Chapter 17

Before they left, the men had managed to grab all that was left of their food supplies. Fortunately they had just been fishing before they left, so there was plenty of carp for them to eat, and they were able to use the last of the daylight to light their fire and extinguish it before the redcoats saw it in the dark. They had brought one lantern, by the light of which they could just about see each other.

They sat around the camp as darkness fell, and the air was heavy with tension. Murdo, Davie, Tommy, and Alec were sitting morosely in a circle, each one wrapped up against the cold in only a single blanket each. Norah wished she had one of her own homemade sweaters with her, since she had only a cloak and a thin blanket. That would have kept out the cold, at least. If only that were all she had to worry about!

These men had not been brought up in the comfort and luxury that she had, and were used to the cold, the rain, and sleeping in the open under the stars or the clouds, so they were much better prepared for a life on the run than she was.

Norah thought of the life she would be leading if she had not managed to leave her father's house. No doubt she would be living in the lap of luxury in Archie Patterson's far bigger house by now. And no doubt she would be utterly miserable too.

She had never realized, until she moved into Caitrin's house, how chilling and unfriendly her own home was. Yes, she had the best of everything, but there was little love inside the four walls, and the only warmth and affection she received was from the cook, Morag. She was a plump, motherly woman with deep brown eyes who always gave Norah hugs, kisses, and little treats which she sneaked into the pockets of her dress with a wink and a conspiratorial smile.

Norah guessed Morag's age to be in her middle fifties, but she might have been younger, since hard work aged people before their time, and she could not remember a time when the cook had not been there.

It was strange, she thought, that she had never really felt at home, or even known what a home was, until she went to Caitrin's humble little cottage, when the old lady had welcomed her without reservation. Since then she had been showered with more love than she had for the whole of her life up till that moment, and Caitrin was on her mind now; she must be worried sick. And what was happening to Tearlach? Were the redcoats torturing him? Was he even alive?

Norah had lain down on the hard ground and curled into a ball, listening to the four men talking amongst themselves. They sounded weary, she thought, and very dejected.

"Tearlach is a strong lad," Murdo was saying. "Remember that time he fought off that wild boar all by himself wi' nothin but a tree branch? Them things have tusks that could drive a hole right through ye. Now I come to think of it, that lad is built just like one of them big hogs!" He tried to laugh, but it petered out feebly.

"May I remind you that he has been weakened by a musket ball?" She sat up, her eyes blazing with fury as she glared at Murdo.

Alec shook his head ruefully. "That is true, an' even if he wasnae hurt, he couldnae stand up to three muskets or three swords!" He looked at Norah. "I know that ye are smitten wi' him lass, but ye must prepare yourself for the worst."

"And whose fault is that?" Norah's voice was a most unpleasant growl. "You should not have left him behind! Who knows what they are doing to him at this moment? They might be torturing him to find out where we are. Tearlach might be strong, but there is only so much pain a person can take before he gives in!"

"Norah," Tommy said patiently, "Tearlach is one man. There are five of us here. Should we have lost five lives to save one? If they had caught us Tearlach would have died anyway, because they are not goin' to spare him even if we are a' killed tryin' to rescue him."

The men nodded their heads in agreement.

"Anyway, nae matter how much they hurt him, our Tearlach will never tell them anything," Murdo said, his voice confident and determined. Norah had already decided that Murdo was the empty vessel amongst them that made the biggest noise, most of it nonsense.

"No." Tommy was the only dissenting voice. "What Norah says is right." He screwed up his face in revulsion. "Ye cannae say things like that until ye have been through it yourself an' survived, or seen the results for yourself. I have seen torture victims, lads." He shuddered. "It is no' pretty."

Norah could listen to no more. She sprang to her feet. "We must get him back!" she cried. "I can't bear to think what they are doing now!"

Tommy sighed, nodding. "Aye, Norah," he concurred. "What dae we think, lads?"

After a moment, there was a reluctant murmur of agreement. "But we cannae go without a plan," he said firmly. "Now, here is what I suggest. First, we send out a scout." He looked around them all. "These bloody redcoats are so full of themselves that they willnae even bother to hide their camp." He paused and looked around them for a moment. "Once we find out where they are, we can see what weapons they have."

