Page 28 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

She saw Arya enter in from behind the branches, and Isabelle lunged forward to grab her hand. Sean stood up, struggling as if a heavy weight was upon his chest. “It is a possibility, lass. But, I think they only need one man for that task.” Isabelle’s heart sank, and she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She drew back, embarrassed for her attempt at hopefulness. Sean was right. Her father would be just as ruthless as that, and might even slaughter the next man in front of their eyes when they met him in battle.

* * *

Lukas was grim. “What do we do, Eamon? What plan is next for us? Surely the man will do anything to save his own life. Under torture, he may have revealed our location. Should we nae leave as soon as possible?”

Sean was looking down, and Eamon felt for his brother. He had a whole new life now, and this new group he had become a part of was not really his to lead. I think his heart hurts for his men, but he also feels he has let down his wife. Eamon moved forward to touch Sean, and Sean recoiled a little. Eamon’s heart fell. There was nothing he could do now. Sean certainly blamed him for what happened to his men. It had been Eamon who had sent them forward.

Sean said, his eyes flashing with fire, “We have lost my men. They would most definitely now have told them of our whereabouts. We must return back tae the village and remove The Scots tae a new, safe place before Cutler gets there or finds us first.”

“Aye, brother. I am in agreement.”

Isabelle stepped forward again, and Eamon watched her, afraid of what she might say next. She was intelligent, but she did not know that this was not the time for ideas from those who were connected to the enemy. He moved towards her, hoping to stop her from her next words. But she plunged forward. “Is there no other way we could send word to your family, sir? To send us all to the village would be foolhardy. Even with our group plus The Scots number, you could never defeat him.”

The words echoed harshly into the silence of the forest. Eamon grabbed onto Isabelle’s arm. “Another time, lass. We will think of it. Shall we ride, brother?” He tried to speak softly and calmly. He knew that Sean’s mind would be elsewhere as he worried for the safety of his wife. But Isabelle’s expression turned stony.

Sean nodded. “We must pack up now. We ride towards my village.”

“We have tae stop along the way. The journey is too far. We can stop at the tavern where ye found us,” Lukas replied.

“Brother, we will nae go after yer men?”

Sean shook his head. “If it is as ye say, they could have been killed already, but even if they were nae, we have nae the numbers tae go against Cutler. We have nae gained forces from Drumnadrochit. Even Gareth and Donovan would understand that the priority is tae save those at the village.”

Eamon turned away. He said nothing to argue against his brother. He and the men, with Isabelle following behind, wandered into the campsite to clean up their packs and get the horses. It was silent work, and they were soon on their way back towards where they had come from.

Eamon was afraid this was unwise. He thought that Isabelle’s idea had merit. But his brother in this state was not to be argued with. He was the leader, and it was his men whose lives were at stake. Eamon reminded himself that he had only come to be an assistant.

He could feel Isabelle’s anger in the way she clung to his back. There was nothing he could do about it until they stopped again. A light rain had begun to fall as they rode back towards the village, and it added to the heavy tension in the air. Gareth and Donovan could now be dead, and they rode off away from them. Was that wrong? It was for the greater purpose, but could they have at least tried to fight through the soldiers’ fort? He knew they would have been slaughtered, but it still felt wrong with each mile they moved forward.

He let his mind go blank as the day passed, and he and his men clung to the reins, riding as hard as their charges would allow. Soon, he felt Isabelle’s arms loosen a little, and he could feel the shape of her head lolling against his back. He smiled. So the tigress sleeps from wild adventuress to fiery fighter to sleeping lamb. He himself was feeling the fatigue begin to weaken his eyelids, and he hoped and prayed for the tavern to soon make its appearance, or else he would slip down from Aine’s back and onto the cold, wet ground.

That thought jolted him awake, and he narrowed his eyes into the mist, trying to focus, searching for the outline of the old tavern. In the matter of an hour, it appeared, and a more welcome sight Eamon had yet to behold. “Oy!” he cried, and the men followed his lead as he wandered towards the stable. The mist had grown thick and heavy in the darkening light.

“We have come at the right time, men, for the mist was making it hard tae see. We near that ominous dark forest.”

Sean nodded grimly. “We stay a night, and then we are gone at first light.”

“Aye.” Eamon allowed Dirk and Harold to handle the horses with the inn’s stable boy, and he, along with the women, entered in through the door. Two fires roared at opposite hearths, and Eamon realized just how hungry he was. He had not slept the night before, nor had he eaten since the evening previous. His stomach had now become an aching hole, and their prospects were growing bleak in his mind. The mist had not helped to quell his unease.

The group of travelers clumped at a table in the corner, and the two women, looking wet and slightly bedraggled, wrapped their woolen tartans about them and kept their voices low and quiet. Eamon looked at Isabelle, but he could tell she was avoiding his gaze. He did not have the energy to speak to her about it right then, but it bothered him that she was angry with him. He was only trying to make the situation easier.

The men drank and ate heartily, and in a little while, the mood seemed a little lighter. Lukas said, “I much prefer tae stay in taverns than out in the woods. And this one has some of the most comfortable beds.” Lukas laughed as he eyed a few of the maids wandering about the room, serving drinks.

Eamon grinned and drank the rest of his ale. Finally, he felt as if there was some hope. Sean still looked miserable, but with his men nearby, always ready for a laugh, it would make the evening much merrier. Suddenly, Isabelle stood up, and Arya did the same. She looked at them all with her violet eyes flashing, and said, “We are for bed, gentlemen. If you will excuse us. I assume the innkeeper will be able to show us our room?”

Sean nodded. “Aye, lasses.”

Eamon stood. “I shall come with ye tae make sure ye find all well.”

Isabelle shot him an angry glance. “No need, sir. You may remain here with the rest of your men.” She turned away with a huff, and Eamon returned to his seat with Lukas and the others grinning at him.

“I see ye have angered that fiery lass, my friend. What could ye have done, I wonder?” At Lukas’ musing, the other men burst into laughter. Soon after, Sean left for bed as well, and it was just Eamon and his own men. It almost felt like they were caught in the past. But once his last pint was finished, he stood to leave as well.

“I am off, men. I shall see ye come morn.”

They ordered another round of drinks and waved him off merrily. “There is enough on the morrow that brings us unhappiness, lad. We shall drink ourselves into merriment this evening.”

Eamon smiled. Usually, he would agree with them, but tonight he was too tired and too overwhelmed to fully enjoy the evening. He stumbled up the stairs to find his own room. It was lucky enough the inn had space for him to be alone. He opened the door and saw a fire in the hearth. He sighed with delight and moved toward it to sit at the chair that stood before it.

But when he went to sit down, he jumped back in surprise to find Isabelle sitting there already, her arms crossed.

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