Walter turned his attention back to Arianna. “Ye speak as though yer Laird is some unstoppable warlord.”
Arianna gave a faint, knowing smile. “Ye’ll see soon enough.”
Several of the raiders muttered under their breath. One spat into the fire. “I still say we ransom her.”
“Nay,” another insisted. “The trap will bring more gold than any ransom.”
The argument grew louder as they began debating among themselves. Arianna remained silent, though inside her mind raced with calculation.
Good. Argue.
The longer they wasted time, the greater the chance Ian might find her. She watched the men carefully as they bickered, memorizing their faces and their movements.
Walter eventually slammed his hand against a wooden crate. “Enough!” he snapped.
The men fell silent.
“We keep her here for now,” he decided. “If the McGuire men come searching, we’ll decide then whether she’s worth ransom or blood.”
The raiders grumbled but obeyed. As the night deepened, they began drinking heavily around the fire while Arianna sat bound and silent nearby.
Arianna drew a slow breath and stared into the flickering flames. Despite everything, a strange calm settled over her heart.
Ian will come.
She had seen the fire in his eyes too many times to doubt it. The thought surprised her. So much anger had stood between them these past days, so many harsh words and bitter doubts. Yet here in the darkness, facing real danger, the truth revealed itself clearly. Despite everything… she trusted him.
I trust him with me life.
The realization struck her like a sudden bolt of lightning. Her fingers curled slightly against the rope around her wrists.
Ian…
For the first time since her capture, hope burned bright within her chest.
The fire in the raider camp had burned low, its embers glowing red beneath a thin veil of drifting smoke. Arianna sat against the rough log where they had bound her, her head bowed slightly as if she had long since surrendered to exhaustion. The guard assigned to watch her slumped nearby, a half-empty flask dangling loosely from his fingers. His breathing had grown heavy and uneven as drink and fatigue dragged him toward sleep.
Arianna watched him carefully through lowered lashes.
The rope around her wrists had been tied tightly hours before, yet little by little she had worked the knot loose against the rough edge of the log. Each subtle movement had been slow and patient, hidden beneath the quiet stillness of the night. Now the fibers had loosened just enough, and she slid one wrist free.
Her pulse quickened. Carefully, silently, she slipped the rope from her hands.
The guard snorted softly and shifted where he sat, but he did not wake. Arianna remained perfectly still for several heartbeats, listening to the soft crackle of the fire and the distant murmurof raiders speaking among themselves. When no one stirred, she slowly leaned forward and eased onto her hands and knees.
The camp lay scattered around her in shadows and dim firelight. Several men were still drinking while others had stretched themselves out to sleep. A few tethered horses, including her own, stood near the edge of the clearing where the trees thickened again. Arianna fixed her gaze upon them.
That is my path.
Slowly, carefully, she began to crawl. Every movement felt painfully loud to her ears as dry leaves crunched faintly beneath her palms. She kept low to the ground, inching across the clearing while her heart hammered wildly inside her chest. The men nearby laughed loudly at some crude jest, masking the faint sounds of her escape.
She reached the shadow of a nearby tree and paused to catch her breath. The horses were only a short distance away now. Arianna rose slightly and crept forward again, her cloak brushing softly against the grass. Her horse shifted and snorted quietly as she approached. She reached for its reins, whispering softly to calm the animal.
“Easy now… hush, lass.”
The horse lowered its head slightly. Relief flickered through her chest.
Just as her fingers closed firmly around the reins, a voice barked sharply behind her.
