#
Ruth fought back the voices in her head. They had returned in a screaming frenzy. This had to be done. It was the only way. She held her head with both hands as if to stop it splitting in half from the growing pressure within. Her eyes focused on the battlement as she walked through the arched doorway into the driving rain. Don’t be a fool. Freedom is finally here. Kill her, kill them all. She tried not to listen, but the closer she came to the edge, the shriller the voices became. Her body trembled, her mind reeled. She could no longer hear the wind howling around her, only the voices. One step up, then… one step over. How easy it will be. Stop! Stop there is another way, a better way! Those had been her words. The same words she used to beg the butcher not to cut her. But he ripped her open and stole Helen from her body.
In her mind Ruth saw the flash of the steel knife, felt the pain of the blade, then the darkness pierced only by the sharp light that stole through the window of her room; that silent, lonely room. That image had haunted her. Only the swallows outside her window gave her peace from it. How high they flew, rising with the wind. Ruth spread her arms wide and felt the wind lift her off the battlement. She could fly, just like the swallows. The voices in her head combined in a scream, silent to all except a smiling Ruth.
#
James Gunn stepped aside as his nephew Henry put his muscular arm under William’s shoulders. “Get the other end of him, Torquil. We’ll carry him down, Uncle.”
“Is he awake?” Torquil asked. “His eyes are open.”
“He is filled with opiate, he’ll no’ remember anything of this.” James certainly hoped that was the case as he watched Henry lift William’s head and shoulders while Torquil took his legs. Together they raised him off the bed and carried him out of the small room, and down the narrow stairs to the main room of the tavern.
“He’s breathing right enough and his eyes are open,” James said to Thomas Sinclair. “Does he know what’s happening around him?”
“It was a strong opiate, and the lad was very tired. I fear I may have given him a wee bit too much, but it won’t kill him.” Thomas, using his finger, gently lifted one of William’s fallen eyelids, and then put his fingers to the pulse point on William’s neck. “His eyes are clear enough, and his heart steady. He may drift in an out of consciousness for a day or so, but when he comes around he should act normally.”
“Take him to the horses, we must leave. He can ride with you Henry.” James turned to Thomas. “Thank you, friend. I believe you saved his life.”
Thomas smiled and walked with James out of the tavern to the rain-soaked horses. Torquil hoisted William up in front of Henry who grabbed his brother around the waist and held him tightly.
“How far do you have to go?”
“No more than two hours ride. There is a protected shallow in Sinclair’s Bay. The ship has sailed south from Freswick, that’s where I will meet her.” James told Thomas, who held Torquil’s horse for him.
“Will you all go to sea?” Thomas asked.
“Not me,” Henry said, turning his horse toward the village road.
“Nor I,” Torquil added and heeled his horse to fall in line with Henry.
“I am in your debt, Thomas.” James kicked on his horse and the three were soon in a gentle canter the horses hooves splashing in the puddles on the road that led north past the Keith castle. When they reached the crest of a small rise, James pulled up and the others followed.
“Something out of the ordinary is going on down there.” James looked toward the castle where guards were running and shouting. A vegetable merchant rode his empty wagon up the winding road toward them. He slowed as he passed.
“If you’re coming for the wedding best turn around.” The man said through the driving rain.
“And, why is that?” James asked.
“The reluctant bride just threw herself off the high tower into the sea. Having met the groom, I can’t say I blame her.” The man held out his handless right arm, shook his head, and whipped his horses forward.
The three men looked at each other. Henry hugged William’s limp body. “Sorry little brother,” he whispered in his ear and then rode with the others past the castle.

#
“Sound the alarm!” The shout came from atop the right battlement, “Hey! Hey! Sound the Alarm; someone has just fallen from the far tower!”
Shorty, ears pricked, head down ran hard into the Jacko’s back knocking him head over heal. The boy, free of Jacko’s grip tried to get hold of Shorty’s rein, but the horse was too fast and reared high kicking his hooves at the scared boy who turned and ran causing the other guard to run after him. Shorty whinnied and circled Helen stamping the ground with his hooves.
Nelly, eyes wide and mouth open looked at Helen. “She’s given you freedom. Don’t waste it. Go! Go on!.”
Shorty pushed his head under Helen’s arm and she needed no further urging. She threw herself onto Shorty’s back. “I don’t even know your name,” she asked just as Jacko scrambled back to his feet.
“It’s Nelly. Now get out before you infect us all.” Nelly threw her arms around Jacko who held his back, still shaken by Shorty’s attack. “Protect me, Jacko.”
“I’ll never forget you Nelly.” Helen didn’t have to give Shorty the signal to run. She held on tightly as the little horse leapt from standing to full gallop in two strides. He raced through the rain away from the castle. As they reached the crest of a rise Helen noticed an empty wagon in the far distance and pulled him up.
“Not that way Shorty.” She turned him northward and the two galloped along the ridge until they came to a fork in the road. Both choices would lead her north, the road on her left up onto higher ground and through the highland, the road on her right down toward the water following the coast. She looked behind and to her great relief saw no one following. She was about to take the coastal road when she noticed further ahead three riders crest a rise of land. Fearful that they would be Keiths, she turned Shorty toward the highland road.
“Take me to William, Shorty.” Shorty turned and started down the coastal road, but Helen pulled him back. “Not that way.” She urged him on, but Shorty stood his ground looking down the coastal road. “Come on, Shorty, we have to go.”
With ears back, and a last glance down the coastal road, Shorty turned and with a nod of his head, cantered up the steep highland road that would lead them north to Freswick Bay.