"You remind me of my daughter back home." To Murron, this comparison
was like venom. She frantically turned and quickened her pace, wanting only
to continue with her day. As she rounded a corner, she came to an abrupt
stop, finding herself facing Smythe once more.
"Hello, lassie," he issued, a sinister grin upon his somewhat wrinkled face. She turned in a state of panic, only to find that she was surrounded by these filthy men. It was only moments later that she found herself on the ice-cold ground, her body crushed by the weight of Smythe's.
His foul breath drifted past her as she struggled to break free. Smythe grasped her pounding wrists tightly, planting a hungry kiss on her delicately shaped jaw. A terrified cry escaped her as she writhed helplessly beneath him.
"Please," she pleaded in a strained voice, "let me go."
"Oh, I will lass, don't you worry, just as soon as I get what I want." he took in her feminine essence, letting it flood his lungs.
A sob escaped Murron's rosy lips as she fought to escape. It was just then that one of the soldiers stepped forward and tapped Smythe on the shoulder.
"Let 'er be, Smythe, let's be going," he issued, feeling somewhat sorry for the poor girl.
With a last longing glance at the beauteous woman that was before him, he relented and returned to his feet, leaving Murron still with shock on the rocky surface.
"I have a feeling we'll be meeting again, lassie," he said with a mischievous wink, and with that he stalked away, his accomplices following dutifully behind him.
A sigh of relief was emitted as Murron quickly stood, smoothing her creased dress. Her heartbeat began to slow as she made her way back to the road. She could only wonder what might become of home, what with these savage soldiers roaming the village.
She glanced back to make sure that Smythe and his men were gone, and seeing no sign of them she turned around. She gasped when she ran straight into someone.
"Are ye alright?" came the concerned voice of William Wallace. Relaxing a bit, she looked up into the eyes of her new husband.
"Just fine." she said, though her voice was unconvincing. Her eyes traveled to her feet. Giving her a look of suspicion, William cupped her fragile chin in his hands and tilted her gaze upward. He could see the fear that still lingered in her eyes.
"My god, Murron, what happened?" he inquired, having taken notice of not only her jittery state, but also her dirt-smudged and torn clothing.
"Nothing, it was just. nothing. I'm fine," she assured him, trying to forget about the earlier event.
Though he did not believe her, he decided it best to not force her to talk about it.
"Very well then," he issued, and then paused for a moment. Catching sight of MacClannough, he stroked her cheek lightly. "Ye haven't forgotten about tonight, no?"
"Never," she said, and with that at mind, William turned and started off, leaving Murron to fantasize about the coming night.
"Hello, lassie," he issued, a sinister grin upon his somewhat wrinkled face. She turned in a state of panic, only to find that she was surrounded by these filthy men. It was only moments later that she found herself on the ice-cold ground, her body crushed by the weight of Smythe's.
His foul breath drifted past her as she struggled to break free. Smythe grasped her pounding wrists tightly, planting a hungry kiss on her delicately shaped jaw. A terrified cry escaped her as she writhed helplessly beneath him.
"Please," she pleaded in a strained voice, "let me go."
"Oh, I will lass, don't you worry, just as soon as I get what I want." he took in her feminine essence, letting it flood his lungs.
A sob escaped Murron's rosy lips as she fought to escape. It was just then that one of the soldiers stepped forward and tapped Smythe on the shoulder.
"Let 'er be, Smythe, let's be going," he issued, feeling somewhat sorry for the poor girl.
With a last longing glance at the beauteous woman that was before him, he relented and returned to his feet, leaving Murron still with shock on the rocky surface.
"I have a feeling we'll be meeting again, lassie," he said with a mischievous wink, and with that he stalked away, his accomplices following dutifully behind him.
A sigh of relief was emitted as Murron quickly stood, smoothing her creased dress. Her heartbeat began to slow as she made her way back to the road. She could only wonder what might become of home, what with these savage soldiers roaming the village.
She glanced back to make sure that Smythe and his men were gone, and seeing no sign of them she turned around. She gasped when she ran straight into someone.
"Are ye alright?" came the concerned voice of William Wallace. Relaxing a bit, she looked up into the eyes of her new husband.
"Just fine." she said, though her voice was unconvincing. Her eyes traveled to her feet. Giving her a look of suspicion, William cupped her fragile chin in his hands and tilted her gaze upward. He could see the fear that still lingered in her eyes.
"My god, Murron, what happened?" he inquired, having taken notice of not only her jittery state, but also her dirt-smudged and torn clothing.
"Nothing, it was just. nothing. I'm fine," she assured him, trying to forget about the earlier event.
Though he did not believe her, he decided it best to not force her to talk about it.
"Very well then," he issued, and then paused for a moment. Catching sight of MacClannough, he stroked her cheek lightly. "Ye haven't forgotten about tonight, no?"
"Never," she said, and with that at mind, William turned and started off, leaving Murron to fantasize about the coming night.