Page 113 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
The horses were so tired that they could no longer gallop, so they proceeded slowly and carefully at a trot or a walk until they came to a small stretch of marshy ground.
“We must leave the horses here,” Tearlach told Norah. “We leave them here so they will no’ draw attention tae the hideout, but as well as that it is dangerous for them to cross the marsh. We might be able to pick our way across this durin’ the day, but not at night. I have seen a horse gettin’ stuck in this mud an’ only just escapin’ wi’ its life. We can come back for them in the mornin’. The rest of our horses will be restin’ around here somewhere too.”
Norah dismounted quickly, eager to be on her way again, but when she turned to look at Tearlach she could see at once that her worst fears had been confirmed. He just about managed not to fall off the horse, but stumbled as his feet hit the ground and landed on his knees on the grass.
Norah rushed over to him to kneel beside him. He was moaning piteously and was holding his hand to his right shoulder, his face contorted with agony. As she gently moved his hand away she could see that a great patch of blood had spread over his shirt, and more was trickling out by the second.
“My God, Tearlach!” she cried. “Why did you not let me tend to this?”
“The redcoats wouldnae let me,” he replied, with a grim attempt at humor.
“We have not seen or heard a redcoat for miles!” Norah replied angrily. She examined the wound as best she could in the dim light, shaking her head. She had nothing to bind it with, so she tore a strip off the bottom of her linen petticoat and rolled it up so that she could make a pad out of it, then she pressed it to the wound. It was the best she could do, although it was nowhere near enough.
“Come on,” she urged. “We must reach your hideout as fast as we can. Will there be anyone there who can help you?”
“I hope so,” Tearlach whispered faintly. “One o’ our lads is a healer. We cannot stop now, anyway, Norah. We will both hang now, if we are caught.”
The words struck terror into Norah’s heart, but she knew that they had no time to lose. Now she was a wanted criminal, but she had got into this state of her own accord and had no one else to blame. She wrestled the thought out of her mind. She had other things to worry about now.
Somehow, with a concerted effort, they managed to raise Tearlach to his feet. He stood swaying for a moment, his eyes closed, face screwed up in pain.
Norah looked up into the face that had always been so dear to her. She could hardly bear to see him in such agony, so she put her shoulder under his arm then began to lead him, painfully slowly, in the right direction. If determination could get them to their destination, she thought, they had nothing to fear; Norah had enough for both of them.
After half an hour or so, every part of Norah was sore. Her shoulder ached from the strain of the weight of Tearlach’s large upper body, her feet were blistered from walking in the wrong shoes and her legs hurt from the constant effort of pulling them out of the mud. As well as all her physical suffering, she was finding it very difficult to listen to Tearlach’s grunts and groans of pain, which were another kind of torture to her.
“Not far now,” Norah encouraged him. “Then we will see your friends and get this ball out of your shoulder. I am sure they will be glad to see you too.”
Tearlach appreciated that Norah was trying to egg him on and keep his spirits up, but he wished that she would just be quiet, because her constant flow of chatter was really beginning to annoy him. However, he gritted his teeth and kept quiet, since he knew that he would hurt her, and she did not deserve that. No one else he knew would ever help him at such risk to themselves.
They struggled on, and at last Tearlach said the words Norah had been longing to hear.
“We are nearly there,” he said hoarsely. He nodded in the direction of a small hill which was surrounded by thick trees. “Through those trees is a half-ruined hut, and behind it there is a man-made cave that was dug out ages ago so that a number of men could hide in it.” The effort of telling her all this had exhausted him, and he leaned on her even more heavily as they went into the woods.
Norah could hardly stand up under his weight now, and just as she felt her knees beginning to buckle she saw the sandstone walls of a small cottage. It was in bad shape, since the shutters on the windows were splintered and the thatch in dire need ofrepair. At that moment, however, it was as good as a palace. They had reached their destination.
Now, with one last heroic effort, Norah staggered towards the sturdy wooden door, which seemed to be the only part of the building that was in good repair.
Norah knocked the panels as hard as she could.
“Lads! It is Tearlach. Can ye let me in?” Tearlach called out.
A moment later, the door opened and Tearlach fell over the threshold.
13
As Tearlach fell, he took Norah with him, and for a few seconds the world around her was a confused jumble as the earthen floor came up to meet her and she fell onto it with a jarring thump that vibrated through her whole body.
Nevertheless, she scrambled to her feet at once, and squealed in fright as she found two daggers pointed at her, wielded by a couple of extremely fierce-looking men with long dark hair and full shaggy beards. They resembled each other so closely that they were obviously brothers, but as Norah shrank back from them they lowered their weapons, seeing that she was an unarmed woman who could do them no harm.
Moreover, they recognised Tearlach straight away, and seemed greatly concerned for him. As they bent down to see him better Norah noticed the concerned expressions on their faces, and realized that these men were true comrades.
Norah counted four men. The other two grimaced as they saw the bloody bullet hole in Tearlach’s shoulder.
“How did ye dae this, Tearlach?” one of them asked, as he squatted down by his friend’s side. He was a tall fair man, with a scar along one of his cheekbones who looked every inch a warrior, but his touch was gentle as he probed the wound.
“He caught a bullet an’ shoved it into the back of his shoulder!” The other man was obviously worried too, but his way of dealing with pain was with grim humor, something that Norah noticed seemed to be common among men of this kind.
Norah watched as the first man tenderly examined Tearlach’s wound, but the sight of the injury made her screw her eyes shut and his moaning made her feel like weeping too. She was desperately worried.
