Ann Carr (3 page)

Gabriel couldn’t help the quick glance he sent back to his daughter and immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw all of the sadness and confusion now etched upon her face as she stood staring at him.

He didn’t know any of his children particularly well, apart from the older ones who now fought by his side, but he’d always had a soft spot for this daughter, his youngest, which he had always been very careful to hide; because to show affection was to show weakness; and weakness might eventually be used against him!

Disgusted with his own thoughts Gabriel reminded himself that the only way his daughters were of any use to him was through the alliances that they would make on their wedding day. No one knew it yet, but the other three were to share the same fate as his youngest daughter. It was only a pity no one would take his wife off his hands too!
he thought with dark humor. He had to remember his goal and the most important thing was to defeat the Scots, he had lived his whole life fighting them, and now that he had more subtle tools at his disposal he was going to make sure that he used them! This war wasn’t going to be won in his lifetime, but he’d make damn sure that his sons had a chance to carry on the fight!

With his strong resolve once more back in place, Gabriel turned around and walked back to Elizabeth’s side, “Get ready” he
demanded with finality, “you’ll be leaving for the border in the morning. Have your things ready to leave or they’ll be left behind!” Not giving her a chance to argue some more, he strode away, returning to the table to finish his meal.

Again Elizabeth found herself staring at her father’s retreating back and it dawned on her that she was really going to have to marry this Campbell! She’d be leaving her home and everything that she knew in the morning for a future that she was sure would hold no happiness for her. On a sob she bolted for the stairs, she knew that she had no way
out, her father had made sure of that! she thought bitterly, resentment building up inside of her. Resigned to her fate she knew what she had to do. She must pack! She had no option but to follow her father’s plans through, and hope that some good could be salvaged from her future!

Chapter Five

They stopped for only the second time that day and Elizabeth managed to gingerly lower herself to the ground, her whole body aching and tired from the long journey that they’d made. She didn’t relish the thought of getting back on her horse tomorrow to endure an equally long and tiring journey. Her body just wasn’t used to riding these sorts of distances!

As she took her first step without the support of clinging to the side of the saddle, she was nearly knocked down by her brother, Richard, as he came charging on his horse towards her, stopping only inches from where she was standing.

“We’re stopping here for the night Elizabeth. Isn’t it exciting! We’re really in Scotland! Can you believe it?” he was all but shouting; too excited to remain calm. Turning his mount he shouted over his shoulder, “I’m going to help the men set up camp! See you later!”

Elizabeth’s lips twitched as she watched Richard charge away. Even so she couldn’t help wishing that he’d stayed with her, to help keep her mind off the events of the coming day.

For the last few hours of the journey her mind had been dwelling on what was to happen in the morning. This time tomorrow she would be married! To a man she had never set eyes on, never met before. The sad part was that she knew she would never again return home. Her future was here, in Scotland, this strange country with people she had only ever heard bad stories about.

Suddenly just needing to be alone with her thoughts, Elizabeth climbed slowly back into the saddle. Right now she wanted nothing more than to clear her head and nothing was better for that than racing across an open field atop Dancer, now that was freedom!
She thought in anticipation.

Moments later, as her horse stood on the edge of the hill with the men behind her busy setting up
camp; she was left completely breathless with the beauty of all that was before her. So this was Scotland! She thought in pleasure. It was all so similar to the country that she had just left behind, but so different at the same time. Everything seemed more vivid, more alive. The grass was greener, the sky bluer, the wind was stronger and the noises all around her were louder. The sun appeared to be shining so much brighter, bathing everything it touched in golden light which managed to highlight the beauty all around her.

As she stared at this magnificent country spread out before her she felt her spirits start to lift, her mood begin to lighten; perhaps her future wasn’t going to be as bad as she’d been imagining, perhaps she should be looking for the positives in this situation!

Letting out a whoop of delight, Elizabeth kicked Dancer’s flanks, encouraging him to race down the open meadow before them. Relaxed for the first time in days she flung back her head, laughing as her long blond hair was whipped behind her by the last of the crisp winter wind. It would soon be spring she mused, wondering what spring in Scotland would hold for her.

