Page 63 of Come the Morning

“Aye, we’ll waste no time.”

Was she in trouble, or simply creating more mayhem? Waryk didn’t know. But if he got his hands on Mellyora this time, he was going to see to it that she didn’t escape again if it meant chaining her hand and foot and casting her into the deepest dungeon.

The moon was high in the sky when they finally slowed their wild rush across the hilly countryside. Mellyora saw that theyhad come to very rocky countryside where great crags and boulders rose above a small, shimmering loch. The cliffs and caverns here, she thought, offered a natural protection against attack and a maze of hiding places.

“See to the horses,” Mellyora’s rescuer ordered, dismounting from the horse and reaching up to her. “My lady?”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Get down.” He reached for her despite her protest, bringing her to the ground. Her instinct was to run. There were perhaps twelve men surrounding her. Now was not the time.

She surveyed her surroundings in the night. Caverns opened to the rocky shore of the loch. Men, and even horses, could disappear within the wild terrain of rock and crevice.

“Come,” her unknown captor told her, reaching out a hand to her, “there’s a place I know you’ll be safe from the king’s lackey.”

“Where will I be safe from you?” she asked.

He smiled. “You don’t know the Norman, do you?”

“I don’t want a war. Who are you?”

“Your uncle’s men, my lady.”

“You’re lying.”

“Come with me.”

He reached out, grasped her arm, and thrust her forward. She felt her sword against her thigh, covered by the enveloping cloak she’d been forced to wear. She didn’t draw it now; it wasn’t the time.

He prodded her along the bank of the shore to a rough path that led upward along a rugged crag. In the darkness, it was an eerie place, but she was accustomed to such wild outcroppings; the landscape could be very similar along the ocean where she lived. She knew this kind of crag. The rock could be jagged and then smooth; the formation might be riddled with little caves, some barely large enough for a fox, some wide and never-ending. A cool wind was whipping around her, and the cloudscovered the moon. The sense of her own peril filled her, along with dismay that she had been so easily duped into helping with her own abduction.

“My uncle had nothing to do with this.”

“Again, I tell you, you didn’t want to marry the Norman lackey.”

“You are trying to force a war,” she said.

“There is always a war,” he told her. “Take care, the going is getting rougher. Here, give me your hand. We can move more swiftly—we wouldn’t want you to fall.”

She pulled back, trying to stare at him, but his head was covered by his helm, and she realized that she would not know him if she were to see him again.

“No, I’m going no farther. Who are you? What are you trying to do? If my uncle is hurt or held responsible for anything in this, I swear, you’ll die—”

“Ah, so speaks great Adin’s daughter! But Adin is dead, my lady, and you are a girl, at my mercy.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make mistakes. I am my father’s daughter!”

She was instantly aware that she should have thought more carefully. He pulled his sword, setting the point of it against her throat.

“I think, my lady, you will do as I say.”

What a fool she’d been, believing in a man she’d never seen, and so furtive an escape from her uncle’s camp. Who was he indeed, and did he dare kill her? Was she a pawn he needed for his own game?

“You’re going to kill me?” she inquired, fighting her fear and speaking contemptuously.

“If you force me, my lady.”

“Well, I don’t wish to die, so I’ll move on,” she said impatiently, pushing the sword aside. She gathered the skirt of her gown andswept quickly on, her heart pounding ferociously. The ground was precarious here, but he might not be prepared for the fact that she was as surefooted as a goat and could manage the terrain—given half a chance.