Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Within the soft bedded Pale Forest, the trunks of the trees twisted like vines, stretching high into the air. The canopy above felt like a blanket to Jocelyn, a sort of protection, even though it really wasn't. It wasn't like Bram would be flying overhead like a bird, looking for them. Still, the rustle of leaves from small furry animals burying their harvests beneath the dead leaves, and the thin streaks of light that penetrated the forest bed from above gave her a warm and comforting feeling as they rode along.

Jocelyn had never been there, but she knew that Blair had, and for some reason, it made her feel close to her sister. Riding in the front, Jocelyn led them through the winding trees with Deirdre behind her and Aoife bringing up the rear. They rode slowly, their bodies tired and sore from days on horseback and several nights sleeping in the dirt. Jocelyn glanced back at the girls, smiling at Aoife in the back, her posture impeccable as always. As she turned back, she paused, pulling the reins of the horse to slow him down. Deirdre rode with her face down, the hood of her cloak covering her face. That was normal up to that point, but what wasn't was the stiffness of Deirdre's whole body, and how her hands clutched the saddle, all the color leaving her fingers.

"Whoa," Jocelyn whispered, bringing the horse to a stop.

As Aoife stopped as well, Jocelyn hopped down and walked over to her youngest sister, who had carefully brought her horse to a stop. "Are ye alright?"

When Deirdre looked up, there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She was gritting her teeth hard, and her face was red and speckled with sweat. "I…I'm nae used tae ridin' fer so long. Me legs are rubbin' against the saddle and…well…"

She lifted her skirt up to show Jocelyn the red chafing of her thighs, where small abrasions had begun to form. Jocelyn gasped and reached up, helping Deirdre down. As her feet touched the ground, her legs folded with them, landing her on her butt. Jocelyn hurried over to her bag and pulled out the log pieces of old cloth, and the salve her sister had sent her. Aoife was sitting next to Deirdre, rubbing her hand down the girl's hair.

"Alright, this may hurt a bit," Jocelyn whispered. "I need ye tae try nae tae cry out. We've gotta stay quiet."

Deirdre squared her shoulders and took a deep breath in through her nose and out of her mouth before nodding to Jocelyn. Aoife pulled her attention, explaining to her how to relax her lower half while riding so she wouldn't have to use her legs to hold her on. Jocelyn was impressed with how brave Deirdre was, only quietly wincing as she cleaned and dressed her thighs, wrapping the cloth around her legs to try to buffer the rubbing.

"There, that should help," Jocelyn said, wiping her sister's forehead. "Next time tell me, alright? There's nothin' tae be ashamed of. None of us have really gotten tae ride much. We have tae keep moving into the forest further, but we'll stop soon and rest and eat, alright?"

Deirdre nodded, letting the girls help her to her feet. They all took a moment to stretch their sore muscles and then remounted their horses. They rode closer this time, almost side by side. As they headed further into the forest, the bark on the trees began to shift from browns and muted grays to bright white.

"When will we arrive at the wise-woman's house?" Aoife asked.

Jocelyn shrugged, trying to hide her nervousness. "I'm nae sure. We kind of just have tae follow the brook and we should find her."

"Is she even real?" Deirdre asked.

Jocelyn gave a confident smile. "Aye, Blair went and visited her. That's how she found out about the wise-woman messing up the prophecy."

"That's why our father died, isnae it?" Deirdre sadly asked.

Jocelyn shook her head. "Nay. Well, that's what drove our father tae the edge of reason. He attacked our cousin, Bram, but couldnae kill him, so our uncle killed our father instead. From there the prophecy got all mixed up, and Bram thought we were still the wolves in the story, coming tae kill him and take his place. That prophecy seems tae have driven a lot of our family mad."

During one of the cool nights where the girls hid within the thickness of the forest, resting and waiting for sunrise again, Jocelyn had remembered the book she had given Blair when she left with James. The wise-woman's cottage was on the way to the McFerguson lands. It was a bit further into the forest than they wanted to go, but if they were going to make it to her sister, they would need rest and food. Seeing as the girls couldn't travel anywhere near the roads, they were going to have to ride out of their way anyway. As soon as Jocelyn had brought the possibility of a real bed and real food to the girls, they were sold.

"In me opinion," Aoife said sternly, "the wise-woman owes us at least that fer all the problems and the pain that her prophecy brought. If we do find her, though, I dinnae want any of her fortune tellin'. I just want tae sleep, eat, and leave. We're gettin' closer tae Blaire, even if she doesnae ken we're coming."

