Page 30 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
“But, why? Surely, we can make better time on the roads?”
“Oh, aye, we’d make fine time on the roads, I doubt it nae. But what do ye think the chances are that yer faither, once he kens ye’re missin’, will nae send his finest trackers on our trail?”
Charlotte did not answer.
“Aye,” Edward said. “He’ll have men on our trail, and he’ll have men lookin’ fer us on every road from here to Edinburgh.”
They rode on in silence for a while. Then Edward said, “We’re gettin’ close.”
“Close?” Charlotte asked. She had been staring into the woods thoughtfully. “Close to what?”
“To Scotland,” Edward replied. “To the border.”
Charlotte looked about the woods. As far as she could see––which was not far in any direction, so thick were the trees––everything looked the same.
“How do you know?” she asked, looking about for some sort of marker that might give a clue.
“I can smell it,” the Highlander said. He took a deep breath and sighed it out.
Charlotte took a deep breath too. All she could smell was the wood; Scots pines, sap, dank pine needles crushed under the hooves of Cogar, and rich earth.
“It is a…wholesome smell,” she said, careful not to offend the Scotsman.
Edward nodded.
“Speakin’ of wholesome,” he said, “do ye ken much about cookin’, Miss Bolton?”
* * *
That evening, they set their meager camp in the middle of a cluster of dead Douglas firs. The ancient trees leaned together like a group of drunken old friends, their dead and brittle branches acting as good a screen as the two travelers could hope to find.
Charlotte, at Edward’s gruff request, gathered up some firewood and the Scotsman got a small blaze going.
“All right, Sassenach,” he said, “if ye tend the fire, I’ll go and find us somethin’ to eat.”
Without another word, Edward pulled a bow from where it had been wrapped in waxed cloth and fastened under his saddle skirt, strung it with a sure and practiced hand and began to walk into the gloom of the woods.
“Wait!” Charlotte called. “You are just going to leave me here?”
Edward gave her a surprised look. “Aye, o’ course. What else would ye have me do with ye?”
“Well, I could come with you…” Charlotte said hesitantly.
There was the gleam of teeth in the gloom that was gathering under the firs.
He looks even more impressive in this lonesome place, wrapped in shadows.
“I have seen ye move through a wood, Sassenach,” Edward said. “If ye fancy eatin’ tonight, ye’ll stay and keep the fire burnin’ hot. I shall nae be long.”
Then, in a twinkling––or so it seemed to Charlotte––he had gone.
Charlotte pulled her voluminous cloak around her shoulders and huddled closer to the fire. Judging from what she could see of the sky, there was still an hour or two of daylight out beyond the forest. Here though, in the midst of this silent and secret woodland, it seemed that night was already sniffing amongst the boles of the trees.
Despite the oppressiveness of her surroundings, Charlotte must have dozed off. What felt like a mere few moments later there was the sharp crack of a twig snapping and her eyes shot open.
Edward was crouched by the fire. It was clear that he had just added an armful of fresh wood to it. There were three skinned little animals sitting next to him on the forest floor. As Charlotte watched, he deftly sliced his knife through the back legs of a fourth and dropped it onto the pile.
“See ye have been keepin’ a sharp eye out while I was away huntin’,” he said.
