Page 23 of Highland Fire

“Aye. Like sacks of grain.”

“Are ye hurt, lass?”

“Nay. A few bruises. No more. Ye landed far more heavily than I did.”

“Ah, now I understand why my body aches so much. I thought ’twas from the rough handling I must have received after they knocked me on the head.” He released her hand, moving away again.

Moira heard him give a cry of surprise a moment later and tensed. “Are ye all right, Tavig?”

“Aye, loving. I found a keg of ale. Poor quality, but it should sustain us for a wee while. I think there are a few cheeses hanging here, too. They cannae starve us leastwise.”

“Nay, we can be fat and drunk when they tie us to the stake.” She jumped a little when he brushed against her side. “Do ye see in the dark?” she complained when he sat down at her side, tugging her into his arms.

“We arenae going to die at the stake,” he said in a firm voice as he kissed her cheeks.

“Have ye seen that?” she asked, feeling her first flicker of hope since they had been accused of being witches. She realized that she believed in his ability to foretell what was to happen.

“I wish I could say I have clearly seen a swift and successful escape, but, nay, I havenae seen anything.” He felt her slump a little in his grasp. “’Tis just that I cannae believe all that has happened to us was for naught but this. I ken ’tis weak comfort, but cannae believe this was to be our destiny. Look at the paths we have been forced along. I was warned of Iver’s trap. I was warned of your fate and rushed to follow ye into those cold waters. Why would fate or God keep plucking us from the jaws of death only to lead us to this?”

Moira had no answer for that question. She suspected every person facing death asked it, especially when they were innocent of any wrong as she and Tavig were. For a moment she tried to convince herself that they could be proclaimed innocent and set free, but failed. They had been called witches, and such an accusation was as good as a death sentence. They had no advocates to cry them innocent or money to buy their freedom. Tavig could not even let the people know that he was a knight and a laird, for such information would surely put him back in the murderous hands of his cousin Iver. When she found herself praying that he did not think of that as a way to save her life, she realized how much he had begun to mean to her.

That disturbing revelation was still clear in her mind when he touched his lips to hers. Moira curled her arms around his neck, meeting his kiss with a fierce mixture of passion and desperation. Tavig groaned softly, pushing her down onto the cold, hard dirt. She offered no resistance, welcoming the bold strokes of his hands on her body. If she was to die, she was not going to do so without having known the fullness of the desire they shared.

Chapter Seven

“Here now, laddie, that be enough of that.”

It took Tavig a moment to realize he was hearing a voice. It took another moment to realize that he could savor the look of passion on Moira’s face because there was now light in their prison. Even as he saw her eyes widen with a look of embarrassment and a touch of hope, he shook away the last of passion’s blinding grip, easing his body off hers. Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light, he turned to look up. He was both glad and annoyed that he had not had the time to remove any of their clothing. Moira had been ready to make love, he was certain of it. Although he welcomed the opportunity for escape, he wished it had come much later.

“Ye best have a verra good reason for this visit,” he grumbled, recognizing the burly innkeeper looking down at them.

The innkeeper laughed as he lowered a rope ladder. “Ye and your wife can finish your loving elsewhere.”

Tavig was not so sure Moira would be willing once they were safe, but he quickly got to his feet, pulling Moira to hers. “Ye are letting us go?”

“Aye, laddie. Oh, I think ye did have a vision or the like,” he continued as Tavig urged Moira up the ladder, “but I dinnae consider the sight such a bad thing. Nay, especially not when it saved the life of my own wee grandchild.” He grasped Moira by the wrist, tugging her up out of the hatchway.

Moira gasped when she saw six other people in the inn gathered around the opening to her and Tavig’s prison. She only relaxed a little when she recognized two of them as the little girl’s parents. When Tavig got out, he quickly moved to her side, and she stepped closer to him, her trepidation easing somewhat when he put his arm around her shoulders. It was a little hard to believe they were going to be released, but they were out of that hole. It was enough to give her hope.

“Why did ye let them drag us away?” she asked, not sure she trusted this sudden change of heart.

“I am sorry for that,” replied the child’s mother. “We were confused, stunned, in truth. We had thought your mon was stealing our child, but then saw that he had saved her life. Ere we had time to understand what had happened, the folk were crying witch, and what followed was past stopping. We made the quick decision that ’twould be safer for all of us if we waited and then helped ye creep away from Craigmoordun.”

“That could put ye in danger,” said Tavig. “Have ye planned a good explanation for why we were able to flee?”

“Aye,” the innkeeper assured him. “In truth, I think ye would have found a way yourself, laddie. There is more than enough in that storage room to have aided ye and, given time, I am sure ye would have put it to good use. We will drag one of the ale kegs over and set it beneath the hatch, then shatter the door. There is a heavy mallet down there to show folk how ye could have done it. I will be given a wee knock to the jaw so I can say ye overpowered me. Dinnae fret, I willnae cry ye gone until I have to. I hope that willnae be till many an hour has passed, but ye should move fast, laddie. Get as far away as ye can. Get off Craigmoordun land. Once ye do ye will be safe.”

“How do I ken when I am off Craigmoordun land?”

“Ye head north, and when ye cross a wee brook ye have left this accursed place. I would go a few miles beyond that just to be safe, although I doubt anyone will cross after ye. As I told ye, we are surrounded by foes.” The innkeeper returned Tavig’s weapons as he spoke.

“Would it not be better to wait until dark?”

“Aye, but the folk have chosen a guard for you. Believing I would wish to rest, they have chosen a burly lad to sit here all through the night. Ye must leave now.”

“Show me which door to creep out of, then. I thank ye for giving us this chance.” As Tavig grabbed Moira by the hand and started to follow the innkeeper, the little girl’s mother thrust two sacks at him. “What is this?” he asked as he took one, Moira warily accepting the other.

“Food for your journey,” the woman answered. “I also put in a pair of shoes and a few bits of clothing for your wife. I think they will fit her.” The woman briefly frowned at the delicate Moira. “’Twas hard to find something in such a small size.”