They headed back, Cait taking pains to keep distance between herself and the Balmoral soldier. Emily felt for her friend. Her own situation was precarious, but the truth was… she was no worse off than she'd been before. Living amongst the Balmorals couldn't be any worse than living with the Sinclairs. And as long as she was captive to the other clan, she didn't have to worry about Talorc sending her back to England and Abigail being sent in her place to fulfill the king's edict.
But Cait was obviously and justifiably upset by their predicament. She didn't want war with the Balmoral clan and she didn't want to live with them either, from what Emily could see.
They reached the water and both she and Cait stopped a few feet from where the soldiers readied the horses. The contraption they were using looked odd, but she remembered seeing something like it in a painting of a Viking raid once. It looked like a floating raft that the horses would be attached to in harness as they swam. The raft would make the crossing easier on them. It would keep their heads above water, with slots in it for each horse's body to fit into, so that they would be together and afloat and share the burden of the crossing, conserving their equine strength. The horses didn't seem to mind it.
Regardless, Emily was glad she and Cait planned to escape before getting on the boat. The sea was not exactly calm. Waves crashed against rocks a good distance from the shore and she had no desire to be in a boat amidst such awesome movement of the deep, dark water. She had no desire to be in a boat at all.
She had grown adept at hiding her terror of the water, but it was there inside her, a dark force that would consume her as surely as the murky depths.
"Eat this." Drustan held an oat cake and apple toward Cait.
She shook her head.
"The babe needs nourishment."
As much as she hated to, Emily agreed with the warrior. "Eat, Cait. He's right."
Cait took the food and bit into the apple.
Drustan handed a similar offering to Emily in silence. She accepted it without a word. If they were going to run, they had to keep their strength up.
She took one bite of the oat cake and realized why Cait had chosen to eat her apple first. The bread tasted like wood, but she choked it down. She immediately took a bite from her apple to clear the awful taste from her mouth.
She looked at Cait and grimaced. The other woman laughed.
"What is so amusing?" Drustan asked.
Cait lost her smile. "Emily doesn't seem to like the oatcake."
"It is merely that the flavor took me by surprise," Emily hedged, not wanting to be rude even amidst her enemies and then got angry with herself for caring whether or not she offended them.
They bloody well deserved to be offended.
"I don't like them either," Cait assured her. "Only warriors lack taste enough to find them palatable."
"That doesn't surprise me," Emily said with asperity.
They finished the repast quickly despite its unappetizing nature.
"Come here, English." It was Lachlan. He was twenty feet away, standing by the boat that looked much too small to transport five giant warriors and two women anywhere across the water. He was so close to the edge, he was practically standing in the water.
She had no desire to get that close to the sea. "My name is Emily, not English."
The big warrior just shrugged. And waited.
She crossed her arms and gave him a look that told him he could wait until her father came calling from England. She wasn't getting that near to the water. She measured the distance to the horses out of the corner of her eye. If Drustan wasn't so close, they would have better luck escaping, but they had to try.
She turned to signal Cait, but she was too late. Without so much as a muscle twitch of warning, Drustan swung Cait up in his arms and headed toward the boat. She yelled and shoved against his chest, but he kept hold of her.
"Ulf," the laird said.
A second later, Emily found herself swung high in another warrior's arms and then thrown over his shoulder. It was the man who had said Talorc would thank Lachlan for stealing her because she was English. She immediately tried bucking out of his hold, but his grip tightened painfully across her thighs and she yelped.
His shoulder rammed her stomach with every step he took and she found it difficult to breathe. She was not happy about hanging upside down either. His backside was right there and she averted her face so she was at least looking at the ground. He felt different from Lachlan and she didn't want him holding her. Even briefly.
His glare had been filled with a malevolence she had not seen in Lachlan's eyes either.
"Put me down," she demanded when she could get enough breath, only to lose it again as she realized the warrior had walked right into the water.
He put her down all right… straight into the boat on a tiny seat beside Cait. The craft rocked dangerously and she gasped in fright. Drustan was in front of them and Ulf climbed into the boat behind them. He sat down right behind her, his hostile presence too close for comfort. She felt trapped and her body twitched with the need to get away from him.
The water was shallow here. She noticed his legs were only wet up to his knees. No matter how dark it looked, it was not deep. She must remember that. Emily pinched Cait lightly. It was now or never. Her friend dove out one side of the boat while Emily forced nausea-producing fear down so she could dive out the other. Ulf caught her by the skirt of her overtunic and held her hanging above the water.
The sound of splashing and Drustan's bellow told her Cait had been more successful.
"Save yourself, Cait," Emily screamed as she scrabbled to get back in the boat and do what she could to hamper efforts at catching her friend.
She was just in time to grab Drustan's ankle. She clung for all she was worth with both hands, but he gave a mighty yank, straining her shoulder joints. He dove after Cait, but it was the other redheaded soldier who caught her as she tried to mount the single horse remaining on dry land.
Cait fought like a wildcat, biting and clawing, screaming for the man to let her go.
But it was Drustan's lethally quiet command that accomplished that. The other soldier released her and Drustan grabbed her in the same motion. He subdued her almost instantly and tied her hands behind her back with a leather strap, his face set in a black scowl. He then did the same to her feet.
Cait was sobbing by the time he was done. "Don't do this," she begged through her tears. "Please, don't do this. I'll talk to Talorc… there will be an apology. Please…"
But Drustan just picked her up, cradled her to his chest like a small child and carried her back to the boat.
She looked up at him. "I h-hate you. I'll never be yours. N-never!"
He looked down at her and his anger was terrifying. "You'll be mine, lass. Hate me if you will, but I am keeping you just as Magnus kept my Susannah."
"I'll kill you first, or die trying," Cait said, her tears giving way to fury.
After that, she said nothing, sitting ramrod straight on the small bench beside Emily. With a sideways look, Emily noted that Cait was glaring a hole in Drustan's back. And the horrible man deserved it.
Emily did not know how to help her friend, but her mind was reeling in horror from what the angry warrior's words had implied. Less than five minutes later, they cast off. The warriors rowed with practiced movements that showed they'd made this crossing together many times before.
She was trying not to imagine how deep the water was or how flimsy the boat felt. She valiantly ignored the spray from waves that crashed against its bow. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the back of Drustan's wet plaid, but the image of the furious soldier was no mote comforting than the terrifying water.
She turned to Cait. "Are you all right?" she asked in Latin.