The Highwayman's Daughter

Chapter 1

      

On a September night, Autumn was ready to challenge her sister, Summer, for control of the south side of the mountain range. Those enjoying Summer's grace south of the mountain had watched Autumn's temper rise all afternoon as a small mass of clouds grew into a thunderstorm against the peak. As the sun set, it lit the clouds like an artists pallet and bright thick thunderbolts traveled across the cloud canvas.

Before dusk set into night,  Autumn proudly perched upon the mountain, her cloud cover stretching out before her, carrying her icy wet whispers down the cavernous cliff face to engulf the large patches of dense forest and flowered meadows that covered the foothills.

A dirt road skirted the mountain, weaving its way around and through the forest. As the road exited a patch of forest to cross a clearing, a carriage set still, its passengers gathering the last of their wealthy employers remaining belongings. Autumn's chill escalated their fear into panic and they had not retrieved everything when they were on their way once more.

Three sets of four masked highwaymen raced through the forest away from the carriage. Their mounts leather wrapped hooves made very little noise against the soft forest floor even though their saddlebags were filled to the brim. The cloaked men bent low over their mounts heads as the beasts turned and twisted in their flight up the hillside towards the rise. The clearing at the top was their assembly point where the three groups would gather and inspect their loot from a nights work. All twelve men reached their rally point and dismounted in the small clearing atop the rise. As a group, men and horses alike, each fought to bring air into their lungs and slow the pounding of their hearts after their quick flight. The men secured their reins to surrounding branches. Canteens were opened and sampled before being passed along to the next man. They held as silent and still as their burning lungs would allow, all awaiting the return of their leader who had circled back to ensure that they were not followed.

Minutes passed, and one by one, the dozen men were silently in agreement that 'twas time to head back and see what was keeping their fearless leader. But then the sounds that they had all been waiting to hear met their ears. As the muffled hoofbeats grew closer, each man turned to his saddlebags to inspect the loot they had just lifted from the heavily adorned, but under protected, carriage they had raided for the better part of the previous hour. Each man was quickly dismissing his concern for their leader's welfare.

The hoofbeats grew closer still, until a massive black beast broke through the tree line, racing towards them at an alarming speed. Not one mind present worried that the horse might not stop.

As the cloaked rider drew upon the reins in the middle of the clearing, the massive black charger reared back and spun, setting his hooves down, ready to set off the way he had just come. The small silhouette atop the massive horse expertly controlled the animal and kept him from bolting. The muscles rippled through the animal's foreleg as he knelt to allow his rider an easy dismount. The black cloak was swept back by a gloved hand, as black booted feet struck earth next to the beast's leather-wrapped hooves. The same gloved hand lifted to draw back the hood of the overlarge cloak. Thickly lashed, sapphire eyes searched the turned faces of the men.

"Dinnae tell me ye lads were worried." There was amusement evident within the slightly winded, feminine brogue.

Eleven sets of eyes lowered guiltily, but one pair lifted to meet the amused, blue orbs before him. "Oh, aye, we were worried, lass. Ye be the kind who seeks out trouble when ye should skirt it, arenae ye?"

Tory Sharpe swept the cloth away from the lower half of her face and her hair, allowing the fiery tresses of her Scottish heritage to flow freely in the breeze that swept through their glade. The cold breeze across her nape dried the perspiration that had formed from her adrenaline-filled flight through the forest. Her lips pursed into a heart-shaped pout as she contemplated her distant cousin's words. Gavin Blackwell had been her father's best friend and his most trusted man before he, her father, had... Died. Though Gavin could be a bit of the negative sort, he was the one she trusted the most out of her band of a dozen men.