April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02 (5 page)

“But, Maggie I have nowhere to go.”

“My lady, if you stay...” Maggie stopped in mid-sentence and began to weep in her hands.

Jacqueline knew what she was going to say. That she would be charged with treason and put to death.

“How can I leave without being noticed?”

“You will need to take the secret passageways within the walls. If you stay to the right, it should take you to the cave next to the river. Do you remember the way?”

Jacqueline only nodded. Maggie moved the tapestry to reveal one of the several entrances hidden throughout the castle. As a young girl, Jacqueline often played within the passageways only to get lost several times. Jacqueline hugged Maggie and without saying a word, she slipped inside the small doorway.

“Bless you, Maggie.”

“May God watch over you, child.”

The passage was completely dark with no light to help guard her. Lightly, she pressed both of her hands onto each side of the wall and walked as fast as she could, trying to avoid tripping over the unleveled ground and broken floorboards. Scraping her hands on loose nails, she bit back the pain and kept going. She knew the entrance to the cave was quite a distance from the castle and that she did not have time to waste.

All three men stomped up the stairs towards Jacqueline’s chamber. Kicking the door open with great force, the men were not surprised to find it empty. Wayland looked around and noticed that the bottom left corner of the tapestry had been folded inward. He knew right there and then what had transpired. The guard was not mistaken; she had a role in their escape.

Lord Wessex stomped around the room. With his face burning red, he turned to both men and hollered, “We will search this place from top to bottom if we have to. If she is indeed gone then she has already admitted her guilt. Send the men and dogs out after her. Let it be known, if anyone offers her aid, they too will be charged with treason for aiding in her escape.”

“My Lord, she may have Scottish sympathizers, she did release their people. They will want to protect her,” Richard asked.

Knowing that Richard was correct, Lord Wessex suggested, “Then we will offer them a bounty they will not refuse. Forty pieces of silver for her capture and return.”

“Aye, My Lord,” Richard said as he bowed his head and exited the room with Wayland.

Once outside the room, Richard turned to Wayland. “I know she is your sister but I must insist that you do not interfere.”

“You know what will happen if she is caught.”

“Yes, I know.”

Towards the end of the passageway, Jacqueline saw a gleam of light ahead. Gushes of cold air blew down the tunnel as she got closer to the opening of the cave. As walls began to widen, Jacqueline slowed her pace. It wasn’t until she stepped into the small hollowed-out cave that she began to worry of what creatures may be seeking shelter inside. Knowing that the cave was still too close to the castle, she headed out through the woods.

Puddles of water and snow froze her toes as she ran but she would not stop. Wrapped in only her nightgown and hooded robe, Jacqueline shivered from the cold. Never before had she been allowed to venture out of the castle unescorted before. She prayed that she would stumble upon the freed men she had saved and ask for protection.

Jacqueline continued to run until her legs could take no more. Finding a small enclosure in between some thick bushes, she sat down to give herself a moment to catch her breath. It had felt as if she had been running for hours. Leaning up against a tall, mature oak tree, Jacqueline wrapped her robe tightly around herself and nestled within the protection of the surrounding bushes and closed her eyes.

Ewan raced his horse through the small village of Galston warning the villagers of the English who closely followed behind them. Knowing that the blackguards would tear through every croft in order to find the escaped prisoners, Ewan needed to ensure their safety. People scattered as they rode through. In the middle of the village stood a husky man with his arms crossed out in front of him. Aron paced around him in a circle while Ewan pulled back on his reins.

“My name is Ewan MacKinnon. We are seeking refuge from the English. They ride just beyond the hill.”

“Are ye saying that ye led the English here? Are ye daft? There be mostly woman and children here. We have no’ nearly enough men to defend ourselves,” a heavy-set man within the crowd barked at Ewan. 

“I mean ye no trouble. They are after them,” Ewan nodded in the direction of the sickly group of men. Continuing he explained, “These men are our Scottish brothers, held captive in the dungeons of England. They are sick with illness and disease and need to be attended to. Will ye show them no pity?”

