His Lady of Castlemora(22)

Turning to his companions he lifted his hand, raising his fingers to  indicate the number of men within and pointing in the appropriate  direction. Then, quietly, he slid his sword free of the scabbard. The  others followed suit. He gestured for Ewan to remain where he was. Then  flinging the door open, Ban and Jock hurtled into the passageway. The  first guard reached for his sword but was cut down before the blade  cleared leather. The second had enough time to free his weapon and, with  an ear-splitting yell, launch himself at Jock. Ban swore softly.  Leaving Jock to deal with the guard he opened the inner door of the  bower.

'Isabelle?'

'Ban!' She stared at him incredulously. 'You came back.'

'Did you doubt it?'

'I thought I'd never see you again.'

'I don't give up that easily.'

There came a groan from the passageway and the clash of swords ceased. Jock put his head round the door.

'I hate tae interrupt but we need to get out of here. In another two minutes this place is going to be swarming.'

Ban nodded then looked at Isabelle. 'Come with me?'

'Yes, Nell must come too. Murdo will kill her otherwise.'

He had no trouble believing it so there was only one possible answer. 'Very well, but make haste.'

Pausing only to snatch up a cloak the two women followed him into the  passageway. They had just reached the outer door when they heard raised  voices from the hall.

'They've heard the racket,' said Jock.

'They could've heard the racket in Dunfermline,' replied Ewan. 'What the hell were you doing?'

'Never mind.' Ban seized Isabelle's hand. 'Just run for it.'

* * *

Forgetting about stealth they fled through the orchard. Behind them the  sound of voices grew louder. Once Isabelle stumbled and would have  fallen but for the strong, supporting hand round hers. When they reached  the wall Jock and Ewan vaulted across. Then Ban swept Isabelle up and  tossed her over to them. Having done the like for Nell he jumped over as  well and then all five of them raced for the wood. Although the  distance was relatively short it seemed to take for ever before they  reached the trees where Davy waited with the horses. Seeing the women he  grinned at his companions.

'You did it!'

'Aye, and now yon wolf pack knows we did,' replied Ewan. 'We need to put some space between us, and fast.'

Davy led the horses forwards. Jock mounted and reached a hand down to Nell. 'Ride pillion behind me, mistress.'

Breathless now, Nell could only nod. When she was safely ensconced, Ban  turned to Isabelle, tossing her up on to his own horse. Then he mounted  behind her, locking an arm about her waist. In the distance they could  hear more shouting. Turning the horses' heads the little group rode away  through the trees and thence up the track to the top of the hill,  retracing their earlier route. The path was clear even in the summer  half-light and the horses made good speed. When they reined at the top  of the hill Ban glanced back. Even at that distance he could see a  flurry of activity below and then the clatter of horses' hooves on  stone. Pursuit was imminent. He knew they would never outrun it when two  of their horses carried extra weight. Moreover he guessed that Murdo  would split his force to pick up their trail. In that they would be  assisted by the light of the rising moon.                       
       
           



       

* * *

After several miles at a breakneck pace the fugitives came at length to a  stand of trees and the men slowed, reining in beneath the sheltering  canopy. For a moment or two they listened. In the distance they heard  the muffled thud of hooves.

'We must find somewhere tae lie low, my lord, or we're dead meat,' said Jock.

'Aye, but where?' asked Ewan.

Isabelle took a deep breath. 'There is a cave in the wood beyond the next hill. It's big enough to take men and horses.'

'How far, my lady?' demanded Ban.

'Two miles perhaps.'

'Tell me the way.'

Under her instruction he headed into the trees and thence along the  right-hand fork of the trail. The horses were blowing hard, their necks  and flanks streaked with sweat and flecked with lather. At this rate  they would soon be spent. Isabelle thanked her lucky stars that she had  ridden this country for the majority of her life and knew it well. She  had found the cave by chance while out on one of her illicit solo rides.  It was in a rocky outcrop set back off the trail and its entrance was  not visible from the track below. Nor was there any sign of it ever  having been inhabited, save perhaps by wild beasts. It might give them a  chance, if they could reach it in time; if Murdo's men didn't know  about it. Otherwise she and all her companions would be caught in a  trap. The thought brought cold sweat to her forehead.