As she neared the forest at the bottom of the meadow, a small creature startled her as it darted out of the trees. Quickly she acted to bring her horse to an abrupt stop so that she didn’t trample the creature to death. But as she jerked on the reigns Dancer reared up, and in the next second Elizabeth found herself
lying on the hard dirt, staring up at the sky, every muscle in her body completely numb. Lying there, unable to and not wanting to move, she watched the fluffy white clouds pass in front of the already descending sun. She couldn’t help but enjoy this first moment of peace of a very long and hectic day. All of her muscles began to relax and her body felt as though it was melting into the surprisingly warm earth upon which she was lying. Her mind began to drift, now clear of its earlier worries; the poor creature which she had nearly trampled was all but forgotten and her eyes began to sleepily narrow as she began to drift into a light doze.

It took a few moments before she noticed the shadow which had been cast over her face. As she moved her head to discover what had caused it she noticed the flash of metal reflecting the sun. Suddenly wide awake, body fully alert, every muscle contracted with fear, she reared up into a kneeling position, eyes now huge violet orbs in her ghostly pale face. She managed to regain her senses and reached out to grab the wrist holding the knife just before it made fatal contact with its target. Her chest! The body attached to the knife began to struggle, before she had time to react, both she and her attacker had fallen to the floor, both wrestling to gain control of the knife.

Elizabeth rolled over until she was lying on top of her assailant, at the same time she grabbed hold of his wrist, using her free hand to reach for the handle of the knife, her body pinning her attacker to the ground.

Her hand made painful contact with the knife blade, which sliced through the delicate flesh of her hand. It stung, but instinct told her she didn’t have time to dwell on the pain. With a last burst of adrenalin she once again reached for the knife, this time successfully making contact with the small handle. Using all of her remaining strength she twisted the knife out of her attacker’s hand. When he failed to release it she bodily surged upwards into a semi kneeling position, at the same time wrenching the knife free from his grasp.

In her relief at being in control of the weapon, she released his wrist without thinking. The first time she realised what she’d done was when she saw a small fist arching towards her face. Quickly, she ducked out of the way, narrowly escaping the impending fist against her cheek bone. As she ducked he launched himself towards her, again sending her toppling to the ground, before he raced off towards the cover of the trees.

Without thinking, Elizabeth immediately jumped to her feet and started running after him. As she reached his back, she launched her arms around his chest to stop him from his escape. He in turn started to struggle, his legs jerking backwards trying to kick her in the shins. Fortunately none of his kicks made contact, and her arms around him managed to subdue any attempts he made to attack her with his arms.

It was only when she realised that she had a strong enough hold on him that he wouldn’t be getting away that the haze fear and anger began to subside, once again she was in control of her senses. It was only then that she realised that her attacker wasn’t a man, but a boy, a small boy at that! Elizabeth’s hold on the boy loosened and he took advantage of that to swing around and knock her over before running away again.

Before he reached the trees he turned his head, and when he saw that the lady wasn’t chasing him he stopped. Curiosity obviously was getting the better of him, and slowly, gingerly, he half tiptoed closer to the lady still sitting in a heap on the ground. Why wasn’t she chasing him?

Hands on hips, in a show of bravado, Ewan stood looking down at the lady at his feet, raising his voice to disguise the slight tremble in it he demanded, “Why aren’t ye following me?”

Elizabeth’s mouth started to kick up upon hearing the question; however she tried hard to control it because she didn’t want to offend her young attacker. He looked so cute, hands on hips, dark head tilted to one side, such utter seriousness mingled with confusion displayed on his young face. It was so surprising watching a boy so young taking on such a powerful and commanding stance that Elizabeth was unable to take him seriously. He was no longer a threat to her, so instead of responding to his question, she asked one of her own, “Why did you just try to kill me?”

Ewan couldn’t believe that the lady was so dumb. He had been hiding in the forest when he’d heard voices and had looked up to see what had appeared to be hundreds of Englishmen on horses stopping in the middle of the clearing on the top of the hill. He had known that they were English even before he’d seen the flags that they had been carrying because no Scott would have stopped to make camp in the middle of the clearing, or be making so much noise in the process. He was only eight years old but even he knew that doing that was a sure way of getting yourself killed! Their clothes had also given them away, because his father had repeatedly told him that no self-respecting Scottish man would be found wearing trousers!

Eventually Ewan found his voice, “because
yer English of course!” he stated as though talking to an imbecile.

“Oh!
Of course!” Elizabeth hid her smile as she slowly rose to her feet, she didn’t want to startle the boy.

“And I really
dinnae like the English!” he clarified in case she still didn’t quite understand.

