Page 18 of Savage Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Unfortunately, the conditions would not allow him to keep up the pretence that all was well for very long. As the perilous track spiralled up to the peak, he saw with sinking heart that it was turning into a stream, with the rainwater rushing downhill beneath their feet, washing away whole clumps of earth between the rocks as it went.

“’Tis too dangerous fer the horses fer us tae continue ridin’,” he told her, his words being partially whipped away by the ever-rising wind. “We havetae get down and lead them.” To his surprise, she took her hands from over her eyes and nodded her agreement from beneath her dripping hood.

“Yes, I am worried for poor Lucy. She is not used to this sort of weather. I should not like her to hurt her legs on this dangerous track, and this prolonged rain is not good for their hooves either,” she said, her lips quivering as rain ran down her exposed face. Bane slipped from the saddle, then lifted her down. “How long before it gets dark? Can we not get off this path and find somewhere to shelter?” she asked piteously, mirroring his own thoughts. He was worried about her. She was delicate, quite unused to the conditions she found herself in.

It was not her fault, but her weakness was dragging them down, putting them both in danger, ruining his plans. His anxiety was making him irritable, but he feared that if he let it show it might upset her so much, she would just sit down and refuse to go any further. He did not know what he would do then, except carry her, and he did not like to imagine how that would go in the current conditions. He pictured them lying at the bottom of the precipice, dead. So, when he replied to her question, he tried his best to sound calm and encouraging.

“That’s what I intend tae dae when we get tae the top of this hill. So, if we dae less talkin’ and more walkin’, we’ll get there all the quicker. It’ll be a lot easier once we get tae the top. The land is flat, and I’ll be able tae find somewhere tae make camp fer the night.”

She gave a watery sigh but said nothing, simply plodding onwards, her head down. His anxiety was slightly allayed when he saw that she was trying to go faster and keep up with him as he continued labouring up the steep incline. However, the look of pure misery and hopelessness on her face made him feel even worse about what he was doing to her, which just made him even angrier with himself.

I have nay choice if I wantae get Tav back.

He kept repeating it to himself as they toiled onward.

Up, up they went, with Constance panting, out of breath, forcing them to move at a snail’s pace, rain and wind lashing them on their exposed side. Bane was growing increasingly impatient with her. He was soaked to the skin and shivering beneath his old cloak, but he was careful not to show it to Constance, believing it would only encourage her to give in to her weakness. “Come on, pick up yer feet, we must move faster unless ye wantae die out here!” he would tell her very few minutes.

“I-I’m tryin’ me best, but I’m so tired and cold, I-I can’t go any faster,” she gasped out. “I do not have the strength for this.”

“Aye, ye dae. Ye just think that because ye’ve lived such a pampered life. Ye’ve never had tae dae anythin’ hard before like normal folks. But ye’re young and stronger than ye think,” he replied sceptically.

“I wish we had stayed in the cave. I’m afraid I’m going to die out here and no one will ever know what happened to me,” she muttered weakly between ragged breaths as she gingerly picked her way upwards behind him, the rain running like a small river over her booted feet.

He scoffed in derision. “Wheesht! Ye’ll nae die if ye dae as I say. I ken what I’m daein’,” Bane insisted, annoyed at having his ability to protect her thrown into doubt.

“I am soaked to the skin and freezing,” she moaned though chattering teeth. “I cannot even feel my hands or my feet anymore. I tell you, I simply cannot go any further.” She tripped over her muddy hem and almost fell over. “You see! I can hardly even walk. And the weather is worsening the higher we go.”

“There’s nay where else tae go but up, so stop whinin’ and save yer breath fer the climb,” he snapped in irritation. Her complaints niggled at him, but he was more annoyed because she was right. He knew he never should have started up the hillside in such poor weather. Instead he found a place to camp down below. His desire to put as much distance between them and Ewan Kerr had driven him to make a misjudgement, but it was too late tae turn back.

