Chapter Ten
Neacal peered out from between the bushes at Ranald Blackburn MacCromar's soldiers. Aye, they wore the same type of clothing and tartan as the men Neacal had fought with and killed earlier. Outnumbered as he was, fifteen to one, he'd best make sure he was not discovered. He might defeat three men at once, but fifteen made him far less confident when it came to hand-to-hand combat. If he were perched above them with his bow and arrows, however, he could pick them off one by one.
Were any of these men the one who claimed to be Anna's husband, or was he so wealthy he could simply send a garrison in his stead?
"You see there?" One of the men pointed at the ground. "A large dog track. They came through here."
The man who'd ridden in front, obviously their tracker, strode onto the moor. He crouched and examined the trampled grass. "They went this way!" He mounted again and the lot of them rode away, toward the east and across the moor, following what had to be the trodden grass trail the two stags had left behind.
Thank the saints!
After the sounds of hoof-beats vanished, Neacal emerged from the concealed spot, glanced around and listened. He heard naught but the screech of a hawk in the distance.
He checked for any stray tracks that led toward the mountain. Seeing none, he headed for the trail that led up to the cliffs from the back. The climb was steep and rocky and required the use of his hands at some spots, to drag himself up. After a hard pull, a pain shot through his shoulder and arm. Damnation, 'twas the old injury from when he'd been captured. He ground his teeth and, taking a deep breath of the cool, damp air, forced himself to ignore the pain.
At the top of the cliff, he looked east over the moor, but saw no people in the declining evening light. The wind picked up, shifting the bushes about. The leaden clouds drifted low, bringing an early gloaming. The rain would start soon, and if it was hard enough, it would wash away any remaining trace of their passage through the area and drive their pursuers indoors.
He watched for returning soldiers for a quarter hour. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed movement two hundred feet below… a large rabbit. If Dunn were here, he would catch it in less than a minute, but Neacal would use his bow. Because he'd brought only two dozen arrows for defense, he would have to be frugal with them and reuse them whenever possible. Slowly, he moved closer and maneuvered into position for a good shot.
After he slew the first rabbit, he noticed another a short distance away. Both kills were quick and easy. He, Anna, and Dunn would eat a good supper this eve.
He remembered Anna's anxious expression when he'd left her. He hoped she wasn't afraid, being in the shieling with only Dunn for protection. He couldn't imagine her too terrified since she'd struck out alone from the castle. She was obviously a brave lady… one that he admired greatly.
When the first tiny drops of rain hissed through the air, he glanced at the darkening sky. The clouds overhead grew thicker and more ominous. With each moment that passed, the cold rain fell harder, drenching his hair and clothing. It didn't bother him overmuch. He was used to being outdoors in the elements. After scanning the moor one last time and seeing no one, he made his way to the trail again. Careful to step on stones as often as possible, and not leave tracks in the mud, he strode up the mountain at a brisk pace.
Sometime later, he entered the clearing, the bitter but homey scent of peat smoke surprising him. Lady Anna had built a fire. Fortunately, the rain and heavy clouds would prevent the scent of the smoke from traveling far.
He knocked at the shieling door. "'Tis me. Neacal," he called out.
Dunn woofed excitedly while Anna opened the door. He relished her welcoming smile, feeling more at home here than he ever had at Bearach Castle. Jumping about playfully, Dunn greeted him with a wildly wagging tail. Neacal rubbed his shaggy head.
"Thank the saints, you're back," Anna whispered, widening the door for him to enter. "But you're drenched!"
"Aye." As he'd guessed, a low blaze burned in the fire-pit, lighting the room to a cozy glow, the heat from it feeling good on his cold, damp skin. Steam arose from the large black pot hanging over the flame. The cooking vegetables and herbs scented the air along with the smoke.
"You built a fire?" he asked.
She closed the door. "Nay, Dunn did it," she blurted with a straight face. Then, a wee impish grin peeked out. Of course, his question was ridiculous, and she wasn't shy about letting him know that. He shook his head, unable to squelch the faint smile.
"Dunn also dug the parsnips, turnips and onions, then cut them up," Anna went on, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.
Neacal snorted. "I didn't realize he was so skilled with a knife and flint. I thank you both." Smiling felt foreign to him. He'd forgotten his mouth could move in such a way, but it felt good. And for some reason, it made him want to kiss her. But, nay, he couldn't do that. "I wanted you to lock the door and stay inside."
"I know, but I couldn't. I was too anxious. I had to keep busy. When you didn't return before the rain started, I worried you'd run into trouble."
"No trouble, but I did see them."
"You did? Oh, good heavens." Her face blanched. "Do they ken where we are?"
"Nay, they rode toward the east, away from here."
"What if they return?"
"'Tis possible, but I believe the hard rain will drive them indoors at the first village they come to. 'Twill also wash away the remaining traces of our tracks."
"I do hope so." She bit a nail, making him want to drag her hand to his mouth, kiss it and try to calm her.
Needing to focus, he glanced away. He had considered readying for a trip back to Bearach as soon as the rain let up, but since only fifteen men had proceeded east, another almost two dozen were somewhere. Perhaps their leader had left a few men along the trail to catch Anna and Neacal if they passed that way again. He didn't want to tell her that and increase her anxiety even more. Nor did he wish her to know that the men would likely head to Bearach if they didn't locate them soon. He was certain Korbin had already told them that Neacal was the MacDonald chief, but his clan could handle Blackburn's men. Indeed, Korbin must've had something to do with the knaves showing up when they did. That was why he was acting strange, trying to get Neacal to leave Anna there so he could turn her over to them. There must have been reward money involved.
