Chapter 26 #3
"Halt!" The rough, male voice echoed.
"Go," she told the selkies. "Run!"
Silence and a cold wind followed her as she sprinted along the outside of the wall.
Where were the selkies? She paused and glanced back as they dashed down the hill toward the loch, throwing off their clothing along the way.
What on earth? Shocked, Elsea hid behind a leafless bush, waiting to see if they got away.
Ice glistening along the edge of the water, they waded in.
She shivered, hoping they knew what they were doing. The water was their natural home, after all.
The guard slid to a halt outside the wall and roared when the naked females escaped into the water.
Elsea drew back, hoping the bush would conceal her, but it was not evergreen.
He might see her through it. She froze, silent and still, hardly daring to breathe, praying he would go back inside.
Was her dark cloak enough to conceal her in the moonlight glinting off the snow?
He yelled curses. "The laird will have my head," he gritted between his teeth.
He glanced along the wall. His narrowed gaze catching on her, he stilled.
Her breath froze within her lungs.
Sword in hand, he stumbled forward over the rocks. Blast! She couldn't allow him to get too close. She shoved herself up to scurry away, but he caught the hem of her arisaid. Her heart rate sped along, and she inhaled in short gasps.
"Halt, wench, or I'll run you through!"
The tip of the sword pricked her back, and she fell over a rock.
"Who are you?" he demanded, dragging her toward him and forcing her to turn over onto her back. Looming over her, he dropped the sword and pulled out a sgian dubh. Twisting her cloak up in front, he held the small knife to her throat. "Push your hood back," he ordered.
"Very well," she said and knocked his sgian dubh away, then drove upward with her dirk into the soft flesh of his belly.
He screeched like an animal. Getting her feet under him, she kicked him off, and he tumbled down the embankment toward the loch.
He yelled the whole way down, surely alerting the other guards.
Heart hammering, she raced toward the wood and her horse. Saints! She had never stabbed a man before. Had never needed to. Would he die?
Her legs growing weak from fright, she sheathed the dirk and hoisted herself into the saddle.
More male shouts echoed from the castle.
Turning her horse around, she allowed Freya to trot through the wood a short distance, trying to stay quiet. She wanted to kick Freya into a gallop, but the loud hoofbeats would alert them to her location. The wind still gusted in fierce, uneven blasts, which would help cover the sounds.
She had to make haste! After a minute, she loosened the reins and raised herself from the saddle, which sent Freya into a gallop. Elsea's hood flew back in the icy wind.
Thank God she had been able to free the selkies. Now she had to rush home.
Moments later, horses' hooves pounded the frozen earth behind her.
"Saints," she hissed. Her heart rate matched the speed and rhythm of the hoofbeats. "Get on!" The command told Freya to gallop faster.
The fiends gained ground. She glanced back at their dark forms moving against the snowy backdrop. How many? Four.
Leaning forward, standing hunched in the stirrups, she withdrew her sword and urged Freya more swiftly.
One rider advanced to her right. When he was close enough, she struck out at him with the sword, slicing his arm.
He roared and dropped back.
Another rider approached on her left side, but not within reach. Blast it!
He snagged her cloak and yanked her backward. She screamed, letting go of the bridle so Freya wouldn't be injured.
Elsea struck out with the sword but only met thin air.
"Help!" she yelled, then screamed over and over, praying someone would hear her. But who? No one was out here.
The man slammed her across his lap, then snatched the sword from her hand.
"Bastard!" She drew a sgian dubh from her forearm sheath and stabbed it deep into his calf.
He roared, then flung her to the ground. She crashed onto her back, the forceful impact knocking the breath out of her. The pain and the cold crushed her. Breathe! She tried to move, to push herself up, but couldn't. Trying to force air into her lungs took all her effort.
Someone dropped to the ground beside her and dragged her up. She still held the sgian dubh, but he wrenched it from her hand, then called her a string of foul names and slapped her.
Her cheek stung. She clenched her teeth, refusing to pass out. She had to remain awake and fight her way free.
Two men roughly searched her for more weapons, grabbing her in vulgar ways.
"'Tis her! Laird Talnaroch's betrothed!" one man said.
"What the devil is she doing out here?"
"Help me throw her over the saddle. We'll lock her up until he returns."
Most of her strength gone, Elsea twisted, kicked and squirmed, but her movements were sluggish and weak.
She tried to scream for help but could not draw in enough air. The world faded to mist and darkness.