Authors: Kella McKinnon
Ross gave a short laugh.
“
You
’r
e
lying
!
Why would
you
not be?
You
lie to protect the
very
man you seek
to find
your fortune with
!
”
Ella sucked in a breath. Not only was this man dangerous and volatile, she began to feel that he was also not entirely sane.
In the next moment she was sure of it.
He
turned and
g
rabbed her fiercely by the arms. His fingers sunk into her flesh and he shook
her until it was all she could do not to cry out in pain. Only her anger and pride kept her from doing so.
She bit her tongue to make sure she did not make a sound.
He wanted her to weep and beg, she knew it.
“Tell me the truth girl!
Are you
secretly
wed?
Has
he
had
you?
”
H
e seeme
d to search her face
for answers
. “Perhaps you already carry his child
?”
She said nothing
,
kept her face carefully blank,
and so he threw her roughly to the floor
.
She landed hard on her backside, pain shooting
up
through her
body
. But still, she managed to look up at Ross and glare at him with all the ferocity she could muster.
Aye, h
is evil was driven by a deep
er madness
all right
. He abruptly seemed to come back to himself, brushing at his surcoat as if nothing had happened.
“Very well then.
We’ll finish this later, as
you
wish. I have more important business to tend to first.
Morag!” The maid appeared in front of the dais and gave a small
, timid
curtsy. “Take our guest to her room for the even
ing. It seems she’s not hungry
.
”
He
sat down and
leaned back in his chair,
picking
up the goblet of wine in front of him,
and
taking a long swallow.
“And Morag, don’t forget to lock
and bolt
the door, lest she wander at night and get lost,
or, er… fall down the stairs.”
Ella
looked back to catch his hateful smirk as she
followed Morag
back to her chamber.
Once there, s
he
sat down
shakily
on the bed while the maid lit the fire and readied the room.
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself so that she
could keep her wits about her.
She glanced at the
still o
pen door, noting the guard standing in the hall.
Perhaps if she was careful, she might get some information from the
maid
. It was worth a try
, at least
.
She put her hands to her face, feigning the kind of weak, womanly distress she had never known
and didn’t care to
.
“I
don’t
understand
, Morag, why I’ve been brought here. I was merely a guest at
Tulloch
Castle. What possible harm is there in that? I
can’t
think why one lass would be such a threat to the ambitions of
these
men.
Oh merciful God, w
hat does he mean to do with me?
”
The maid turne
d to look at her, and
Ella
thought she could also see the
other
woman’s pity for her plight.
“One lass has been the downfall of many a great man
”, she said thoughtfully.
“
Lord Ross is ambitious
.
You
aren’t
the first lass he’s broug
ht here who has the look of her,
you
know
.
”
Ella
was
genuinely
confused
now
.
“The look of
whom
?”
The maid looked at her like she was daft.
“The girl in the legend”, she said with authority. “
You know, flaxen hair, eyes of blue…
Edith found the
parchment years ago
, hidden away behind the mantle
. She can’t
read
of course
, but Thomas can, and so we
know
all about t
he one who is meant….”
She broke off abruptly, as if she had tho
ught better of talking about it, and a
look of fear ca
me over her face as she
glanced towards the door, realizing
what she had
already
said. Ella had begun to suspect the perhaps this Morag was none too sound in the head, either. Wonderful! Was she trapped in a manor full of lunatics?
Some of them murderous?
“If there’s nothing else, milady, I must be off.”
Morag
had disappeared behind the closed door before
Ella
could even open
her mouth again to speak
.
She heard the bolt slide home, locking her
in.
What legend?
A girl who was meant to do what?
Perhaps it was all just superstition, not at all
an
uncommon
occurrence
in the highlands.
Or madness
, she reminded herself.
Though
even superstition and legend were
usually
based on some kernel of truth…
madness… there was no help there. B
ut she
didn’t have time to
think about that.
She needed to escape,
now
, before it was too late.
