After a sailor brushed past not even giving her a second glance, she strolled at a normal pace until she reached the barrel, turned full circle, and dropped her things inside. She chanced another scan of the courtyard and set the lid on a neighboring barrel. Planting both hands on the rim, she hefted herself up, straightening her arms. The barrel teetered as she raised her knee. Encumbered by her skirts, she couldn’t swing her miserable leg high enough.

Curses!

The men had all but three of the sheep loaded on the wagon.

Divana’s gaze darted to a quarter barrel. If she didn’t hide now, she’d be caught for certain. Quickly, she shoved the smaller cask beside her empty barrel. Using the wee cask as a step she climbed atop, grabbed her skirts, and leaped inside, landing on the watered wine and twisting her ankle.

“Ow!” she hissed, rubbing away the pain. Holding her breath, she dared to peek over the rim. Thank goodness Lachie Mor wasn’t marching over, swinging his cat-o’-nine-tails in a rage. In fact, no one had seemed to notice. She snatched the cover and pulled it over her head.

Sitting for a moment, she blinked while her eyes adjusted to the dim light. A sliver of daylight shone through the cork hole and her knees were a bit cramped, but there was no chance in Hades she’d entertain a change of heart now.

Divana’s heartbeat thundered in her ears as heavy footsteps neared. Would she be caught?

“Why haven’t these barrels been loaded?” bellowed the quartermaster, thumping the side of Divana’s cask, nearly making her squeal. Her erratic pulse hammered. And if she’d jolted any higher, she would hit her head on the lid and give her hiding place away. Trying to calm her racing heart, she clapped her hands over her mouth and held her breath, ready for the humiliation to come.

A myriad of footsteps crunched about her barrel.

Did the quartermaster know she was within? Had anyone seen her?

Her question was answered when someone laid her barrel on its side and rolled it! Divana clutched her possessions tightly to her breast as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to swallow back the bile and shortbread being sloshed in her stomach.

If I can survive on Hyskeir—I can survive this!

*  *  *

But Divana was wrong.