Page 55 of Leila’s Legacy

She would be freed by Niall and together they would run to Werrick Castle. To safety. To her father’s side to ensure he was still safe. If he was still alive.

If she would even live. The memories of being pushed beneath the icy water threatened to consume her. Her heart crumpled at such thoughts and she tried to push them away, lest they debilitate her energy. She couldn’t think of failure, nor death. They would be successful in their attempt to escape and her return would find her father alive and well.

She stretched out her muscles and stared at the door, eager for freedom. Steps sounded on the stairs and she fell still. She pulled a dagger free and curled her palm around the hilt. With her weapons and old clothes, she was no longer a prisoner. She was powerful, capable. She was a warrior who would not be kept down.

The keys jangled in the door; the sound lovingly familiar. Regardless, she crouched low and prepared to strike.

Niall opened the door. His gaze went to her dagger, then up to her. He grinned, understanding the way any warrior would how it felt to be armed once more. He closed the door and strode to her.

She straightened at his approach. “Is it time?”

He nodded and drew her into his arms. Their mouths found one another in a quick but passionate kiss. “It is good to see ye as a warrior once again, mo chridhe.”

“It is good to be strong again.”

He stroked her lower lip with his thumb and gave her a searing look that told her he couldn’t wait to resume their kisses when they could let it lead to more. “Ye’ve always been strong. Now ye’re just armed.”

He grasped her hand and pulled her toward the door. Together, they crept down the winding stairs to the bottom.

Brodie nodded at them and closed his eyes, body tensing. This was the part of the plan Leila had dreaded the most. A muscle worked in Niall’s jaw as he drew back his fist and struck Brodie hard with his fist. The younger man staggered back against the wall and slid down.

Niall lunged toward him, caught the guard and slowly lowered him to the ground. Carefully, he dragged Brodie up the stairs and out of sight where he would remain until morning.

Loathsome though the task was, hitting Brodie to make him lose awareness was preferable to having to kill someone else. At least Brodie could make his injury last as long as need be. Another reiver who was not in on the escape would go to Lord Armstrong as soon as they roused.

Niall led Leila down the hall, their steps hurried yet silent on the floor. They passed no one as they made their way through the castle, nor even as they wound their way down a second flight of stairs. He stopped before an exceptionally large tapestry and reached behind it, drawing free a gambeson and helm. He’d told her he would try to get them without being seen and it appeared he had succeeded.

She slipped the gambeson on as footsteps sounded in the hallway, coming directly toward them. Niall plunked the helm on her head as her fingers frantically worked at the ties of her gambeson. The footsteps came closer.

Niall swept a hand over Leila’s shoulder and the weight of her hair fell behind her. She finished the final tie as a servant rounded the corner and passed them by without even a glance. The tension in her shoulder eased somewhat but did not fully abate. It would not, not until they were away from Liddesdale and riding back toward home. Until she was completely free.

Niall led her through an iron-bound door to the chilly, open night. The frigid wind stung her cheeks and tingled over her skin. Still, she paused for a brief moment and reveled in the crisp air in her lungs. Though it was bitterly cold, and the night black as ink, it was her first breath of such freshness in over a fortnight.

Niall strode on ahead of her and left her scrambling to catch up. She kept her pace even in the hopes she did not appear to be rushing. Already, it had been foolish to pause. She couldn’t do anything to arouse suspicion.

Niall led her through the bailey toward the portcullis.

“Halt.” A guard approached and stared at them in the darkness.

“We must leave.” Niall said. “We heard news of English reivers nearby and must see to them.”

“Are ye the Lion?” the guard asked.

“Of course I am,” Niall replied. “Open the gate.”

The man hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, of course.” He waved to the battlements and the portcullis gave a long, low groan as it started to slowly lift open.

Tension hovered in the air and there was a subtle stiffening to Niall’s shoulders. This was not going as smoothly as he would have liked.

Leila held her breath, hoping the reiver wouldn’t ask after her.

He did not and within the passing of several agonizing minutes, they were free to exit through the castle entrance.

“Walk normal,” Niall said quietly. “But as soon as I say to do so, run.”

Leila’s pulse leapt and she had to force her feet to maintain the slow pace. The village was quiet; the streets empty save for the few dead who were laid out for collection. Within the cottages, neighbors kept to themselves and did not emerge.

Niall led her around the corner of a cottage and grasped her hand. “Run.”

Together, they raced, Niall threading through a maze of streets Leila did not know. Shouts rose up from behind them, coming from the castle, and Niall’s grip on her hand tightened.

He turned abruptly, pushed open a door to a cottage and shoved her inside.

Leila stumbled into the dark, empty single-room home. The air was musty with disuse and cold in a way suggesting a fire had not been lit within for many years.

A low tingling started at the back of her neck, the first signs of a vision coming as the room lit with a golden glow.