Page 61 of The Pirate Laird's Hostage

‘We cannot stay on Barra forever and have the Cranstouns come back and ambush us. It is a defenceless place, and we will be trapped like rats in a barrel. Better we make a run for home and take our chances, try and out-manoeuvre him on open water. ’

‘But the other clans at the gathering and Eadan? Would they not aid you?’

‘My allies respect strength, not cowardice. They will not intervene in a dispute between the Cranstouns and us. Instead, they will leave us to fight it out and follow the victor. So there will be an attack Morna, and it will be bloody.’

As the ship heaved over a big swell and out into open water, Will desperately scoured the horizon for signs of a ship, but there were none. Perhaps he was wrong and his fear unfounded. Yet every instinct he had was telling him they were headed into danger.

Just as Barra island grew small on the horizon, a shout went up. ‘Sails, to the west and gaining.’

Will squinted and made out three of them, but it was hard to tell how many precisely on a high swell and against a sky turned pewter with gathering clouds. He watched in horrified fascination as they drew closer and closer.

‘Get the ship around that point up ahead,’ shouted Will, ‘and sail close to the rocks.’

‘To what end Will, we are at full sail, it is making no difference? They are gaining on us,’ shouted Waldrick, his face full of tension. ‘We must heave to.’

‘No, full sail.’

‘If we go at it on full sail we may be blown onto the rocks.’

‘And if they follow us, so could they, so just do it…now,’ he bellowed. He turned to Morna white-faced at his side. ‘If we make it around the headland you must go below and stay there. This could get nasty.’

‘No, I can fight. I want to stay with you.’

‘I cannot get us out of this if I am worrying about you. I must put all my efforts into keeping us all alive, so you will follow orders and go below when I tell you. No arguments.’

‘Will, please,’ she said as the wind gusted and pushed the ship over at an extreme angle and sent her flying backwards. Will caught her just in time and dragged her to the mast where it was most stable. ‘You have to hold on tight and keep your head down and Morna…’

‘What?’ she shouted as the crashing of waves against rock grew louder.

Will turned back and kissed her hard. ‘I love you,’ he said and turned and ran to the front of the ship as it veered sideways in the swell, straight towards the jagged, fringing reef tumbling out at the foot of the cliffs above them.

Like a cork in a stream, they were at the mercy of the water and the wind. It would take the luck of the Devil to get past the rocks unscathed, but then the Devil had always been on his side more than God. He glanced back. Cranstoun’s ships were gaining, three of them, no more, now clearly visible and dangerously close.

The sails swelled, and the ship heaved over, it’s mast almost touching the dark loom of the rocks as water sprayed upwards in white foam where the waves hit with massive force. Soon that would be her hull and the ship would be doomed.

From nowhere, the wind dropped slightly, the sails sucking back and flapping softly, slowing them enough to glide onwards, within a few feet of the rocks. They cleared them and sped onwards, leaving behind what would have been a watery grave. Will looked sternwards as the wind lifted again.

The sails of Cranstoun’s lead ship strained taut as it rounded the point and there was a crunching sound as its hull scraped against the reef, leaving it pinned, as wave after wave buffeted the stricken vessel.

A cheer went up from the men. One enemy down, but there were still two more to go as the other Cranstoun ships managed to manoeuvre around the doomed ship and were now coming up on the north side of his own ship, to cut him off.

‘Will, look!’ shouted Waldrick.

Will turned to the bow and caught his breath. Up ahead, rolling in fast, was a dense fog bank, grey and suffocating, and the kind of sight to strike fear into the heart of any sailor. Now it could be their salvation.

‘Steer for it. I think we can reach it,’ he shouted.

Will held his breath. He hated to run from a fight, but survival was the goal now, especially with Morna on board. He could worry about his wounded pride later.

He glanced over at her, and those brown eyes were fixed on him.

‘If we reach that fog first, we can hide in it,’ he said, giving her a reassuring smile and she nodded in return before turning terrified eyes back at the Cranstoun ships, now level with them but further out to sea.

***

The fog was cold and clammy as it enveloped them, but it was some kind of safety. After a while, the frantic activity of the men lowering the sails calmed, and the ship meandered slowly and quietly over the water. This sea fret may be made of mist and damp, but it felt like a protective blanket and, as it melted over the ship, it got darker and quieter. Morna could barely see her hand in front of her face.

Will had hissed for them all to be quiet, so she stood with the others, silent, ears straining for any sound of Cranstoun’s ships, nerves to breaking point. All she could hear was the sound of waves crashing against the hull, her own rapid breathing and the thud of her heart against her ribs.

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