Ewan watched the man’s eyes move back and forth from person to person as if he was assessing their injuries.

Nodding his head, he replied, “Aye. Name’s Athol McDaniel. We will do what we can, but I can no’ guarantee yer safety or theirs. Ye must ride through the forest across the glen. There ye will find shelter that should suit ye. It will take ye about a half day’s ride. It is no’ easily found but should provide ye shelter. Ye can take the men there. Me wife Mary will accompany ye and attend to yer sick. We will lead the English from this place. If there is no sign of ye and if they are desperate to find ye, they will move on their way.”

“Thank ye, Athol of Galston.”

Ewan waited as Mary climbed onto the back of one of the horses. Together they left into the direction that Athol pointed. Within the woods, they were unable to ride quickly or find an easy path as the trees had thick trunks and stood close to each other. Once they got to the burn, the trees opened and Ewan spotted the small dwelling in the distance.

Jacqueline woke to find herself huddled up, lying on the dirt ground. She wasn’t even aware that she had fallen asleep. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon allowing enough light to shine through the dense forest.

She stood up off the ground and combed her fingers through her long hair. Looking around she saw nothing but trees. Quickly, Jacqueline became agitated. She had no idea where she was or whether she was still in England or had crossed the border into Scotland. Concern for her safety and the reality of what she had done made her feel sick to her stomach. Shaming her brother was one thing but she was now a traitor to her country.

Jacqueline circled around a few times, feeling disoriented as for a moment everything became a blur. Trying to avoid fainting, she debated which direction to go and began walking forward, hoping that she did not get turned around and was heading straight back to Carlisle.

Jacqueline walked for several hours through the woods, tripping over dead branches that constantly snagged at the hem of her robe each time it caught on bramble and other leafless twigs. The trees were bare, except for the small spring buds just beginning to grow. Walking through puddles of water left her cloth slippers soaked that her toes became numb.     

With the sun reaching its highest, Jacqueline welcomed the warmth. Shivering from fear of the unknown was worse than the chill she felt as her attire did not provide much protection from the cold icy ground. She continued to walk within the woods wanting to stay off the road. Fearful of who else may be lurking in these woods.

And as if her prayers were answered, Jacqueline came upon a small croft that appeared abandoned for quite some time. Carefully and quietly walking closer, she looked around the woods to see if anyone else had claimed this safe haven. Nothing had looked touched or disturbed. No footprints in the snow. This was a good sign. A blessing of good fortune.

The door hung on only one of its hinges and the roof was faintly caved in. Having to lift the door slightly to get it to swing open, Jacqueline stepped inside. She closed the door behind her and went to investigate the room which was filled with dust and cobwebs.

The dirt floor did not provide much for comfort but at least being inside would keep her out of the cold air, she thought. The small room was empty, aside from a broken wooden table, a bucket and an old pile of straw. Torn rags hung over the windows keeping the light from shining in. In the corner of the room, she felt a slight draft of air coming from the fireplace. Satisfied that this place would do for now, she went outside to see if she could find some dry wood for a fire and to find something to eat.

Spotting a few logs easy enough for her to carry, she piled them up in her arms and carried them inside. She also found a bush with some black berries on them. By the evidence of shredded twigs at the base of the bush and torn leaves, Jacqueline assumed that this bush had also provided food for some woodland creature. Holding the skirt of her nightgown up, she picked as many as she could and placed them within the folds. Knowing that she lacked the skills to hunt, the berries would have to be good enough to fill her stomach until she found the nearest village.

Jacqueline sat in front of the roaring fire after several attempts, struggling to get the fire started without a flint. She took off her slippers to allow them to dry. Burying her face in the palm of her dirt-stained hands, Jacqueline wept. She knew that she would not be able to survive out in the wilderness alone. She couldn’t hunt; she had no weapons to defend herself and had no idea where she was going. The only comfort she had was the small purse of coin; she kept hidden in the bosom of her gown. At least she could purchase some warm clothing and have enough to get some food.

