Chapter 5
It felt as though fate had slapped her in the face and punished her for being a na?ve, willful child who had no idea about the true dangers of the world.
As the bandits had dragged her through the forest, she had eventually passed out and fallen limp in their arms. Her dreams had been troubled.
She couldn’t remember any precise images, but she had vague feelings of threats and fear and grim portents.
The taste of dread was bitter in her mouth, and when she awoke with a start, she felt like vomiting.
She went to clutch her stomach, forgetting that her hands were still bound.
Her tongue rested against the soaked cloth they had used to gag her.
Errant strands of golden hair hung over fearful eyes, and her entire body trembled with thoughts of what they might do to her.
She looked up and saw them huddled together like rats admiring a piece of cheese.
There were four of them in total; Islay had expected more.
Each one of them looked meaner than the last. Presently, none of them were paying any attention to her.
She thought of sneaking away, but knew that any movement was likely to get their attention, and she would quickly feel the brunt of their anger.
She had no time to take in the beauty of the green grass or the bracken, or the majesty of the ancient trees that had witnessed more history than she would ever remember.
The only saving grace was that Kirsten had refused to come. At least she had been spared this fate.
It didn’t take long for Islay to realize that the men were poring over her pack. She groaned because that pack was filled with things for her survival, to help her make her way in the world.
“What a treasure she is! Ye really got lucky. The others are gaeing tae be pleased,” one of the bandits said.
They laughed as they fished through the bag, pulling out everything as though it was a toy for them to marvel at.
They stopped when they scooped up the pile of gold Islay had brought with her.
She closed her eyes, letting her head drop when they found it.
“My God…think of all the women this could buy. We could get a small keep for this much!” one of the bandits gasped.
They clinked the coins together and bit down on them, testing that the currency was genuine.
One of them curled his hand around a few coins and walked towards Islay.
He towered over her, and in the morning light, his ugliness was on full display.
His teeth were yellowed and one was missing. A scar tugged at his upper lip.
“Where the hell did a lass like ye get this kind of coin? Who are ye?” he asked. Islay shook her head and whimpered, silently pleading with him to let her go. He stepped closer to her and reached out to take her gag away, but before he did, one of the other bandits interrupted.
“I think I know where she got this gold from. Take a look at this!” Islay’s heart sank as she saw the cloth they were holding up. It was another shawl, this one clad with the banner of the Gallach clan, a symbol that was known well in the area.
“Aye, this is trouble,” the bandit holding the cloth said.
“Trouble? What dae ye mean?” the one with the cut ear said. “Surely, it only means there’s more gold where this comes from. We can ransom her and get even more. A laird can pay a lot. We’ll see how much her virtue is worth. I dinnae think it’s trouble—more like opportunity!”
The bandit nearest to her twisted his body to address the rest of the men.
“Are ye daft? A laird haes guards. He’s nae gaeing tae allow one of his own tae be ransomed when he could just attack and punish us all.
Let’s take the gold and whatever else ye can find.
It’s time for us tae be leaving. If she haes their clan colors, then she’s important, and they’ll be looking for her. We cannae let them find us.”
“Are we gaeing tae take her with us?”
The man with the straggly hair spoke again. This time, he looked directly at Islay; she felt herself wilting under the pressure of his gaze. “I dinnae think that’s a good idea. They’ll only keep coming for her. Having her puts a target on our backs.”
“Then what dae ye suggest?” the fourth bandit said. Up until this point, he had remained quiet. “Surely ye arenae thinking we should let her gae?”
“No.” The bandit in front of Islay drew his knife, the same one that had been held at her face already.
It still looked like a shard of the moon, silver and sharp.
The point gleamed as it caught the morning sun and flashed in her eyes.
She wondered if it would be the last thing she ever saw.
“We cannae afford tae leave her alive. She haes seen our faces. Better tae kill her and leave her here. We’ll leave her for them tae find, and hopefully, they’ll see it as enough of a warning tae stay away.
By the time they find her, we’ll be long gone anyway. ”
The strength vanished from Islay’s knees.
She shook her head and whimpered loudly.
Her words were muffled, but her meaning was plain.
The bandits didn’t care, though. They had decided on their course of action, and there was nothing but an act of fate that would prevent them from seeing it through.
