Part 53 (1/2)

As Fayth was thrust into the saddle before him she wished for free hands and big dirk. She trembled with ill-contained rage, her thoughts murderous. His face was in her hair, his mouth near her ear. She jerked away and almost tumbled from the horse. He guffawed as she fought to right herself.

His mouth was there again. ”Alex never told ye, la.s.s?”

”Told me what?”

He spurred the horse forward. ”That I was the one that did the deed.” When she didn't respond, he murmured, ”Fancy that.”

Why Alex would protect the b.a.s.t.a.r.d behind her was a mystery, but he had and this was how Eliot repaid his friends.h.i.+p. It sickened her.

”Alex is your kin, your friend. How can you do him such a turn?”

”My friend?” Eliot spat. ”He's naught but a thief, an outlaw. No better than me or anyone else and yet he thinks he deserves Gealach, that it should be all his.”

”That's what Ridley promised you, isn't it? Gealach?”

”What if it is?”

”Then you're a bigger fool than I thought. He's using you.”

Eliot smacked the back of her head. ”Shut up. I'm sick of yer prattle.”

Fayth pressed her lips together, staring blindly ahead. There must be a way to escape. She wiggled her wrists, but the hemp tying them was secure. She couldn't believe she'd thought Alex a murderer and all along it was the loch-sc.u.m behind her who'd killed Jack. Everything she knew of Alex proved he wouldn't kill indiscriminately. She had seen that, had been confused by it. She wished he'd told her that Eliot was the one who'd ruined her life and murdered Wesley's best friend. The will to revenge swelled in her, near to bursting. She must act or she would faint from the pressure.

Fayth's anger and desperation was such that wild schemes began to fill her mind. She tried to school herself for calm, to think and consider each move reasonably. But reason had fled. She was captive of the monster who had murdered Jack. She was being taken to Carlisle to wed. She refused to suffer any man but Alex's touch. She considered nothing too drastic to extricate herself from this situation.

They had skirted the trees and were traveling near the coast. The road was high above the sh.o.r.eline, descending sharply into a rocky sh.o.r.e. Fayth gauged how badly she would be hurt if she threw herself from the horse. How far could she run, before they caught her? The possibility of breaking an arm or leg-or neck-was high. Or smas.h.i.+ng her face up. She would chance a broken arm or a marred face if it meant success.

Eliot's arm brushed her fingers as he adjusted his grip on the reins. Her hands curled into fists. Of course. She wouldn't go down alone.

The blood pumped furiously through her veins, her heart hammered against her chest, but she remained still, watching for the right place to execute her plan. Ahead there was a break in the sharp rocks-a trail-leading to the beach below. In one swift movement Fayth grabbed Eliot's arm and threw herself back and to the right. He inhaled sharply, sliding off the saddle, but to her horror he managed to catch himself, yanking his arm easily from her grip. Fayth kept going, headfirst, the ground rus.h.i.+ng up to her face, then she was jerked to a halt. Eliot caught her around the knee.

His horse, however, did not appreciate this new fas.h.i.+on of riding and reared up angrily. Eliot released her to grab at the reins and Fayth crashed headfirst to the ground. She couldn't get her hands up quickly enough to protect her head. Lights burst through her skull, her shoulder jarring painfully as she rolled onto her back. The horse screamed and Fayth forced her eyes open in time to see flailing hooves near her face. She jerked her head back just as Eliot spilled to the ground beside her.

Pain wracked her body, but she had to move. Eliot was clearly dazed. She rose to her knees and s.n.a.t.c.hed his dirk from his boot, clutching it tightly in her hands. She struggled to her feet. Without looking back, she ran for the break in the rocks, gripping the dirk tightly in her bound fists.

Though she didn't hear immediate pursuit, she knew they would not be far behind. She must find a place to hide. She staggered along the path, her knee nearly giving way, her head pounding dully, her filthy and torn skirts catching on the jagged rocks. On the beach she stayed close to the rocky outcropping, so no one could see her from the road. A cl.u.s.ter of boulders was ahead. Fayth hurried into them, sinking down to her knees behind one. Her kneecaps throbbed brightly and she noticed a crimson stain midway down her skirts.

Fayth manipulated the dirk until the blade was pointed toward her body, sliding it beneath the hemp rope. She began to saw awkwardly, her hands shaking so she almost dropped the dirk.

Calm. She must remain calm. If she did not succeed, she might never see Alex again. That one thought sustained her. She must race to Annancreag-to Alex.

The dirk sliced her fingers and palms, poked at her forearm, but she kept at it, even as blood slicked her hands, making it more and more difficult.

”Come out, wee la.s.sie,” Eliot called and not but a hundred feet away. ”If ye dinna come out, I'll beat ye senseless when I find ye.”

In her panic, the dirk slid from her wet fingers and clattered to the stones. It sounded like gla.s.s shattering to Fayth's ears. She yanked hard at the bindings and felt them give. The surf roared, obscuring any sounds of approach. Fayth tried to force her arms apart with all her might, pain stabbing through her wounded arm. The rope snapped and coiled to the ground around her knees.

Fayth twisted around just as Eliot ventured into her hiding place. His eyes lit on her, noting the cut rope and bloodied dirk. Fayth lunged for it. He ran at her. Fayth's hand closed around the hilt, but his boot kicked her hand, sending pain radiating up her arm and the dirk scuttling across the rocks.

Fayth leaped for it again, scrabbling across the pebble-and rock-strewn ground like a crab. She grasped the hilt again just as his boot connected with her rib cage. The air whooshed out of her as she rolled away, still clutching the dirk. She moaned, her vision black, trying desperately to breathe and get to her feet. He grabbed a wad of her hair and hauled her up.