Chapter 9
Islay and Kirsten had spent some time together talking about Islay’s ordeal.
She found it difficult to talk about and skirted around some of the more harrowing details, but she was grateful that she could speak about it with her friend, and that she had someone to confide to.
When Islay got to the part where Callum had rescued her, Kirsten grew excited and seemed to be intrigued by the way Callum had handled himself.
She almost swooned at the description Islay gave, and Islay had to laugh at her reaction.
It reminded her of how Cinaed had spoken about Callum a long time ago.
“I dinnae know how ye can speak about him and nae feel like fainting. There must be something wrong with ye!” Kirsten said.
She meant it as a joke, but Islay started to wonder if there was something wrong with her.
There were a lot of women she encountered whose ambitions in life seemed to revolve around getting married and having a family, as well as being enamored with men.
Things like that had never interested Islay too much, though.
However, she couldn’t deny the feeling deep inside her that bloomed like a spring flower when she thought of how Callum had fought to save her.
There was something about the way he carried himself that was pleasing as well as the way he walked and spoke and smiled and, well, everything.
Islay shook the thoughts from her mind, telling herself that she was still shaken from the ordeal she had suffered.
Kirsten left her to rest. Islay enjoyed the feeling of the comfortable bed, appreciating it more than she ever had after spending brief moments on the hard and lumpy ground.
When she closed her eyes and let the darkness swallow her, fear rose within, and there were moments when she was convinced that people were creeping up on her, ready to strike with a knife and take her away again.
Whenever this happened, she twisted over suddenly, hoping to take them by surprise before she realized they were a product of her mind.
She clutched the bedsheets and buried her head into the pillow, forcing the thoughts out of her mind, telling herself that they weren’t real.
But the image of a silver blade and yellow teeth kept swirling around her mind.
The only thing that dispelled them was, surprisingly, thoughts of Callum.
She ended up falling to sleep thinking of him, and her slumber was restful.
In the morning, when Islay went down for breakfast, she found there was a letter waiting for her. It was from Callum, inviting her to dinner at his castle.
“It seems as though he wishes tae become better acquainted with ye before the wedding. I suggest ye take him up on his offer,” Laird Gallach said, and by the tone of his voice, Islay knew that it was more than a mere suggestion.
“I will dae as ye ask, Da, but I wilnae stay the night. I’ll make sure tae return here,” she said.
“Aye, and ye will take a group of guards with ye. I dinnae want ye riding by yerself.”
“Is that because there are bandits out in the woods, or because ye are afraid I’ll run off?” Islay asked. Her father’s expression was inscrutable. “Da, ye need tae trust me. I hae given ye my word that I wilnae leave.”
“Aye, but the fact remains that we live in troubled times. I dinnae think it is a good idea for ye tae make the journey yerself, even though it is a short one.”
Islay pouted, not liking the idea of being escorted to Callum’s keep by an entourage of armed guards. It felt as though she was being treated as a child, and she hated the thought that her father would not trust her.
She went about her morning routine as usual, trying to get back to normal after what she had been through.
There were whispers around her whenever she passed, but nobody came up to her and asked about her ordeal.
Given how swiftly word swept around the castle, she wasn’t surprised if all the details had been told, and no doubt people would have thought how lucky she was to have a man like Callum coming to her rescue.
Ah yes, the gallant hero. And yet, it remained to be seen whether he would make a good husband.
Laird Gallach had told Islay to meet the guards during late afternoon so she could make it to Callum’s keep with plenty of time to have a nice meal and then make it back home before it was too late.
She was supposed to wear something pretty and feminine, but Islay was forming a scheme in her mind.
Everyone wanted this wedding, and there was no choice in the matter for her, but what if Callum called it off?
He was likely expecting a certain type of woman, and perhaps his reason for wanting to spend time with her was to see if she was suitable.
If she could convince him to call off the wedding, then she would be free to live an independent life while another wife would be found for him.
Kirsten would jump at the chance to have such security.