Jocelyn nodded, feeling her stomach growl. "Ye ken, I didnae even really think about it but there's a chance our sister thinks we're dead."

Aoife shook her head. "I dinnae think so. Blair kens. She can feel us like we can her. We're sisters after all."

All three chuckled a bit, a nice break from the stiff, nervous, watchfulness the three had been since they ran from the keep. Jocelyn, finding the sun high overhead, turned the horse and headed to the small ledge looking down at the brook that bubbled along the twisting and winding bed of rocks and stones. She brought her horse to a stop as the other two joined her. "We can take a break here. Eat some of our meat and bread and maybe clean up a bit."

Aoife jumped down, running over to help Deirdre. She looked over at Jocelyn as she took the bread and meat from the bag. "Does the wise-woman ken what she's cost us?"

Jocelyn paused, feeling the anger and resentment growing inside of Aoife. She walked over and took her hands. "I'm sure she does. If she is able tae conjure her prophecies, then she most likely kens what's been going on with us. The way Blair described her in her letters was old, sorrowful, and sorry fer the hurt the prophecy had brought. Look, Aoife, there are many people tae be angry with, and much tae take care of, but finding her may very well save us. We have tae go a long way around tae circle back tae Blair. We need her right now."

Aoife sighed and nodded. "Aye. Well, let's hope we can find her then."

Jocelyn chuckled. "Aye, let's hope. Otherwise, we went a very long way around tae get tae our sister. I ken Blair. If she believes fer even a second that we're still alive, she has someone lookin' fer us. They willnae be lookin' this deep in the forest so we'll want tae head back toward the road, just enough tae maybe be found by them."

Aoife nodded and turned to Deirdre, putting on a big smile. Deirdre rolled her eyes. "I ken I'm the baby sister here but I'm nae a baby anymore. I ken we're in a tough spot, and I ken we need tae get tae Blair fer protection. Just please, dinnae leave me out. I can take it. I'm nae fragile like the two of ye think."

Aoife and Jocelyn glanced at each other and chuckled before breaking into laughter. Deirdre frowned for a moment, but ended up joining them. Even if none of them really thought it was funny, just laughing made them feel better. Everyone was exhausted. They had barely slept, kept going when others wouldn't have, and emotionally, were just trying to get through it and back to Blair. Everything after that could be handled.

As they ate lunch, Aoife poked at Deirdre until she told one of her stories, the ones she kept to herself except when she was exploring in the forests beside their father's clan. They smiled and laughed, doing anything they could to keep their spirits up. If they let the unknown, the probability they would die, and all the trauma and sadness they had been through seep in for even a second, it could mean their life. Jocelyn, though, was not on her own this time. The girls were all keeping each other company, awake, laughing even. Jocelyn watched her sisters, so very grown up as they leaned on each other, working as a team.

"When we get tae Blair's," Aoife stated. "The very first thing I want tae do is have their kitchen staff whip up some of those weird airy desserts that mother made at Christmas time. They had some sort of cream in the middle."

Jocelyn laughed as Aoife pretended to shove the pastry into her mouth over and over again. "Nae a bath. Nae a long talk after so many years apart. You just want pastries. I'll be honest, it sounds pretty good."

Aoife leaned her head back and groaned. "I ken! I want pastries and I'm surrounded by leaves, twigs, and furry animals with giant tails."

Jocelyn laughed along with them as she stood and looked down at the brooke. "I'm gonna go down and wash up. Try tae relax so we can leave soon. We need tae keep goin'. We'll make sure tae fill our waterskins before we leave, too."

Both sisters nodded as Jocelyn pulled out a clean tunic and headed down the embankment to the soft fern that lined the sides of the brook. She leaned down and cupped the cold water in her hands, splashing it onto her face. A small coo escaped her lips as the water ran over her face and down her neck. Standing up, she pulled her cloak off and untied her top, glancing around before pulling her tunic up and over her head. Beneath the thin fabric was just the top to her dressing gown, a thin-strapped top.

