“I will miss you.” Tears brimmed in Orle’s eyes.
“And I, you.” A fierce hug. Only one, did Darlei allow herself. She could not imagine what lay ahead of her. Neither could she imagine a life wed to a western chief.
“You must be completely silent in this,” she told her friend. “Father will question you, and most determinedly. Tell him only that I slipped away without your knowledge and you cannot guess where or when.”
“Will he believe me?”
“Tell him you were sleeping when I left.”
Orle wailed, “I can scarce bear not knowing whence you are bound.” Agony filled her eyes.
“That is for the best, as I tell you. Father cannot get from you knowledge you do not hold.”
Orle clutched at Darlei with tense hands. “Are you certain it would not be better just to go ahead with this marriage?”
“I am certain. Now lie down. Cover your head so you will not see me go.”
The girl obeyed. Darlei shouldered her bow, picked up her pack, and slipped from the tent in utter silence.
Night met her, more deeply dark than even she expected. Cool air whispered against her cheek.
The air was rumbly, as if the gods quarreled at a distance. It might be well if the rain found her, making it hard for Father’s men to follow. As it was, she could hear voices, deep male voices. As she predicted, the guards talked with one another.
The most difficult part of this endeavor would be getting her pony, Bradh, away with her, him being tied to a string line along with the others.
Silent as a shadow still, she moved to the rear of the camping place where the animals had been pegged. One good thing—the guards would not be on high alert for harm befalling them, so near yet to home.
The ponies seemed restless—no doubt due to that distant thunder—and several balked when she approached them. She shushed them between her teeth and stroked their manes and flanks.
“Quiet now.”
Bradh snorted at her even as she slid her knife from the loop at her belt. She cut his line and, leading him on foot, started away.
The dark would hamper as well as shield her. Ordinarily, no one could catch her once she was up on the pony’s back. But despite the way her heart pounded, this must be about stealth rather than speed.
If she could hear the guards’ voices, they would be able to hear her movements.
In the distance away to the west, the storm growled more loudly. Bradh danced unhappily and she soothed him again.
“Come on.”
She hoped Orle would not receive any punishment as a result of her actions. Father would be very angry. Would he believe Orle’s claims of ignorance?
Darlei had studied the terrain well before nightfall. The clearing among the trees where they had paused lay at the edge of thicker trees beyond. Her vision adjusted slowly to the deeper dark as she picked her way. Slowly, slowly, in defiance of her urgency.
The air grumbled around her as the storm moved in. It might be as well if the rain found her and offered them further cover.
Ears stretched for any outcry behind, she led the pony onward. If this endeavor were blessed, she would not be discovered missing till early morning, by when she would be far distant.
Would the gods bless her escape? Why would they wish to see her chained and confined in marriage to a man she could not love?
Rohr MacMurtray, he was called.
How did she know she could not love him, never having set eyes on him? He was a Gael, for one thing. She spoke his language only in the simplest form. Besides…
Besides, she did not know herself capable of that kind of love. Oh, she loved, to be sure. She loved Orle and her mother, back home, and Bradh, and even her father, in her way.
But to surrender her will and a large portion of her independence to a man, at cost to her heart? Nay, and nay.
