"Please, promise me you'll be careful." She could not even look him in the eye when she said it. Where would she be without him? Captured and on her way back to Blackburn. Beaten, battered and raped. She could not survive now without Neacal.
With his hand, he tilted her face, forcing her to look at him. And she did, with pleasure. But when she gazed into his fierce blue eyes, she felt as if tethering hooks shot into her heart and dragged it out toward him. Saints, how she was falling for this man.
"Don't worry over me, sweet Anna." He kissed her forehead, turned and left the cottage.
Oh good Lord. Tears sprang to her eyes and she discovered her knees were weak. She propped against the wall and watched him stride toward where the dog sat near the horse. He gave Dunn a command and pointed at the cottage. The dog ran toward her, joining her inside. She stroked his bristly fur.
Neacal took his bow and arrows from the saddle, then led the horse into the byre, several yards distant. As he bypassed the shieling door, he paused. "I'll try to find some sort of game for a stew. Bar the door. I'll be back soon."
Anna's throat was so tight, she couldn't utter a word. She simply nodded and watched him walk away.
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes.Dear God, protect him.
Dunn whined and moved about restlessly. She closed the door and barred it, as Neacal had instructed. She prayed he would return soon, but what on earth would she do if he didn't?
***
On foot, Neacal followed the rocky trail down the side of the mountain. It was wide enough for a horse to walk comfortably, but one false move and a person or animal would tumble several hundred feet to their death in the stream below.
He searched for stray tracks they'd left before, but found few. The grass and heather grew thick in the dirt. When he found tracks that he, his horse or Dunn had made, he smoothed them out with a slick stone. He also had to be sure to hide any stray broken stems. He saw a few deer tracks, and hopefully any disturbed dirt or foliage would be attributed to them.
At the base of the mountain, Neacal startled two young red stags. He was not surprised to see them for 'twas time for the autumn rut in the glens. The deer bolted, charging east across the moor.
As he was scanning the ground for the tracks he wished to erase, the sound of hoof beats reached his ears. Was it a herd of deer or the garrison? Taking out his sword, he slipped behind a thick stand of prickly gorse bushes and crouched.
The thundering grew louder and he quickly realized 'twas indeed several horses.
"Whoa!" The front rider held up his arm, drew to a halt and dropped to the ground. He scanned the muddy area. Neacal had not had time to blot out all of his party's tracks. He prayed the men couldn't tell which direction they'd gone.
Peeking through the branches, he counted fifteen men. Where had the other half of the garrison gone? They must have split up to search. Regardless, he was greatly outnumbered. His heart thumped loudly in his ears for he could be discovered at any moment.
