Page 8 of Highlander's Escaped Prisoner
“I will make a vow too,” she said grimly. “If you break your oath, I will hunt you down and kill you, no matter how long it takes.”
Bryce could not see her in the darkness, but he was sure that Nessa’s eyes would look as hard as flint. He was beginning to realize that she was not a typical gentle maiden of the upper class but a woman of determination and purpose.
“Very well,” he replied politely. “Mistress, may I ask one more favor?”
“If you must,” Nessa sighed. “Only please let this be the last.”
“May I wash in the burn outside?” he asked.
“Now that is one favor I am happy to grant,” she answered promptly, laughing. “I have smelled more fragrant pigsties!”
5
Nessa untied Bryce just long enough for him to bathe in the freezing waters of the burn. She heard him shivering, but he did not complain about the cold as he scrubbed himself with his fingernails and a large, rough pebble. Nessa was not sure whether to be glad or sad when he came out of the water. He was completely naked and dripping wet, but she could see no more than his outline, which saved them both much embarrassment.
The rain had stopped as Nessa led Bryce back into the darkness of the shed.
“I am going back to the castle for some supplies,” she informed him. “I am very hungry, and I am sure that you are too. I will not be long. Stay here and do not move, and not a sound,” she said sternly. She had debated the idea of lashing his feet together, but in the end, she closed and barred the door.
Bryce sat miserably, contemplating his situation for a while. His wrists were chafed and bleeding, his leg was stinging with pain, and his shirt was soaking wet since he had dried himself withit. He reflected on his disastrous day for a while, then closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
It was almost dawn by the time Nessa reached her home at Drumblane Castle, and the household was already beginning to stir. She had made a list in her mind of all the items she would need to take with her, so she was ready to seize what she needed in the kitchen and disappear before the cooks, and kitchen maids realized she had been there.
She left Jo tethered to the nearest tree. “Now, not a sound, my boy,” she whispered, kissing his nose. Jo whickered a little but nodded his head as if he understood. Nessa took a deep breath. “You can do this, Nessa,” she told herself firmly before she began her slow and silent approach to the castle.
She knew the position of all the escape tunnels, which every castle needed in case of a siege, so she crept into the nearest one. The darkness was thick and black, and shivers of dread ran up her spine, but she knew that this one was only a hundred yards long and led straight to the kitchen.
Eventually, she saw a chink of light at the end of the passage and heard the noise of two strident female voices coming from behind the hidden panel at the end of the tunnel.
The cook, Fee, was obviously discussing her with one of her kitchen maids.
“Everybody has been searchin’ high an’ low for her. The laird is beside himself!”
“She was always one for gettin’ her own way.” There was a sigh, and Nessa recognized the voice of Hannah, who had been in their service since she was a small girl. “There is no bad in her, but she is stubborn as a mule.”
The two women went on grumbling for a while, then Hannah left to take a tray up to the laird, and Jimmy, one of the gardeners, came into the kitchen. “The laird is sendin’ out search parties, Fee,” he told her, and Nessa could almost hear him shaking his gray head. “That wee lady is more trouble than a wolf in a flock of sheep! Out wi’ the men on patrol, indeed! She will be daein’ wrestlin’ bouts wi’ the men soon, an’ she will win!”
“Only if they find her, Jimmy,” Fee sighed. “An’ if anythin’ happens tae that lassie, I dinnae know what will happen tae the laird. First his wife, then his brother, then his daughter. The poor, poor man.”
Nessa was stabbed by a huge sword of guilt at the cook’s words and wished that she could rush upstairs to tell him what was happening to alleviate his suffering in some measure, but something held her back. She had made a promise to Bryce, and he to her, and she intended to keep her word. She would be back in a few days—or hopefully a few hours if all went well—and she knew that it would all be worth it in the end. At least, that was what she told herself.
“Time tae pick the turnips, Jimmy,” Fee said, sighing. “A’ those men will need feedin’!”
They left the kitchen to go outside, and Nessa seized her chance. She grabbed whatever food she could find—bread, cheese, apples, a flask of ale, and a whole black pudding—then stuffed it in her backpack and ran.
She reached her bedroom by one of the many secret passages that had been built into the castle walls and entered it, feeling its familiarity wrap her in a warm blanket of comfort.
If only I could stay here!she thought, but she knew that every minute counted. She grabbed a few warm clothes from her wardrobe and a thick blanket for Bryce, then filled a pouch with some silver she kept in a locked drawer.
Nessa thanked her forefathers for their ingenuity as she scrambled through the dark passage to the kitchen. However, at that moment, fate decided to turn against her as Fee came into the kitchen, her arms full of turnips.
“Mistress!” she cried, dropping the vegetables onto the floor. Her eyes were wide with shock. “Where—”
“Tell my father I am safe!” Nessa said urgently as she turned on her heel and ran, leaving Fee to stand looking after her, wondering if she had just seen a ghost.
Drumblane Castle had been built for battles and sieges, so its escape routes were both ingenious and invisible, and she knew every one.
In less than a minute, she was heading back to Bryce as fast as Jo could carry her. The rim of the sun was just beginning to appear over the horizon, and soon the laird would be sending out search parties to look for her. She needed to put as much distance between them as possible.
