly disappeared. She held on to that hope, as they rode farther away from him and ever closer to Whitestag.
Dubh slipped his hand beneath her cloak and tried to grab her breast.
She gasped, and knocked his arm away. "I wish to ride with someone else."
"Nay, lass, you'll be riding we me and no one else," he whispered against her hair. "I like having ye between my thighs, but I'd much rather be between yers."
She grimaced at the thought. "I'll be certain to tell your laird you said as much, once we reach Whitestag."
He grabbed the side of her neck, digging his fingers in her flesh until she thought she might faint from the pain. "Ye'll do no such thing, ye wee whore, or else he'll find ye dead." He let go. "Why would he believe ye? Ye're a liar, and he kens it."
"I told the truth, if 'tis any of your concern," she said, rubbing her aching neck.
He snorted. "If ye'd spent the night with me, ye'd have been well bedded. Of that ye can be certain," he said, keeping his voice low.
"Thank the saints, I didnae." Dubh didn't reply, and Kila hoped he'd leave her be. She had to think of a way to escape and find Duncan. He could be lying on that cliff, badly injured and in need of her help. She looked up at the full moon. Since leaving the gorge, they'd only stopped briefly to rest the horse and to allow the animals and themselves to quench their thirst. As long as they kept traveling, there was no way she could escape.
The guard, who had spoken kindly to her earlier, drew his mount up beside them. "I ken this place. There's a clearing just up ahead—near a small loch. 'Twould be a good place to camp for the night."
"I'm the one to decide whether 'tis or 'tisnae, in case ye've forgotten," Dubh ranted. "Ye'll do well to remember that."
"Aye, Dubh," the young man said, before dropping back with the others.
"Insolent whelp," he growled.
Kila breathed a sigh of relief, when he decided to make camp in the clearing. Once a fire was built, she found a seat nearby to warm herself.
The young guard handed her an oatcake.
"Much thanks." She ate every bite, and he gave her another, which she ate just as quickly. "I'm most gracious for your generosity. I was quite hungry."
"Ye're welcome, m'lady," he said, adding more wood to the fire.
"What is your name?"
"Willie Monro," he said, then lay down several feet away, wrapped himself in his plaid, and was soon snoring softly.
The rest of the guards, except for Dubh and the one on watch, found their beds.
Before she found her own, she had to relieve herself. She rose to her feet and headed toward the thick underbrush, with the fire lighting her way.
Dubh stepped in front of her. "Where do ye think yer going?"
"To relieve myself, if you must ken," she snapped.
"I'll be waiting right here, and if ye're no back soon, I'll be coming after ye."
Once she was finished, she quickly returned, for she didn't wish to find herself alone with him. She'd already seen the sort of man he was. She drew her cloak tightly around her and pulled up her hood, before choosing a place to rest near the fire. Though exhausted, Kila forced herself to stay awake. Once the others were asleep, she'd slip past the guard and head back to the gorge.
Kila opened her eyes to see Dubh's lustful gaze on her, and a shiver crawled up her spine. She didn't relish another day of riding with him, for he had grown much bolder with his touch and words as they rode. She had to discover a way to escape, for Duncan's sake—as well as her own.
***
DUNCAN READIED HIS broadsword and waited.
Twigs and leaves snapped and rustled as the underbrush was shoved aside, and out walked Tearlach.
He sighed with relief, sheathed his weapon, and threw his arms around the stallion's neck. "You dinnae ken how glad I am to see you, lad." For the first time since falling over the cliff, he had hope of finding Kila before she reached Whitestag.
The horse whinnied.
"Hungry are you?" He took the pouch of oats from his pack, which he shared with Tearlach.
A wolf howled, then another, causing the hair to stand up on the back of Duncan's neck. They were close, less than half a mile away and more than likely tracking the horse. He shoved the remainder of the oats back into his pack, then mounted. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and the wolves.
Duncan glanced up at the sky. It would be dawn soon, and he could cover more ground in the daylight—but so could Monro's men. He prayed Kila was well, and that her being betrothed to their laird would keep her safe.
After a time, the path he was on split into two. He dismounted and led Tearlach, keeping his gaze on the ground, and soon came across the tracks of several horses. Studying the prints in the soft earth, he found what he'd been searching for. One horse sank deeper into the damp earth than the others, telling him it had been carrying double. At least now he knew which path he should take, and turned right.
Several hours passed, and frustration set in, when he rode into the clearing. He dismounted and picked up a coal from the fire. Cold. He threw it on the ground. While he'd been on foot, Monro's guards had managed to get a good distance ahead. He'd never catch up, if he continued to follow them. What he needed was a way of cutting them off, and if he crossed the mountain, instead of following the path, he could, but was uncertain as to what to expect, since he'd never done so.
Duncan blew out a long breath. No matter. He had to find Kila—one way or another.
***
AFTER THEY BROKE CAMP the following morning, Kila had practically begged Dubh to allow her to ride with someone else, but he had adamantly refused her request—and she knew why. As soon as she shoved one hand away, the other was groping at another part of her body, treating her as if she were naught but a common whore. Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. She wasn't about to allow the bastard to see her cry.