They were as driven by a sense of self-preservation as much as Islay was—but where hers had led her to run away from home, theirs led them to kill.
Islay realized how foolish she had been, and how reckless she had been with her life.
She had fled home with the hope of experiencing as much as possible, but her experiences were cut short, and she wouldn’t get to see or feel nearly as much as she hoped.
All she had was the promise of death. A life cut short, before she had gotten to live at all, really.
Her last thoughts were of Iona, and how she hoped her younger sister would make a better job of being a dutiful daughter than she had.
“Wait a minute!” one of the other bandits said. “Ye cannae just make a decision like that without discussing it with the rest of us. She’s tae valuable tae kill. She’s no merchant; she’s worth a lot more. Find out who she is.”
The man with the straggly hair scowled, but ripped the gag away. Islay breathed deeply, gulping in air and feeling relieved at not having the gag biting at the corners of her mouth.
“Who are ye, lass?” the man thundered, catching her chin in one of his huge hands, squeezing her cheeks tightly.
The fear was palpable. She thought of lying to him but then saw the knife again.
At least if they knew she was valuable, they might give her some respite and keep her alive.
If they ransomed her, then there was a chance she could still make it home.
“I’m the laird’s daughter,” she spoke in a halting tone.
Her voice was more like a whisper as she continued to struggle against the pain and fear she experienced, as well as having her words forced out of her mouth by the man with the hand gripping her face.
His fingernails were chipped, and dirt hung underneath them.
Dark hairs spread across the back of his palm, like overgrown weeds.
“Oh, ye think this is a lot of gold? Wait until we ransom her. I’m sure the laird will spare no expense when it comes tae his wee lass. Take yer knife away. We cannae kill her. She’s tae valuable.”
“She’s tae much of a risk! Dinnae let yer greed get the better of ye. Ye hae heard the stories of people who hae let their ambitions get the better of them. If ye truly think we’re gaeing tae get out of this alive, ye are mistaken. We’re just goading him. Naething good is gaeing tae come of this.”
“We’re gaeing tae have sackfuls of gold and nary a worry that we’ll ever hae tae rob again.
This is the chance we’ve been waiting for!
I’m sick and tired of scraping by on meager coin from struggling merchants.
She is our way tae a better future. Dinnae kill her, or I’ll kill ye.
I’m nae gaeing tae let this opportunity pass. ”
The man in front of her growled, but he pulled his hand away and turned to face the other bandits, still wielding his knife.
“Ye are leading us tae our doom,” he said.
“If ye dinnae agree, ye are welcome tae leave. It just means there’s more gold for the rest of us,” the other bandit said with a cruel smile, and followed it with a raucous laugh.
The other two bandits joined in, seemingly on the side of the one who sought gold more than safety.
The man in front of Islay shook his head and muttered something under his breath before he walked back to his companions.
It seemed as though the lure of gold would overcome anything else, and Islay breathed a sigh of relief.
At least it meant they were unlikely to harm her.
“The only question now is how tae get the laird’s attention. Unless one of ye wants tae volunteer tae walk intae his keep and talk with him directly, we need tae think of a message tae send.”
“There’s only one message he’ll understand.
We hae tae send a piece of her tae him, and tell him what we want and when we want it.
” The man with the straggly hair said. He seemed the most dangerous of them all.
“We’ll start with a lock of hair, and if he doesnae respond in the way we want, then we’ll send him something else.
Maybe a finger. Or maybe a bit of her ear.
” He glanced at his wounded friend as he said this, and the man with the snipped ear grimaced.
Islay cringed. The man returned to her, his movements more fluid and purposeful this time.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and chopped off a few locks with his dagger.
Even though Islay didn’t feel pain at it being cut away, she still shuddered and howled as loudly as she could.
Fear burst inside her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the knife cut something that truly would hurt.
The man walked back and placed the strands of her hair on the table, looking triumphant.
“If ye want tae gae ahead with this, then I suggest we dae it properly. We’ll find someone and threaten them tae take the message tae the laird,” he said.
“I’ll take the message for ye, or ye can just tell me directly. I’m representing him,” another voice said, one that was familiar and yet seemed impossible.
Islay lifted her head and gasped when she saw Callum standing there, drawing his sword, looking like a hero from a legend.