“Well I guess that’s OK because I don’t particularly like the Scots either!” Elizabeth took a step forward and extended her hand, smile on her face, “My name’s Elizabeth, but my friends calls me Beth”.

Ewan stared at the hand extended out towards him with a look of utter bemusement on his young face. He had just tried to kill her, had just this moment said that he didn’t like her and yet she still wanted to be friendly! He had always known that the English were strange creatures and this pretty English lady just proved his point!

“You don’t like the English, I don’ like the Scottish”, she shrugged, “but that doesn’t mean that we can’t talk to each other, does it? After all you are the first Scottish person that I’ve ever met!”

Elizabeth's hand remained in the space between them. Waiting. It took Ewan a few more seconds before he cautiously took a step forward and reached out his small hand to meet Elizabeth's. Yes, he thought, the English sure were strange!    

Duncan lay tensely as he watched his son reach out to the English lady.

“Can
I let ye up now, without ye making a fool of yerself and getting us all killed?”, Malcolm asked in a low voice as he slowly lifted his huge bulk from where it had been pressed along Duncan’s back, pinning him to the ground. As the weight shifted, Duncan remained where he was, face down on the clearing, and just yards away from his son.

Duncan and his men had been camped in the forest for the last twelve hours, waiting for the English to arrive. The agreement had been that they were to meet another four hours ride into Scotland, but even though this was supposedly a peaceable meeting, Duncan wasn’t fool enough to let down his guard completely. Originally he had planned to send out a couple of his men to sit watch in this very spot, to scout out the English and make absolutely certain that they weren’t walking straight into a waiting ambush.

              It was only on Malcolm’s advice that he had changed his plans, as Malcolm had put forward a good argument that they could use this opportunity to view the coming Campbell bride. Indeed it seemed that Malcolm was more eager to meet the young English lady than Duncan was himself, finding the whole situation unbearably funny. Duncan had had to endure two long days of his friend’s bad jokes about his impending marriage, and as Malcolm’s humour over this mission increased, Duncan’s own mood had become more and more sour.

Duncan cursed the fates that were throwing him into this second marriage. He could understand Malcolm’s
humour at the whole situation, but he couldn’t share in it. Eight years earlier, with a wild storm bursting all around him he’d stood on the top of a hill, at the foot of the mound of dirt that was his wife’s grave. Upon that grave he’d vowed to himself that he would never again take a woman to be his wife. And for eight years he’d been allowed to keep that promise. For eight years! Until fate threw an English girl and an old promise into his life! He cursed his father, knowing that from tomorrow a whole heap of trouble would be entering his life.

Now, he raised his head up and gazed towards his son and watched as the young lady let out a shrill whistle, which any man would have been more than happy to take the credit for, completely unaware of the danger that was so close to her. Duncan raised himself to his knees and brought his hand down to rest easily on the hilt of his sword, for the moment prepared to do no more than wait and watch.

Elizabeth let out a gentle laugh as she watched Dancer raise his head, shaking his long mane frantically before he stopped, looked her dead in the eye and then turned back to munching on the delicious grass at his feet.

“Hey miss, that horse of
yers is ignoring ye!”  Ewan exclaimed very loudly and slightly triumphantly from beside her.

Casting him a knowing grin, she again lifted her fingers to her lips and let out a second piercing whistle. This time succeeding in her aim as Dancer meekly trotted towards her, lowering his head as he approached to roughly rub his nose against her shoulder.

Ewan approached him in awe “aw, but he’s magnificent!” he exclaimed “can I touch him?” he asked raising his hand towards the horse.

“Of course!”
Elizabeth allowed, smiling down at him, watching as he patted the large animal “it looks as though you’ve made a friend there Ewan”, the smile was still in her voice as she patted his shoulder.

Ewan looked up with happy eyes, “can
I have a ride of him?” he asked hopefully.

Laughing at his eagerness Elizabeth took the reins into her hand, unable to refuse the beseeching look in his eyes. She watched as he began to climb into the saddle with some difficulty, knowing that even in one so young, his stubborn male pride would not allow him to ask for her help.

It must have been a noise or vibration that caused Elizabeth to turn at that precise moment and when she did she froze to the spot; for coming down the hill towards them was a group of ten riders, swords already drawn and raised up in the air. It didn’t take long for Elizabeth to recover from her surprise and she instinctively reached behind her for the bow and arrow she wore strapped to her back at all times. Before she made contact she recognized the men coming towards her as her own men, not a band of Scots as she had first assumed. But what...?