Chapter 4 #4
But these inconvenient facts bounced off the shell of her panic, leaving not a mark. She had to get home. She had to find the doorway. They were the only thoughts her panic would allow.
Picking a direction at random, she started walking.
The ground was uneven and tussocky beneath her feet and she was soon glad of her stout, twenty-first century boots.
Heather brushed against her skirts and the wind tugged strands of hair loose around her face, but she did her best to ignore such distractions, keeping her mind focussed on her goal.
Get home, her thoughts drummed to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Get home.
But as the minutes slowly dragged by, turning into an hour and then more, doubt began to creep in, despite her attempts to keep it at bay.
Every hill looked identical. Every valley looked the same.
She could be walking in circles and never know it.
What the hell had she been thinking coming out here alone?
Suddenly she heard a noise drifting faintly on the wind. Elodie stopped, frowning. The noise had sounded like a child crying. It came again. Yes, definitely a child, and it was coming from up ahead.
She started walking again, rounded a bend in the path and stopped in surprise.
A family sat huddled beside the track. The woman cradled a baby wrapped in a blanket that looked far too thin for this cold wind.
Beside her sat a little girl of perhaps seven or eight, tears streaking her dirty face. A man stood over them all protectively.
“I’m cold!” the little girl sobbed.
The woman pulled her closer. “Hush now, Morag.”
“We’re going to die out here.”
“We are not.”
“Ye said we’d find the Steading yesterday.” The child’s voice cracked. “We’ve been walking forever!”
The woman shared an agonized glance with the man who lifted his head to look over the woman’s shoulder.
Following the line of his gaze, Elodie saw that more people were coming down the track, dozens of them.
Elodie saw men, women, children, the elderly, some carrying bundles and all wearing the same exhausted expression.
Elodie stared. Good God. What had happened to these people?
The little girl suddenly glanced up and spotted her. She gasped and the father’s gaze snapped to Elodie. He straightened, suspicion and wariness flashing across his face.
“Who are ye?” he called.
Elodie took an involuntary step back. “I’m just a traveler. Passing through.”
“Are ye alone?”
“Yes.”
The man sagged, as though too weary to put up a fight anymore. The line of people had now caught up with the family and had all stopped, eyeing Elodie as warily as the man had.
Her gaze flicked over them. “Who are you all?” she asked.
They exchanged glances. Finally, the mother answered. “We’re what’s left of the village of Kilbrannan. Our laird’s enemies came through and burned us out.”
She said it with no emotion at all, as though she was too tired even for anger.
Elodie felt her mouth drop open. “What? Somebody burned down your homes? Why?”
The woman shrugged as though it hardly mattered anymore. “Our laird supported the Articles of Union. What more reason do those that oppose them need?”
It was the second time she’d heard these Articles of Union mentioned in as many hours.
She looked along the line of refugees and every instinct she possessed began screaming at her.
These people needed food. Shelter. Safety.
The sensible part of her reminded her that she was supposed to be finding the arch and that finding her way home was her priority.
But she didn’t listen.
“Why have you come this way?” she asked.
“We’re looking for the Steading,” the woman answered. “We’ve heard it’s a safe haven for the likes of us.”
Of course. Elodie nearly laughed. She’d spent all evening trying to escape that place. Now she’d found people desperate to find it. But with night coming on, they were unlikely to find it now. Not unless she helped them.
“I know where it is,” she blurted. What are you doing? a voice said in the back of her head. You need to be on your way home! She ignored it. “I can take you there.”
Murmuring broke out amongst the group. They crowded close, eager expressions on their tired faces.
The little girl stared up at her. “Ye will? Did ye hear that, mama? We’re going to the Steading!”
The murmuring amongst the group intensified and relieved smiles appeared on a few faces. Several people looked close to tears.
“Come on,” Elodie said gently. “It’s not too far.” She hoped she wasn’t lying. She thought she could remember the way back but she’d been so preoccupied with escaping she couldn’t be totally sure.
The little girl scrambled up and slipped her hand into Elodie’s. The gesture was so trusting that it made Elodie’s chest ache.
“My name’s Morag,” she announced.
Elodie smiled. “I’m Elodie. It’s this way.”
As she turned around and began retracing her steps, the line of people trudging wearily at her back, Elodie felt a new sense of purpose spreading through her. Okay, so she might not have the first clue about this strange place in which she’d found herself. But these people needed her help.
And that, she could do.