Having not known the extent of the damage to the keep, Fiona had half hoped to find Annie here. But now she doubted such would be the case. With no protection from the elements, remaining in the castle would be just as dangerous as a horde of dragoons making camp on the lawn.
Except… Were those riders?
Fiona squinted, trying to get a better look at the riders leaving the castle, cloaked mostly in muted colors. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say they were not dragoons. There wasn’t a single speck of red.
A lone rider peeled off toward the west, and the band of four went east. Fiona’s gut told her to follow the single rider, smaller than most male soldiers. Could it be Annie?
She was at too far a distance to call out, but not too far to follow. Down the rise she rode, in the direction of who she hoped was her friend, for she was fairly certain it was Annie.
Annie did not stick entirely to the road, which made following her a bit difficult, but Fiona was always up for a challenge.
At last, she watched from a discreet distance as Annie unlatched a gate and led her horse onto a crofter’s property, only to be greeted by a squealing woman who Fiona recognized as Annie’s maid, Eppy.
They both went into the house. Fiona circled the property to make sure they weren’t being watched, and then she too unlatched the gate. Urging her horse through, she was greeted by a large black hound with bared teeth that looked ready to start barking his head off.
“Hello, my friend,” Fiona said. “I mean no harm, lad.” She reached into the saddle bag and pulled out a strip of jerky, hoping it worked as well for this hound as it had for the one in the forest. “I’m friends with Annie.”
The dog cautiously approached, tail wagging slightly. He sniffed the meat, looking up into her eyes, asking her silently if she was serious. Fiona smiled. “Take it.”
He was quick to snatch the jerky and ran several yards away just to make sure she couldn’t take it back. With one last cautious look, Fiona made her way to the door of the croft and gave it two short raps.
“Who is it?” Annie’s voice rang out through the door, and Fiona sighed with momentary relief, having been afraid this entire time that perhaps her mind had been playing tricks on her.
“Annie, ’tis me, Fiona.”
The door was yanked wide, revealing Annie MacPherson. Her dark hair looked to have been swept up in a bun at some point but hung in loose tendrils around her face, and her amber eyes flashed disbelief.
“Come in, quick.” Annie peered over Fiona’s shoulder as she ushered her inside. “How did ye find me?” Annie closed the door.
Eppy set down the fire poker she’d been brandishing, revealing an older woman who stood behind her. Both looked relieved to see it was only Fiona.
“I followed ye back from Cullidunloch this morning, but I promise that I wasna followed.” Fiona studied the croft, taking in the sight of more than a dozen recovering soldiers. Some in worse shape than others. So it had been Annie she’d seen on the battlefield.
Fiona was going to have her work cut out for her in getting Annie and these men to safety. But one thing was for sure: they couldn’t stay here. Not with what she’d witnessed on the road. That croft with Jacobite soldiers and the lone woman who’d been executed could have easily been these inhabitants here. After they’d had some time to catch up, Fiona finally broached the topic.
“I came to relay a message. The redcoats are searching the countryside for any remaining Jacobites. They’ve received orders from the Butcher to slaughter anyone with allegiance to the prince.”
“Nay…” Annie’s hand pressed to her chest and she looked ready to collapse at the news, eyes darting to every man in the room, in particular one who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Beneath the bruises and beard, he looked to be handsome in a rugged sort of way.
“Aye,” Fiona said. “They went through the field and killed those who’d yet to be rescued, and a neighboring cottage which housed many of the injured, they…” Emotion welled in Fiona’s chest.
“Ye need say no more, I understand.”
“Ye’re no’ safe here. I want ye to come with me. I’ll give ye a few moments to pack up your things.” Fiona prayed that Annie would leave with her now, but seeing the men who lay helpless, she knew it would be a feat to get her friend to agree.
As predicted, Annie argued, “I canna leave the wounded at the mercy of the Butcher’s men, and I canna leave Mrs. Sullivan. I brought the soldiers here, and I put her in danger. They are all my responsibility.”
There were at least seven injured men that Fiona could see. Some who lay beneath blankets, and a couple upright, leaning against the walls for support. The latter group were still healing, but those who lay asleep… There would be nothing moving them for now save death.
“How?” Fiona practically choked on the question, the woman she’d seen shot at the last croft suddenly evolving into Annie.
Annie rubbed at her head with fingers that were red and raw. “I dinna know. But we canna leave yet. No’ until everyone is able to walk out of here.”
“Please, Annie. Ye must leave afore then. Some of these men willna be able to stand for weeks.” She took her friend’s hand in hers, hoping to persuade her, knowing all the while it would be futile.
Annie squeezed her hand back, then dropped her hold. “I canna leave without them, Fiona. I willna. I know the risk of remaining behind.”
Something inside Fiona’s chest felt like it was shattering. God, if Annie weren’t so honorable… If only she were a little bit more selfish.
There was only one thing she could do—make certain her friend remained safe and warn her of any redcoats in the area. The danger would be worse for her, because if the men were to get close then Fiona would distract them, risking her own life in the process. “I will be your eyes and ears, then. I’ll make certain ye’re the first to know if they are coming closer.”
Annie shook her head. “Nay, ye’ve got to get your messages out. I canna take ye away from your duty. We’ll be fine. Eppy and I can manage.”
One of the men in the corner pushed himself to standing and volunteered to help. Annie tried to argue with him, making an example of the bearded man who stared at her with an intensity even Fiona could feel.
And then another man stood, volunteering. And another.
After denying the handsome wounded soldier who she addressed as Lieutenant, Annie faced Fiona, a frown marring her features as she offered her food and a place to rest.
“I am hungry and in need of a few minutes’ rest, but truly, Annie, I would like nothing more than for all of us to leave right now. However”—she glanced at the seriously wounded—“I can see that would be impossible at the moment. Perhaps I can take at least the men who can move and deliver them to a safer location?”