In a chilling and raspy voice Roland demanded that he be cut down. Lifting her head up, Lara watched as the warrior hung from the rafter, limp, his head hanging to one side. Sweat and blood glistened off his body. The guard took his blade out of its sheath and sliced the rope in two. In that instant, the warrior plummeted to the ground. The portly guard picked him up by his arms and began to drag him back into his cell.
“Get in there!” the guard roared as he shoved him inside the small space.
Roland held him down as the warrior was once again chained to the wall in iron shackles.
Still curled up in the corner, Lara looked at him through the bars, tears streaming down her face. He looked broken, not only physically, but in spirit as well. She carefully watched the guards as they returned to their posts. She knew that one of them would head back up the stairs with the others while her tormentor would sit down on his chair outside her cell, tilt it back against the bars and slam back a tankard or two of whiskey. Their routine had become predictable the last several nights, and Lara had taken notice.
“Hello, my beauty,” Roland whispered to her through the cell bars, so low that no one else could hear him.
His breath smelled like rotten food and stale ale.
“My body is aching for the sweetness between your thighs and I promise that you will enjoy it,” he threatened.
“Perhaps ye would like a matching scar across the other side of yer face,” she threatened.
Roland chuckled.
“Oh how I love a woman with some fight in her.”
Lara looked away from him and hugged her knees tighter into her chest. She prayed God would take her from this place. She would rather die than stay here another night. Resting her head upon her knees, she chewed her bottom lip, in an effort to keep herself from falling asleep. If she were to drift off, she would be left vulnerable, and Roland would surely have his way with her. It would be no different than what had been done to her by that despicable man Dermot, her husband.
Married for no more than a sennight, Lara was still angry with herself for believing his sweet and flowery words. She had become so easily blinded by hope that she missed the obvious signs of treachery. She, like her father, had believed that the marriage of Lara and Dermot would end years of feuds between their clans. By uniting them there should have been peace. That is what Errol, Laird of Clan Moray swore his life upon with his very last breath; but no, in truth, his son Dermot proved to be a most vicious and vile man. He had chosen not to keep his father’s promise. But still, she never could have imagined that this would have happened.
As if it were yesterday, she recalled the morning she pleaded with her father to void the contract and marry her off to another; any other. She had only met Dermot once, many years ago, but his rude and selfish behavior left a bitter taste in her mouth. Having to marry him made Lara’s stomach twist and churn.
“Lara, ye are meddling in things in which ye should nay be meddling. Ye are ten and seven years old. ‘Tis time ye were married,” her father croaked.
“Meddling? Is my life no’ my business? I will do my duty and marry the swine. But ye are sacrificing me to the wolves. How do ye ken ye can trust ‘em? Even their own priest had been condemned for treason. The Morays’ have ne’er kept their word or their promises. Surely ye can find me a better suitor and our clan a better ally.”
Her father’s eyes darkened like the night sky and his brows furrowed. In a deep and lowered tone he replied, “We need this alliance, Lara. We have far too many enemies. Ye will do the Laird’s bidding if he so wishes it. Ye will marry the son of Laird Moray and that is the end of it. Ye will no’ defy me again. I have found ye a suitor who has the means to care fer ye. God only hope he can handle ye. I will no’ hear another word.”
Lara’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud snore coming from outside her cell. With the guard asleep, Lara was sure that this time she would be able to slip her thin, bony wrists out of the shackles without notice. Lara reached out and wet her wrists from a small puddle of muddy water that had been leaking from the ceiling onto the ground. She began to vigorously twist her right hand back and forth successfully popping it out of its binding. Repeating the same thing with the other hand, she was able to free herself from the irons. Now she only needed the key to unlock the one around her ankle.
Glancing around the room, she saw no one had noticed her actions, except for the nameless warrior whose heavy gaze sent chills down Lara’s spine. He watched her like a hawk watching his prey, but remained silent. On her hands and knees, Lara silently crawled towards Roland. Sliding her small hands through the bars, she slipped Roland’s dagger from his belt. With one forceful thrust, she stabbed the man in the back.
Roland howled in agony. Lara twisted the blade and pulled it back out as blood gushed from his wound. It took only moments before his body became motionless and fell from his chair onto the ground. Lara promised herself that she would not mourn this loss of life though she would be dutiful and ask God for forgiveness.
Lara’s arm ached as she stretched it as far as she could through the bars for the key ring latched to his belt. Once she retrieved it, she removed her ankle chain, staggered to the door of her cell, and swung the door open. The loud creak of steel echoed throughout the chamber. The prisoners around her had remained silent until now. Whispering in low voices they begged for her to help release them, but her time was precious and she knew that she could not save them all.
With little time to escape, Lara crept towards the stairs. Putting one foot on the first step, she felt an unnerving tightness in her chest. She looked back over her shoulder to the injured warrior. His body was slumped to one side and his worn out arms hung lifeless from the chains. Seeing his helplessness, she knew she had to save him. She could not let a man as brave as he, die in here. Inspired by his valor and strength, Lara took courage. If it were not for him, she may never have had the bravery to take a man’s life to save her own.
Quickly, but as quiet as a field mouse, she ran to his cell, turned the key in the lock, and unlatched the door. The warrior raised his head to her but said nothing. For a fleeting moment, Lara wondered if perhaps the warrior was a mute. For the past two weeks, he had not said one word. From above the staircase, Lara heard a noise from the guards. Worried that her escape would fail, she tossed the key ring at his side and prayed her small token of freedom would help him escape as well. Lara took off running up the long staircase.
Once she reached the top step, Lara looked around and saw two guards sitting at a small round table in heavy debate. Their distraction and conversation made it easy for Lara to take the opportunity to examine the large open room. On each side of the room were two wooden support beams that held up the ceiling; just wide enough for Lara to hide behind, unnoticed, if she could get to them. When the guards weren’t looking, she held her breath and quickly advanced forward to the first beam.
Pressing her back up against the first beam, she waited to see if the guards had noticed her presence. She could feel her chest rise and fall with each unsteady breath. Lara felt her knees start to buckle and she could not stop her hands from shaking. After a few minutes, she peeked around the wooden beam to see if all was clear. The guards continued to be distracted. Taking in another deep breath, she ran as quietly and swiftly as she could to the next one, stepping as light as a feather.
Lara could feel the hairs on her arms rise and her heartbeat quicken. She had made it this far and now freedom was only a few more feet away. She prayed her attempt would be successful and not in vain. It had been a long while since she breathed in the crisp, fresh air and felt the earth beneath her feet. She was determined to do so again even if she had to kill every guard that stood in her way.