Jocelyn pulled one of the clean rags from her bag and dipped it in the water, kneeling down in the fern. She ran the rag over her skin, cooling her body from the warmth that lingered beneath the thick cloth of the cloaks. She washed the dirt and grime from her neck, arms, and loosened the front tie of her dressing gown a bit to wash her chest as well. As she dipped the cloth and reapplied over and over, she thought about racing through the sand with her father as a young girl, rushing to the shore where she would splash into the cold ocean water. It was only one memory, one of few she had of him, but she could remember it so very clearly. She didn't know why they were that far away from home, or if it were even a real memory, but it made her feel warm and comforted, so she didn't question it.

With a smile, Jocelyn opened her eyes, returning to the forest. She dipped the rag into the water again, but as she brought it to her neck, the sound of laughing and crunching leaves brought her eyes up to the other side of the water. Jocelyn froze, watching as six men, not yet aware of her, pushed through toward the water. As she slowly rose and took a step back, she grabbed her clothes and turned toward the path up the embankment.

Aoife stumbled back, Jocelyn nearly running into her, with Deirdre behind them. "What's wrong? Why are ye running off half dressed?"

Jocelyn put her finger to her lips, wincing. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the men, all of them stopping and staring at the girls. Every bit of air in Jocelyn's lungs left her, and for a moment she thought she might pass out. What were they doing all the way out there in the Pale Forest? Surely Bram knew very little about the wise-woman or that they'd even go looking for her.

There was no time to wonder, the girls were in an impossible position. Jocelyn pointed to Aoife. "Go. Run. Keep going."

Aoife shook her head. "Nay, we willnae leave ye."

The sound of men laughing drew the girls' attention back to them, realizing they had crossed the brook and were beginning to surround them.

The man in the front, a thin man with a matted beard and stained tunic, slowly began to smirk, several of his teeth missing. Jocelyn's heart sank into her stomach at the sight of him, immediately recognizing that gnarled snarky smile. He was one of Bram's men, and so were the others.

"Look what we found ourselves, lads," he said, walking through the brook toward her. "Looks like the little wolves have found themselves a den. Now, is this our lucky day er what?"

The other men chuckled, circling around them, each holding a dagger or knife. Jocelyn shook her head. "Leave us be. We dinnae belong tae Bram. We're on our own."

The man stopped and put his brows up, licking his lips. "Did ye hear that, men? Princess Jocelyn says she's nae man's property. Well, from what the Laird says, yer exactly that. Yer his property… though, I dinnae think he'd much mind if we borrowed ye fer a bit, seeing as ye've already started tae undress fer us."

Aoife, Deirdre, and Jocelyn lurched to make a run for it, but three of the men grabbed them, spinning them around to face each other as they held knives to their throats. The leader of the group smirked, walking around, taking a look at each of the girls. He stopped in front of Deirdre and Aoife threw her body back and forth. "Leave her alone, she's just a lass."

The leader laughed wildly, walking over to Aoife, who was held tighter, the blade pressed to her skin. The leader snickered, grabbing Aoife's face in one hand. "What do ye think men? We see what this one's got under her tunic? She looks particularly curvy."

"Get yer hands off of her," Jocelyn growled. "If ye think my cousin will be happy with ye returning damaged goods, ye'd be wrong. We have grooms ready tae make us their brides, and ready tae make Bram very wealthy."

The leader stopped in front of Jocelyn, running the tip of his knife across the fabric of her dressing gown, right across the high crest of her breasts. "Ye hear that? This one thinks that the Laird is gonna want tae do anything more with ye than torture. Torture he's been imaginin' fer a very long time. In fact, he sent us out here with the only rule bein' we brought ye back conscious and with enough life left in ye tae feel the sting of his sword."

Jocelyn's eyes shifted over to Deirdre who was very still, her head pulled back, a tear running down her cheek. There was nothing she could do for her sister at that point. She would rather them fight to the death then be taken back to Bram. There was nothing those men could do to her that would be worse than facing years and years of pent-up anger and imagination like Bram had.

"Ye ken, we've been out here searchin' fer ye lassies fer days," the leader said, shaking his head as he taunted Jocelyn. "We been away from our women, sleepin' in the dirt, all so we could fine ye."

"Lucky women," Jocelyn snarled.

The leader turned quickly, striking Jocelyn hard across the cheek. She could taste the blood in her mouth, and she smiled, hoping her teeth were covered in it. He was the worst kind of man, the kind who had no care for the sanctity of a woman, and she had a good feeling that the men with him felt that way about young girls like Deirdre too.

"We're gonna have some fun after all," one of the men yelled, all breaking into laughter.

