“Oh but I—”
“You should,” agreed Kaetha, positioning herself to one side of her and lying down on the cold, soft earth, twisting her body awkwardly so as to avoid the juttings of tree roots. They were quiet for a while, as they settled down for the night. Kaetha’s eyelids were heavy but she didn’t feel like she would be able to sleep.
“I think that tomorrow, we should make for the path which takes us south-west, following the course of the road,” said Mairi. “I have a cousin in Calamor. Her husband has a smallholding. They’d take us in. We’d be safe there.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Kaetha. “You two should go there.”
“I meant all of us.”
“I can’t,” said Kaetha. “I’ve already told you.”
“So, what do you plan to do exactly?” asked Donnan.
“I don’t know.”
“You said Murdo’s taking him to the king,” said Donnan. “We’re behind and on foot. We can’t intercept them.”
“I want him back as much as you do,” said Mairi. “He’s my husband. But – what? – storming the citadel dungeon on the remote chance that you’ll find him there? It would be signing your own death warrant, Kaetha. Maybe there’s nothing we can do.”
“Perhaps not. But I’m still heading south to Ciadrath.”
For what seemed like hours, Kaetha lay there, listening to the wind in the trees. The snatches of sleep that she did get were invaded by the sight of her father, blood dripping down the side of his face, reaching out to her. This time, she tried to call for help. But no one could hear her because she was underwater and couldn’t move. Her throat tightened and she woke, gasping for breath. It took her a moment to remember where she was. The sky was a tangle of dark grey strips through the branches above her. It would be dawn soon; she should try to stay awake. But her eyelids were heavy. As she strained to keep them open, she saw someone with dark eyes and a tangle of dark hair, watching her through the branches. But when she blinked, he was gone. Perhaps he was just a dream too.
Donnan shook her awake and she sat up. “How did I end up in the middle?” she said.
“You were shivering a lot in the night,” said Mairi. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the privy.”
“Shh—” Donnan held Mairi back.
Kaetha heard it now too. The crunch of dry leaves. She peered through the gaps in the branches in front of her. It was not Cailean. Whoever it was, wore a dress, so at least it wouldn’t be Murdo or one of his men. Then she saw her face, pale and somehow older looking than normal. “Elspet!” she exclaimed in a hushed tone and she emerged, twigs scratching her face as she rushed over to embrace her friend.
“We must be near Ravens’ Knowe then,” said Mairi. “Thank you for coming, lass.”
“Where’s Cailean?” asked Donnan.
“He thought he was being followed so I made him go back.”
“Look out for him, Elspet,” said Kaetha. “He has to be careful.”
Elspet nodded. “As do you. Do you know where you’re going to go?”
Kaetha, Mairi and Donnan looked at one another.
“I think it’s better that you don’t know,” Kaetha replied. “But don’t worry, we know of somewhere safe.”
“Good. Here.” She held out two bags. “There’s oats and other food, skins for water and some other things that we thought you might find useful.”
“Thank you.” Kaetha took the supplies, the smell of bread making her mouth water. “Look out for Kintail, will you? Though, come to think of it, I’ve not seen him since the storm. But he may come back. He can hunt for himself but, if you see him—”
“We’ll make sure he’s not going hungry.”
“And Bairn?” said Mairi. “Cailean said that he’d look after him.”
“Aye, we’ve brought him to our house. He’s already very protective of the baby. We’re calling her Kittie, by the way. My grandmother was Katherine and we know that Donnan calls you Kit. So we thought that ‘Kittie’ would be like naming her for both of you.”
Kaetha was taken aback and couldn’t reply except with a nod.
“There’s Lossie and Arrow to think of, too,” said Mairi.
“We’ll care for them,” said Elspet. “We’ll need them if we’re to carry on the business anyway. If you don’t mind, that is.”
“No, carry on as before,” said Kaetha. “Look after yourselves.”
“You too,” said Elspet, hugging Kaetha again.
“Thank you.” She wished suddenly that Rorie had come with her so that she could say goodbye to him. She considered sending a message for him by Elspet but, she reasoned, there was really nothing to say. She might not see any of them again.
“Good luck,” said Elspet, “and a fair wind to your sails, as Pa would say. I’ll get Nannie to keep an eye on you.”
As they headed south through the woods, Kaetha turned back to see Elspet disappearing amongst the ferns and branches. Ahead was the small clearing they’d been heading towards last night, a grassy mound with ravens cawing, staring down from branches around it, like mourners at a burial. Kaetha bowed her head when a raven stared directly at her, willing it to send her good luck rather than bad.
They skirted Ravens’ Knowe in silence, picking their way through the woodland floor which bristled with coiled brambles and beds of stinging nettles. A deer trail took them through easier ground but wound about considerably until it reached a path.
“More chance of being seen on the path,” said Donnan.
“But at least we’d know we were heading the right way,” said Kaetha.
As they followed the path, Mairi’s gaze darted nervously from a pine marten scratching in
