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David looked longingly at Daisy. He didn’t just miss her. His map of Scotland and his writing tools were in the travel pouch attached to her saddle. “We need the horse.”

Anna looked at the church tower peeking out of the distant outline of Ayr. “We can go into town and ask for help.”

“We don’t know if we’ll meet anyone who can help.”

“My clan could be in Ayr. They’ll protect me. They’ll take me to Stirling.”

David felt his jaw work. How could he explain to her that the key out of this time was on his horse?

And going to Ayr…she was probably right. But the idea of letting her go so quickly made his chest hurt. Somehow, he was clinging to any opportunity to stay with her.

“They’re not paying attention,” he said. “Whatever Dugald is yelling about, everyone’s looking.” Almost all of the warriors were gathered around Dugald and the young warrior.

Anna was looking between the camp and the horses. They were far enough away from each other that if the MacDowells kept arguing, they may have a chance to get Daisy. Now the wind brought snippets of angry voices to David and her.

“All right,” she said. “Ye’re right. They are still arguing.”

“Okay,” David said. “Stay here. I’ll get Daisy.”

“Nae…”

“Stay here!” He took a breath. “Please, Anna. Listen to me. Under no circumstances can they see you. I’ll be careful, but even if they catch me, you run, okay?”

She sighed loudly. “Yer strange ‘okay’… I never heard anyone use that word before, though ye say it often.”

“Promise me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she imitated him and they both grinned, and her smile sent a ray of sunlight straight into the middle of his chest.

He squeezed her shoulder as he passed by her, crouching. He stayed low as he moved to the horses behind the dunes. In about twenty feet, the dunes ended in a patch of sandy grassland. That became proper, albeit a little rocky, soil with short grass and underbrush.

When no dunes protected him from the sight of the MacDowells, he straightened, as though he had all the right in the world to be there, and calmly walked to the horses. Still about eighty feet separated him from the camp, and with every step he was closer to Daisy.

She raised her head and snorted, looking at him.

Steady, girl.

His feet were heavy; it was like walking through custard. He kept throwing sideways glances at the MacDowells, who were still arguing, and now someone had started a fistfight.

Good. They were yelling now. At each other.

Better.

He imagined one of them looking up and seeing him, pointing his finger, then all of them, already angry and bloodthirsty, running at him. Forty men against one. A single, cold slice of steel against his neck would end his life.

And he wouldn’t be there to protect Anna.

But no one pointed. No one yelled in alarm.

Miraculously, he reached Daisy. The scent of horse manure was pungent in his nostrils as he patted his old friend, looking into her black, shiny eyes. She snorted softly as he stroked down the rough, warm fur of her nose. He was relieved to see that his traveling pouch was still attached to her, even though he had no idea if his map was still there.

“Hey, Daisy,” he said softly as he untied the reins from the bush she’d been grazing on. “They didn’t harm you, did they? Let’s get out of here.”

“Dinna move a muscle,” someone said behind him.

His breath caught in his chest. Slowly, he turned his head. A man was pointing his sword at him. Where the hell had he come from? Was he guarding the horses? Goddamn it. The man put the tip of the sword against David’s back.

“Ye’re nae going anywhere.”