6

In the black of night, Meehall stopped Smoke on top of the ridge over Cameron camp, gave his horse the pat that said ‘hold still until told otherwise,’ and climbed down, leaving Sarah in the saddle alone. "If the Camerons find ye, ride away tae safety. Dinna stop till ye are back inside the gates o’ Inverness."

She started to object. He could see it in the way her eyes sparkled, the way she cocked her head to the side, the sharp breath she took.

He grabbed hold of her knee and shook it, stroking Smoke’s neck to keep the horse still. "Heed me, Sarah. There are na police in this time. If the Camerons find ye, ye must needs go back tae the inn and use the bracer tae return home. Tell Kelsey what happened. She wull ken what tae dae. Give me yer word ye wull heed this."

She swallowed, and tears fell from her eyes as she winced down at him from Smoke’s calm and steady back. "This is all getting tae much for my heart tae take, Meehall. Would that we had called upon Kelsey tae begin with."

"Aboot that," he said frankly, now gripping her knee in earnest while he rested a calming hand on Smoke’s nose. "I was na comfortable with Kelsey at oor private lunch yesterday. She looked at me the way the druids dae, ye ken? As if she could see my whole life playing oot before her. She has taken on their airs as wull. I am telling ye, oor friend bides inside her head somewhere, but she has become one o’ them. I dinna trust her."

Sarah's tears flowed freely now, dripping off her cheeks and falling down onto her dark woolen skirts.

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I dae ken. Hoping, I was, that it was just my own notion. But now I ken ye hae the right o’ it." She hastily took off her backpack, no small feat on horseback and holding the reins. "Here, I can offer ye a wee bit o’ help. This fancy bag o’ modern wonders is from the place where Lauren worked, back in our time. Kelsey gave it to me just last week, sae she isna all gone, I dinna think. Take this. 'Tis one o’ those emergency signal lights backpackers take intae the wild. 'Tis a verra bright light, and nay one here wull be expecting that." She handed him what looked like a thick pen.

"My thanks. It just may come in handy." He played with it for a moment, turning the strobe off and on, and when he was confident he could work it, put it in his sporran. He then trailed his hand along Smoke’s side while he walked back to the saddlebags. "Caress his neck, Sarah. ’Twill keep him calm."

She did as he asked, surprising him by keening to Smoke as she did. Pretty effectively, too, even if it did sound like she was petting a dog. "There’s a good boy. Yeah. Yer staying still, are ye na?"

He got his sword belt down and strapped it on over his kilt. "We wull be in a grand hurry when I return, sae let us now work oot who wull walk and who wull ride, and where. Yer friends are na fat, are they?"

Sarah laughed, and because she was still crying, her eyes sparkled like diamonds in the faint moonlight that managed to sneak down through the thick Scottish clouds. "Nay, neither o’ them weighs much more than 100 pounds. The four o’ us on Smoke will weigh nay more than two large men."

His hand moved to pat her knee in sympathy, but he resisted the urge to touch her again. "Wull enough. Here I go. Be ready. Put yer pack on the front o’ ye.” He waited while she did it. “Aye. I wull hand them up tae sit behind ye. I wull run."

She was trembling, but her tears had slowed.

Good. He needed her to have her head about her.

"Godspeed, Michael."

"I wull see ye afore long," he said as he turned around and headed for the steep trail he had made.

Aye, he had crept in among the Camerons before, to spy on them. They weren't nearly as careful as they should be with the side of their camp that was up against the mountain. Climbing down from above it was difficult, to be sure —he hoped the lasses would be able to manage, come to think of it— but it was doable. Eminently doable. Even in the dark, like now.

There weren't any fires in the camp. All were abed then, all who would be.

He was tempted to use the signal light to help him see. It was such a fun gadget, and he hadn't had much chance to play with gadgets these past eight years.

But he might as well put a big floating arrow over his head, saying ‘Here I am! Come get me, ye Camerons!’ So he painstakingly climbed down in the dark until he got to the edge of the camp and heard people snoring inside their tents.

Wait. Now that he was down here and no longer exerting himself to climb, he heard people talking. Who would be the only ones up this late? The guards. The ones who were guarding the lasses.

He crept through the camp toward the voices.

Lest anyone come out in need of relieving themselves, he always kept in mind where he would run and hide if that should happen. There was nothing specific about his apparel that would give him away, but the clan was small enough that they would recognize him as a stranger right off, even in the dark.

At long last, he came upon the lasses. Foolish Camerons. They had placed their captive brides  near the base of the mountain, on the opposite end of the camp from where he’d come down. There was another way up not far from here.

Now, all he had to do was sneak up behind the guards and knock them out, untie the lasses from each other's backs, and help them climb up to Sarah and Smoke.

He snuck around some bushes and readied the end of his sword to strike both men in the head.