Jocelyn could feel her stomach turn, knowing that what happened over the next several minutes would probably leave her dead or close to it. She hoped her sisters joined in the fight. Did she think they could win against the four men? No, but they were no longer being held captive by Bram or her uncle. They were free, and they belonged to no one. They had found their way out and she couldn't allow them to lose that freedom, even if it meant death.

The leader nodded toward the embankment up where the girl's horses and belongings sat. "Get 'em up there."

The man holding Jocelyn grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, pushing her forward, one dragging step at a time. Aoife nearly broke free when climbing the embankment, but the leader was at the top to grab her. She got a good slap across the cheek when her captor made it to the top again. Jocelyn knew there was nowhere to go but up, and she knew she would only have one chance to fight. She had to do it when the moment was right.

The men holding Aoife and Deirdre stood next to one another, facing Jocelyn and her captor. The leader paced back and forth between them, picking the dirt from his fingernails with the tip of his knife. He shook his head, laughing.

"Ye ken, I never did get much of a chance tae prove meself under yer uncle. But yer cousin, he's a true Scot. He takes it back tae a time where men were revered, women did what they were told, and the kind o' shit yer sister pulled would have gotten her a beheadin' after the men did what they wanted with her. When I bring the three of ye back, he willnae kill ye right away," the leader said.

Jocelyn snarled. "Oh, aye? What's he waitin' fer? Some torture? He cannae hurt us anymore."

The leader snickered. "Dinnae ye worry, little wolf, there will be plenty of torture fer ye. But you'll have tae wait until Laird takes McFerguson's clan and brings yer sister back where she belongs, right next tae the three of ye."

Deirdre scoffed through her sobs. "Bram will never be strong enough tae take our sister and her husband. He's just a spoiled brat, and his father kenned that. That's why he killed him."

The leader swung toward Deirdre and both Aoife and Jocelyn struggled, a fierce protection fighting to save their little sister. The leader pressed the tip of his knife to Deirdre's cheek, drawing a small bit of blood. She groaned and gritted her teeth, her eyes open and wild with hate.

"Little one's got some fight in her," the leader laughed. "Tiny girl, yer uncle was killed by his mistress. She poisoned him right there in nothin' but her bare skin."

As the leader spoke, Jocelyn's eyes shifted over to Aoife, trying to portray how badly they needed to fight. Overhead, clouds rolled in and thunder rumbled in the distance. The trees began to sway, the branches twisting forward and back. Within the wavering dances of the leaves, small droplets of water beginning to fall, Jocelyn caught the movement of a shadow not brought by wind.

She narrowed her eyes, looking for the movement again. As she scanned through the trunks behind Aoife, her eyes stopped on a dark figure, so well hidden she wasn't even sure if it was real or not. The figure moved, bringing his finger to his lips before disappearing again. Jocelyn suddenly realized he was there for them. But how could anyone get anywhere near them with the men on watch, or at least enough to see someone approaching.

Suddenly, the thunder clapped even louder, and lightning shot across the sky above the canopy. The horses spooked, rearing on their hind legs. The wind whipped wild, and the men tripped back away from the horses who pulled and kicked to be free. Jocelyn knew this was the moment. She knew she had to help whoever was there. Even if he turned out to be an enemy, right then, she'd take his help.

Amongst the chaos, Jocelyn began to scream, thrashing her body back and forth, kicking at the leaves around her as her captor held tightly. Aoife watched, confused at first, but the ensuing chaos made her realize her sister had some sort of plan. She immediately joined in, screaming as loud as she could, thrashing back and forth.

The chaos continued for several moments until finally the leader stomped over and untied the horses, letting them jet off into the woods. Jocelyn knew they wouldn't go far. The leader rolled his eyes, his face red, his jaw clenched, and his forehead scrunched tightly together.

"Knock that off," he yelled, rushing up to Aoife who continued. "I said," the leader growled, balling his fist and punching Aoife in the stomach. "Shut it."

Jocelyn quieted as Aoife doubled forward with a grunt. The leader sighed and nodded, turning toward Deirdre. "Now, why dinnae we start with…"

His man, the captor holding Deirdre with the worst intentions lay on the ground, his throat cut, blood spilling out onto the ground. Jocelyn's eyes shifted up toward the dancing shadows of the forest and she smirked, watching Deirdre leap onto a branch and disappear into the storm's cover.

One down…three to go. She'd worry about the mystery savior later.