"I wish some clean water or something to drink," she said, holding her head high. She would not be cowed by these criminals.
"Do you now, my queen?"
She turned her head toward Red Holme's grumpy voice, the sound of it sickening her. Her whole body tensed. She remembered what he looked like—a tall, hulking man with shaggy red hair and a beard to match.
"Can you now see?" he demanded.
She frowned. "Nay."
"Then why are you looking at me with those eerie blue eyes?"
What in blazes was he talking about? Did she appear to be staring at him? A bitter laugh almost burst from her mouth, but she prevented it. Instead, she listened, hearing him move aside and turning her eyes toward the sound. Everyone said that her eyes appeared fine and healthy. The physician had told her whatever had caused her blindness, it was deeper inside her head and caused from the blow to her brain.
"What's wrong with you?" Blackburn asked nearby.
"She can see!" Red Holme declared as if spooked. "Look at her!"
"Are you mad? She's as blind as a damnable bat."
Her stomach turned at Blackburn's snide tone. Something small bounced off Kristina's shoulder, startling her. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "Throwing rocks at the blind girl? How heroic you are."
"Shut your mouth!" Blackburn ordered. "Your sharp tongue is why you're blind now and why your face is so hideously ugly with that scar."
Kristina ground her teeth. Bastard. She'd like to take her knife and slice his face as he had done to her. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let the blackguards see them.
Red Holme chuckled as he walked away, the grass rustling beneath his boots. She wished she could accurately throw a dirk at each of them.
She pulled the cowl over her head, hiding her face. Indeed, she felt hideously ugly, as he'd said. She traced a finger over the deep, puckered scar that ran down the length of her cheek, now wet with tears. No man would ever find her attractive—she knew that. Nor would any man want a blind wife who couldn't take care of a household or children. She had no illusions about marrying.
Don't think of it, she told herself. She simply needed to survive this journey and try to protect Anna as best she could.
Boots stamping through damp dead grass approached, and she tensed.
"Here you go, m'lady," Ralston said.
She wiped her tears away, hoping he didn't see. "What is it?"
"Water." He took her hand and placed it around a cold, wet metal cup.
"Is it clean?" Everyone knew disease came from dirty water.
"Aye, I drank some myself. I got it from a small stream flowing down from the hill."
"I thank you." She sniffed it, detecting no rank odors. A small taste told her it was fresh enough. After drinking all she wanted, she handed the cup back to Ralston. "Is my sister all right?" she whispered.
"Aye, far as I know." He kept his voice low.
"Have you seen her?"
"Nay." His brief answers did not satisfy her curiosity.
"Where is she? Where are we going?" Kristina asked.
"Northwest and into the Highlands."
"How far?"
"Through Lochaber and to the west coast."
Saints, how had Anna gotten so far away… and been discovered anyway?
As Ralston's footsteps retreated, she listened to the other men, trying to find out more, but they were too distant or talking so low she couldn't make out their words. If not for her blindness, she might spy an escape route, but her affliction imprisoned her as much as Blackburn did.
"Mount up!" the knave yelled, his voice echoing. "We must ride many miles this day."