"And see how Tearlach is," Norah put in.

"Aye, hen, that goes without sayin'," Tommy said kindly. "Then we can work out a plan to get him back, an' deal wi' the redcoats."

Norah could not sleep, but then she had not expected to. The combination of the hard ground, the cold, and the anxiety about Tearlach were all conspiring to keep her awake, and the more she tried to concentrate on anything else, the more difficult it became.

She tried to recall good memories with him, and there were plenty that she could have chosen from, but her mind kept recalling the bad ones, like the day he had fallen off the big Shire horse they used for pulling their cart. The horse was called Hero and was not used to being ridden, but, like most boys of that age, Tearlach had wanted to impress the girls, particularly Norah. One day, when his father was busy at his anvil, he had sneaked into the field where the huge horse was grazing peacefully and leapt onto his back without a bridle or a saddle.

Hero was a placid horse, as were most horses of his breed, but he was startled by the sudden weight that had landed onto his back, and reared up slightly on his hind legs. He did not raise his front feet very high in the air, but without a saddle, Tearlach had nothing to stop himself from sliding over Hero's back and onto the ground. He slid over the big horse's rump, fell with a thump and lay motionless for what seemed like an eternity to Norah. Her heart was racing with fear until eventually he rose to his feet, dusted himself off and rubbed his head, grimacing, and she breathed an enormous sigh of relief.

That had been, without a doubt, the worst moment of her life, until now. There were other painful memories too, but she managed to push them to the back of her mind.

She thought about what Tearlach had said about looking for her, about having some sort of idea where she was, and knew that she should be comforted that he cared for her so much, but their last words to each other had been said in anger and desperation.

What if they were the last words they ever said to each other? She cursed herself inwardly. Those last words should have been, ‘I love you,' or ‘I will never forget you.'

There was a stone sticking into Norah's back, and pine needles were tangled in her hair. Her blanket and cloak were tangled around her body from all the tossing and turning she had done. Yet her physical discomfort was not half as bad as the ache in her heart that would give her no peace.

Alec, who had been elected to go scouting, crept back just as dawn was breaking. He looked tired, but was in high spirits.

"They are movin' very slowly," he informed them. "We are no' very far away fae them. There are only three of them in the camp, since the rest have all gone out lookin' for us. We must be very careful, but we know the land much better than they dae, an' we should be able to keep out o' their way without much trouble."

"Did you see Tearlach?" Norah asked anxiously.

"Aye, hen," Alec answered. "He was tied to a tree an' he looked very tired. That rough tree bark is obviously no' daein' his back much good, but when I saw him they were feedin' him soup, so at least he is no' starvin'."

Norah was relieved, but she was still not satisfied. "Does he look as if he is in pain?" she asked. She knew she would not like the answer, but she had to know.

Alec sighed, and squirmed uncomfortably. "He looked as if he was in a bit o' pain," he admitted. "But he is a strong lad, Norah. Ye know that already, an' he never gives up."

"What are we going to do now, then?" she demanded. "I am not a soldier, so I have no idea what to do in situations like this. Does any of you have an idea?" She looked around them all, and almost screamed with frustration at the blank faces she saw.

However, just as she was about to yell at them, Alec spoke up. "I have an idea," he said grimly. "Tearlach is only tied by his hands. His feet are still free, so as soon as we untie his bonds he can run, but the first thing we need tae dae is create a diversion. We need to make sure they are no' lookin' at him, but at somethin' else."

"Me," Norah said at once. "I can be the diversion. I know how weak men like that are, and I think I can keep their eyes averted from Tearlach long enough to cut him loose from his bonds."

All the men looked at each other doubtfully.

"Are ye sure, hen?" Tommy asked, frowning. "These men are very dangerous, well-trained an' well-armed. They will no' just be distracted by the sight o' a pretty woman."

Norah sat and thought for a moment. "Then the pretty woman will have to have some help," she said thoughtfully. "And I know just the kind of help she needs."