Willie rode up beside them. "Dubh, ye'd do well to remember the lady is soon to be the wife of our laird. What would Laird Monro say if he knew how ye were treating the lass?"
"Ye'd best keep that trap of yer's shut, if ye ken what's good fer ye," Dubh roared, causing the other men to take notice.
"Then allow her to ride with me."
He cursed beneath his breath. "Take her, then, and be quick about it."
Willie dismounted and helped Kila down, then lifted her onto his own horse. He swung up behind her and fell back several feet behind Dubh. "I assure ye, m'lady, all the Monros are no' like Dubh." He seemed a good man, who was but following the orders of his laird.
She smiled. "I'm most glad to hear so." The night before, she'd been unable to slip away, as Dubh has ended up bedding down only a foot or so away. But tonight, she had no choice. She had to escape and find Duncan. Kila prayed he still lived, and if he was dead—she had to know that as well. Tears filled her eyes at such a horrifying thought.
As the men set up camp for a second night since taking her, Kila realized Willie had been true to his word. He was naught like Dubh. Not once had he touched her inappropriately, but she had felt Dubh's lustful eyes on her often, and it had made her ill at ease.
While Willie got a fire going, another guard left, returning with two large hares, which were soon roasting over the fire.
As Kila ate the portion Willie brought her, she thought of the hare she and Duncan had eaten inside the cave, and her throat tightened. She missed his smile, his touch, his contagious laughter, the twinkle in his brown eyes. If she allowed herself, she would cry until she could cry no more, but she had to keep her wits about her—if she wished to escape Monro's guards.
***
ONCE HE REACHED THE mountain top, Duncan dismounted and left Tearlach to graze, while he scanned the countryside for any sign of Monro's men. The long shadows of gloaming lengthened by the minute, and he prayed he'd find Kila before nightfall. He didn't relish spending another night not knowing where she was—or whether or not she was safe.
A whiff of smoke reached his nose, and he searched for its source. There were no houses or crofter's huts about, both places where there was sure to be a fire. Duncan mounted, then slowly made his way down the mountainside, all the while keeping to the tree line. The scent of smoke grew stronger, and in the growing darkness, he thought he saw the twinkle of firelight.
He dismounted, left Tearlach hidden in the thick underbrush, and made his way toward the stones, above which he could now clearly see the smoke rising. Several small pebbles bounced around him, and he flattened himself beneath a small overhang, then carefully peered out. A guard, with a bow slung over his shoulder, stood watch directly above him, but thankfully, the man's back had been turned toward him. Duncan cursed beneath his breath. Until the guard moved elsewhere, he had no choice but to wait, for he didn't want the guard alerting the others to his presence before he found Kila.
With his broadsword in his hand, he waited, while night settled around him.
***
KILA PULLED HER CLOAK tightly around her and lay down near the fire, where she could see the guard on duty. After a few minutes she pretended sleep. Earlier, while sitting beside the fire, she'd studied the guard on watch. He rarely moved from his spot on the stones, but there were times when he looked elsewhere for long periods. That would be her signal to slip away.
The rest of Monro's men had found their beds long ago. Even Dubh had found a place beneath a pine tree and bedded down, thankfully, a good distance away from Kila. Earlier, the sky had been dotted with clouds, but now the full moon sat in a cloudless sky, as she had hoped it would, to light her way. Perhaps she would run into Tearlach before she reached the gorge, which would certainly make getting back there much quicker.
The guard on watch looked over his shoulder at the camp, before turning around and walking away.
With her heart pounding against her ribs, Kila quietly crawled to her feet and slipped into the wood, praying she'd not step on a twig and give herself away.
A branch snapped behind her, then another. Was someone following her? She picked up her pace. An arm suddenly snaked around her waist, and yanked her backwards.
Dubh chuckled. "Thought ye'd get away from me, did ye, lass?" he whispered against her ear.
Fear tightened her throat, and she could hardly breathe. In silence, she clawed at his hands, for if she screamed, the other guards would be there in seconds. "Turn me loose, or else I'll scream," she threatened. She didn't want to, but would, to keep Dubh from raping her.
"If ye do, I'll tell them I kept ye from getting away."
She drove her heel hard into his shins, eliciting a grunt.
He shoved Kila up against a tree, and tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away. "I've wanted ye since I first saw ye at Whitestag, and by the saints, I'll 'ave ye this night." He pressed his forearm against her throat to keep her still, while his hand snaked up her skirts.
"Nay, please dinnae," Kila pleaded, as he ran his hand up her bare thigh. She opened her mouth to scream.
"What the hell are ye doing, Dubh? Let the lady be."
He didn't turn around. "Keep out of this, Willie."
"If ye think I'm going to stand by and allow you to rape her, ye're daft. Now turn her loose."
Dubh swung around and struck Willie hard. He dropped to the ground like a sack of oats and lay still.
Kila took off running, using the moonlight filtering through the trees as her guide. Twigs and branches snapped behind her, and she realized she'd never be able to outrun Dubh. Trembling, she dropped to the ground, and crawled into the thick underbrush, ignoring the briars tearing at her skin and hair. She lay still and prayed he wouldn't find her.