Feeling more of a failure with every step, he cast frequent glances over at Constance. Her cheeks and nose were red with cold, her eyes full of rain as though she were crying, her wet cloak clinging to her. She was a pitiful sight, and he felt terrible. Moreover, she seemed barely able to keep her balance and kept on slipping in the mud or tripping on the rubble as it washed under their feet. They reached a particularly hazardous part of the track, the edge of the precipice just a mere few feet away. As they were navigating it, Constance suddenly let out a loud shriek and fell on her face into the mud with a splat.

At any other time, Bane might have laughed. But not now. He could not help but feel sorry for her. He picked her up and set her on her feet. Her gloves and the front of her cloak were plastered with wet mud, and her face was spattered with brown spots. She was far from the immaculate English miss he had first laid eyes on. Yet somehow, as the rain lashed her face and washed away the dirt, she managed to appear more beautiful than ever.

Stamping her foot with a splash, she angrily declared, “That is the end. I refuse to walk another step.”

Bane took a deep breath, realizing he had to do something to help her if they were to get off the dangerous pathway or travel any further that day. He took out his dirk, leaned over to the stunted trees growing above them, and cut a branch. With a few quick slashes of the blade, he fashioned it into a stout walking stick and held it out to her.

With a venomous glare, she snatched it from his hand.

“Come on, now, we cannae stay here, and there’s nae far tae go now,” he said encouragingly, urging her forward. She huffed but, thankfully, obeyed with no further protest. However, her small body seemed to radiate supressed fury as she stamped along next to him, using the walking stick for support. Bane was relieved that it seemed to be helping, for she was able to keep her balance better and did not slip or trip as often as before, which meant they made faster progress.

With his worry for Constance temporarily allayed, he turned it on the horses. Strong as they were, they were also wet and shivering too and were growing weary. The steep incline and perilous conditions underfoot were taking their toll. The beasts were too valuable to take any more risks with their well-being. Bane’s desperation to find them all shelter before nightfall grew with every step. But where?

Then, with only a few hundred yards to go before they reached the peak of the hillside, his worst nightmare came true. At first, he was relieved when the rain petered out. But as they continued to climb, he felt the temperature dropping. When he looked at the sky, he saw with trepidation that it had turned an unearthly yellow.

Then, he felt the first freezing pinpricks on his cheeks and in his eyes. It was snowing!

“Keep walkin’,” Bane said through gritted teeth, forging ahead into the thickening flurries. He peered upwards, searching for the outline of the huge twin boulders that signposted the summit. His heart lifted when he spied them. “We’ve made it. We’re at the top,” he told her, speeding up as much as he dared. Within a minute or two, he was leading the horses between the giant boulders and onto a broader, more sheltered trail. There were bushes and trees on either side, which provided some protection from the snow and wind. As a result, it was not half as muddy as before, and the land was relatively flat, which made walking much easier and faster.

It was not long before they began descending the other side of the hill. They were following Bane’s planned route, and he knew they were heading to the small valley below which consisted mainly of moorland. All the while, he was racking his brain to think of a place where they could shelter for the night. In his mind, he retraced his previous journey of recognition to prepare the deserted cottage for them. He suddenly recalled seeing the roof of a ruined cabin set back from the trail, perched among the rocks and gorse.

The cold was taking its toll on his ability to reason, but he thought he could remember roughly where it was. Though he had no idea what condition the cabin was in, with the weather closing in and only a few hours until nightfall, it seemed to be their only option for survival. He guessed the cottage he had prepared for them was at least another five miles or so ahead. He looked at Constance and saw she was reaching the end of her endurance. If he forced her to go much further, he feared she might collapse altogether.

The terrifying possibility that she could die because of his actions galvanized him, and he made a quick decision. Regardless of the risk to Lucy, he lifted Constance by the waist and put her on the horse’s back. She swayed in the saddle like a ragdoll as he pushed her feet into the stirrups and placed the reins loosely in her hands. “T-thank y-you,” she murmured through chattering teeth.

Like the horses, Bane put his head down as they plodded along the trail into the blowing snow. Fortunately, the ground was so wet, the snow was not yet laying, only clotting here and there. Every now and then he lifted his eyes and squinted at the surroundings, just able to make out landmarks which told him the cabin must be nearby.