Page 9 of Highlander’s Captive

Amy’s palm touched the stone completely and was sinking into the rock as if it were a river. The rest of her arm followed, and then her shoulder.

“Ahhhh!” Amy heard herself scream.

She gripped the stone with her other hand, scrabbled her feet against the floor, but couldn’t stop herself from falling.

And then she fell completely into the stone…and the world grew dark.

Chapter 2

Inverlochy Castle, November 1306

The catapult launched a rock with a loud wooden crack, and Craig held his breath, watching the rock fly. No matter how often he’d seen that during the last three days, the sight was ever majestic.

The rock hit the castle wall. Archers sprang to the sides. Stones cracked, and the upper part of the wall crumbled, falling in a shower of sand and shingle.

Robert the Bruce’s army, standing across the broad moat from the castle, erupted in a jubilant cry that reverberated in Craig’s chest. Or maybe it was the hope—the hope to finally turn the tide of the war for the true King of Scots.

The War of Independence. The war between a small number of Highland clans and a giant—England.

The war with no promise of victory but a stubborn resolve to fight no matter what.

“’Twas a good shot,” Craig’s father said, and Craig nodded.

“Aye, Dougal,” Robert the Bruce said. “Mayhap too good. We dinna want to completely destroy the castle. ’Tis too important strategically.”

The three of them sat on their horses at the edge of the Inverlochy village, which lay across the moat. While the catapult master cried orders to reset the catapult, a movement on the right side of the moat caught Craig’s eyes.

A small figure emerged from behind a tree and boulders and raced across the field like a speedy ant.

“Do ye see that?” Craig asked.

Craig strained his eyes. The person was running away from the castle. The figure was too small to be a warrior or even a woman.

“What is it?” Bruce said.

“By the northeastern tower, but on this side of the moat, do ye see a massive tree and a collection of large rocks?”

“Aye,” said Craig’s father.

“Someone is running,” said the Bruce.

“Oh. Aye,” Dougal said. “A child?”

“Mayhap,” Craig said. “A moment ago, they appeared there, as though from under the ground.”

Bruce frowned. “Are ye certain?”

“Saw it with my own eyes. Might that be a secret passage into the castle?”

Bruce nodded. “Aye, that might be. The Comyns are sly enough to think of such a thing.”

“But why risk revealing it now?” Craig asked. “We’ve been sieging them but for three days. Surely they still have food and supplies.”

“A messenger,” Bruce spat.

Craig exchanged a glance with his father, an understanding running between them. If it was a messenger, they had to interfere right away. They couldn’t allow help to come to the Comyns. Bruce’s forces were very weak, just barely recovered from a major defeat at the hands of the MacDougalls earlier this year. Bruce had to stay and oversee the siege. It was up to Craig and his father to catch the messenger.

The catapult sent another rock into the wall, a boom bursting through the air. Another warning shot just to remind the Comyns that Bruce could do more damage.