Becca St.John by Seonaid

the last outcropping of humanity to reach the sea. The never ending sea.
     

CHAPTER 9  ~  CAUGHT
     
    Having kept to the high land, Padraig could see what the slavers were doing below. The women and the priest were safe enough for now. They’d been put on the rocky beach, where the boat’s crew could see them easily, as they loaded up the vessel.
    They had provisions, which meant they either had an ally, or they’d been robbing cottages. He guessed that was how they came to have the horses over on Loch Hope. Lochlan and his men would have built the corral. The horses he and Seonaid confiscated were thin enough to convince him of that. There’d been no one to get feed to the poor beasties.
    He looked back, toward the path to Eriboll. He saw Deian, riding hard, hoped the boy would know to rest his mount a tad here and there. Then again, the boy instinctively knew more about horses than Padraig ever learned, and would know when to slow his ride.
    There was no sign of Seonaid, which worried him; but he knew she’d taken the higher trail, which dipped and rose. She would surface again, soon enough.
    Just above the far bank, two men headed toward the shore, bags over their shoulders. Goods absconded, possibly, or a traitor going to join them. He didn’t know for a surety, but the men didn’t have plaids.
    How many other directions were they coming from? Padraig signaled Tarvos to lower himself, on his haunches, curling-up like a dog, ready to see any signals, to go to action, but no longer a silhouette on the horizon.
    So men came from the southwest and the west. They must have sent out scouts—for lasses, for provisions, and to rid themselves of witnesses. It would not do to have anyone know of their landing, their stealing.
    Again, he looked for Seonaid, saw nothing. He could just make out Deian, gaining on the town. He shifted, ensuring the area behind remained free of surprises, and saw a man cresting the hill to his left, directly south of the beach. So far, he’d seen scouts from the west, south, and southwest. North was the water.
    He was directly east.
    Seonaid and Deian were to the east.
    Where was that man?
    Again, he studied the area below.
    The captives were in the open; no way could he get to them without revealing himself. Not until the light disappeared. The moon would help hide him, but would also make it difficult for him to see.
    Tarvos and the extra mounts they’d confiscated on Loch Hope were his one advantage, but not enough to rush in for three captives. He’d start making his way closer, keeping his eye out for the man from the east.
    Where the devil was Seonaid?
     
    vvvvvv
     
    In the gloom of dusk, Deian charged to Eriboll’s gate, only to be stopped by guardsmen as they made to close off the town for the night.
    “I need to see The Reah! Let me see the chief! There’s danger!”
    “A wee lad wants to fire a warning?” One guard laughed.
    “It’s about the missin’ lasses.”
    “No!” The other guard mocked, pretending to be shocked. “You mean the ones The MacKay saved by destroying the renegades?”
    “Others! They’re stealing people. I need to see the Chief!” Deian shouted, even as they laughed. Let them laugh, stupid oafs .
    He kicked Snip’s belly and shot past the guards.
    “Hey, boy, you can’t be doin’ that!” they shouted.
    They should have taken me seriously , Deian thought. A guard should always be prepared, and they weren’t.
    He rode on, maneuvering past closing shops and crowds of people on foot. Incited by shouts and cries and the pounding of footsteps behind him, he urged Snip forward, using the fancy steps he’d taught him, to keep from hurting the people in his way. So many people.
    And then it happened.
    He was stopped, but not by the guard. The three men who stood in his way were warriors. He could tell by the way they stood, the way they looked like they might eat him for breakfast.
    Even Snip sensed the danger and reared, but Deian hung