Page 43 of Sins of a Scot
The sailor then shook his head. “Nae fer another four or five days. The water is bad over the next while. Ye’ll nae get anyone tae take ye. It’s just too risky.”
Iseabail looked visibly disappointed, and Owen could understand why. She didn’t have time to waste, and waiting nearly another week was bound to cause her to worry.
“I’m sorry, Iseabail,” he said.
She heaved a sigh. “It’s nae yer fault. Besides, I suppose there is little we can dae about it.”
Owen thanked the sailor once again, and the two returned to the tavern, their earlier excitement now entirely extinguished. They would have to wait it out, while every day, Iseabail would be forced to worry about the fate of her father and brother.
“Come on,” Owen said, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get some breakfast, and then we’ll decide what to do.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Iseabail was more than disheartened as they entered the tavern. The news the innkeeper had relayed to them last night had given her hope that she would be one step closer to discovering where she would find this crystal. Now, that hope had been dashed.
Maybe she ought to be saddened that a man had also lost his life, but she was too concerned about her father and brother’s wellbeing to be able to care that the merchant had drowned.
Owen returned to the table looking dejected, and dropping himself down beside her, he said, “The tavern has nay rooms available tonight. We’re going tae have tae move on.”
Iseabail nodded. “Well, wherever we go, can it be inland, for it is bound tae be warmer than here? I’m still cold even now.”
He nodded. “I agree. Besides, there’s naething much tae dae here. Fer yer sanity, I’m going tae have tae try and keep ye occupied.”
Iseabail looked at him then, and thinking of his consideration of her, a small smile formed on her lips. “Ye think I might go mad?” she said.
“I think we might both go mad. Even if we could stay here, all we could dae is pace back and forth in that tiny room fer a week, waiting for the sea tae calm. If that doesnae send a person mad, I dinnae ken what would.”
Plates with eggs and meat with bread arrived a little later, and the conversation was put on hold as they filled their bellies before their journey. Iseabail had no idea where they ought to go next, but Owen was not wrong. Being cooped up in a room for a week would hardly be suitable or productive.
Mounted upon their horses once more, Owen led the way, and they travelled in the same direction they had come, at least for a while. As predicted, the farther inland they journeyed, the warmer it became, and as Iseabail felt the significance of the absence of the coastal wind, she was grateful for the change in weather.
They had been travelling for several hours when a village came into view up ahead. It was nestled down a hill, and looked to be surrounded by open glens all around it.
“We should stop here and rest the horses,” Owen suggested, bringing his horse to a steady stop beside a large group of trees. “Perhaps a walk intae the village will dae us good. Besides, I dinnae ken about ye, but I’m starving.”
“Even after that great big feed this morning?” Iseabail said with a grin.
“Hey,” he said, dismounting and patting his flat stomach with a smirk. “I’m a growing lad.”
Iseabail shook her head. “I cannae imagine ye have much farther tae go.”
With a chuckle, Owen took hold of her by the waist and gently lifted her down from the horse. She held onto his thick arms, and as he slowly lowered her to the ground, Iseabail suddenly felt a little breathless at their proximity.
“Thank ye,” she breathed.
“Ye’re welcome,” he said, gazing down at her.
Their eyes locked, and the two lingered for just a second too long. Feeling a strange sensation in her stomach, Iseabail quickly turned away and took a swift step back. But as she did so, an agonizing pain shot through her ankle.
“Argh,” she screamed, jumping in fright. Something had bitten her; she was sure of it.
“What’s the matter?” Owen cried, his face a picture of astonishment.
Even while Iseabail knew she was injured, she couldn’t help but spin around to look at what might have caused it. In that second, she saw a snake with a zig zag pattern on its back quickly slithering away from them through the grass.
“Och, me God. A snake,” she squealed, now hobbling on her good leg.
“I saw it,” Owen blurted.