She knew
in her gut
that if Lord Ross continued his questioning, she would suffer greatly, perhaps even die at his hands.
No, surely die
, it was just a matter of when
, of how long she could last…
She shivered
as prickly fingers of fear slid down her back
.
And she had to warn
Ceann
about his uncle; clearly the man was plotting against his own nephew
.
Did
Ceann
know? If he didn’t, he was in great danger.
Ceann. She would give anything to be safely at Tulloch right now. Anything to be held
safely
in his powerful arms. The feeling of longing came over her so strongly that for a moment it
overwhelmed even her fear.
She waited for
full
night
to fall, alternately pacing the floor and collapsing on the bed. When at last the light
had
fade
d
, s
he pressed her ear against the door and listened. The muffled sounds of breathing and the
faint
rustle of clothing told her t
here was at least one guard outside the door to her chamber, and doubtless others at the door of the
manor, and more still at the gate
. She
would never get past them all, even if she did manage to get the door open somehow.
That left only the window. She walked over to it and looked out. There was no one in the garden below. In the soft
light
, she could
see the
postern
gate at the far end, unguarded except for the men on the wall above. They were looking out, away from the keep. If she were lucky, she could slip out unseen, and staying in the shadow of the wall, reach the safety of the trees. Risky, at best, but what other option did she have?
For all she knew, Lord Ross could be planning to kill her in the morning, or worse.
She had no intention of waiting patiently to f
ind out. The man was pure
evil;
she did not need one of her visions to know it,
she could feel it in her very bones.
Steeling herself, she set about knotting linens together; first the ones on the bed, then the ones
she found
in the trunk as well.
It was not easy
with the way her fingers trembled
and her eyes kept welling up with anxious tears
, but she finally managed to knot them all.
She carefully fed her makeshift rope out of the window, watching to see how
far down it went. Close enough;
she could drop down the last several feet.
She knotted the linen rope tightly to the bedpost, then s
lowly
, painstakingly, lest she alert the guards with a sound, she shifted the
small
bed under the sill
. Her heart began to beat wildly as
she climbed up into the window, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself.
Cautiously
, holding on
for dear life, she lowered herself
over the ledge
and began her descent.
She
crept down
inch by inch,
her hands gripping the linen
, her toes trying to find purchase in between the stones. She moved as slowly as she could,
lest her movement attract anyone’s passing attention.
By the time she neared the bottom, her arms were shaking and she thought she would not be able to hold on.
She did.
When finally she dropped to the ground, she
held perfectly
still for several moments,
breathing deeply and
regaining her courage.
Then, crawling low through the garden
on her hands and knees
, s
he made it to the
postern gate. The guards on the wall above were
still
facing outward, watching for anyone approaching the
manor
, and so they did not see her push the gate
open just enough to slip through,
and press
herself to the outer wall. It seemed to take forever to
sidle
her way
slowly
around to the other side,
her back to the cold stone,
but when she finally reached the cover of the trees, she
gave
a sigh of relief, letting go the breath she had been holding.
Now she only had to find her way back to Castle
Tulloch
. Out of the hands of one captor and back into the hands of the other, she thought ruefully. If she was honest with herself, she much preferred being held captive by
Ceann
; his uncle left a lot to be desired.
She started walking
softly
into the wood
,
then running, when she
thought she
was far enough away not to be heard. She needed
to be
well
away when come morning she was discovered missing.
The panic she had
continually
held at bay since her capture now gave her the power to run fast and far before she finally tired, slowing back to a walk.
How
did I escape
so easily?
Was
it just luck?
Her arms begin to sting as the adren
aline
wore off and she felt the many scrapes and lashes from her headlong flight through the trees and brambles.
Her whole body was shaking
now
and her legs felt weak and watery.
Did they let
me
escape?
Are
they following
me
even now?
She hadn’t
really
let herself consider
that possibility
before
, and
she
turn
ed nervously to look behind her, panic rising again
in her chest
. Perhaps they were toying with her, making her think she had escaped only to…