Highlander's Promise (5 page)

Dawn did not waste a minute. She kept her steps light as she walked along the, stone hallway, keeping close to the wall and the shadows. It was not difficult to stay in the shadows since the wall torches let off little light. When she reached a staircase that joined another, she recognized where she was and took the steps carefully. And just as carefully and quietly, she made her way through the passageway that held the four cells, two on either side that she had seen when she had first come this way. She did not want to think of the poor souls that were locked behind the doors. There was nothing she could do for them. She was here for Cree.

She reached the second staircase and her thumping heart began to pound madly in her chest. Soon, very soon she would be with Cree again and this time he would leave with her. Footfalls suddenly approached and she braced herself against the dank wall, letting the darkest shadow she could find consume her.

The footfalls grew louder and in a few seconds a guard walked past her, so close that she feared he would be able to smell her, but then the already foul odor in the air no doubt helped to disguise her own unpleasant scent.

Once he passed by her, his footfalls no longer heard, she hurried to the lone cell and gently shoved the key in the lock, opened the door, and slipped in, closing the door behind her.

An arm snagged her around the waist and yanked her back against his hard chest while a harsh whisper sounded in her ear, “You disobey me yet again.”

Dawn pressed a finger to his lips and with quick gestures let him know he was to follow her lead.

He was about to say something when footfalls sounded again, no doubt the guard returning this way. In one swift motion, Cree drew them both into a corner of the cell and there they remained wrapped around each other as the guard approached. As soon as the guard made his way passed the door, they slipped out, locked it, and Dawn lead him up the two flights of stairs to freedom.

Cree was not surprised to see Old Mary when they came upon the woman.

“No time to explain,” Old Mary said. “You must go with Dawn and stay hidden where she puts you until it is safe to come out. Now hurry.”

Again Cree did not argue, though it was difficult to hold his tongue. He followed Dawn out and saw Old Mary gesture to her and his wife shake her head. Old Mary’s head kept nodding as she swung the door shut behind them and the key clicked in the metal lock.

Cree looked at his wife. She shook her head, hoping he understood that he was not to worry that it was part of the plan and he did not protest. He continued hurrying along with her, yanking her deeper into the shadows when he caught sight of a sentry along the walk wall.

They waited there, wrapped in the shadow’s protective embrace, the sentry not moving. Dawn rested her cheek on her husband’s naked chest. It was something she had done often, especially when she nestled beside him at night in bed. But now, this moment, she enjoyed more than ever before since she had thought she might never get the chance to do it again.

Tears stung her eyes when he eased his hand between them and she felt him press his hand to his chest, then to hers and held it there, letting her know how much he loved her. She pressed a gentle kiss to his chest and she felt him shuddered.

When they heard the sentry walk off, she reluctantly extracted herself from his arms and hurriedly led the way, eager to have this done and have her husband free of this horrible place and home where he belonged.

The rain had turned to a drizzle and Dawn feared that some of the travelers would return to camp fearful of what little they possessed being stolen. She stopped just before reaching the camp and looked around, nothing appeared to stir. She hurried Cree to the cart and worried he would protest when she shoved at him to climb into it. He hesitated only a moment before doing as she directed, though she could tell by how his dark eyes narrowed that he was not pleased with the situation.

He was too tall for the cart, so he had to curl his legs up near to his chin, not a comfortable positon but a necessary one. She spread the rags over him, arranging them so that they looked no different from before and thinking that no one would suspect the mighty Cree to be cramped tight in a cart, hiding under a pile of foul smelling rags.

She was feeling more hopeful that all would go well with Cree freed from the dungeon, and her heart swelled with joy. Fear, however, continued to linger, for they would not be entirely free until they were beyond the village walls.

Dawn leaned against the side of the cart when she finished, releasing a silent sigh and tensing the next instant when a figure stumbled out of the shadows toward her.

“Heard you gave Cree a good poking, how about giving me one?”

