Amber Flame

Amber Flame

Copyright 2015 Cait Perez

Published by Cait Perez at Smashwords

Edited by Karstina Poff

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this e-book. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Disclaimer

The locations, movies, products, and such, are mostly all real. I looked up much of these using internet search engine, Google. The active story characters, however, are not. If I accidentally managed to make any one of my characters seem like you, it was not intentional, and I hope they are the good guys.

Dedication

As I look to continue writing there are so many I would like to thank.

My editor, Karstina (Bergquist) Poff is so encouraging I would likely not be able to write without her kind words. Also, my husband is one of the reasons I write. He is the one I care for the most and would do anything to help.

I would also like to dedicate this book to those readers who give me a chance to write something they would enjoy reading.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

To My Readers

About the Author

Chapter 1

Siobhan awoke to the sound of a whip behind her back. She felt that her arms were tied and extended out from her sides, along with her feet, which were straddled and tied to two strong tree trunks. She felt the crack of the whip as it split the skin across her shoulders once more. She thought that it would end when she passed out from the pain.

Apparently her captors were not given to sympathy for a woman, no matter how small or foreign she was. She really should have known better since she was a victim of this cruelty for the past five years.

She bit her tongue until she felt blood seeping from the deep cut the whip made on her throat as it wrapped around her neck with the last strike. She refused to cry out in pain which was likely the reason that she was still being punished. The Saracens did not strike merely for punishment, but for the pain they could inflict upon this small, insignificant woman.

Several more strikes later, Siobhan passed out from the pain, Zaman seemed to take a small bit of pity, or maybe killing the woman would waste an investment. The guards cut her down from her bondage at his command.

Once she was released from the ropes, however, he demanded his men to throw her into the same shallow pit she was pulled from not three hours previously. Zaman Tal’at was not feeling pity, he was bored with the process.

Let me know when she awakes he nodded to his captain. I will do so, master. The captain, Yasin Ilham, bowed and turned to leave.

Then, changing subjects, Zaman added I do hate this country, Scotland. The air is heavy, the grass is damp, the men are uncivilized. I cannot bear to stay here much longer. I wish to be back in the sand and dry air of my home.

Siobhan awoke the moment her beaten and bloody body hit the floor of the shallow pit. She rolled to her stomach and feigned sleep in order to get some rest and build her strength. She did not want to get sick and die in this pit at the bottom of a hole in the lowlands of Scotland. It was bad enough she had spent the past five years being a trained captive; used to take the lives of her fellow Scots, and she would not allow Zaman and his band of Saracens to take her life.

A small slave boy was standing in the shadows, watching, as she was thrown into the pit. He had managed to remove a small, curved dagger from one of the soldiers that stood near their leader undetected. He ducked low, and followed the curtained tents until he was outside of the encampment. He bolted for the sand dunes once free. He knew that his mother might not survive his theft, and neither would his hand, but he had to do something to help this brave woman who was taking the punishment that he should have received when he stole the apples and small chunk of bread for his hungry family. He was risking a great deal for the stranger because she saved him from the Saracen masters.

When darkness fell, the guards began drinking their strong wine. The boy was still lurking, hiding behind horses and clumps of dry shrubbery waiting for his chance to see to helping the woman get free. He walked out from behind one large shrub and, carrying a wine flask, offered to pour more wine for the guards outside of the shallow sand pit that was holding the woman who saved his right hand. The stolen dagger was hidden in a small pocket in his breeches.

The guards took the wineskin from the boy and backhanded him, causing him to fall onto the ground. The child did not cry out, however, and instead laughed at the men. This caused the guards to begin laughing at the boy. Sajjad began jumping around in the sand like a monkey, entertaining the men until the last one passed out from the drink. Then he hurried toward the pit and, cutting the rope that tied the pit shut, he reached down and helped pull the semi-conscious Siobhan from their depths. He put his finger to his lips as the slight and very battered woman emerged from the hole dug in the ground. She waited for the boy to look around before she crawled the rest of the way out of the hole in the ground.

Like a snake, she slithered from the pit as the boy quietly shut the gate back down onto the hole. Then he walked, cat-like behind her and they ducked behind a shrub.

Why do ye save me neck, child? Siobhan asked, very concerned that her actions to save his hand were for naught now that he was helping her to escape. I have just taken the whip for ye, and ye are putting yerself in more danger even though. She was not happy with Sajjad, but she was also relieved that he is brave and helped her from her captivity.

