Aishlinn could not begin to guess how far she had travelled, only that she had been riding nearly non-stop for two days. Or had it been three? She had no clue.
She had remained hidden in the forests and trees, just as Baltair had told her to do.
Occasionally she would be forced to travel across open fields and wide streams for there had been no alternative.
Thus far, the only sign of life she had seen were birds, deer and the occasional tree frog.
Had she a weapon with which to hunt she would have killed anyone of those things to eat.
In the wee hours of yester morning she had come quite close to a small cottage.
Not knowing if she was still on dreaded English soil or that of Scotland, she had been too afraid to stop and ask for help.
Hungry, tired and in an ungodly amount of pain this day, she was beginning to regret that decision.
The land before her had turned greener and more lush the further north and west she travelled.
It was far different than the browns and grays of the English soil she had grown up on. Having never travelled more than a few miles from her home before, she knew not what to look for.
She searched her memory for any description of Scottish lands that Moirra might have mentioned but none came to mind.
All of Moirra’s stories had been about the
Highlanders
, not the Highlands.
She wondered if she would she even recognize a Highlander if she saw one. Her only frame of reference on the matter came from Moirra’s faerie-tales.
According to Moirra, they were all big, tall and quite hairy.
She was not sure if she should risk her freedom or her life based on the stories told by an auld woman.
Sometime late yesterday her saddle had become loose and fallen from the mare’s back, taking Aishlinn along with it. In too much pain, and exhausted from lack of sleep, she hadn’t the strength to lift it let alone enough to return it to the mare’s back.
She abandoned it and now rode bareback.
She had dismounted only long enough to relieve her bladder. Fearful that if she remained on foot too long the horse would wander away; she stayed upon the mare as much as possible.
The thought of having to walk to wherever the good Lord was taking her was far too frightening. When the exhaustion became too much to bear, she slept slumped over with her head resting upon the mare’s neck.
If ever she were forced again to make a decision between saving her own life and traveling alone, with no weapons, blankets or the means to start a fire, she might be tempted to choose death. It was becoming a far more amiable option the longer she rode.
It was too late now to change her mind. Nay, death from exposure was more desirable than death at the hands of the earl’s soldiers. She trusted that Baltair would be able to buy her some amount of time, but how much she did not know. Exhausted, cold and hungry as she was, she could not give up. If the guards ever found her it would be a most certain and painful death.
She was thankful that her stepfather had taught her to hunt and fish and to find her way about.
Growing up she had resented the man for not allowing her to be like the other young girls in their nearby village.
Many a time he had told her she was plain and no husband lay in her future so he taught her to take care of herself.
Now that she was far from the only home she had ever known and in very unfamiliar territory, she was glad for what he had taught her.
As she coaxed her mare along, images of her family kept flashing through her mind. Her mother had been gone so long that Aishlinn no longer remembered what she looked like. She could however, remember her mother’s gentle strength. Often she would hear Laiden’s voice as it offered words of encouragement that urged her on and begged her to not give up.
She would catch glimpses of Moirra’s smiling auld face as well.
Her heart ached from missing both women.
There were a few times when she could have sworn she saw the two women riding along with her.
It was those images from which she drew the strength to continue.
More often than not however it would be images of her father’s face that would come crashing in.
He always looked so disappointed.
Aishlinn felt as though she had somehow let the man down.
It was true that Broc had never been much of a father to her. Aishlinn was certain her mother had married him only to save her child from being born a bastard.
The man had not one redeeming quality that Aishlinn had ever witnessed.
Cold and hard he was with never a kind word to say to her.
Why he had chosen to keep and raise her, Aishlinn could never figure out.
He had made it abundantly clear over the years that she had not been wanted.
Visions of her brothers would come to visit her as well. Always they were mocking, taunting and laughing at her. They had never been particularly kind to her growing up. And their contempt of her grew greater after Broc’s death.
It had gotten to the point where Aishlinn could do nothing right.
No matter how hard she worked in the fields or in the home it was never good enough.
They would always find something to chastise her for.
Then nearly a month ago they came to her and informed her that she would leave that day for Castle Firth.
Horace, the oldest brother, was going to marry a young woman from the village.
He wanted the cottage they had grown up in for his own.
He felt the home not big enough for all of them, especially two women. So it was done; Aishlinn was sent to Castle Firth.
Admittedly, Aishlinn had felt a great sense of relief at the news. She would be away from the cruel brothers forever. Certainly life as a scullery or chambermaid had to be better than the life she had been enduring.
