The second arch in the bridge was completed by the end of summer.

When fall arrived they were given skins with which to make crude individual shelters under the limbs of the trees. It wasn't much, but it was more than they had before and it offered some measure of privacy if a man finally succumbed to his tears. Stefan did not but he was tempted to.

In his more desperate moments, he wondered if God had forgotten him or if he had committed some unspeakable offense, but Stefan could think of no sin that serious. At length, he remembered to be grateful God was protecting Kannak and Jirvel instead. It seemed to ease his mind considerably.

The privacy of the skins made it easier for a man to untie his hands and feet and then make good his escape. Three tried and met their deaths before they got to the edge of the encampment. There were simply too many guards and as badly as Stefan wanted to, he was not willing to die in the attempt. He wanted to get back to Kannak and live long enough to make her his bride.

The third arch was finished in late fall and winter lay ahead. He was not allowed to ask what day or even what month it was and the marking of time was only certain in the seasons and the passing of each Sabbath.

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The good thing about winter in Scotland was the lack of daylight which meant shorter hours of work. That gave the slaves more time to develop a language without speech using their hands and their eyes. The slow closing and opening of the eyes meant a guard was coming and the faster blink meant the guards were going away. Still, he knew none of their names and nothing about them.

They were together, but each man was alone in his thoughts and the loneliness was sometimes unbearable. They could roll their eyes and make very slight hand gestures, but unless they were willing to face the whip, they dared not do more.

The bad thing about winter was the slowness in which the fourth arch was completed and the number of hours Stefan had to fret over Kannak and her mother. Winter meant he had been away for nearly a year and surely they thought him dead. He still sent his nightly mental message to his love, but he had a nagging fear she had chosen another and married. The thought of another man touching her made him furious and now he understood how Macoran felt when Jirvel married Eogan. It was a torture worse than being enslaved or even whipped.




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