Chapter Six

Cree did not hesitate. He slipped out from under the rags, came around the cart and felt his simmering anger boil over when he saw his wife trying with little success to push the man off her. He wasted no time in coming up behind him and quickly snapped his neck. He had little choice in the matter under the circumstances. Besides, the man dared to touch his wife and that in itself was reason enough to end his useless life.

Dawn pointed at a wagon a few feet away. Cree dragged the man over to it and rolled him under it and onto his side so that he appeared as though he was sleeping. He returned to his wife, wanting to take her in his arms and make sure she was unharmed, but she had already pushed the rags aside and was waving for him to get back in the cart.

Before he climbed in the cart he whispered to her, “When we get home I am going to shackle you to me.”

Dawn smiled wide and quickly traced a cross over her heart, asking if that was a promise.

Her smile tempered as his scowl deepened. She would eventually answer to him for all she had done and she was looking forward to it, since his attempt at punishing her usually ended with them making love.

She once again arranged the rags over him and positioned herself on the side of the cart where she could see Old Mary approach. It was only a couple of hours before sunrise, and then they would be on their way.

Dawn remained alert as the time passed slowly and when the first ray of sun rose in the sky, she grew worried. Old Mary had yet to return and she recalled the old woman’s last gesture to her.

Leave if I am not there by sunrise.

Dawn did not care what Old Mary had ordered her to do. She would not leave her behind. Her heart pounded when the sun was full in the sky and a minute later Dawn pressed her hand to her chest as she saw Old Mary approach. Dawn could tell that her bones ached by her slow gait. She had to be exhausted, having not slept all night. Dawn wanted to run and hug her, but that would have to wait until later.

“Get moving, lass, you heard the soldier tell us yesterday that we had to be gone by sunrise or he would throw us out,” Old Mary said for Cree and those returning to their wagons and carts to hear.

Dawn helped her up onto the seat when no one was watching, and she could feel the fatigue in the effort it took the old woman to climb up even with Dawn’s assistance. But when Dawn hoisted herself up next to her, she was not surprised to see the old woman grip the reins tightly with her gnarled hands and guide the horse slowly along the path to the gatehouse.

Dawn wished they could go faster, but they would draw attention to themselves and so the short ride to the gatehouse seemed as though it took hours. She kept her head down and had to keep her hands clasped, they trembled with such worry. She wondered if the guards would poke the mound of rags with their spears and discover Cree beneath. But early morning saw the two guards yawning and more interested in seeing their night watch on the gatehouse done. They waved them through without a word.

Old Mary continued their slow pace, both women’s attention caught by the many riders and wagons that began to pass by them, heading to Loudon. A few people called out, inquiring about the prisoner and if a decision had been made to his fate.

“Three days and he is to be beheaded from what we hear, and it is a shame we will miss it,” Old Mary said to those excited about the event.

One woman, sitting beside her husband on a wagon seat, produced a gleeful smile when she learned the news. “Luck is on our side, it is. A beheading is always a good sight to see, especially one deserving of it.”

Dawn shivered, wondering how people could be so heartless, but then she had thought her husband heartless, having heard horrific tales about his exploits before she met him and got to know what a truly honorable man he was.

They could not get away from the walled town quickly enough for Dawn and once again she wished they could travel faster than a snail’s pace, though she understood why Old Mary had maintained a slower pace than usual. And when the road emptied of travelers, Old Mary’s words confirmed her suspicions.

“Where does Sloan camp?”

Cree explained in whispers and Old Mary followed his directions, after stopping and retrieving the sack that she and Dawn had hidden before they entered the Village of Loudon.

Old Mary directed the cart off the well-worn path, maneuvering it through the woods, hitting bumps and ruts and jostling its occupants so much that Dawn worried Cree would tumble out.

It was not long before several of Cree’s warriors suddenly appeared. When they saw that it was Old Mary and Dawn, they turned speechless and, shaking their heads, led them to the camp.

“What are you two doing here?” Sloan snapped sharply as the cart rolled to a stop.