In the quiet room, her thoughts wandered. She thought about James and how she missed his friendly companionship. Now that she was no longer under the shackles of her brother, she was free to marry him. She knew that her first plan was to use some of her coin to hire a tracker to find him.

Jacqueline wiped her tears and stood up. Grabbing onto an armful of dry straw, she squealed as mice startled her, jumping out of the pile and running across the floor. Dropping the straw at her feet, she watched as the mice ran out a small crack at the bottom of the door. Taking a deep breath, she picked the hay back up and flattened it down next to the fire. Jacqueline draped her robe over the hay to rest. Staring into the fire, she prayed the critters would not return while she waited to dry.

Ewan watched as Mary unraveled the bandages she had tucked within her bag. Taking out several bottles and vials, she began cleaning and wrapping the wounds.

“This lad is verra sick. He is nay going to make it,” Mary said about one of the young lads. “Give him some warm broth to make him comfortable. I doubt he will live till the morn,” she instructed to Duff.

“Oliver, will ye speak wit me outside for a moment?” Ewan asked.

Oliver got up from his spot on the floor and followed Ewan outside. “What is troubling ye?”

“As soon as the men heal from their wounds, send word to Wallace. I will meet ye in Carrick. Robert the Bruce will want to know of our situation and success.”

“Where are ye going?”

“I am heading back to the village. They will need fighting men to ward off the English. I trust ye to get ‘em home.”

“Ye have me word.”

Ewan firmly shook Oliver’s hand and walked over to his horse. Swinging his leg up onto his horse, Ewan snapped the reins and dashed off into the woods.

Chapter 5

Jacqueline placed her hand over her stomach as it growled from hunger pains. Feeling well-rested and dry from the fire, she decided that now was a good time to leave. Jacqueline stood up and gathered her things. She was happy to find a nearby village to get a real meal before nightfall. Staying the night in the croft was not an option; she knew she couldn’t survive off berries alone. Before stepping out the door, her eyes followed the tree line, making sure that she was alone. She opened the door and headed in the same direction she had been.

Jacqueline followed the edge of the forest, walking on the dry ground where most of the snow had melted. Hearing the sound of birds squawking, Jacqueline looked up and watched as several birds circled the sky up ahead. Alarmed by their behavior, she dipped deeper into the woods. As she waited, two muffled voices carried by the wind started to become clearer. Jacqueline peeked her head from behind a tree truck and saw two men heading in her direction on foot, pulling on the reins of their horses to follow.

“Ye should have seen the bonny lass, I had in me bed last eve. Round rump arse and a nice plump breasts,” the younger of the two men said.

“I am thinking that yer whiskey has got to yer head, Malcolmus. I seen yer lass, and she was no’ bonny,” said the older man before laughing at his comrade.

“At least I had me a lass, when was the last time ye coupled wit a lass?” Malcolmus asked.

“I had me yer sister, if ye remember.”

“Why ye bastard.”

Malcolmus and the older man began to swing punches at each other, knocking one another to the ground.

“Stop it, ye eejit. Look, footprints in the snow…fresh ones.”

The two men stopped fighting and looked down at the small footprints that headed into the forest.

Nervously, Jacqueline picked up her skirt and began to run. Unaware if they were friend or foe, Jacqueline did not want to take her chances out here alone with no guard to protect her. As she ran, she heard the footsteps trailing behind her, coming up fast. As hard as she tried, she just wasn’t fast enough.

“Gotcha,” Malcolmus said.

Jacqueline screamed.

“Well, look what we have here. What would a lass be doin’ out here all alone, and wit nay any one to escort ye? Ye ken, ye look just like the lass the English are looking for.” the older man said.

“Aye. Are ye English lass?” Malcolmus asked in broken English.

Knowing that if she told them the truth they would most certainly return her to the nearest English outpost so instead, she lied. In her best Gaelic dialect, she replied, “Nay, let me go.”

“Nay, I am no’ thinking we are gonna do that. Malcolmus, why don’t ye go back and get the horses,” the older man suggested.