Page 134 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"We must be quiet and slip out carefully," Elsea whispered.

The women nodded their understanding. They wore moth-eaten, cast-off plaids and arisaids, which were wrapped around the body and tied with strings or strips of cloth. Their feet were bare.

"Saints! Your feet will freeze off out there."

A couple of them shook their heads. "Nay. Warm."

"Selkie," another said.

"I ken you're selkies. 'Tis why I'm here. To free you. My name is Elsea, by the way."

A few of them dipped their heads as if nodding their thanks, then whispered her name.

"Let's hurry." Carrying the torch, Elsea unsheathed the foot long dirk from her belt and led the way up the steps. At the top, she returned the torch to the bracket so the men wouldn't suspect anything.

Elsea reached the bailey, the women following her, and the chill wind blew her cowl back. "This way," she kept her voice low.

She snatched the cowl back over her light-colored hair and raced toward the gaping hole in the wall.

"Halt!" The rough, male voice echoed.

"Go," she told the selkies. "Run!"

Silence and a cold wind followed her as she sprinted along the outside of the wall. Where were the selkies? She paused and glanced back as they dashed down the hill toward the loch, throwing off their clothing along the way. What on earth? Shocked, Elsea hid behind a leafless bush, waiting to see if they got away. Ice glistening along the edge of the water, they waded in.

She shivered, hoping they knew what they were doing. The water was their natural home, after all.

The guard slid to a halt outside the wall and roared when the naked females escaped into the water. Elsea drew back, hoping the bush would conceal her, but it was not evergreen. He might see her through it. She froze, silent and still, hardly daring to breathe, praying he would go back inside. Was her dark cloak enough to conceal her in the moonlight glinting off the snow?

He yelled curses. "The laird will have my head," he gritted between his teeth.

He glanced along the wall. His narrowed gaze catching on her, he stilled.

Her breath froze within her lungs.

Sword in hand, he stumbled forward over the rocks. Blast! She couldn't allow him to get too close. She shoved herself up to scurry away, but he caught the hem of her arisaid. Her heart rate sped along, and she inhaled in short gasps.

"Halt, wench, or I'll run you through!"

The tip of the sword pricked her back, and she fell over a rock.

"Who are you?" he demanded, dragging her toward him and forcing her to turn over onto her back. Looming over her, he dropped the sword and pulled out a sgian dubh. Twisting her cloak up in front, he held the small knife to her throat. "Push your hood back," he ordered.

"Very well," she said and knocked his sgian dubh away, then drove upward with her dirk into the soft flesh of his belly.

He screeched like an animal. Getting her feet under him, she kicked him off, and he tumbled down the embankment toward the loch.

He yelled the whole way down, surely alerting the other guards.

Heart hammering, she raced toward the wood and her horse. Saints! She had never stabbed a man before. Had never needed to. Would he die?

Her legs growing weak from fright, she sheathed the dirk and hoisted herself into the saddle.

More male shouts echoed from the castle.

Turning her horse around, she allowed Freya to trot through the wood a short distance, trying to stay quiet. She wanted to kick Freya into a gallop, but the loud hoofbeats would alert them to her location. The wind still gusted in fierce, uneven blasts, which would help cover the sounds.

She had to make haste! After a minute, she loosened the reins and raised herself from the saddle, which sent Freya into a gallop. Elsea's hood flew back in the icy wind.