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“Amber!” Owen yelled and stopped to help her up.

They ran again, but the English were catching up, and their cries were louder now.

“Stop!” someone called from behind.

Arrows flew past them, hitting the ground and trees. Someone grabbed her, and she fell, crumbling under the weight of a grown man. Pine needles and twigs stabbed her hands and legs.

“Got her!” the man announced. He reeked of old sweat and alcohol.

Amber wriggled, trying to free herself, but she was already surrounded.

“Got him,” another voice came. “Not going anywhere today, you bloody Scot.”

Tears of helplessness burned Amber’s eyes.

“Let me go!” she yelled. “I’m not even a freaking Highlander!”

“Shut up.” The man above her slapped her hard.

Her head burst with pain. He hauled her up and dragged her after him back to the camp. To her right, two men led Owen. Amber and Owen exchanged an angry, disappointed look. Their guard sat by the cage with a cloth pressed to his forehead.

“Wanted to piss, eh?” he spat as Amber passed by. “Go to hell, you evil bitch. Let the cart stink, you won’t leave it again till we reach Stirling.”

“Go to hell,” Amber said.

Amber and Owen were shoved back into the cage, and the guard locked them.

“Damn it!” Amber hit the bars. “So close.”

“Aye, well, lass. We’ll try again.”

But his tone wasn’t as optimistic as before, and he wore a deep frown.

“No, you won’t,” said a voice, and Amber turned around.

Sir de Bourgh stood by the cage. Not in armor anymore, he wore a red coat, a tunic that reached his knees. He had a large sword at his waist. The pommel was decorated with beautiful coiled patterns that gleamed and reflected the light of fire.

“You won’t escape again,” he said, eying Amber with curiosity.

He approached the cage and gripped two bars in his hands. Amber felt like an animal at the zoo from the way he stared at her.

“Pray tell, where are you from, dear? I’ve never seen anyone like you.”

A white-hot wave of anger and anxiety hit her. Those eyes again, the lazy authority of a powerful, military man.

Owen moved a step closer to him. “Doesna matter, ye pig. She’s my wife.” Amber looked at him with astonishment. Was he really going to lie to try and protect her? A sweet lightness filled her. “Stop asking yer unnecessary questions, and let us go.”

De Bourgh chuckled without taking his eyes off Amber.

“Your wife? And where did ye get such a beauty?”

“Dinna look at her like that. Allow yerself one dirty thought, and ye’ll be missing yer cock.”

De Bourgh looked at Owen, amused. “And how do you plan to do that from inside a cage, without your sword or your dagger?”

“A Highlander always finds a way.”

“Right. Well. I’ll keep a watch over my cock. Thanks for the warning. What is your name, brave Highlander?”