The younger outlaw lifted her into the saddle, and the other tied her hands together.
"It's been a long time since I rode." As a child, she'd only ridden her cousin's pony a few times. She'd had little training or practice. The animal beneath her jerked his head and snorted. "What if I fall off?"
The kidnappers laughed. If she did fall and break her neck, that would keep them from having to kill her themselves. And avoid the hangman's noose.
A chill slid through her. What if that was their plan?
She didn't like pain, but she had to take drastic action. Before they could tie her hands to the saddle, she slid off the left side. One of the men caught her and tried to shove her back into place. She kicked and screamed. The horse bolted a few yards away, leaving her flailing half on the ground and half in the man's arms. At least he hadn't dropped her.
He muttered Gaelic words she couldn't understand.
She continued her struggle and high-pitched screams, hoping to scare the horses away and get someone's attention.
"Finch! Ewan!" she yelled, but they had to be too far away to hear.
"Gag her," Alpin ordered, striding forward with a strip of cloth.
Gavin sailed in from behind and dive-bombed him. Alpin stumbled and fell to his knees in the rocks. He shouted in Gaelic, leapt up, and slung his sword about like a fly-swatter, almost flaying one of his men in the process. Gavin flapped away then circled back toward the swine she fought with.
Her captor's eyes bugged out, then he ducked, using her as a shield. She hunched downward, trying to expose him. Big black wings brushed against her, but she couldn't see what transpired behind her.
Her captor squealed like a terrified toddler and released her. "Get it off me! Get it off me!"
Pushing to her feet, Dani darted away. She glanced back to see the damage. Gavin's talons sank into the man's bloody arm, and he pecked at his face. Going after his eyes? Ugh! Alpin ran into the fray with his sword.
"Gavin! Watch out!" she yelled.
He launched into the air just in time to avoid the tip of the weapon. She dashed back toward Caithmore Castle, looming in the distance, the tall towers easy to see. Her hands tied in front of her, she lifted her skirt-tails off her boots, but she still couldn't run as fast as she wanted over the rough terrain.
"Come back, wench! Catch her!" Alpin ordered. The tall, skinny goon and another one chased after her.
"Dammit!" Her feet wouldn't move fast enough. Unable to see the jagged stones beneath the scrubby plants and heather, she stumbled and fell, painfully bruising her knees. She screamed, struggling to get up again, but she couldn't gain her footing. Tears burned her eyes and dripped onto her cheeks.
The two men yanked her up by her arms, and pain shot through her shoulders.
"Ouch! You bastards! Gavin is so going to make you regret this. And I'll help him beat you guys into a pulp!"
"Hold your tongue, whore!" Alpin growled, limping closer.
"I'm not a whore! I'm Gavin's wife!"
Wow, why did it feel so good to say that? Did she like being his wife? Yes, and this knowledge gave her confidence. Although she hated classism and snobbery, she would use it to gain her freedom now if she could.
"I'm Lady MacTavish, you idiots. That means I'm part of the aristocracy now. And you're a couple of lowlife dimwits. Even you, Alpin. You're a greedy outlaw who is so jealous of Gavin you'd do anything to take away what he has. If you hurt me any worse than you already have, there'll be hell to pay! They put criminals to death in all kinds of torturous ways these days, don't they? Hanging, beheading, drawn, and quartered. That's gotta hurt."
"Cease your blathering!" Alpin roared.
"Yeah, I know you don't want to hear it, but it's time to face facts, boys," she went on, hoping she exhibited more bravery than she felt. "Your boss-lady is not going to protect you when the authorities come to claim your moldy, stinky hides and string them up from a tree. Your rotting corpses will be hanging off a bridge, and the crows will have a feast. It would be much better to release me now, let me go back home, and I won't turn you in."
"What say you, Master Alpin?" the lower ranking minion asked, his eyes wide.
"Are you an imbecile?" Alpin snapped. "Nay! Take her back to the horses, Harv."
"You are the imbecile, Alpin," she said.
"I said shut your gob." He slapped her cheek.
Her head jerked to the side, and a pain shot through her neck. "Ow! You son of a bitch!"
