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The Highlander descended after her, and she heard the soft thump of the lid close. The sounds from outside disappeared, and a strange silence reigned.
She didn’t want to think that a whole castle stood above her, several feet of rock and soil.
Foreword
Just like she’d learned in Afghanistan, look ahead and don’t overthink it.
They walked for what felt like an eternity. Her back ached, and her thighs burned. The guy behind her breathed heavily, that and their steps and the crackling of the torch were the only sounds in this tomb.
Finally, Amber saw steps before her.
“This is it?” she said.
“Aye. Must be.”
She nodded and carefully climbed the stairs. She gave him the torch and pushed the lid at the top of the tunnel open until it fell with a loud crash.
Thirty pairs of eyes glared at her. Men in armor stood on all sides, swords pointed at her head. The English.
“Back! Back!” she cried to the guy behind her.
Too late.
The closest man leaned down, grabbed her by the collar, and pulled her up. The guy burst out of the tunnel after her, waving his sword and the torch at the same time.
“Grab them!” said someone with an authoritative voice. “They escaped from the castle.”
Twenty men rushed forward and pretty much swallowed her companion under their combined weight. Two men grabbed Amber’s arms. She thrashed and beat against them, but they held her tightly.
A bald man in his forties wearing heavy armor approached on a horse. He had the piercing gaze of someone in charge. Just like Major Ronald Jackson, the man responsible for all the bad things that had happened to Amber.
“Two Highlanders,” he said. “Put them in the cage. I’d like to speak to them later.”
“Sir de Bourgh,” one of the men holding her said in the way of agreeing.
“Take them to Stirling,” de Bourgh said.
No! No! Was that another castle? A dungeon? She’d escaped prison in another time only to be put in a medieval one?
They pulled her somewhere to the side, into a cage attached to a cart pulled by a horse. English warriors put the Highlander in with her and locked the door.
“No! You have the wrong person!” Amber cried.
That would be exactly what she’d be crying to the police. Was this all a nightmare? Please, let this be a bad dream! No one believed her—not in either situation.
“Damnation!” The Highlander rose and looked somewhere in the distance, holding the cage bars. “Is that the Bruce?”
Amber followed his gaze, and her eyes widened. An army approached the castle. First came the cavalry, after them, infantry. They mowed down the English forces, cutting through them like a knife through butter. Amber could hear the rumble of hooves even from here. The ground vibrated.
“Sir de Bourgh,” the Highlander called. “Ye’ve already lost. ’Tis the Bruce. Ye’ll never win against his forces. He has a history of winning with a few hundred men against thousands.”
De Bourgh’s face reddened. “Retreat!” he called. “Everyone, retreat!”
The cage started moving, and Amber pressed her face to the bars as Inverlochy Castle faded in the distance.
Chapter 4
The cart with the cage shook as it rolled over the rocky path, making Owen’s teeth rattle. His head bumped against the bars, and he sat straighter in the corner.