Cree rose up out of the cart, sending the offending rags flying off him. He vaulted over the side with ease to land on his feet and was met with shocked silence.

Dawn smiled, for to her he looked as he did the first day she had laid eyes on him, only his wrists were not tethered with a rope. The muscles in his chest and arms gleamed with a fine sweat, defining their strength. His long brown hair was shot through with gold and the brilliant color of the sun, a distant contrast to his dark eyes that smoldered with anger.

“We have no time to waste,” Cree said, looking to Sloan as he stepped around the cart to lift his wife off and stand her next to him. “Minnoch will find out soon enough that I have escaped and he will send warriors to search for me, and I want us well on our way home before he does.”

Sloan shouted orders and the warriors got busy breaking camp. Cree hurried into a black shirt, one of his warriors handed him. He slipped on leather straps, crisscrossing them across his chest and shoulders and when they were in place, Cree slid his sword into the sheath on his back. A dagger was placed in his boot and another dagger went in the sheath attached to the strap that sat snug around his waist.

Sloan nodded to Dawn, anger in his voice when he asked, “Her neck bleeds. Who did that to her?”

“I did,” Old Mary said as a warrior helped her off the cart. She took a clean stripe of cloth from the pouch at her waist and approached Dawn with it to gently wrap it around her neck and absorb the blood that trickled from a small section of the wound. She looked to Cree as she finished. “Elsa must see to this as soon as we arrive home and I will speak with you about it whenever you wish.”

“The time will come for us to talk,” Cree said, “but now you will ride with one of the warriors and it will not be an easy journey.”

Old Mary smiled. “Life is not an easy journey. We do what we must to survive it.” She turned and gave Dawn a hug.

A tear trickled from Dawn’s eye as she gestured to Old Mary, letting her know that she was forever grateful, for without her help she would have never been able to rescue Cree. They hugged again and Old Mary walked off with one of Cree’s warriors.

“We ride through with brief rests for the horses and food,” Cree ordered.

“We have done this many times before, but the women have not,” Sloan said.

“They have no choice.” Cree turned to his wife and she gestured before he could say a word. He looked to Sloan with a smile. “She says make sure you do not slow her done.”

Sloan grinned and nodded to Dawn. “I will do my best, my lady.”

Cree’s stallion was brought to him and the horse snorted and stomped the ground as eager as Cree to be on his way. A warrior handed him a cloak and he draped it around Dawn and settled his hands at her waist and, with one swift lift, placed her on the horse and quickly mounted behind her.

Sloan rode up beside him. “All is ready.”

“The cart?”

“No one will ever find it,” Sloan assured him.

“Then let us be on our way.” Cree rode out in front, setting a strong pace and his warriors were quick to follow.

They rode for some time before Dawn could no longer keep a concern of hers to herself and she gestured her worry that the twins could be in danger.

Cree tucked her closer against him. “I would never leave them or you unprotected. More warriors were sent to Dowell.” Her scrunched brow and shrug let him know that she questioned his response, and he explained. “I made your father aware of my absence and asked him to stand ready to ride for Dowell with his warriors if it should become necessary. Word was sent to him of my capture. By now he and his warriors are well settled at Dowell.”

Dawn had not known Kirk McClusky was her father and he did not know he had a daughter, and they both had been pleased to find each other. She felt a great relief knowing her father would be there to protect his grandchildren.

She gestured, asking if Torr, her half-brother, and Wintra, Cree’s sister, would be with them, Wintra due to birth a babe in a few months.

“I had your father alert Torr to the situation and to have him stand ready if necessary, but to keep the news from Wintra. If she learned of it, she would want to ride for Dowell immediately and Torr would forbid it, since she is not feeling well.”

A scrunch and a shrug made him aware of her question.

“I only heard before I left that Wintra was not feeling well,” Cree said, knowing his wife was concerned for his sister, since they had become like sisters themselves. “When all is settled with this, we will visit.”