Hannah & The Highlander [Book 1 in the time travel series]

Chapter Fifteen: Plan

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Chapter Fifteen: Plan



@Hannah's P.O.V.@



I ended up telling them every fairy tale and fable I knew, from Cinderella and Snow White to the Frog and the Scorpion and the Three Little Pigs. They ate up my stories. The boys were dazzled by Jack and the Bean Stalk and Robin Hood. Susan became attached to me, her arms were always around my waist, a keen gleam in her eyes as she took in my every word. I lost count of the minutes and the hours we spent crammed inside the cage, time had melded together and become meaningless. All I knew was that my bladder ached, my butt was sore and I needed something to eat and drink, like, yesterday.



I learned all of the names of the other four women; Deana, who came from a place called Applecross, which was a small village near the border; there was Kathleen and Rebecca from a village by Loch Tay. And lastly was Leah, the most battered and haunted of any of them, she never spoke or moved from her spot in the far corner. She just sat there, gazing into nothingness. I was scared for her, for whatever it was that she saw every time she closed her eyes.



I was in the middle of Beauty and the Beast when the carriage came to an abrupt stop. I stiffened, waiting as I listened to the soft crunch of footfalls on dry leaves. The cover was tossed aside and Mr. Piggy stood there, something leathery and kidney shaped in his hand. My love of BBC historical movies told me it was a water skin. He shoved it through the bars, thrusting at Kathleen.



" 'ere! One mouthful each, no more! Git on w'th it now! 'Urry up, get a move on!"


It didn't take much more prompting. The skin was passed around, we let the children drink before exchanging it between ourselves. When the skin made its way to me, I held it to my lips and relished the cool liquid as it slid soothingly down my parched throat. At that moment not even the coldest Pepsi on this earth could match the delirious goodness of water I was drinking. I swallowed slowly, gasping as it soothed the dry fire there.



Once everyone's thirst was satisfied, Mr. Piggy tossed in a chunk of bread, it bounced on the ground with a loud thunk. I picked it up, noting the rock hard condition of the bread. The bastard expected us to eat stale bread that was hard enough to break my teeth? I bottled up my reply and went about dividing the meager meal. It tasted funny and was hard to chew but it got rid of the pains in my stomach. But still really had to pee!



I glanced towards Claire, whispering lowly;



"Does he ever let us, well, you know, use the, er, chamber pot or whatever?"



Claire smiled wanly as she shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Sometimes when we've chanced by an inn, we sleep in the stables whilst he sleeps. That's near all the privacy we get for that like."



I frowned, the wheels of my mind turning at her words. "Will we be staying at an inn tonight? Do you know?"



"I heard 'im say something 'bout a lil inn ten or so miles from the border. We should reach it a dusk," Kathleen said as she nibbled on a corner of the bad bread.



I did the math. The chances were slim but I wasn't about to be sold into slavery. If we played our cards right and acted fast it could, possibly, work.



"Okay. I know what we gotta do," I announced as I chucked the remaining bits of bread to the ground.



"Whot yew goin' on 'bout?" Rebecca asked as she watched me closely.



"When we reach that inn," I whispered, drawing all eyes to me. "We are escaping, and we are going back to Scotland."



And I am going to find Caitriona and rip her hair out!




@Cailen's P.O.V.@




When Cailen reached the MacKinnon keep, he was met by the bastard himself. Along with about twenty archers, thirty spearman and fifty on horse back brandished with claymores and shields. A fierce fire was licking at the edges of Cailen's frantically beating heart as he road towards the castle. Visions of driving his sword through the cowards' belly danced prettily through his minds' eye. His hand gripping his claymore twitched at the thought. An unnatural force of violence fueled by fury surged through him. The savage beat that had been slumbering was awake and demanded blood for what was taken from him.



He brought his company to a halt, yanking roughly on the reins, bringing his stallion to a stop, his steely gaze meeting the mocking expression MacKinnon wore. The coward was positioned behind his archers, running his horse to and thro behind their protective line.



"I knew ye would come! An' with a meager army as well! All this for one lass? I almost regret not keeping her."



A fierce spurt of anger coursed through Cailen, hot and furious devouring his resolve to be rational.



"What hae ye done wi' her, ye son of a whore!? I'll rip this keep stone by stone, board by board! An' if she is nae here I will score the highlands and the borders! If she is nae in Scotland, I will ravage every village and town in Britain until I do! Now, where is Hannah!?" He bellowed as he did his best to control his agitated steed.



MacKinnon tried to look undaunted by the other lairds' threats, but he was not the best of actors.



"I-I sold her!"



"You SOLD her!?" Cailen growled, the savage beast within him was shaking the bars of its cage, begging to come out to kill, to ravage and sow chaos. Cailen fought to keep his darker side in check but it was a loosing battle. "To whom did ye sell her, you son of a cod? Tell me, and I will spare yer keep and take only yer life!"



MacKinnon blanched. Damn, that hellcat! Damn, Caitriona to the darkest and dankest pit in Hades! And damn the little chit as well! MacKinnon reached for his sword, he fumbled the blade in his haste, the weapon falling to the ground. Chaos broke out at that moment, like rabid dogs Cailen and his men launched themselves to attack their enemy clan.



A bloodthirsty melody of battle broke, a symphony of clashing swords, and savage war cries. None fought more aggressively than Cailen, like a man possessed by some demonic entity he cut down men from his path as though they were stocks of grain and he was their harvester. He forged a bloody path towards MacKinnon, his eyes blazing with hell's unholy fire. The coward was like a caged animal, his fear filled eyes darting about the disarray of battle for a route of escape.



By God's teeth he would not allow the cowardly swine to escape him again! If he had ended this long ago, none of this would have come about. Lifting his sword, Cailen sent a prayer the gods of new and old, and he charged.