His innocent ward

hmaben, Scotla

deous wails and screams of the dying but she was w

back and forth in icy shivering terror trying not to thin

so thirsty but she dared not pray for water. She was only too conscious of what would happen if it rained. How

' murderous rampage, they'd left her here to die. To slowly starve or dro

at. Heat swelled her eyes.

alone in the darkness there was nowhere to hide. They came,

angerous times, with the outlaw Earl of Carrick (King Robert, as he'd crowned himself) recently returned to Scotland after been forced to flee the year before, so many riders could be only one thing: bad. It was either more of Bruce's men seeking refuge in the outlaw king's anc

e fresh wave of English horror racing through her mind. Men drawn apart by horses, women raped, children beaten, cottages ransacked and burned, all in the effort to