Highlander's Kiss

Chapter 4: Elyn

Elyn was jolted awake by the cart hopping over a large stone. She opened her eyes and stared into the burlap sack, disoriented by the dark for a few moments.

She had been dreaming of the stars hovering over the highlands. Gavin had been snuggled up against her back, his breath warm and comforting against her neck. His hand was placed on her chest, his strength unwavering and soothing. There, in the misty highlands, he had started to take her. Gentle kisses had turned fierce and heavy, both of their eyes soon lit up with a similar crackle of spirit. She had been swooning against his body when the rocky jolt had awoken her.

She grumbled and felt her face itch with dirt. Her wrists were still bound, but it didn't keep her too restricted from scratching her face through the sack. She could hear the two men struggling outside the cart, their grunts and groans swaying the cart back and forth as they rocked it. She imagined it was stuck, since that was the only reason they'd be submitting to hard labor.

While they were distracted, she managed to scrape the sack off her head using the corner of the cart. Her eyes focused and felt dry, but she could see again. The dirty canopy that covered the cart kept the men out of sight.

She crawled to the opening at the back of the cart and peered around the side. The two men were just as dirty looking as she expected: unkempt beards and swollen cheeks. Jet-black hair hung to their shoulders. She took them to be related.

One of the men had a large stick jammed under the cart's wheel and was heaving to get it to roll over the obstacle. Elyn stared at them, scrutinizing and trying to memorize how they looked. When one of the men paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, she ducked back inside.

She looked around for anything she could to cut the ropes that held her wrists and ankles. Boxes and crates were scattered around the back, and under one in the corner she found a rusted saw.

She muttered to herself as she grasped the handle and tried to slip it out from under the crate without making a racket. She wiggled the rusted blade carefully, jerking on it rhythmically to try and free it.

Each time the men outside made a sound, she took a chance to pull on it. It was nearly free when one of the men coughed.

"What? Yer sick or something?"

"Nay... Ye should get back there and make sure she's not pokin' her nose where it donae belong."

Elyn froze and quickly released the handle of the saw. She frowned and scooted back into her corner of the cart. She couldn't find the bag. Just as the man peeked inside, she discovered she had been sitting on it and scooped it up in her hands.

"What are ye doing?" the man stared at her. He lifted himself into the cart and approached her, ducking down to keep his head from striking the top of the canopy. He wasn't wearing very high quality armour, and Elyn thought him to be a mercenary.

Elyn's cheeks burned and she squeezed the sack in her hands. She stared hard back at the man and clenched her jaw. "Stuck?"

The black-haired man scowled and brought his hand back to slap her. "It donae matter if we're stuck! What were ye doin' back here?"

"I wanted to get that filthy sack off me head," Elyn said. "Did ye use that as a pillow before you put it on me? It's disgusting."

The man slapped Elyn across the cheek. She stumbled over and bit her lip. She looked back at the man with a hard glare.

"Now you've hurt the Laird's bride-to-be. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that."

The man fumed and held his gaze to her. His partner called out to him from outside the cart.