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escape.
    Lord Wessex stomped around the room. With his face burning red, he turned to both men and hollered, “We will search this place from top to bottom if we have to. If she is indeed gone then she has already admitted her guilt. Send the men and dogs out after her. Let it be known, if anyone offers her aid, they too will be charged with treason for aiding in her escape.”
    “My Lord, she may have Scottish sympathizers, she did release their people. They will want to protect her,” Richard asked.
    Knowing that Richard was correct, Lord Wessex suggested, “Then we will offer them a bounty they will not refuse. Forty pieces of silver for her capture and return.”
    “Aye, My Lord,” Richard said as he bowed his head and exited the room with Wayland.
    Once outside the room, Richard turned to Wayland. “I know she is your sister but I must insist that you do not interfere.”
    “You know what will happen if she is caught.”
    “Yes, I know.”
     
     
    Towards the end of the passageway, Jacqueline saw a gleam of light ahead. Gushes of cold air blew down the tunnel as she got closer to the opening of the cave. As walls began to widen, Jacqueline slowed her pace. It wasn’t until she stepped into the small hollowed-out cave that she began to worry of what creatures may be seeking shelter inside. Knowing that the cave was still too close to the castle, she headed out through the woods.
    Puddles of water and snow froze her toes as she ran but she would not stop. Wrapped in only her nightgown and hooded robe, Jacqueline shivered from the cold. Never before had she been allowed to venture out of the castle unescorted before. She prayed that she would stumble upon the freed men she had saved and ask for protection.
    Jacqueline continued to run until her legs could take no more. Finding a small enclosure in between some thick bushes, she sat down to give herself a moment to catch her breath. It had felt as if she had been running for hours. Leaning up against a tall, mature oak tree, Jacqueline wrapped her robe tightly around herself and nestled within the protection of the surrounding bushes and closed her eyes.
     
     
    Ewan raced his horse through the small village of Galston warning the villagers of the English who closely followed behind them. Knowing that the blackguards would tear through every croft in order to find the escaped prisoners, Ewan needed to ensure their safety. People scattered as they rode through. In the middle of the village stood a husky man with his arms crossed out in front of him. Aron paced around him in a circle while Ewan pulled back on his reins.
    “My name is Ewan MacKinnon. We are seeking refuge from the English. They ride just beyond the hill.”
    “Are ye saying that ye led the English here? Are ye daft? There be mostly woman and children here. We have no’ nearly enough men to defend ourselves,” a heavy-set man within the crowd barked at Ewan. 
    “I mean ye no trouble. They are after them,” Ewan nodded in the direction of the sickly group of men. Continuing he explained, “These men are our Scottish brothers, held captive in the dungeons of England. They are sick with illness and disease and need to be attended to. Will ye show them no pity?”
    Ewan watched the man’s eyes move back and forth from person to person as if he was assessing their injuries.
    Nodding his head, he replied, “Aye. Name’s Athol McDaniel. We will do what we can, but I can no’ guarantee yer safety or theirs. Ye must ride through the forest across the glen. There ye will find shelter that should suit ye. It will take ye about a half day’s ride. It is no’ easily found but should provide ye shelter. Ye can take the men there. Me wife Mary will accompany ye and attend to yer sick. We will lead the English from this place. If there is no sign of ye and if they are desperate to find ye, they will move on their way.”
    “Thank ye, Athol of Galston.”
    Ewan waited as Mary climbed onto the back of