Islay thought about wearing some common clothes and acting as she always did.
People always said that she was stubborn and willful.
She might be able to get out of this wedding by virtue of being herself!
She smirked at her idea; it seemed so simple and yet so sly.
She was determined to go of her own accord rather than at the whims of her father.
So, when the afternoon was still early, she went to the stables and prepared her black mare, Cloud, to ride.
She galloped away from the stable as fast as she could, her hair whipping around her face as she thundered away from Kilin towards the home of her betrothed.
While she was riding, Islay smiled. No doubt her father would be afraid that she had fled again, but she would prove that he could trust her by returning. There was no sense in running. She had learned a harsh lesson that way, but there was nothing to say that she still couldn’t influence matters.
The road was winding and framed by trees.
The mountains rose in the distance, and there were open fields to her left.
When she turned to the side, she could see people working in the fields.
She tried not to look at the woods because she was plagued by fear about what had come before.
The afternoon was grim and dreary, the light having faded dramatically from the morning.
Grey clouds hung on the horizon ominously, growing darker as each minute passed.
The woods were filled with shadows again, and although it was daytime, Islay felt a shudder of anxiety pass through her as she thought about what she had endured.
Although at the time she had been relieved that Callum hadn’t executed the bandits, now she wondered if that had been the right decision at all.
It meant they were still out there. Not only could they hurt her again, but they might hurt someone else, someone who didn’t have Callum to rely on.
She wondered how many people had died at the hands of bandits, and for what—because of gold?
Because the bandits had nothing better to do?
She shook her head at the state of the world and wondered how it had gotten to this point.
She was glad that Cloud was fast. At least she could outrun any bandit who tried to attack her while she was on her horse.
Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, and they didn’t seem to be ready to dissipate anytime soon.
They blanketed the sky in an endless sea of grey, with darker flecks peppered about.
It was a sign that a storm was coming. Islay lamented the fact that she might have to stay overnight at Callum’s castle after all.
She would have to send word to her father so that he wouldn’t worry, and she sighed because she should have just waited for the guards; it would have been easier.
She had to question why she kept getting herself into trouble.
She rubbed Cloud’s neck and leaned forward, urging the mare to go faster in the hopes of reaching Callum’s home before the storm was unleashed from the sky.
The mountains in the distance rose higher and higher as she closed the distance between her and the castle.
She remembered making this trip when she was younger.
Back then, it had seemed to take an age, but now she was here almost before she knew it.
She reached the crossroads and was about to veer off automatically to the right, which would take her up to Connall land, when she saw an unoccupied carriage.
Cloud slowed to a canter, and Islay straightened up, peering around just in case anyone was lying in wait.
She glanced towards the forest and swore she saw movement flickering in the woods.
But when she looked again, nothing was there.
Because of the bandit activity, Islay was cautious.
This could be a trap set to trap kindhearted folk who sought to help the people here, or it could have been the remnants of a bandit attack.
There were no arrows shot her way, though, nor were there people rushing out to attack her.
She breathed a little more easily, although once again, she lamented her eagerness as having guards around would make this a lot more secure.
But someone could be hurt, and she wasn’t about to let them suffer.
She alighted from Cloud and crept towards the carriage. As she approached, she saw movement inside.
“I’m nae here tae hurt ye!” Islay said. “Are ye well? Are ye in danger?”
She grew closer to the carriage, although she was hesitant to get right up close just in case someone was lying in wait to hurt her.
She wanted to give the person inside a chance to open the door first. If they didn’t respond, then they might well be injured, and she would investigate further.
From a cursory glance at the carriage, it didn’t seem to have been attacked by bandits.
There were no stray arrows, and no pockmarks.
A horse as grey as the sky overhead was tethered to the carriage, although it looked unperturbed.
It whinnied and shook its head, its glossy mane shimmering.
Then, the door to the carriage was flung open, and Islay had a glimpse of the person inside. It was a familiar face—Cinaed.