"You will find out soon enough. Keep quiet or you'll find yourself gagged." Lifting her, he placed her astride the horse. After she shoved her skirts out of the way, she grabbed hold of the saddle and placed her feet in the stirrups.
"She cannot keep up with our fast pace," Red Holme grumbled.
"Aye, she will. Hold her bridle and keep her beside you, Ralston. I want her alive until we reach our destination."
What did he mean? What was their destination and what would he do to her there?
Within moments, the horses started walking forward, then trotting at a brisk pace. The cold wind stung her cheeks, blowing her cowl off and her hair back. Holding onto the saddle and using her legs to grip the horse, she worked hard to keep her balance, leaning slightly forward over the horse's neck.
She wondered about the man Blackburn had put in charge of guiding her horse.
"Ralston?" she said, loud enough to be heard over the hooves pounding the muddy road.
"Aye." He sounded younger than the other two men, 'haps in his early twenties.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll have to ask the chief."
Chief, hah! Blackburn had stolen the position when he'd murdered his own cousin, John MacCromar.
"How many soldiers did he bring?" she asked.
"Four dozen."
Why on earth would he need that many men simply to capture her? He obviously had other plans in mind, perhaps some sort of attack.
"Any other women in the party?"
"Nay."
Saints. She refused to think about how vulnerable she was.
As they rode, she tried to figure out the situation. None of the men were talking because of the fast pace. 'Twas clear Blackburn knew where Anna was, but mayhap she wasn't so easy to get to.
Likely, Blackburn planned to use Kristina to lure or force Anna out from her hiding place. That had to be it. Why else would he abduct her in the middle of the night and then ride like the devil? He wanted to use her as leverage. If that were the case, she had to escape and hide. But how? She could see naught, not even a faint hint of light at midday.
She had no inkling what time of night or morning it was, but they rode for about an hour.
"Halt!" Blackburn called out from somewhere up ahead. All the hoofbeats slowed, then drew to a stop. Leather creaked as the men dismounted. A flowing stream splashed nearby. The air smelled fresh and damp, like black dirt in a garden.
Though stiff and sore from sitting in the saddle so long, she dismounted without help. It had been over two years since she'd ridden much, and her muscles had weakened.
Footsteps thumped and swished toward her through damp grasses. "I was going to help you dismount, m'lady," Ralston said.
"I'm fully capable of doing so myself. Is there a place I might… have some privacy?" Her face burned with the awkwardness of the situation. She prayed the men would actually give her some privacy and show her respect.
"Aye, there are some bushes just over here." Ralston took her arm and gently but firmly guided her over the uneven ground. After her feet got tangled in the tall dead grass, he steadied her, then she took higher steps.
After they stopped, she listened, not hearing anyone close by. "Is this private and away from the men?"
"Aye. I will stand guard with my back toward you."
"I thank you." She didn't know if she could trust him, but what choice did she have? "Is it daylight yet?"
"A hint of dawn is just at the horizon."
After she'd relieved herself, Ralston led her from the bushes and toward the talking men again.