He paused. The guards were ten feet away. Before he got to them, the lasses would surely notice him.

He put his finger over his lips and, praying the lasses would keep quiet and not give his presence away, he crept out from behind the bushes.

The one lass with the red hair and freckles saw him first. Good lass. She fell over on her side away from him, taking the other lass with her.

The other lass groaned at thudding upon the ground, drawing the attention of their guards.

Both men quit talking and looked down at the lasses.

Meehall made his move. After getting close enough to knock the one guard out, he raised his sword to strike the other.

But the Cameron who remained standing opened his mouth to yell.

Meehall covered the man’s mouth with his hand, but in order to do this, he had to drop his sword.

The Cameron got in a good blow to Meehall’s head.

Meehall wrestled him to the ground and subdued him, but he heard the camp rousing. He only had a few seconds before people would be here. He grabbed his sword, ran to the lasses, and used it to cut their bonds, whispering as he did, "We hae tae climb the cliff. Sarah is up there with the horse. We dinna hae any time tae lose, sae stay with me, ye ken?"

They both nodded fiercely, the one helping ungag the other.

He moved briskly toward the other trail, the more difficult one.

The lasses hurried after him.

They had gone thirty feet up when an arrow whizzed past his head.

"Go on, keep climbing," he told the lasses as he took out the strobe light and set it to not blink. He turned it on and aimed it where the arrow had come from, moving it around so that the impossibly bright light shone everywhere, hopefully making his enemies night blind.

Cameron cries of alarm pleased him immensely.

This part of the trail at the beginning was the hardest part though, and the lasses were having a lot of trouble finding hand and footholds in the dark.

"Would it be easier on ye if I went ahead tae show the way?"

"Aye," said the redhead. Ellie, from Sarah’s description.

He made his way up past them. “The right hand goes here, and then the right foot here, ye see?” He turned his head to check for understanding.

And then two Cameron men who obviously had not gotten the light in their faces popped up right behind the lasses, grabbed them, and carried them toward the camp down the steep trail.

The lasses kicked and fought, but they screamed too, no doubt waking the entire camp.

Why had he not seen that coming? Of course he hadn’t night blinded all the Camerons.

Meehall cursed, and then he yelled down to the lasses, "We wull return for ye. On my word."

There were fires in the camp now, so he could see the lasses being tied up once more. He could also see that more men were on their way up the hill after him.

Meehall cursed all the way up to the top of the mountain.

"Sarah! Sarah, over here!"

There were hoofbeats, but they sounded too far away. He ran in their direction, and just when he thought she was going to be too late and the Camerons were going to catch up behind him, she appeared.

She looked horrified.

He held up his hands to soothe her. "I had yer friends, Sarah. I had them freed, and they are wull." He climbed up on Smoke behind her, in the spot meant for her friends. "Not injured in the least. But then I lost them again. I'm sae sorry, Sarah."

Being surprisingly gentle to him who had disappointed her so, she pulled his arms tightly around her.

"What are ye on aboot?"

"’Tis naught," she said, but he could tell she was lying.

"I will na play this game with ye, Sarah. I ken ye wull tell me eventually."

This side of the mountain sloped much more gradually, and she coaxed Smoke into a canter, sensibly putting more distance between them and the Camerons.

He made his voice as contrite as he could, under the circumstances. "Ye must hae taken riding lessons since the last time we spoke. Ye are handling Smoke wull."

"Thanks,” she breathed out between hoofbeats. “He's a great horse. I only hae tae nudge, and he does what I want."

They had come enough distance now that no one would catch them on foot.

He took the reins in front of her hands and slowed Smoke to a walk. "Most o’ the horses in this time are like this. They dinna stand aboot all the live-long day like horses in oor time."

"Are Ellie and Nadia well? They didna… The men didna hurt them, did they?"

"Nay, nay they're wull.”

Something was dripping down his face. Annoyed, he shrugged up his arm to wipe it. And saw blood on his sleeve.

At the same time, what Sarah had asked him to try and do became difficult.

Sleep was taking him.

"Come tae think on it, I wull take a wee nap," he said, nodding off against Sarah’s back. “We need tae go tae Murray camp and get more people. Head through that pass.” He guided her sight along his arm and pointed. “Ciaran and Baltair will help us."

She groaned.

Vaguely aware of her reining Smoke in, he roused a bit. "Ye canna stop. Ye must keep on, or they wull catch us."

She turned in the saddle and started unbuckling his belt, her face intent on the task.

"Aw, ’tis na the time, Sarah."

Rolling her eyes, she fastened his belt to the saddle. "Ye canna hold on if ye are sleeping, now can ye?"

"I suppose not."

She tore a strip from her arisade and tied it round and round his head, then pulled his arms tightly around her again, but this time she tied them together at the wrists with a soft cord from inside her pack.

And just in time, because darkness took him as he collapsed against her back.