Seven Nights with a Scot (All the King's Men Book 1) by Gerri Russell

Author:Gerri Russell [Russell, Gerri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949707588
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Published: 2019-02-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Vivian groaned as she slid from Odin’s back the next evening. Sore and tired, she was grateful for the reprieve. After a treacherous day spent making their way through the hills and valleys of the lowlands, they had reached the outskirts of Glasgow just as the clouds overhead threatened rain. They set up camp inside a large cave in the hillside overlooking a river. Caves always made Vivian a little nervous because of the darkness, but Quinn had convinced her the natural structure was their best hope for both shelter from the storm and protection from Rupert if he were searching the area.

Once the horses were settled inside the cave, Quinn gave orders to the others to get their campsite set up before the gray clouds overhead released their promise of rain. Wanting to contribute, Vivian set about gathering wood for a fire. As she did, she scanned the area, looking and listening for any signs of Rupert and his men.

Now that the travelers no longer had the protection of the steep cliffs and impenetrable valleys to hide them, they had to be extremely careful. Here in the foothills they were exposed and would remain that way over the next three days of travel. Quinn was driving them hard, but with good reason. Danger could be anywhere.

Forcing her anxiety aside, Vivian continued to pick up whatever she could find that would burn. Fire in the cave would ease her fear and also keep them warm while they slept. She paused for a moment to watch a gray heron as it fished in the river curling at the bottom of the bank below her. Perhaps when she had completed her task she would try her hand at fishing again.

The image of the bird suddenly faltered, and a telltale pain pulsed behind her eyes. As another vision crashed through her brain, her booted feet skidded on the moss beneath her. She struggled to stay in the here and now as the wood flew out of her hands and she went sliding. Roots, rocks, and sharp-edged gorse branches clawed at her skin and dress as she tumbled. She flailed out, desperately seeking something, anything to halt her downward plunge toward the river, but she was moving too fast.

From behind her, she heard Quinn shouting. She couldn’t make sense of the words as the pounding at her temples increased. She cried out in pain and shock as she hit the icy water and plunged below the surface.

This was how Sister Emmelia had died. Perhaps it was justice that she, too, suffer a similar fate. The river’s current caught Vivian, but instead of pulling her under, she seemed to be floating as the vision she’d tried to fight took hold.

Late afternoon, and yet a full moon hung swollen and glistening in the sky. In a room that was whole, but also in ruin. A man stood beside a lone woman. He, dressed in an elegant green coat trimmed in gold brocade with black knee breeches.

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