I could not let you die in that hole. There are adders in the grass, and humans who sting even worse. You did me a great favor, mistress, and I would not feel that your kindness was to my benefit if you died for my crime. Sajjad said matter of factly.

Ye are no more than a bairn. I wouldnae let anything happen to ye. She replied.

I may be young at 8 years, but I am no babe. I have grown up hard and fast because of the fear and starvation that my family and others like us have suffered from in this unnecessary war that the men who cry out for power wage against all who do not agree with them.

Do ye nae follow their wisdom, then? she asked sarcastically.

I believe in the one true God, mistress. I do not agree with the teachings of the men of my village. I cannot see the justice in treating people with so little mercy when all they want to do is feed their family. Sajjad responded as he shrugged.

Och, ye are Christian in this land of infidels, then? she asked, surprised that this small boy had such a distinctly different point of view from those he lived around.

Yes, I am a Christian. My mother is concerned for my safety. She is not a Christian and she prays to her Allah every day for my safety and enlightenment. She sorely worries that I may not be alive to see manhood.

Well, to save me life, I must be saving yers, I ken. Let us make haste from this campsite before we are discovered behind this bush. I am bleeding and it wouldnae be long before it streams across the sand and lets all ken where we are hiding. Siobhan grabbed the boy by the arm and led him further from the camp in the shadows that were growing with the night.

She shivered as the boy pulled away from her and ran quickly toward a leather sack that was buried under sand behind the great tent. We cannot leave this here, mistress. I have collected medicines to help you with your back. There are also some blankets and clothes here for us as well.

Aye, that would be helpful and very welcome, indeed, laddie. Thank ye for yer kind thoughts for me welfare. Let’s make haste, aye?

Yes, let’s leave this place now. He whispered and like a ghost, he fled the campsite and took her through a sparse grove of trees. Once they cleared the trees and were close to the other edge away from the campsite, the boy showed how much ingenuity he possessed by pulling a large Arabian stallion from behind a large dune. We can take him and leave faster; before the guards wake from their drunken slumber. He said as she smiled at him and ruffled his hair.

If me back didnae pain me so much, I’d give ye a great big hug, ye brilliant, brilliant lad! Sajjad smiled and patted Siobhan on the knee, the only part of her body that did not appear to be too badly beaten or bruised.

She helped the boy mount the horse and then struggled to get herself upon the high back. The small boy reached down and did his best to pull her as she put her foot into the stirrup. Finally, after a bit of a struggle, she was behind the boy on the back of the horse. She kicked the horse’s haunches with her bare heels, wincing from the abrupt searing pain of her back. The horse ran quickly from the camp and to the northwest toward the highlands—toward home.

When Siobhan and Sajjad were well away from the camp the sun was already beginning to rise in the east, shining off her reddish blond hair, creating the illusion of amber flames. Her blue eyes were sparkling from the tears that refused to fall, and her lips were spread wide into a smile.

The joy in seeing that she was very close to her highlands did not take away from the weakness that was beginning to spread through her. She was in dire need of a healer. The cuts and tears from the whip lashes across her back were still bleeding and at risk of festering from lack of care.

She slumped over the boy in her arms and he took her slight weight with some effort. After a while, though, he was also becoming very tired. He began looking for a place they could stop and rest for a few moments.

The lad spotted a copse of trees on the horizon and sped up the stallion so that he could get the lady someplace safe to rest.

They reached the trees in only a few minutes and Siobhan slipped from the horse without even trying to catch herself. She fell with a thud to the ground, Sajjad stopped, very worried. Not, however, for himself but for the woman who had risked her own life to help save his.

He jumped from the saddle and landed silently at the woman’s side. He touched her forehead and felt the fire of her fever emanating through her skin. He immediately ran toward the small burn that was hidden within the trees, carrying an oiled cloth with him. He scooped up as much water as he could carry and brought it back to the woman. The horse was shading her from the heat of the morning sun, the dew on the grass helped to keep her cool. When the boy trickled the water from the oilcloth onto her skin, she began to writhe as if in pain.

After the cloth was empty, he took a soft wool blanket from the bag he retrieved at the Saracen camp, and laid it out onto the ground. He managed to roll Siobhan onto the blanket, face down. When he saw her back he gasped.