Eleven Years Earlier – Lancaster’s Dungeon, 1361

“Please… please, I want tae go home.”

Isla’s voice was barely a whisper in the darkness, hoarse from crying and calling for help that never came. She huddled in the corner of the tiny cell, her knees pulled to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible.

The cold stone pressed against her back, leeching warmth from her small body. She couldn’t remember what warmth felt like anymore. Couldn’t remember sunshine, or her mother’s arms, or the sound of her father’s laugh. All she knew was darkness and cold and the constant gnawing fear that she would die there, alone and forgotten.

“I want me maither,” she whispered to the shadows. “I want tae go home.”

No one answered. They never did.

She didn’t even know why she was here. One moment she’d been playing in the gardens at Fletcher lands, and the next – rough hands grabbing her, a cloth over her mouth, darkness. When she’d woken, she was in this cell, and men with English accents were telling her she was being held for ransom.

“Yer faither will pay,” they’d said. “And until he daes, ye stay here.”

But no payment had come. No rescue. Just endless days of darkness broken only by the thin gruel they pushed through the slot in the door once a day.

She was eleven years old, and she was going to die there.

The sound of footsteps on stone made her flinch deeper into her corner. They came twice a day or twice a day, depending. Once with food, once to empty the chamber pot. She’d learned not to speak to them, not to beg. They either ignored her or laughed at her tears.

But those footsteps were different. Multiple sets, moving fast, and accompanied by voices. Shouting voices.

Scottish voices. Isla’s head snapped up, her heart suddenly hammering against her ribs. Was she imagining it? Had hunger and darkness finally driven her mad?

Then she heard it clearly:

“Check every cell! We’re nae leavin’ anyone behind!”

Steel rang against steel somewhere above. Men screamed. More footsteps, running now, coming closer.

Isla scrambled to her feet, her legs shaking from disuse. “Here!” Her voice came out as a croak. “I’m here! Please, I’m here!”

The footsteps paused outside her cell. Torchlight suddenly blazed through the small window in the door, painfully bright after so long in darkness. She threw up her hands to shield her eyes.

“Someone’s in here!” a voice called. Young, male, urgent. “Get this door open!”

“Stand back from the door!” another voice commanded.

Isla pressed herself against the far wall, her heart racing so fast she thought it might burst. It was real. It was happening. Someone had come.

The door shuddered under a heavy impact. Once. Twice. On the third strike, wood splintered and the door crashed inward.

Torchlight flooded the cell, and Isla had to squeeze her eyes shut against the brightness. When she could finally squint them open, she saw figures silhouetted in the doorway. Warriors, she realized. Scottish warriors in Cameron colors.

“Sweet Christ,” one of them breathed. “She’s just a bairn.”

“Isla Fletcher?” The voice was closer now, gentle. “Are ye Isla Fletcher?”

She tried to answer but her voice wouldn’t work. She managed a nod.

“We’re here tae take ye home.” The speaker moved into the cell, and as Isla’s eyes adjusted, she could finally see him properly.

He was young, not even twenty, she guessed, with dark hair and the kindest grey eyes she’d ever seen. He wore a sword at his hip and blood spattered his clothes, but his expression as he looked at her was nothing but gentle concern.

“Are ye hurt, lass?” He knelt before her, bringing himself to her level. “Did they harm ye?”

“N-nay.” Her voice was barely audible. “Just… just locked me here. In the dark.”

“Well, ye’re nae in the dark anymore.” He offered his hand. “Me name is Seoc Cameron. And I’m goin’ tae take ye home tae yer family. Is that all right?”

She stared at his hand for a long moment, hardly daring to believe it was real. Then, slowly, she reached out and took it. His palm was warm and rough with calluses, and his grip was gentle but steady.

“That’s it. That’s brave.” He helped her to her feet, then frowned as she swayed. “When did ye last eat?”

“This… this mornin’. I think. They bring gruel once a day, but I dinnae…” She couldn’t remember. Time had lost all meaning in the darkness.

“Right.” Without asking permission, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. “Hold ontae me neck. Can ye dae that?”

She nodded and wrapped her thin arms around his neck, pressing her face against his shoulder. He smelled of leather and metal and something green and alive, the outside world she’d thought she’d never see again.

“I’ve got her,” he called to the others. “Let’s move.”

They carried her upstairs that seemed to go on forever, through corridors that rang with the sounds of fighting. Isla kept her face buried against Seoc’s shoulder, not wanting to see, not wanting to know what violence had been necessary to reach her.

“Is she the only one?” someone asked.

“Looks like it. The other cells were empty.” Seoc’s arms tightened around her. “But one is enough. We got what we came fer.”

“The English are rallyin’ at the gate. We need tae go. Now.”

“Then let’s go.”

They burst out into daylight so bright it hurt. Isla squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by sensation after so long in darkness. Fresh air. Sunlight. The smell of grass and sky and freedom.

“Easy,” Seoc murmured, his voice close to her ear. “I ken it’s overwhelmin’. Just hold on tae me. I’ve got ye.”

More shouting. The clash of steel. Horses screaming. But through it all, Seoc’s arms remained steady, carrying her away from the nightmare that had been her prison.

“Get her on the horse!” someone shouted. “We need tae ride!”

Seoc lifted her onto a massive black stallion, then swung up behind her. His arms went around her, holding her secure against his chest, one hand on the reins and the other wrapped protectively around her waist.

“Hold tight,” he said. “We’re goin’ tae ride fast, but I willnae let ye fall. I promise.”

The horse lunged forward. Isla grabbed onto Seoc’s arm with both hands, terrified of falling, but he kept his word. His grip never wavered, his body sheltering hers as they galloped away from Lancaster’s fortress.

