Page 42 of Highland Storm

“Why no’? Ye’re a prisoner, the same as he.”

“I’m ready,” said Caleb, walking past with something in his arms.

“Wait, Caleb,” said Hawke, stopping him. “What have ye got there?”

“It’s my new pet,” he answered, holding up a long animal with a black and cream-colored striped face. “I found her down at the riverbed.”

“That’s a polecat!” spat Hawke in surprise. “Get rid of it. Fast!”

“Nay,” protested Phoebe. “I think it’s kind of cute.”

“Believe me, they dinna make guid pets,” Hawke assured her.

“I like it.” Phoebe reached out to pet it. The animal opened its mouth showing fangs, and lifted one paw with sharp claws, scratching her.

“Och!” Phoebe screamed, jumping back, startling the animal.

“Nay! Dinna startle it.” Hawke grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, turning them both around, making distance between them and Caleb.

“Oh, hell!” Caleb grumbled, as the air was filled with a pungent stench.

“Now do ye see what I mean?” asked Hawke.

“I’ll get rid of it,” said Caleb, sounding disheartened, heading away.

“Take a jump in the river while ye’re there,” Hawke called after him. “Ye stink!”

Ten minutes later, Caleb returned, dripping wet. Everyone was ready to leave.

“Egads, boy, I can smell ye all the way from here,” complained Callum from the wagon. “That stench will alert any enemy from here to the Highlands that we’re comin’.”

“It’ll take a while to rid yerself of the smell,” Hawke told him.

“Well, ye willna be takin’ any lassies to yer bed, that’s for sure,” said Ethan, causing both him and Logan to burst out laughing.

“Callum’s right. We’ll no’ be able to sneak up on the enemy with ye around,” said Logan.

“Let’s go,” Callum shouted from the wagon. “I need to get back to the Horn and Hoof. We’re almost out of Mountain Magic.”

“Give me some whisky,” complained Lennox from the back of the cart. “And get me out of this wagon.”

Lennox had been causing so much trouble, that they’d had to tie both his hands and legs together and then tie him to the wagon as well.

“I’ll no’ waste guid whisky on the likes of ye,” growled Callum, leaning over and spitting over the side of the wagon from the front bench seat.

“It might help with the pain from his wound,” suggested Orrick. “Mayhap we should give him some after all. His wound is starting to fester.”

“It’s fine. Let him have it,” said Hawke.

“But didna ye hear Callum?” asked Ethan. “We’re almost out of Mountain Magic.”

“Give him the rest,” Hawke said once again, knowing the greedy man would guzzle it down and pass out at least until they got to Glasgow. It was what he wanted – peace and quiet.

“Here, ye bluidthirsty, no guid MacNab.” Callum threw him the bottle and Lennox caught it with his tied hands.

“Ye’d better tie her up and get her in the cart, too.” Logan told Hawke, speaking of Phoebe.

Phoebe’s head snapped around and her eyes met Hawke’s once again in a silent, desperate plea. Hawke didn’t have the heart to tie her up and he certainly didn’t want to put her next to Lennox. There was no telling what that man might do to her.