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Authors: Bertrice Small
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by the fire. Ellen followed the stairs down into the kitchens, for she knew the door there was less likely to be barred, and she found she was right. The smell of baking bread assailed her nostrils as she slipped through the kitchens.
The cook appeared to be sleeping at the table, her head upon her folded arms. She did not stir as Ellen crept past her, but she was awake. Her loyalties had not yet been turned, and so she remained where she was, silent and motionless as she heard the door into the yard open and click shut. "Godspeed, lass," she whispered softly, and then dozed again until her bread would be finished.
Outside Ellen kept to the shadows as she hurried to the stables. She could see that the main gate was guarded, but she knew it was unlikely that the postern gate would be. Once inside the stables she moved cautiously, for she could not be certain where the stable lads would be, but hearing giggles from the hayloft she smiled. Finding her own horse, she quickly saddled the beast and led it from the building across the courtyard, keeping again to the shadows as she moved toward the postern gate. She could hear her own heart hammering as she slowly walked the short distance.
And then she gained the gate, and to her relief the key was where it had always been, and the gate hinges made no sound as she opened it and led her horse through. She locked the gate from the outside and pocketed its key with the other. Mounting the beast, she guided it carefully along the edge of the loch until she reached the narrow trail that would lead her south. She stopped a moment before urging her horse onto the trail, looking back across the water at the grim, dark outline of Lochearn Keep. Then, digging into her pocket, Ellen took the keys out and threw them one by one as far as she could out into the loch.
With the postern gate locked, and seemingly without a key, no one would think she had exited the keep that way. They would at first believe she was either still in the keep or had been helped by someone on the main gate. Few, if any, had ever used the postern gate, and fewer knew it had a key. It didn‘t matter if they finally figured it out or not. She would be long gone. As for her bedchamber, it would first be believed that Balgair MacArthur had locked the door from the inside and was enjoying his victory over the young heiress of Lochearn. But eventually sometime during the day Anice would become suspicious. She would demand that the door be opened, and when knocking produced no results, when no sound was heard from within the bedchamber, the door would finally be broken down. Balgair MacArthur‘s body would be
discovered, and all hell would break loose. But Ellen MacArthur would be long gone.
She urged her mount up onto the trail. A late waning moon had now risen, and the track was just barely visible as the horse picked its way up the hill. The night was cold but still. Above her the stars blazed in the black heavens. Ellen rested the animal a few moments when they had completed the steep climb. She gazed down through the trees, half-bare of their leaves with the coming winter. The keep stood out in stark relief against the night. Lochearn. Her home. Her home no more. Ellen knew with a deep certainty that she would never see it again. There was nothing left for her there. It was both frightening and exciting to realize that she had absolutely no idea of what the future would hold for her. If indeed she even had a future. The peaceful, settled life that she had always known would be hers was gone, and she could not imagine what would arise in its place. For now, however, her future entailed getting far away from Lochearn, and as quickly as she could. Balgair‘s men would not be kind if they caught her. She kicked her horse gently, urging it onward, hoping she could find Duncan Armstrong quickly.
Chapter 3
Ellen MacArthur rode slowly through the chill, dark night, the scant light from the waning moon just barely
The cook appeared to be sleeping at the table, her head upon her folded arms. She did not stir as Ellen crept past her, but she was awake. Her loyalties had not yet been turned, and so she remained where she was, silent and motionless as she heard the door into the yard open and click shut. "Godspeed, lass," she whispered softly, and then dozed again until her bread would be finished.
Outside Ellen kept to the shadows as she hurried to the stables. She could see that the main gate was guarded, but she knew it was unlikely that the postern gate would be. Once inside the stables she moved cautiously, for she could not be certain where the stable lads would be, but hearing giggles from the hayloft she smiled. Finding her own horse, she quickly saddled the beast and led it from the building across the courtyard, keeping again to the shadows as she moved toward the postern gate. She could hear her own heart hammering as she slowly walked the short distance.
And then she gained the gate, and to her relief the key was where it had always been, and the gate hinges made no sound as she opened it and led her horse through. She locked the gate from the outside and pocketed its key with the other. Mounting the beast, she guided it carefully along the edge of the loch until she reached the narrow trail that would lead her south. She stopped a moment before urging her horse onto the trail, looking back across the water at the grim, dark outline of Lochearn Keep. Then, digging into her pocket, Ellen took the keys out and threw them one by one as far as she could out into the loch.
With the postern gate locked, and seemingly without a key, no one would think she had exited the keep that way. They would at first believe she was either still in the keep or had been helped by someone on the main gate. Few, if any, had ever used the postern gate, and fewer knew it had a key. It didn‘t matter if they finally figured it out or not. She would be long gone. As for her bedchamber, it would first be believed that Balgair MacArthur had locked the door from the inside and was enjoying his victory over the young heiress of Lochearn. But eventually sometime during the day Anice would become suspicious. She would demand that the door be opened, and when knocking produced no results, when no sound was heard from within the bedchamber, the door would finally be broken down. Balgair MacArthur‘s body would be
discovered, and all hell would break loose. But Ellen MacArthur would be long gone.
She urged her mount up onto the trail. A late waning moon had now risen, and the track was just barely visible as the horse picked its way up the hill. The night was cold but still. Above her the stars blazed in the black heavens. Ellen rested the animal a few moments when they had completed the steep climb. She gazed down through the trees, half-bare of their leaves with the coming winter. The keep stood out in stark relief against the night. Lochearn. Her home. Her home no more. Ellen knew with a deep certainty that she would never see it again. There was nothing left for her there. It was both frightening and exciting to realize that she had absolutely no idea of what the future would hold for her. If indeed she even had a future. The peaceful, settled life that she had always known would be hers was gone, and she could not imagine what would arise in its place. For now, however, her future entailed getting far away from Lochearn, and as quickly as she could. Balgair‘s men would not be kind if they caught her. She kicked her horse gently, urging it onward, hoping she could find Duncan Armstrong quickly.
Chapter 3
Ellen MacArthur rode slowly through the chill, dark night, the scant light from the waning moon just barely
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