Page 40 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

For the first time, Eamon laughed a little, feeling a bit lighter with the aid of his friends so near at hand. “If we can find it, that is.”

Lukas tapped his finger to his lips. “Like ye said, we are Highlanders. The woods and rocks are our hiding places. We find a way tae come upon the men unawares. We attack them without them knowing. Once we reduce the number, we can rush in and fight with swords, just as we planned. It could all go as ye thought.”

Eamon thought it over. “Aye, it could be so. But ye would be willing tae risk it?”

Lukas slapped his friend’s back. “Aye for ye, lad? We would do it, just so that ye wouldnae look as ye do now anymore. We couldnae bear it. What say ye?”

Eamon looked around at each of the men. “I fear they will execute Sean at first light. I have dreamed of it. Will ye be prepared tae leave soon?”

“Aye. We were just waiting for ye. What do ye propose we do with the girl while we go tae fight?”

Eamon looked in Arya’s direction. He wasn’t sure what caused him to have mercy on this woman who had likewise deceived him, but in his heart, he knew that he could not simply abandon a woman to her own devices in the wilderness, especially not a Sassenach lost in a country not her own. “We will take her with us but place her in a hiding place and tell her tae head tae the village if we dinnae return.”

“Aye, a sound plan, lad. Come. We are ready. Now that ye are awake, we should rush tae the camp tae wait until the right moment. We will find our hiding places in the trees.” Eamon stood, feeling a little bit stronger. Lukas handed him a flask.

“Drink this, lad. Find yer strength. Here is a hunk of bread as well.” Eamon took them gratefully, feeling even stronger as he filled his belly. He tried to keep Isabelle from his mind and just focus on his brother’s pain. She would be witness to his brother’s execution if he did not get there in time. He thought angrily, it would give her the recompense she deserved.

They slid over to Arya, and Eamon pressed on her shoulder to rouse her. Once she awoke, she looked up at Eamon’s face with concern. “You have awoken, sir. I was worried about you.”

“Nae tae worry about, lass. We go tae find my brother.”

“And the mistress?” Arya asked, hope in her eyes.

His voice was tight with emotion. “Nae. She has chosen her lot. We fight only for the life of my brother. Ye will come with us and wait in hiding. If we dinnae return, we will show ye the way tae the village, so that ye can find help.”

Arya nodded silently. He could tell she was on the verge of saying something but refrained. He stood, stretching his arms out. “It is time. Let us go.”

They clambered up onto their horses, and Arya rode with him as they edged out of the forest. With each step they took away from the heavy-laden darkness, Eamon felt just a little bit lighter. The forest held omens of death, and it had clouded his mind. At least now, in the light of the stars and moon, he could feel some semblance of hope. They rode out into the openness of the countryside, but the night was dark enough, and they did not fear they're being exposed.

Lukas led the way, but Eamon started to get worried when he could see nothing that gave him any indication that a camp was nearby. There was no firelight, no tents, no tracks of humans or horses heading in their direction. Where could it be? Perhaps his friend had been wrong? He cursed himself for being unconscious for so long: another weakness that perhaps had lost him too much time to find his brother alive and well.

He rode next to Lukas. “Where is it? I see naething.”

Lukas turned from side to side and slowed. “It should have been here. They couldnae go so far. I could have sworn I saw them head in this direction.”

Eamon looked back at his men when his horse stepped into a pile of wood. He pulled Aine away and looked down at a pile of smoldering ashes at her hooves. He cooed her as she began to bristle. “Sorry, lassie.” He squinted into the darkness. “Lukas, look at this.” He gazed around the ashes and saw footprints and holes for stakes. There was even a stray rope. They have been here.”

Lukas nodded in assent, spinning his horse around as he took in the surroundings. “Aye, but where have they gone?”

* * *

Isabelle had fallen asleep for a brief moment before she was roused again and roughly. “Come, we are off!” The rude voice bellowed into her ear, and she was pulled into standing after the ropes were cut from behind her.

“What? Where are we going?”

“Your father wishes to leave. It is not safe here in the middle of this brutish wilderness.” The guard pulled her and Sean towards horses, their hands still tied. In all the time she was asleep, the camp had transformed, reduced to nothing. Even the fires were stomped into darkness. Her heart began to race. Where would they be going? And why? She knew what her fate was going to be, but she was not yet ready for it. She had not had time to prepare for death and disappointment.

Sean and Isabelle stumbled towards the horses, being pushed onto them with the assistance of the guards. Their hands remained tied, and their horses were tied to others so that they could not dream of escape. She wondered idly where the carriage had gone that she’d been so used to traveling in with her father. With her little bit of sleep, renewed life began to stir in Isabelle’s breast. Perhaps there was some hope of survival with their departure? Perhaps there was something?

She saw Martin scuttle by as he made preparations to leave. She whispered into the night, “Martin, where are we going? What is this?”

Martin stopped and turned to her, looking up into her face as she sat atop a horse. “It is not safe. The guards were meant to inform you. We have heard rustlings in the woods. We are too exposed. He wishes to conduct the executions at the Fort.” He turned away, a slight smile on his face.

What had happened to Martin in all these years? Why the man is practically gleeful at my demise! She chewed on his words, lifting her head to the stars. This time, she prayed for mercy, hoping that somewhere someone would find them and rescue them. She had seen it in her dreams, a blurry vision of Eamon rushing through the trees to slaughter the men who held her captive, truly captive this time. It had given her the calming rest she had been needing, but once she awoke, it was only to be replaced with cold despair.

Execution. She saw the word etched across the canvas of her brain. It seemed foreign, unreadable to her mind. Had she ever thought she would be here, resigned to this of all fates? She glanced at Sean, who stared back, hollowness in his gaze.

With the bellowed call of her father, the convoy began to move, and she gripped tightly to the saddle, determined to find a way out.

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