knife.
Alex felt a surge of anger. He considered refusing, but because Groenie'd given them the extra bowl of stew, he stumbled to his feet.
The meal had made him feel sleepy. He wanted to curl up somewhere, just about anywhere, tuck a blanket under his chin, and fall asleep. He forced himself to investigate the yoke. It was no more than a long stick with hooks on either end. There was a flat section in the middle to rest across his shoulders.
The boys headed for the loch, empty buckets swinging from their yokes, and approached the split rock. Abruptly, two burly guards stepped forward, barring the path with their spears. “Halt! Where do ye think ye're going?”
“We're off to get water.” Alex thought this must be obvious, seeing how they were carrying empty buckets, but the guards did not move. “Groenie sent us,” he added.
One of the guards hesitated. He jerked his head in the direction of the path and lifted his spear out of the way. “Off ye go, then.”
The other guard protested. “Rorie said no one was to leave camp. No exceptions is what he said.”
“Dinnae be daft. Groenie needs water to cook. D'ye want a meal at the end of the day or no? Besides, he'll cut off their thumbs if they come back empty-handed.”
“Aye, true.” The guard chuckled. “We don't want any more of 'm in our stew.”
“Keep an eye out for any scouts Hesselrigge may have running about,” said the first guard. “If ye're no back in ten minutes, we'll send some men out to look for ye.”
The other guard laughed. “To look for what's left of 'm, ye mean to say.”
Alex spotted more guards high up on the rocks overlooking the trail. He felt their watchful eyes following them as they passed. Well along the path, Craig stopped and pointed into the woods. “Let's take a shortcut – the loch is just over that rise.”
Trudging through the dense forest, Alex tried to keep his buckets from banging against trees. The noise made him nervous. He recalled his encounter with the thieves all too well.
Once over the rise, sure enough, the loch came into view. The late-afternoon sun flashed off windblown ripples. They came to the water's edge at a rocky section, where they couldlower and fill their buckets without getting their feet wet.
“My favorite hiding place is around that bend.” Craig nodded towards a steep embankment. “Let's check it out before we head back.”
Stepping-stones in the water allowed them to follow the shoreline past the embankment. About to round the bend, Craig stopped and pulled back abruptly.
Alex bumped into him, waving his arms to keep from slipping into the water. “Watch it, will you?”
“Shh!
There are people over there.”
“People? What do they look like?”
“Soldiers. They're wearing armor and they have swords and shields.”
“Let me see.” Alex squeezed past Craig and peered around the embankment. Horses were grazing on clumps of grass at the water's edge. Several soldiers sat with their backs against the trees, watching over them. From behind the tree line came flashes of sun reflecting off metal. Men were moving about within the forest.
Alex's eyes fixed on one person – a man who wore a red-dyed deerskin jacket. The man turned and stared, as if aware of being watched.
Fearing he was spotted, Alex scrambled back quickly, leaping from stone to stone.
“What about the buckets?” Craig called.
“Forget about them. Run!” Alex said, heart pounding.
Alex and Craig sprinted back up the trail. They knew the guards would be watching from high up on the rocks. Sure enough, they stood with their bows drawn.
“I hate haggis,” Alex gasped without slowing down.
Panting heavily, they ran up to the tent where they had last seen Wallace and Sir Ellerslie. They tried to rush past a guard at the entrance, but the guard grabbed them roughly by the arms and held them back.
“Into the hold with 'm!” he roared.
Two other guards rushed forward and seized the boys.
“Sir
Alex felt a surge of anger. He considered refusing, but because Groenie'd given them the extra bowl of stew, he stumbled to his feet.
The meal had made him feel sleepy. He wanted to curl up somewhere, just about anywhere, tuck a blanket under his chin, and fall asleep. He forced himself to investigate the yoke. It was no more than a long stick with hooks on either end. There was a flat section in the middle to rest across his shoulders.
The boys headed for the loch, empty buckets swinging from their yokes, and approached the split rock. Abruptly, two burly guards stepped forward, barring the path with their spears. “Halt! Where do ye think ye're going?”
“We're off to get water.” Alex thought this must be obvious, seeing how they were carrying empty buckets, but the guards did not move. “Groenie sent us,” he added.
One of the guards hesitated. He jerked his head in the direction of the path and lifted his spear out of the way. “Off ye go, then.”
The other guard protested. “Rorie said no one was to leave camp. No exceptions is what he said.”
“Dinnae be daft. Groenie needs water to cook. D'ye want a meal at the end of the day or no? Besides, he'll cut off their thumbs if they come back empty-handed.”
“Aye, true.” The guard chuckled. “We don't want any more of 'm in our stew.”
“Keep an eye out for any scouts Hesselrigge may have running about,” said the first guard. “If ye're no back in ten minutes, we'll send some men out to look for ye.”
The other guard laughed. “To look for what's left of 'm, ye mean to say.”
Alex spotted more guards high up on the rocks overlooking the trail. He felt their watchful eyes following them as they passed. Well along the path, Craig stopped and pointed into the woods. “Let's take a shortcut – the loch is just over that rise.”
Trudging through the dense forest, Alex tried to keep his buckets from banging against trees. The noise made him nervous. He recalled his encounter with the thieves all too well.
Once over the rise, sure enough, the loch came into view. The late-afternoon sun flashed off windblown ripples. They came to the water's edge at a rocky section, where they couldlower and fill their buckets without getting their feet wet.
“My favorite hiding place is around that bend.” Craig nodded towards a steep embankment. “Let's check it out before we head back.”
Stepping-stones in the water allowed them to follow the shoreline past the embankment. About to round the bend, Craig stopped and pulled back abruptly.
Alex bumped into him, waving his arms to keep from slipping into the water. “Watch it, will you?”
“Shh!
There are people over there.”
“People? What do they look like?”
“Soldiers. They're wearing armor and they have swords and shields.”
“Let me see.” Alex squeezed past Craig and peered around the embankment. Horses were grazing on clumps of grass at the water's edge. Several soldiers sat with their backs against the trees, watching over them. From behind the tree line came flashes of sun reflecting off metal. Men were moving about within the forest.
Alex's eyes fixed on one person – a man who wore a red-dyed deerskin jacket. The man turned and stared, as if aware of being watched.
Fearing he was spotted, Alex scrambled back quickly, leaping from stone to stone.
“What about the buckets?” Craig called.
“Forget about them. Run!” Alex said, heart pounding.
Alex and Craig sprinted back up the trail. They knew the guards would be watching from high up on the rocks. Sure enough, they stood with their bows drawn.
“I hate haggis,” Alex gasped without slowing down.
Panting heavily, they ran up to the tent where they had last seen Wallace and Sir Ellerslie. They tried to rush past a guard at the entrance, but the guard grabbed them roughly by the arms and held them back.
“Into the hold with 'm!” he roared.
Two other guards rushed forward and seized the boys.
“Sir
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