“Nay. I will make better time by myself. I’ll see ye back at Black Dawn.”
“The lass is a lot of trouble, and she isn’t even conscious.” Duncan chuckled. “Canna imagine what it’s going to be like once she is alert.”
Roderick gave Duncan a half-smile. “Of that, you and I agree. But she is mine, and I dinna appreciate someone takin’ her from me.”
Siena awoke to suffocating heat.
She was bundled up much too tight. A flicker of apprehension coursed through her. She needed air. And she needed it now!
“Let me out!” she cried. When she received no response, she began thrashing until her arms were free. How dare Roderick treat her as a sack of grain. Had something happened for him to change his mind? He’d been so gentle when he bandaged her arm this morning . . . now this.
Finally, her head and arms were free of the blanket, and when she could see it wasn’t Roderick, she punched the person who held her. “I said to let me out!” She landed a blow to the man’s jaw. Her panic had given her strength of two men. The man’s head jerked back, and he swore and loosened his grip.
“I cannot hold her,” the stranger called out as his horse danced around in a circle. Finally, the animal reared, throwing both of them to the ground.
Siena landed on her back, knocking the breath from her body. It took several gasps before she could breathe again. She didn’t recognize these men, so she figured they were some of her brother’s thugs. But what disturbed her most was that she had no knowledge of being put on a horse or how she ended up here. She vaguely remembered bathing in a stream this morning, but nothing more.
She realized her fever had broken because her arms were damp from sweat, and her head didn’t hurt as it once had. At least she could think clearly now that her mind wasn’t in such a haze. However, she had no idea how she was going to get out of this mess.
“W--where is Laird Scott?”
“Dead, we hope,” said one of the men.
She swallowed hard. Roderick couldn’t be dead, surely these men were lying.
The other man, a dark-skinned soldier said, “Get the White Witch. We need to make time lest our brothers were not successful in killing the Devil’s Laird.”
“Who are you?” she repeated as she scrambled to her feet and backed away. A wave of apprehension swept through her. She knew she was still weak because she hurt all over but fight them she would. There was no way she would go with these men.
“We were instructed to bring the White Witch to Lord Malcolm,” replied the man who had been holding her.
Siena had heard people call her the White Witch before, but she’d never been sure what they meant. However, if these two men thought her a witch, maybe she could use it to her advantage.
Slowly, she straightened and raised her arms over her head. She smiled benignly, as if dealing with temperamental children. She took a deep breath and began to chant in a loud dead voice.
“Whatever evil comes to me.
May it be returned to you three times three.”
She pointed at the men.
“To whoever sent you, so mote it be.
That death will come to you and he.”
She broke out in hysterical laughter and twirled around for effect. Her black hair swished straight out as she spun around.
“D--did you hear that James?” the man sputtered. “She is putting a curse on us.”
It took two tries before James managed to mount his horse because his foot kept slipping. “Aye. Let’s get out of here.”
Siena started toward them her hands held out in front of her, repeating her chant. She’d never seen men move so fast as they jerked their horses around and galloped away from her.
That was rather fun.
Siena let her breath out slowly. A little too late, she realized that she should have demanded they leave her a horse. However, she couldn’t stay here so she turned and started back the way she’d come, or the way she thought they had come. She wasn’t sure what she would find, but the other way would take her back to her home and she definitely didn’t want to go back there.
This was the second time in the last few days she’d taken up for herself, and she really liked the feeling of power. A sense of strength came to her and her despair lessened. She swore that from this day forth, she would take care of herself and would never be at the mercy of a man ever again.
Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other, even though they felt very heavy, and headed down the road. She hoped the men were lying about Roderick being dead. She wasn’t sure she was worth his effort to save her a second time. Still, she hoped he had Agatha and would be looking for her.
Roderick couldn’t remember when he’d felt such an urgency to find someone other than his family, and that had not turned out well. He would kill the men if they had hurt Siena. He kept reminding himself to be reasonable, but he wasn’t listening to himself. Siena was his. And he’d never cared for men taking what belonged to him.
Hercules cantered down the path until Roderick pulled the beast to a halt. He dismounted and checked the ground to see if the tracks were fresh. Rubbing his hand across the dirt, he felt the impressions. There appeared to be two riders, so overcoming them would be simple. Nothing like a good fight, he thought as he mounted.
He nudged Hercules with his heels and they were off down the wood covered road. He’d been traveling for a while and growing more irritated by the moment that he’d not caught up with the bandits. Then he spotted someone up ahead.
At last.
Roderick halted ten yards in front of the person. He sensed a trap. However, it appeared to be Siena standing in the middle of the road all by herself with no one around. He reached behind him and pulled out a long dagger and laid it on his leg, so no one could see the weapon.
“Are you alone, Siena?” Roderick shouted.
“Yes.”
“Saints above!” he swore to himself. “How had she escaped?” he asked his horse, not expecting a response, but dumbfounded at what he was seeing. She looked like she was taking a stroll down the road. Not very steady, as she was swaying from side to side, but she was on her feet. A great accomplishment, considering he’d last seen her lying on his plaid.
Roderick slipped his knife back in place. He dismounted and walked the short distance over to her. Hercules followed him. He took in her disheveled appearance before he asked, “Are ye hurt?”
“You came for me,” she said with a surprised expression. And then she smiled. It was the first time he had seen her do so, and his heart swelled with feelings he’d thought long dead.
“Aye, I came for ye,” Roderick replied. “You are my …” He started to say prisoner, but she wasn’t exactly that. “Ah, wull, ye are mine, and I always take care of what belongs to me.”
He saw surprise on her face as she said, “Thank you.”
There was something odd about this woman. He was glad to see both her eyes were open and clear. He knew the fever had passed. One eye still had a blue-colored bruise, but the swelling had gone down. “Where are the men who took ye?”
“Gone back the way they came.”
Something really wasn’t making any sense to him. Why would they go through the trouble of taking her, and then let her go? He would wait and ask her more questions on the ride home. “Here, let me help you in the saddle. I’m glad to see yer fever is gone.” He placed his hands on her small waist and lifted her up onto Hercules, and then mounted behind her.