Page 43 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

As the riders drew alongside her hiding place, she recognized Bairre. But now there was only one other man. She did not have to wait long to find out where the third man was when she heard him speak.

He was laughing, gloating even. “At last, I’ll be rid of that cursed Arran Mackinnon,” he was saying.

She froze. So, Arran was the missing man. But what had they done to him?

“…he’ll be ashes by morning.”

The smell of smoke was already filling the air and tiny fragments of ash were falling all around.

Immediately she ran off.Arran. I have tae find him before it is too late.

As she raced toward the glow of fire ahead of her, her heart was in her mouth. What if they’d killed him and left his body to burn? Her mind was reeling. All she knew was she had to make it through the trees to the old bothy that she could see burning in a clearing some yards ahead.

The place was well alight when she reached it.

“Arran? Arran?!” She screamed his name, hoping against hope he could hear her but there was no answering call.

She pushed the door, burning her fingers. It was already alight, and with her touch it tumbled off its hinges to the floor. “Arran,” she called again. This time she was answered by a faint cry. With her kirtle over her nose and mouth she stumbled into the smoke-filled room, her eyes burning and stinging.

To her horror she saw Arran on the floor surrounded by flames, struggling to untie the rope holding his feet.

Without hesitating she dashed forward.

“Nay, Dahlia,” he gasped. “Get back. Save yerself. Dinnae put yer life in peril fer me.”

She was on her knees beside him in a trice, trying not to breathe, her trembling fingers fumbling with the rough rope tying his ankles. At last, after what seemed an eternity of fruitless struggle with the tightly bound knots, the smoke swirling about them, she was able to release the last of the knots. She leaned in andhelped him stagger to his feet where he stood swaying for several agonized seconds.

“We must make haste,” she cried desperately. At that, he nodded, regaining a modicum of strength. Clutching tight to his arm she guided his stumbling feet past a blazing fallen beam to the doorway and out into the clearer air. She supported him, leaning on her shoulder as he stood gasping and retching, scarcely able to breathe. The flames were leaping high by now and blazing timbers were falling all around them. Dahlia tugged frantically at Arran’s arm. The fire would reach them both if they didn’t move quickly.

He clutched his chest, unable to speak, shaking his head.

“Arran, we must go before the fire consumes us”.

He clutched her arm, heaving in painful breaths, taking a few staggering steps away from the cottage. She slung his arm around her shoulder so he could lean on her and together they made their way into the woods painfully slowly, putting distance between them and the flaming building.

“Stop, lass.” He coughed uncontrollably, fighting to breathe. “Me horse. Is he nearby?”

“I saw naething of yer horse. But the others didnae take him with them.”

He put his fingers to his mouth and, after another bout of coughing, blew a resounding whistle.” Almost at once the black horse appeared beside them. Arran leaned against his neck and rubbed his shoulder. “Good lad. I kent ye’d nae desert me.”

Dahlia helped him to mount and, still struggling to breathe, he sat while she led them back to the place where her little mare was tethered.

Once she had mounted, she looked at him with great concern, a frown creasing her forehead. “We cannae return tae the castle, Arran. Bairre will kill ye. And I fear that he’d succeed at his next attempt.”

“I must find me maither. I believe Bairre will dae her great harm if he believes me dead.”

“Ye must rest first. Before we seek yer maither ye must become well.” She turned her horse back to the road and Arran followed.

“Where are ye taking me lass?”

“Why, tae yer friend the healer. She and the others are only an hour’s ride away and once we’re with them, Bairre and his men will nae find us. The last place they’d look would be the poorest cottages.”

She banged him on the back, causing him to splutter even more. “Ye’re full of smoke, ye must cough it all up so ye can breathe right.”

He dutifully coughed, reaching fer her hand. “Ye saved me life, me love.” He pressed her hand to his lips. “Now, we ride.”

Dawn was striping the sky when they came in sight of the little collection of cottages where people were already going about their business.

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