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The rider sped in to shouts from the watchmen and, as he dismounted and tethered his horse, they gave greeting and then they all moved over to a brazier together to warm their hands. They had their backs to her. Now was her chance, after five long days of watching and planning her escape. Five long days of hating the sight of Will and hating herself for trusting in him.
With a pounding heart, she slung the bundle over her back, slipped out of her cover and snuck up to the horse. It was the work of a moment to untether it and hurl herself up onto its back. A hard kick in the ribs sent it clattering through the open gates, and she was out, and free.
Behind her, she heard the shouts of the watchmen and someone ringing a bell, but she did not look back. She headed for the top of the ridge leading away from Fitheach and the cover of the small patch of woodland she had seen when out riding with Will. She would hide there, perhaps she could hail a passing ship and bribe them to take her across with the silver she had begged from Drostan. He was more than happy to confound his cousin by helping her escape.
As Morna sped further and further from Fitheach, her exhilaration grew. It was good to act, to move, to do anything but feel helpless.
A pounding of hooves, getting louder!
Morna turned to see a horse gaining on her and, on its back, Will, his face a snarl of anger. She kicked her horse to go faster, but it was tired from its morning ride, and, when she glanced back, Will’s horse had eaten up the distance between them, its powerful legs driving the huge animal uphill with ease, while hers struggled. To the left were sheer cliffs and the sea below, and to the right, the land rose steeply, which would only serve to slow her steed. There wasn’t any cover or anywhere to hide.
Morna leaned forward in the saddle as the pounding got louder. She had to get away. She could not let him catch her.
The dark bulk of his horse came alongside, neck stretching, and suddenly veered into her own mount, making it toss its head in alarm. Morna tried to kick it away, but Will took hold of the bridle and wrenched her horse’s head sideways, slowing it down and steering it uphill. Try as she might, she could not get free and, eventually, they came to a standstill.
Will’s face was white with rage, a vein pulsing in his temple and Morna was suddenly fearful of him.
‘We are going back to Fitheach,’ he spat as he turned them around and headed back the way they had come. After that, there was only a bitter silence until they were back inside her prison.
Once in the yard, Will flung himself off his horse and dragged Morna down from hers. Her legs gave way, and she landed on her bottom in the mud. Onlookers gathered to stare, but no one said anything, instead, they drew back, for Will’s rage was palpable. He wrenched her to her feet with a painful grip on her arm and dragged her back to her chamber, threw her inside and slammed the door shut behind them. He paced up and down, taking deep breaths.
‘Try that again, and I will thrash you to within an inch of your life.’
‘You may try,’ spat Morna.
‘Don’t goad me, girl, for I am in a towering rage. If you know what is good for you, then you will be silent.’
‘I won’t ever stop trying to escape you.’
‘You will do as you are told and stay put.’
His words, bellowed like an enraged bull, echoed off the walls, and Morna flinched, but she was in no mood to be cowed. ‘I will not stay, and I will not be your whore, William Bain. That’s why you keep me here, isn’t it, to have me? I can see it all over your face every time you look at me. You want me, you want to make me your whore.’
Will rushed at her and took hold of her around the throat, but his grip was restrained. ‘Whore, is it? Well, why don’t I take my pleasure of you and give you no coin, then you’ll be no whore, will you?’ His eyes burned with rage.
‘Go on then, do it, get it over with so that I can really hate you.’
‘You don’t hate me.’
‘Yes I do, and if its rape you are after do your worst and then let me go home.’
‘I don’t hold with rape, and I’ve never had any reason for it. Women always like me, I can get them to do what I want with very little trouble.’
‘Then you have no honour, Will.’
‘Never had a need for it,’ he spat.
‘You are a conniving, mean-spirited monster is what you are.’
‘What I am is a man with fire in his loins, put there by you, and if you do not curb your tongue I may yet douse the flames by throwing you down on that bed and taking what you so obviously long to give me, Morna.’
He took a step forward, his chest pressed against hers and she tried to retreat from him, but her legs banged up against the edge of the bed. If he tipped her backwards, she would be lost, trapped under the sheer bulk of this man.
‘Don’t play with fire lass, unless you want to scorch your pretty little fingers,’ he said, his lips a breath away from her own. ‘And burn you will if you name yourself whore in my presence again.’
‘Let me go, and I won’t have to.’
‘No, Morna, I am enjoying this game too much to stop playing it. And besides, I already know the outcome. We both do.’
