Mary became more concerned as they made their way across the moors. Isabelle had grown too silent. She hadn’t spoken a word since her last outburst about mother. Mary couldn’t even get her to respond when she asked her a question. The responsibility for their safety rested solely upon her shoulders. What if the terror of their race through the night was too much for Isabelle?
Faintly through the mist Mary saw the outline of the trees bordering Sir Stewarts’ land. With relief she gently urged Isabelle to hurry for just a few more steps. Soon they would be in the seclusion of the woods, and out off the moors where there was no place to hide.
Together they made their way through the trees searching for a place to get some rest. The crackle of the leaves under their feet was much too loud. Surely someone would hear them and raise an alarm. Strangely there wasn’t a sound except the ones they were making. Mary didn’t know if that should bring comfort or fear. Everything around them seemed to be listening to their approach.
Finally Mary found a spot where she felt she and Isabelle would be well hidden. Gathering leaves she made a bed for them to lie upon. Isabelle’s silence continued to worry her, but she knew they must get some rest before sunlight exposed them. Covering Isabelle with her cloak she blew out her lantern and lay down beside her hoping to get a few moments of sleep.
©Susie Clevenger 2011