***
AS SOON AS THE GUARD on watch could no longer see him, Duncan left the overhang and made his way toward the camp, but a commotion in the wood to his right caught his attention. He followed the noise, and came across a Monro guard out cold. What the devil was going on?
"Leave me be!"
Kila! With his heart drumming against his ribs, he raced toward the sound of her voice. He had to stop and listen more than once to make certain he was going in the right direction. When he did find her, she was fiercely fighting with a man who had her on the ground beneath him. Duncan's blood turned to ice. "Get off of her," he ordered, wanting naught more than to slice open the bastard's throat.
The man froze.
Kila crawled from under him, and raced to Duncan's side. "You dinnae ken how many times I've prayed you survived," she wept, hardly able to speak.
With his gaze on the man, he kissed the top of her head. "Did he harm you in any way?"
"Nay, only tried."
Duncan shoved her behind him. "Get to your feet and turn around slowly," he ordered, through clenched teeth.
When the man finally faced Duncan, he recognized him as being the guard he had been fighting when he fell into the gorge.
The guard grinned, his teeth a stark white in the moonlight. "Well, MacDonell, it appears I'll have to kill ye again." He drew his broadsword and came at Duncan.
Duncan blocked the strike with his targe, and jumped back. "Get out of the way, Kila."
With her insides shaking, she stepped behind a tree and peered out. Duncan was alive! And she prayed he'd keep away from Dubh's blade, for she couldn't bear to lose him again.
Dubh sprang at Duncan, swinging his blade as he did, and thankfully, missed.
Duncan circled him. "Do you make it a habit of raping women? Even those who are betrothed to your laird?"
"Shut up, ye filthy cur," he spat, rushing Duncan.
The clang of steel on steel echoed through the wood, and Kila knew it was just a matter of time before the other guards found them. They needed to be gone from there, but she was afraid of distracting Duncan if she said as much.
Duncan spun around, swinging his blade, drawing it across Dubh's throat.
Dubh dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, before slumping to the ground and lying still.
Kila threw herself into Duncan's open arms.
"I'd like naught better to kiss you long and hard, lass, but I fear we need to put some distance between us and Monro's men, especially since I just killed one of them." He took her hand and quickly led her back the way he'd come. The guard on duty was nowhere to be seen, as they slipped past the overhang and headed up the side of the mountain.
"Dubh lies dead and Willie's been knocked out," a guard shouted to the others. "We've got to get the bastard what did it and find the lady. Laird Monro will be angry if we return without her," he warned.
Kila glanced over at Duncan. When she'd first heard his voice in the wood, she thought she imagined it. She still couldn't believe he was alive. He didn't appear to have been injured from his fall, but Kila wanted to know for certain. "Were you harmed by your plunge into the gorge?"
"I actually went into the river, and thought for a moment I was going to drown, but I managed to fight my way back to the top."
Tears blurred her vision. She'd come close to losing him forever. "When I saw you go over the edge, my heart shattered," she sobbed.
He stopped and faced her. "Kila, 'tis over, and we both are well."
She nodded. The knot in her throat kept her from speaking.
He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his, dissolving her fears, if only for a few moments.
Dawn was nigh upon the land, and Kila's knees were trembling, when they finally reached the mountain's summit.
Duncan led her to a moss covered log. "Rest yourself, lass. I'll be back soon." When he returned, he was leading Tearlach, who gently nuzzled her cheek.
She patted his velvety nose. "How were you able to find him?"
He chuckled. "I didnae. He found me, didnae you lad?"
"I havenae thanked you for rescuing me—again. Much thanks, Duncan."
He grinned. "You're welcome, lass. It appears to have become my mission in life, but remember, you did rescue me, as well."
"Aye, but you were locked in that dungeon because of me. You may one day regret asking me to marry you."
He tightened his hold on her and kissed her cheek. "Never," he said, and kissed her thoroughly, before lifting his head. "Come, lass, 'tis time to go. I dinnae want Monro's guards catching up to us again."
She rose to her feet, and he lifted her onto the horse, then swung up behind her, before heading down the other side.
Once they reached the base of the mountain, Duncan turned Tearlach back the same way they'd come two days earlier.
Kila frowned. "Are you certain we're going in the right direction, Duncan?"
He chuckled. "Aye. I've traveled to Blackstone Castle many times. This isnae the route I usually take, for the other way is much quicker, but 'tis also the direction in which Monro's men will certainly go." He turned into the wood, where the early morning light filtered through the thick branches of the trees, and suddenly a visible path lay ahead of them.
Kila had eaten only a few bites of the hare at supper the night before, and her stomach growled its resentment at having been forsaken.
A few minutes later, Duncan brought Tearlach to a halt beside a raspberry bush, and lifted her down. "Perhaps a few of these will take the edge off your hunger, but we'll have to make it quick."
She smiled, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "Much thanks."
They hurriedly picked and ate several of the juicy berries, then headed toward his horse, tethered a few feet away. The sound of branches breaking brought them to a halt.
Kila felt ill, and her knees, weak. How had the guards found them so quickly?