Chapter 11
The cheers are thunderous and I cringe as metal clashes against metal. One by one, the men meet in battle and as the winners advance, so does the day. Angus fights through the heat of the day. He doesn’t look weary, but how could he not be? When there are two men left, my heart beats out of my chest. Mary said I have to bear it, but I can’t. I turn to leave when the girls grab my arms.
“Katherine, you can’t leave now. This is the last match.” Claire’s bubbly reply is at odds with my frantic pulse.
“How can you stand it? Look at them!” I spare a glance at Angus. He’s covered with blood and sweat, the tendons in his neck and arms bulging. His hair has long since come free from his queue, and he looks every bit the savage Highland warrior.
I can’t watch anymore and bury my face in my hands. The crowd roars in my ears and the benches shake beneath me. And then, silence.
No longer do I hear calls for blood and “finish him.” Now, I hear my heartbeat and then suddenly, boots on the wooden dais coming closer toward me. Thump, thump, thump.
Calloused hands grasp my wrists. “Look at me, my love.”
I shake my head and Angus laughs.
“If you don’t remove your hands, how can I claim my prize?”
Reluctantly, I lower my hands, but I still can’t look at him. Instead, I stare at his hands, covered in blood and dirt. He cups my face and kisses my tears away, all the while whispering Gaelic against my wet cheeks.
His lips are warm and soft, and I can feel his breath against my face. He fought for many reasons, but as the girls said, he ultimately fought for me. I’ve never been a prize for anyone, cherished above all things. That’s how he makes me feel, and I should tell him that. His lips press gentle kisses upon my tear-streaked face and now hover slightly above mine.
He’s asking me. He could easily have taken me, and I would have happily given, but this time, for the first time, he’s waiting for an answer. As I raise my face and meet his eyes, a scream pierces the air. Angus turns from me at the same time pushing me behind him. Claire and Margaret’s eyes are wide and filled with terror. I can’t see what’s going on but I hear swords clashing and the shrill screeches of the horses and the battle cry of the Guard.
“Go, Katherine!” Angus pushes me farther behind the dais, but I’m rooted to my place. The scene playing out in front of me is too horrible to believe. I glimpse the Murray flag, and it looks like they’ve called in reinforcements.
I watch as he jumps off the platform and into the fray. I never gave my answer.
There’s a pull on my sleeve as an arrow zips by my head.
“Now, Katherine! We must go!”
“No, I can’t leave him here.” It’s a crazy thought, I know. He’s a trained warrior, but I feel like my place is with him.
“Dinna argue.” Lady MacGregor is now at our side with Duncan, and we all scurry back to the castle. As we make our way, I chance a look back and see that we are being pursued by a soldier in colors I don’t recognize, but he clearly knows what he’s looking for.
“There!” he screams and points his bloody sword right at me. The soldiers in the immediate area look up and see me, too. I have to get away from the group so they aren’t hurt. Maybe I can lead the men away so that the rest can hide.
I look to Claire who’s nearest to me. “I’m going. You hide.” And I take off toward the horses. I hear them call for me, but I don’t look back. I continue forward as fast as my legs will carry me.
I reach the stables and the first horse I see with a saddle is Duff. I reach for his bridle and unhook him. When I finally get on him, I don’t think. I just go. I need to lead them away from my friends. No, that’s not accurate. They’re my family. They’re more a part of my life than anyone has ever been, and I have to protect them. I have no idea where I’m going. I just go.
The sounds of shouting men and galloping horses is much too close, but at least that means that they are following. It sounds like there are a lot of them, but I don’t dare turn around to look. I can’t be distracted from my mission. The forest is at the edge of the clearing, and I decide to take my chances among the trees. I have to slow a little because I’m afraid to hurt Duff, but I can’t let them gain too much. I have some sense of self-preservation.
The foliage here is too thick and I’m forced to slow my pace. I’m not sure where I am. The tall pine trees block most of the sun, and I can hear only Duff’s hooves crunching along the fallen leaves and my breathing. My sweaty palms grip the reins, and I pray I can stay far enough away until I can come up with a plan. Unfortunately, I hear the men not too far behind me, and it occurs to me that I may not get out of this.
I lean forward and pat Duff’s head and whisper, “Please get us out of here. I’ll get you all the carrots you want if you do.” We continue along with the soldiers in quiet pursuit. I know they are there, and so does Duff. There, ahead of me now, is a wide oak tree. To the left is a clear path leading to God knows where; to the right is a path up the side of the mountain. I know where I am now. Duncan told me about ancient caves covered with drawings. He said he’s found artifacts and coins. He’s quite an explorer. I can’t take Duff up the mountain though. I’ll have to go on foot.
