The guard opened the worn-wooden door and went off to do as she asked. Emlyn ran inside and found James lying on a wooden spiked table. His hands and feet were strapped to it. She unbound him, gently removing the leather straps.
“James,” she said in desperation, “What have they done to you?” He didn’t look as though he was breathing and she set her palm on his heart. A beat thumped there. She realized her breath came harshly as she stood there looking at him.
James groaned, but made no move to open his eyes.
Emlyn petted him gently. “You’re hurt, my love. I am so wretched for causing you such pain. Can you hear me? James?”
He remained unresponsive.
The guard returned. “I got a cart, lad. There were two horses in the bailey and I hooked them up to it. Should be good enough to get you to the lord.”
“Can you help me lift him?”
“What do I look like? I don’t do your bidding.” He started to turn away.
“I shall leave then and tell my lord you refused to assist me. If he’s unable to ransom the man it’ll be your neck he squeezes, not mine.” She walked away from the table and was about to exit the chamber when he stopped her.
“Wait, lad. I’ll help, but ye best tell Marshall I helped you.” He hefted James over his shoulder and carried him outside. He practically threw James onto the cart.
Emlyn scrunched her eyes, wishing she could give him a what-for, for he was a brute. She returned to the cell and found James’ sword and pouch he wore on his belt. She took them and hid them beside her when she exited.
“My thanks,” she said to the guard, and tossed the items she held, without him seeing, into the front of the cart.
“Best hasten if you’re going to catch up to Marshall.”
“Aye, I will. I should ride hard for he is ahead by hours.” Emlyn sat upon the cart and shouted at the horses and flicked the reins. She was at last on her way. As soon as she rode through the gate, she headed in the direction she’d come from. If only she could make it safely to Gunn land.
Chapter Twenty-One
By late afternoon, she’d made a good distance. The midafternoon heated, and she removed her helmet and untied her tunic. Emlyn wanted to stop and check on James, but she wanted to be far away from the keep in case they realized she’d escaped. A large rock jutted from the hillside, and she decided that would be a good place to take rest and to see how James fared.
She pulled the horses to a stop and let their reins loose so they could forage in the grass. Thinking of that made her stomach growl as she’d eaten nothing that day, but she was more concerned about James than her hunger.
Emlyn climbed onto the back of the cart and noticed James still lay on his front with his eyes closed. She was leery to touch him as he had to be in a great deal of pain. His tunic spotted with blood from being poked by the spikes of the table. She wanted to weep at the sight, but knew she had to remain strong.
Gently, she touched his face and his skin was cool to the touch. At least he hadn’t gotten fever. His body sprawled out and she winced at the way his leg bent, where the soldier had stepped on it. How it must pain him. She took notice of his shoulder and arm, and discerned the damage.
“James, can you hear me?”
He groaned.
“I’m getting us to safety. Worry not.” Emlyn caressed his hair and face, touching him gently with reassurance.
James opened his eyes and grunted. He only kept them open briefly and appeared to succumb to sleep again. That was well and good since he needed rest to heal.
Emlyn grabbed her satchel and rummaged through it until she found the bread she’d put in there. She nibbled on it and sated herself. Night would be coming soon and she decided to keep going. She hoped she headed in the opposite direction of Marshall, and must have because she saw nary a person on her journey.
Once she regained the horse’s reins, she started off again, heading north. James had mentioned when they left they would head north toward Gunn land. Emlyn kept apprised of the location of the sun and hoped she headed in the right direction. Only she didn’t know how afar their lands were and hoped it wouldn’t take long.
The day turned into night as she rode along. Emlyn couldn’t keep her eyes open and dozed off. When she opened her eyes again, she realized she’d fallen asleep, but thankfully the horses trudged onward.
Another day of riding was ahead of her and when she spotted a stream, she stopped to rest and take drink. She let the horses drink and Oran tried to bite her shoulder when she led him toward the water. James’ horse was definitely of an ornery nature. After caring for the horses, she found a horn in James’ saddlebag and realized it was empty. She dunked it in the water and drank it down.
She returned to James’ side and tried to get him to drink a little and forced some in his mouth, but he was unresponsive. With as much force as she could garner, she capped the horn and left it next to him, hoping he’d see it if he awakened. The day grew chilly, and she took a tartan from his bag and covered him with it. Fortunately there were two, so she used the other to wrap around herself. She had no idea where her cloak was and had lost it somewhere.
Emlyn swore she’d never ride as far again, for her rear hurt from sitting on the wooden plank of the cart. Onward she rode, and continued through the night. She only stopped twice the next day, and another night was coming on. The trees, rocks, and hills, all looked alike and the lane ahead wavered in her vision.
Frustration began to build within her, for she had no conception of where she was or even if she was headed in the right direction. The cart moved forward as the horses slowed their pace. They were tired too, but even if they didn’t move with vigor, they were at least moving.
Emlyn heard the sounds of other horses and pulled the cart to the side, near the tree line for protection. Hopefully she wouldn’t be spotted. If danger lurked, she’d be ready for it and pulled James’ sword and dirk from the floor of the cart in front of her, and held both.
A group of men, at least ten, rode toward her. Their leader appeared interested and stopped, gazing at her.
“Well look, a faery riding in our enchanted woods, lads.”
She wouldn’t deem them dangerous until they proved to be so. “Good day. I hope you can assist me.”
The tall lanky soldier grinned. “Aye, milady, we are at your service. What are you doing alone traipsing through our land?”
“Your land? Where might I be? I am trying to reach the Gunn keep or James’ father’s farmstead, whichever is closer,” she said, wearily, hoping and praying they would help her.
His brows rose and his mouth turned upward. “You’re on Gunn land, milady. James? Do you mean James Gunn, guardsman to the laird? Damn his fortune.”
“Aye, indeed I do. I need to get him to safety. Are you acquainted with the Gunns or James?”
The soldier nodded. His gaze changed from amusement to concern. “I am, och ye speak James’ name as if you know him.”
Emlyn turned in her seat. “Actually, I do. He’s in the back of the cart and in need of care. Can you direct me to either his father’s farmstead or the Gunn keep? Whichever is closer?”
The man didn’t answer but walked toward the back of the cart. He hoisted himself up onto the back and knelt next to James. “Christ Almighty, he’s out cold. What’d ye do to him, milady?”
“I did nothing to him. Marshall’s soldiers did that to him. Can you please tell me which direction I should go?” Emlyn was about to make threats she was sure to follow up on if he didn’t start answering her.
“James, it is me, Gordy. Can you hear me?” He shook him and James groaned.
“Don’t, his shoulder is hurt and his leg. I deem his back as well since he was lying on a bed of spikes.”
“Glory be, milady. What the hell happened to him?” The man whistled low.