Page 26 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

Underneath the cloak, Isabelle could feel his hot breath on her cheek, and she covered over her mouth to keep the sound of her breath from reaching the soldiers’ ears. The footsteps kept coming. She could tell they were the footsteps of a sober man, or at least reasonably sober for they were steady and measured. That did nothing to help disguise her hiding place. She had hoped that all the men would be drunk and useless, but apparently, her father had forbidden some of them the drink, so that they could keep watch.

She closed her eyes tightly, hearing the breath of the man who walked by their cloaked form. She hoped that the shape of their bodies looked merely like a section of burned-out wall, jutting out from the side. Time slowed, and the soldier stopped nearby. His footsteps were moving in a slight circle, and she could tell that he was looking around him. Too bad it had to be a good watchman out on duty tonight.

She and Eamon stayed frozen, and her limbs began to ache with their cramped position. But in a few more moments, the footsteps moved on, and their sound began to fade as the man slipped around the other edge of the castle. Slowly, the two of them stood up, and Eamon removed the cloak from around his head. He kept his hands on Isabelle’s arms. She pointed towards the trees where they had left Aine, and he nodded back to her. They clasped hands again and moved quickly and quietly towards the woods.

To her relief, they were soon atop Aine and riding back towards the river. Isabelle’s heart was in her throat, and she clung tightly to Eamon. With each beat of Aine’s hooves, she worried that her father’s men would come upon them in the dark. She and Eamon did not speak the rest of the way back. She knew the men’s fate was laying heavily upon him, and she was racking her mind to think of a solution. Under torture, what could the men reveal? She hoped they would say anything to help spare their lives, but that did not always mean her father would fulfill that end of the deal. Had he not burned a tavern down for no real reason except to exert his own power and importance?

It was a quick ride, and she found herself in Eamon’s embrace again when he pulled her from Aine’s back. She laid a hand on the horse’s soft nose and whispered close to her face. “Thank you, Aine. You have proven yourself to be most capable. I am glad that nothing befell you.”

She looked up to see Eamon watching her. The dawn was soon breaking, a light of yellow on the horizon threatening to soon fill the sky, and she could see his face perfectly. “Ye talk tae horses too then?” He asked, his eyes full of interest.

She smiled. “Yes. I think they can understand in some way. I have a soft spot for the animal world. It is something my father always detested in me.”

Bringing up her father brought to mind the horrible news they had to reveal to the rest of the group, and their brief moment of connection was broken. Isabelle felt disappointed. They had experienced something dangerous tonight, and it united them. She wished she could sit down with him again, alone, and talk everything over. The two of them walked solemnly back towards the center of their camp, where the fire was just a pile of glowing embers.

Isabelle listened, but she couldn’t hear any snores of the men or the steps of any of them on guard. She walked up to a few of their mats and blankets, which had appeared to contain the men, but none were to be found. Her heart began to race. Arya. Where is she? She looked back at a worried Eamon, and she began to dash around the campsite. Where could they be?

Eamon was silent, but his expression was grim, and he looked about him as well. No one was around. It was as if the camp had been totally abandoned, for blankets were still there and a bottle or two. Isabelle felt a growing horror, and she couldn’t breathe. Dear sweet Arya, could she be lost to her forever? Could her father’s men have somehow come and taken her and the rest of the men? They would have no mercy on a woman, of that she was absolutely certain, and she dreaded what would come next.

She looked around, her chest heaving as the breath rattled through her lungs. She tried to think of something, anything that would help her get her dear friend back when a hand clamped over her mouth.

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