Had she known then what fate had in store for her, she would have fled to London the moment they told her the news.
She fought hard to push their faces and voices from her mind and tried instead to focus on freedom and her future.
She would daydream of a cottage by the sea perhaps. Maybe she would marry a decent man who would not beat her or insult her.
Maybe God would bless her with many bairns.
She would plant gardens and learn to weave.
Her home would be filled with much love and laughter.
But she had better chances of sprouting wings and flying to the moon than someday having a husband and bairns.
Her mind wandered back and forth from future to present making it increasingly difficult to concentrate.
Now was the time for focus, not silly daydreams. She had to keep her mind and wits sharp about her.
Aishlinn had slowed her mare to walking pace again.
It would do no good to have the mare collapse dead from exhaustion and leave her stranded on foot.
As her thoughts turned to a soft pallet and a warm meal she thought she heard the sound of voices.
She pulled the mare to a stop in a band of tall trees and strained her ears to listen.
It was men’s voices she heard coming from behind her.
The soldiers were near!
Fear and dread filled her heart and for a brief moment she thought of simply giving herself over to them.
The moment was short-lived however, when she thought of being hung, disemboweled and tortured to death.
She grabbed tightly onto the reins, kicked the mare’s flanks and flew into a full run. As she went crashing through the trees, the branches and limbs re-opened the cuts that had only begun to heal.
As fast as the mare ran, Aishlinn prayed.
Had God merely been tempting her with freedom? Was He now ready to punish her for taking a man’s life? Surely He had not let her come this far simply to have her caught now.
She kicked the horse again and held tightly to the reins.
The moment she caught sight of the men standing in the clearing she knew it was over.
The soldiers were not behind her but in front of her!
How could she have been so stupid!
Instinct told her to run and to run quickly! She kicked at her horse again and prayed that the mare would somehow sprout wings and fly her to safety.
She had paid no attention to the ground under the horse’s feet. Her only thought was
o
f escape.
She was horrified when she felt the horse stumble, and then rear its head.
Unsuccessfully she tried to settle the mare, holding
on as long as she could.
When the horse reared again, Aishlinn knew instantly that all was lost.
She was sent flying from the horse’s back. Agonizing pain enveloped her the moment she hit the ground and bright dots of light flickered in her eyes before everything went black.
******
Duncan and his men had heard the rider coming toward them at a full run.
They barely had time to draw their swords and step out of the way before the rider came crashing through the trees.
They caught only a glimpse of a lass atop a gray horse as she tore past them.
Before he could warn her that she be running too fast upon the rocks, the mare stumbled and reared. Duncan could tell that the lass was holding on for dear life as she tried to settle the spooked animal. Before she could gain control, the horse reared a second time, pitching its rider off.
The lass had fallen hard! Momentum worked against her as she rolled a few times before coming to a stop face down in the frigid water of the stream.
Duncan reached the stream first and hurried in after the lass.
The icy water rose past his ankles.
He scooped her limp body into his arms and was surprised at how slight she felt. As Duncan carried her to a small clearing, Tall Gowan and Rowan pulled plaids from their packs. The men moved on instinct for there was no time to do much thinking on the matter. Duncan held the lass in his arms while his men covered her with the plaids and blankets.
Her clothes were soaked and clung to her skin and her wet hair was plastered to her face. Audible gasps were heard from each man when Duncan brushed aside her wet hair. Swollen black eyes and bruises covered most of her face and there were many small cuts on her swollen cheeks and lips.
Duncan wondered who could have done such a thing to someone so young and small!
Anger swelled in his belly where it quickly blended with disgust.
He’d seen soldiers wounded in battle that had looked better.
******
Aishlinn dreamt she was covered in deep snow. She was hiding from the earl and her brothers.
She could not remember ever being so cold or frightened.
The earl cursed while he made promises that once he found her he would have what he had wanted.
Then he would kill her.
The cold snow and her fear of the earl brought violent shivers to her body.
She wished her mum and Moirra would come and take her away to somewhere safe and warm.
Her heart sank when they did not answer her pleas for help.
Suddenly there were hundreds of soldiers surrounding her. They pulled her from her hiding place. She tried to explain to them that she had only been defending herself; she had not meant to kill the earl, only to frighten him.
Her pleas went unanswered as they lifted her from the snow and began stabbing her with their swords.
The earl and her brothers were laughing. The more the soldiers stabbed her, the more they laughed.
Bile rose in her stomach but she could not retch; she could only beg and plead for mercy.
******