We come to a halt and I slide off, patting him to go. He looks at me as if to ask if I’m sure.
“I have no idea, but go.” I say quietly to the disbelieving horse.
As he goes one way, I go the opposite, up the side of the mountain. My pace is slow but steady. I spare a glance behind me to see if my pursuers are still back there. I hear them but don’t see them. The rocks cut into my slippers. They were made to be pretty not practical. I chuckle. It’s not so different from modern footwear. The way is getting steep and my footing is encumbered by the long dress. I can’t hold my skirt back and climb at the same time.
Making my way around the side of the large outcrop, I see the entrances to the caves. I don’t want to choose an obvious cave, but I don’t have too much time to think about it. I run into the darkness and pray I’ve made the right decision.
It’s cold and dark. I run as deep as I can until I’m forced to slow because the light from the entrance doesn’t reach me any longer. Anything could be in here with me. I could fall into a pit or get eaten by a bear. Are there bears in Scotland? It’s an odd thought to have, but I can’t stop it. Better to think of wild animals than being killed by one of the soldiers following me—lesser of two evils at this point.
Fully dark now, I can’t see my hand in front of my face, but I decide not to stop. I’m not sure if they’re behind me and following quietly. I can’t afford to stop now. I find the cold wall of the cave with my hand and follow it along, stumbling sometimes and hitting my head at others. If I make it out of here, I’ll have some lovely bruises to show for it. Did they make it out? Was Angus wounded—or worse? There are still so many things I have to say. I can’t just tell him how I feel. I have to tell him the truth, the whole story. He deserves to know. He thinks he loves me, but he doesn’t know me, the real me.
That decided, all I need to do now is not get killed. Sure. No problem.
A sound, not unlike a scurrying animal, pulls me from my thoughts, and I hasten my steps deeper into the cave. I’m so far now that I can’t imagine how I’ll get out. The path is getting narrow. I can reach out and touch both sides now, but unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, there is a sliver of light ahead. I have to turn sideways to get through, and although I never thought I was claustrophobic before, this is certainly putting me to the test. What if I get stuck?
Jagged, unforgiving rocks at my back dig into my shoulder blades and backside, and I bring my hands up as if I’d be able to push the earth like a superhero. Nose practically pressed up against the wall now, I try not to breathe as I continue to focus on the small sliver of light ahead. At least I can take comfort in the fact that none of the men can follow me where I am going. I’m not petite but I’m certainly smaller than they are. I sidestep my way through the darkness, and I’ve finally gotten to the point I’ve been dreading: the point where I can no longer move. All I can think, as I’m squeezed between the rocks is that I shouldn’t have had snuck those tarts from the kitchen.
I can’t go forward or back; that about sums up my situation. The irony is not lost on me. I feel the hot tears stream down my cool cheeks. I refuse to get stuck here. I can’t afford to lose it now. I take as deep a breath as the rocks will allow and slide sideways, my chest scraping against the wall. With one final push, I make my way past this narrow point. I have to keep traveling sideways for a while. There’s a noise up ahead like a dripping faucet.
The drip echoes faintly. Where there is water, there is life. I can’t go back where I came from. I can only move forward, toward life. In the womb of the earth, I feel comforted by the sounds of the water ahead. It’s a subtle beacon to follow, urging me on. It offers not relief but hope. I will be relieved once I’m through this narrow hall of hell.
The dripping becomes clearer, more distinct, and I can’t get there fast enough. Slipping through the narrow passage I can now walk straight on without turning sideways. The sound gets closer as the light gets brighter. Judging by the echoing, there must be a cavern ahead. I run carefully toward the light, and what I see is something truly astonishing. It feels prehistoric, as old as the earth itself. I’m standing on the edge of a great precipice. It’s a bottomless lake. Perhaps some ancient monster will come slithering out to greet me. Looking up, water trickles down the walls from some source above ground. There’s a hole like a natural skylight directly above the lake. The moon and stars shine down onto the water making it look infinite.
I pause and say a prayer. I’m thankful for being alive, for making it through the darkness. The moon is illuminating the way out. If I step carefully around the perimeter, I should be able to get out on the other side. I’m not sure where I’ll come out, but I welcome the fresh air and open sky. A wolf howls in the distance, and sheltered deep in the earth, I’m not as frightened as I would be if I was in the heart of the woods.
Keeping close to the wall of the cave and as far away from the edge as possible, I slowly make my way around the lake to the exit and freedom. I wonder how far I am from the castle and Angus, and my anxiety returns full force. Surely they got away safely. With all of the warriors assembled for the games, they certainly thwarted the Murrays’ attack.