She didn’t know how long they rode. Time seemed to blur again, but in a different way, not the endless grey sameness of the cell, but a rush of sensation and sound and movement. Eventually they slowed, the horses pulling to a stop in a clearing where more men waited.

“Did ye get her?” someone called.

“Aye.” Seoc dismounted, then gently lifted Isla down. “Isla, this is Rhodri. He’s me second-in-command. He’s going tae look after ye fer a moment while I speak with the men. Is that all right?”

She didn’t want him to leave. He was the only solid thing in a world that had tilted sideways. But she nodded, trying to be brave.

“Good lass.” He squeezed her shoulder, then moved away to confer with the other warriors.

Rhodri knelt beside her, his face creased with concern. “How are ye holdin’ up, wee one?”

“I dinnae ken.” It was the most honest answer she could give. “Is this real? Am I really free?”

“Aye, ye’re really free. We’re takin’ ye home tae yer Da and Ma. They’ve been frantic with worry.”

“They… they remembered me?” The question came out small and broken. After how long she’d been there, she’d started to think maybe no one cared, that maybe they’d forgotten her.

“Remembered ye? Lass, they’ve thought of naethin’ else. Yer Da tried tae mount a rescue himself twice, but the English defenses were too strong. That’s when he came tae Laird Cameron fer help.”

“Why would the Camerons help?”

“Because that’s what honor demands. A child in danger, clan politics be damned.” Rhodri smiled. “Plus, young Seoc there insisted. Wouldnae take nay fer an answer. Said nay bairn should suffer like that if we had the power tae stop it.”

Isla looked over at Seoc, who was organizing the men for the journey home. He caught her looking and offered a reassuring smile.

“He saved me,” she whispered.

“Aye, he did. And he’ll make sure ye get home safely. That’s the kind of man he is.”

They rode through the day and into the night, stopping only briefly to rest the horses and let Isla eat something more substantial than gruel. Seoc stayed close throughout, checking on her, making sure she had water and food, speaking to her in that same gentle voice.

“Are ye cold?” he asked when she shivered during one stop. Without waiting for an answer, he draped his own cloak around her shoulders. “Better?”

“Aye. Thank ye.” She pulled the heavy fabric closer, breathing in the scent of freedom.

“We’ll reach Fletcher lands by tomorrow afternoon. Yer parents will be waitin’ fer ye.”

“What if…” She couldn’t finish the question. What if they didn’t want her anymore? What if being captive had somehow made her less than she was?

“What if what?” he prompted gently.

“What if they dinnae want me back? What if I’m… broken now?”

“Oh, lass.” He crouched down to her level, his grey eyes serious. “Listen tae me. Ye are nae broken. Ye survived somethin’ terrible, aye, but that makes ye strong, nae weak. And yer parents? They love ye more than anythin’ in this world. They’ll be so happy tae have ye home that naethin’ else will matter.”

“How dae ye ken?”

“Because I’ve met yer faither. I’ve seen how he speaks about ye, how desperate he was tae get ye back. That’s a man who’ll nae see ye as anythin’ but precious.” He touched her cheek gently. “Trust me on this.”

She did trust him. This man who’d broken down doors to find her, who’d carried her to safety, who’d given her his cloak and his gentleness and his certainty that she was worth saving.

“Will I see ye again?” she asked suddenly. “After ye take me home?”

“Perhaps. Fletcher and Cameron lands arenae so far apart. And somethin’ tells me ye’re nae the type tae be easily forgotten.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “I’m only eleven.”

“Aye, but ye’re eleven and brave enough tae survive three months in a dungeon without breakin’. That’s nae naethin’, Isla Fletcher. Remember that.”

They rode through the next day, and as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, familiar landmarks appeared. Isla’s heart started racing as she recognized the hills near her home.

“Almost there,” Seoc said from behind her. “Can ye see the keep?”

“Aye.” Tears blurred her vision. “I can see it.”

As they approached the gates, people began to pour out of the castle. Isla saw her mother first, her dark hair flying as she ran down the path. Then her father, his face transformed by joy and relief.

“Isla! Isla, me darlin’ girl!”

Seoc brought the horse to a stop and Isla practically fell off, stumbling toward her parents on legs that barely worked. Her mother caught her first, dropping to her knees to pull Isla into an embrace so tight it drove the breath from her lungs.

“Me baby. Me sweet baby. Ye’re home. Ye’re finally home.”

“Maither.” The word came out as a sob. “Maither, I was so frightened.”

“I ken. I ken, darlin’. But ye’re safe now. Ye’re home.” Her father’s arms came around them both, and Isla found herself enveloped in the warmth and safety she’d dreamed about every night in that cold cell.

Eventually, she looked up to find Seoc still on his horse, watching the reunion with a soft smile.

“Wait. I need tae…” She moved back toward him, her legs shaky. “Thank ye. Thank ye fer comin’ fer me. Fer nae leavin’ me there.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He smiled at her. “Take care of yerself, Isla Fletcher. And remember, ye’re stronger than ye ken.”

“I’ll remember.” She wanted to say more, wanted to tell him that he was her hero, that she’d never forget him, that somehow she knew that moment would matter forever. But she was eleven and exhausted and overwhelmed, so she just whispered, “I’ll remember ye. I promise.”

“Good.” He nodded to her parents. “Laird Fletcher. Lady Fletcher. Yer daughter is home safe, as promised.”

“We’re in yer debt,” her father said, his voice thick with emotion. “Whatever ye need, whenever ye need it, ye have only tae ask.”

“Just take care of that brave lass. That’s payment enough.”

He wheeled his horse around and rode away, his men following. Isla watched until they disappeared over the hill, her hand pressed against the place where his cloak had been.

Someday, she promised herself. Someday I’ll be brave like him. Someday I’ll be strong enough to save people too.

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