Page 111 of Bound to a Warrior
Someone called out to Mara and the woman turned and hurried off. Mercy stood there for a moment. All this distraction and worry, she assumed, was because of her and that disturbed her just as much as not being able to see Duncan again.
But there was nothing she could do but carry out her plan. She rushed up the spiral staircase to her bedchamber and quickly gathered what she needed, tucking the dagger Harry had given her into her boot. She added an extra blouse over the one she wore and slipped a vest on over that. With autumn’s chill baring down on them and no Duncan to keep her warm this time, she wanted to make certain that she was prepared for her journey.
She intended to snatch some food off the tables in the great hall before leaving and grab her warm cloak that hung by the door. With one last look around the bedchamber and tears gathering in her eyes, she hurried out of the room.
No one paid her heed as she made her way through the great hall, grabbing what she needed as she went. They were much too concerned with their own duties and the uncertainty of the situation.
Once outside, she flipped the hood of her cloak up and over her head, pulling it down far enough so that it and the night helped conceal her identity. With rushed steps she hurried through the village and into the woods.
She didn’t stop, didn’t look back, couldn’t look back. Somewhere high on the battlements Duncan stood looking out over the land, worried for his people, worried over his mission, and she was sure he was missing her just as much as she missed him.
“Mercy.”
The whisper made her jump and her rapid heartbeat settled, though just a little when she saw that it was Bailey.
“Dawn is hours away,” Bailey said.
“So why are you here now?” she asked of him what he wondered of her.
“I thought it wise with all the commotion that I leave,” he explained. “And I worried that perhaps the soldiers were forcing our hand.”
Mercy nodded. “A diversion to keep the sentinels and all eyes busy, giving us an easier chance to escape. And of course, avoiding any possible traps that we may have had planned.”
“You think like a warrior.”
Mercy smiled, thinking how often Duncan had called her a warrior woman. “A necessity forced upon me.”
“Warriors are often conceived in battle,” Bailey said.
“If that is so, then I am nothing more than a toddling warrior.”
Bailey disagreed. “No. You are a mighty warrior for only a mighty warrior enters battle knowing he may not come out alive, but enters anyway.”
Mercy placed a sturdy hand on his arm. “No, Bailey, a mighty warriorknowshe’ll come out alive. Now we must hurry, since I assume they wait for us.”
They hastened their pace as best they could as they made their way through the dark.
“I need you to give Duncan that message as soon as you return,” she said, “since I fear he may discover my absence sooner than I anticipated. And please, Bailey, please, convince him to pay heed to it.”
“I will,” Bailey said adamantly to Mercy’s relief.
They no sooner reached the designated spot than the soldiers appeared, Kate tucked in the middle of them.
Bailey looked ready to call out to her, but Mercy silenced him with a strong grip to his arm and moved closer to him.
Mercy raised her voice and with confidence commanded, “Let the woman and her husband go and when they are on safe soil, I will be yours.”
Laughter circled the group and she felt Bailey tense. She was quick with her reply.
“Be foolish and this man who wants nothing more than the safe return of his wife will see me dead.”
Thankfully, Bailey went along with her ruse.
“Send my wife to me and after we are safe, I will set the woman free.”
The soldiers hadn’t expected the husband’s bravery and there was muffled chatter before one spoke.
“The king’s daughter is given to us first and then your wife is returned.”