The horses plunged on, across a small stream and up the slope, their  breathing laboured now. Relentlessly the riders spurred them forwards.  Behind them the echo of hoofbeats grew louder; a sinister rhythmic  drumming that struck terror into the heart like a pronouncement of  impending doom. When she glanced back Isabelle could see a line of fire  bright against the darkening land. Torches! Murdo's men would use their  light to follow the trail. It seemed to be taking for ever to reach the  top of the hill. It had not seemed so large before. Eventually they  reached the summit and then began the hazardous descent, the horses  plunging and sliding down the trail, bushes slashing at their legs and  flanks. Then they were into the trees again and the pace slowed a  little.

By the time they reached the rocky outcrop it was clear the horses  couldn't go on much further, burdened as they were. With unspeakable  relief she recognised the narrow path that led up to the cave. The dark  mouth yawned before them. Dismounting hurriedly, Ewan threw his horse's  reins at Davy.

'Take him. I'll go and wipe our tracks as far as I can.'

He seized a fallen branch and raced away leaving the others to enter the  cave. Ban dismounted and then lifted Isabelle down. His hands lingered a  moment on her waist.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

She nodded, aware of him to her very fingertips. 'Aye, my lord.'

'We may outwit them yet. Take Nell and get as far into the cave as you can.'

Without argument the two women obeyed. Presently Isabelle felt the cold  stone wall at the rear of the cavern and turned with her back to it,  clutching Nell's arm. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom she could just  make out the dark mass of the horses, just catch the sound of their  breathing. The blood pounded in her ears. It was echoed by another  rhythm: the drumming beat of galloping hooves drawing nearer. Hardly  daring to breathe she listened as the sound increased. Then she heard  men's voices and caught through the trees below the flicker of  torchlight. Isabelle shut her eyes and swallowed hard, praying. A noise  in the cave mouth made her start. Then she realised it was Ewan  returning. Had he been able to erase their tracks in time?

The drumming changed tempo, slowed and then stopped altogether. The  searchers had slowed their horses to a walk. She could visualise the  leading riders, grim faced, hard-eyed, looking for the trail by the  light of the torches. Her overwrought imagination heard the chink of  harness, the creak of saddle leather. These were men battle-hardened,  accustomed to the outdoors, well used to tracking and guided almost by  the scent of fear. They would relish this chase. When they ran their  prey to ground they would flush it by whatever means necessary and,  having it fast, would destroy it. Ban and the rest would be slain where  they stood, she and Nell dragged back to Murdo. Almost she could see the  cold ruthless gaze, the pitiless eye that would delight in her fear and  seek to enhance her humiliation. He would make her watch the deaths of  her companions before he carried her by force back to Castlemora.  Then... The very thought was enough to freeze the blood. There was no  hope of effective resistance. Murdo had the power to do with her  whatever he wished. Isabelle trembled, feeling sick with revulsion.  Before she would permit that to happen she would make an end of her life  at the point of a dagger.                       
       
           



       

She waited, nerves stretched to screaming point, as the voices came closer and she could make out individual words.

'...lost the trail...might have doubled back...fan out...'

She heard hoof falls on dry earth and the clink of an iron shoe on  stone. They must be right below the hiding place. If they looked up they  would see only trees and undergrowth and then the rock wall. If you  didn't know the path was there you would miss it. She had only found it  by chance. Please, God, let them be deceived. Hardly daring to breathe  she clutched Nell's arm more tightly. Seconds crawled by like hours.  Then the voices moved away and the flickering lights with them. Silence  formed and grew and became oppressive. Then the hoofbeats sounded again  but they too gradually faded into the distance.