Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
A s Jamie and his men charged forward, another group joined them, these dressed in a different tartan than the one the Donald men wore and Annabelle frowned, wondering who these others were. Next to her Maeve gasped.
“What is it?” Annabelle asked, thinking she’d missed something.
The noise level rose as swords clashed, and shields bore the brunt of mighty blows. Some of the men grappled in fierce wrestling matches as the ladies watched from their wooden prison.
“Tis the Campbells, some of the Laird’s best men,” Maeve replied, suddenly breathless.
“The Campbells? How did they get here?” Annabelle wondered out loud, but as she watched it seemed they had joined the Donalds in this fight and weren’t fighting against them, which she took as a good sign.
Annabelle, her heart pounding with determination, decided she needed to free herself and Maeve from their cage. Her gaze fell upon a decorative pin adorning Maeve's hair, a glinting treasure she was shocked the bandits had allowed Maeve to keep. She swiftly demanded, "Maeve give me your hairpin, I may be able to pick the lock with it."
Without hesitation, Maeve pulled the pin from her hair and handed it over. The pin was ornate in design and Annabelle hoped that by using it to pick the lock, it wouldn’t be ruined. Her fingers trembling with urgency, she set to work on the cage's lock. It was a tense moment, as the clashing of swords and the shouts of battle served as the backdrop to their desperate escape.
Annabelle fiddled with the lock, but it wouldn’t click. The pin kept slipping. She looked up, wanting to make sure Malcolm and Gwilym were occupied but the only one she could see was Gwilym. Malcolm had disappeared. She swept her gaze over the camp, searching for him, but there was no sign of him.
In that moment, Annabelle noticed Jamie in the heart of the swirling maelstrom of battle, fought his way with unmatched ferocity. Two adversaries fell before his might as he pushed forward, working his way toward her and Maeve. Annabelle wanted to call out to him, but knew she shouldn’t distract him. He’d get to them soon enough and in the meantime, she still had a lock to deal with.
As Jamie's broadsword cleaved through the air and met its mark, he finally reached the cart where Annabelle was held captive with Maeve. “Lass, are you all right? Have they hurt you? Either of you?”
“I’m fine, Jamie, we both are, and I am so happy to see you. How on earth did you find us? Malcolm found the cloth I tied to the trees, so there was no trail for you to follow.” Annabelle reached for him through the bars of her cage.
“I’m so sorry, lass, I should have made sure you were better protected. I vowed to keep you safe and instead put you in harm’s way.” Jamie looked miserable.
“You did no such thing. I put myself in harm’s way by joining you on this mission and I’d do it again. I am fine, albeit stuck in this cage with a lock I can’t pick. I think Maeve’s hair pin is too short or not thick enough for this lock.” She sighed as she rattled the lock.
Jamie smiled. “Move back, lass, you and Maeve get as far back as you can an’ I’ll break the lock.”
They did as he asked, and he slammed his broadsword down on the lock. The metal fell to the ground, and he swung the door to the cage open, then helped them to the ground. Annabelle threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
The battle between the rest of the bandits, Jamie’s men and the Campbells continued, and Annabelle looked at him. “How did you find us and how did the Campbells get here too?”
Jamie smirked. “Malcolm isnae as clever as he thinks. We were already on the trail when he took those cloth ties of yours. We followed him when he returned and continued to follow him while I sent Eamon back to Fort Donald to speak with the Campbells. I told them we’d found Maeve and if they wouldnae let the Donalds come to her rescue, then they needed to do it themselves.”
Annabelle, in awe of Jamie's quick thinking and unyielding bravery, said, “That was brilliant. I mean I was worried when Malcolm brought those ties back, but I never doubted you’d find us and rescue us.” Annabelle pushed up on her toes and kissed him.
When Jamie released her a few seconds later, she nearly fell to the ground, a pile of mush at the feelings that were washing over her. The entire last two weeks came crashing in on her from the murder scene, to the search, to the time spent with Jamie falling in love, and then her kidnapping, it was a bit overwhelming. She needed a minute to get her bearings now that she had been rescued. “I think I need to sit down a minute.”
Jamie led her over to the front of the cart and lifted up to the seat. Annabelle smiled at him and then a movement a few paces behind him caught her eye.
A fierce adversary was charging at Jamie, his weapon raised high with deadly intent. "Jamie!" Annabelle cried as she pointed behind him.
With sinew and courage, Jamie spun and met the onslaught head-on, the clash of steel against steel ringing out like a thunderclap. The impact reverberated through his strong arms as he fought to hold his ground, the grit and determination etched upon his face was a sight to behold.
Annabelle's voice pierced the chaos, her cries filled with worry and fear as she watched Jamie's valiant struggle. She jumped down, looking for a way to help. A way to swing the battle in Jamie’s favor. She found it in a thick tree branch that had been set in a pile near the fire pit. Picking it up, she swung it like a baseball bat at his foe’s head causing him to stumble and fall to his knees. Jamie took that opportunity to run his blade through the man’s chest and he fell to the ground, dead.
Breathing heavily, Jamie put his foot on the man’s chest and pulled his sword free. He turned back to Annabelle and reached for her. “Are you all right, lass?”
Annabelle nodded and moved into his arms. “I think so, yeah, are you?”
“He didnae harm me,” Jamie answered.
As the dust settled and the battlefield began to calm, Jamie and Annabelle surveyed the aftermath. The bandits, once a fearsome force, now lay wounded and vanquished, their reign of terror brought to a swift end. Those that still lived were bound with thick ropes and seated on the ground awaiting their fate.
Annabelle scanned the clearing for any sign of Malcolm MacDonald, but he wasn’t among the dead or the captured. She sighed. “It looks like Malcolm got away while everyone was engaged in battle.”
Jamie ran his gaze over the same path Annabelle had just taken. “You seem to be right, lass,” he said, clearly frustrated at that turn of events. “We might have won this battle, but he’ll still be bringing us war.”
Annabelle nodded, her eyes on Jamie. "We'll find him, Jamie," she replied with unwavering determination. "We'll find him, and we’ll stop him. We’ve come this far, and we won't stop until he's paid for what he’s done."