Angus. I owe him a kiss. Bringing my fingers to my lips, I can still feel his hands on my wrists, his lips on my face. The cool night air raises gooseflesh on my arms and I shiver. The thought of walking out into the woods in the darkness with soldiers and wild animals slows my steps. Though I want to get back, perhaps I should spend the rest of the night in the cave. I’m sure I could get a few hours rest and start my journey back in the morning when the sun can light my way. Of course, if the soldiers are still searching for me, the darkness may be the better option.
I worked in the city and grew up in suburbia. I don’t have an outdoorsy bone in my body, yet here I stand, in a cave contemplating hiking through the woods at night. I wouldn’t even walk to the Starbucks down the street though the sidewalks were lighted and filled with people. My life has changed so much, so quickly. One day I’m an editor at a small publishing firm, and the next, I’m running for my life in the Scottish Highlands over three hundred years in the past.
I peek out of the cave into the darkness and a new fear takes hold. The sounds of owls hooting and rustling leaves roots me to my place. Maybe I’ll wait here tonight. The idea of meandering around unfamiliar woods in the daylight isn’t appealing, so I’m certainly not making this trek at night with the possibility of being ambushed by soldiers.
I’m hungry and tired and decide to take my chances with the cave. Looking around for a place to rest tonight, I wander in the shadows. The rock is cold and unforgiving but at least I’m sheltered from the night. Curling into a ball, my only defense from the chill of the night, I pray. Thoughts of my friends, my new family running for their lives flash through my head, and I only hope they were able to get to safety.
I don’t think of Angus, but feel him in my heart—my soul. He occupies my entire being. I can’t think of him being harmed. He would fight until there was no breath left in his lungs, I’m sure of it. Knowing he would never give up frightens me even more. Please let him live. I send a solemn prayer to the heavens and close my eyes.
Warmth caresses my cheek and I don’t want to stir. I want to believe it’s Angus, waking me with a lover’s sweetness. His gentle hand upon my face and his lips on mine would be a lovely way to greet the day. Opening my eyes breaks the spell, and I soon remember my harsh reality. The soldiers. The blood.
The cave looks different during the day. It’s still rather dim, but the sun shining in through the opening above provides warmth and some light. The water in the shallow pool is glistening, and the walls of the cave are illuminated in a soft, ethereal glow. It’s as if the space is alight with hundreds of candles casting their incandescence over it.
I’m not sure what type of rock the cave is made of, but there’s a slight sparkle to it, like being inside a disco ball. I sit up to stretch the stiffness from my bones, and I can hear my body protest. I pull all the pins from my hair and shake it out gently rubbing the pads of my fingers against my scalp to encourage circulation and to cast off the pain.
I look at the pile of pins in front of me and smile. Someday archeologists are going to find this cave and think that my hairpins are something special. I wonder what story they will concoct. They’ll never come close to the truth, which gives me pause. I’ve already decided I’m staying here. That decision was made unconsciously; yet, it feels right. There is no possible way I could return. My heart is here.
I stand and stretch my arms toward the warmth of the sun and walk to the shallow pool in the center of the cavern. Kneeling over the edge, I reach into the cold, clear water, to splash on my face and shudder. Though it’s icy against my skin, I splash more. It invigorates me and prepares me for my journey ahead. Using the hem of my dress to pat my face dry, I notice some of lace has frayed, and so I pull it off and use it to tie my hair back.
It’s there with my frozen fingers fumbling with my hair that I first notice the soft glinting in the water. There’s a small object in the shallow pool reflecting the light of the sun. I squint at it trying to bring it into focus. I don’t believe it. Among the rocks and debris, I spot the source of the sparkle. It’s small and round, flat like a button or a . . . coin. No, it can’t be. I balance on my knees at the edge of the pool and try to reach it but soon realize that it’s too far. Sitting back, I remove my slippers and place them at my side. Grabbing my skirt, I pull it up just enough so it doesn’t get wet, and I dip my big toe in the water. I already know how cold it is, but I’m still hesitant.
As my bare feet touch the cold, smooth rock of the pool, I don’t lose sight of the coin. There it is. My hem skims the water as I reach into the pool. I feel as if I’m in slow motion. As if I’m living in a dream. Holding the small coin up to the light, I rub my thumb over its familiar texture. Is this the same coin? No, it’s got a woman on one side, and a crown on the other. She reminds me of a muse from mythology.
Before I realize it, tears are streaming down my cheeks. It would be so easy. I could make another wish and go home. No soldiers. No bloodshed. No Angus.
I would face a thousand soldiers and stain the earth crimson with my blood if it meant a place in his arms. Clutching the coin in my fist, I vow then and there in the mystical pool that I will return to him.
I realize I have no plan, no weapons, and no army. But I do have an Ivy League education. That has to count for something.