Sneak Peek The Highland Raven
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
Rumi couldn’t have written a more vivid theme for The Highland Raven. It is as if the Sufi master wrote this line with Sable Montgomery in mind. Of course, he didn’t. Duh!
Sable is so troubled and so desperate at the book’s beginning that she’s about to marry her best friend, whom she knows she doesn’t love as a partner, to get herself out of the mess she’s entangled in.
The Second World War raging in this Resistance Girl novel almost pales compared to Sable’s personal trauma. It isn’t the war Sable fears, not even death, but she’s horrified by her own past. Some parents aren’t fit to be parents - this also applies to real life, alas - and Sable’s mother, Misty Fletcher, is certainly one of those.
For an author, it is rewarding and hard to depict a character so bruised by life, especially if the character is adept at hurting others as a means of survival. I fretted Sable might be too unlikable, but if you, as the reader, keep Rumi’s quote in mind, you’ll be able to forgive Sable’s initial shenanigans. At least, I hope you will.
Here’s a sneak peek into the life of our tough cookie when she’s a SOE agent in France… (still not 100% edited!)
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It was a perfect night for an act of sabotage to be executed slick as a whistle. The night was dry and humid, windless, with no rain, no stars, and sufficient fog to see for those who want to see but not to be seen. The station was at half a mile away from the village town center on an elevated embankment, at a suitable distance from preying eyes.
Total silence reigned because of the curfew. Only one car rambled by on the ring road on its way to Libourne. In this remote part of France, German officers preferred to wine and dine in the nearby town of Libourne or even travel down to Bordeaux.
There was no need for night vigilance here. No one suspected anything to happen in Coutras, which made it a perfect place to destruct the Germans' vital rail artery to the south-west coast.
Sable and Freddie lay side-by-side on their stomachs on a knoll of grass surveying the Kriegslokomotive of the DRB Class 52. They were waiting for two Frenchmen of the Résistance-Fer, the so-called cheminots, who would instruct Sable in placing the explosives.
She felt it was her duty to take the responsibility for the sabotage so that the local men who worked on the French rail system would technically be in the clear. All her Beaulieu training would prove if it was ultimately useful for actual operations.
Freddie had insisted on being there with her.
"Wouldn't want to miss my blue-blooded sister dynamite a Nazi iron horse."
Sable had protested. "Why endanger both of us? There's no need, Maurice. It's a hit-and-run act and these men know what they do. One's on watch, the other checks my work. The fewer people involved, the better."
But there had been no changing Freddie's mind, so Sable had conceded and now was actually glad to have her brother near during her first big mission on her own.
The raspy croak of a night heron sounded once. Her sign. Two dark shadows crept along the railroad track, only visible to those who knew what to look for. Her cheminots, men from the village Sable had never met but trusted as underground resistance fighters. Simple workers, men, and women, who obstructed the occupiers wherever they could, as thousands of French citizens did day by day all over France. The very foundation on which her SOE could function.
"Good luck," Freddie whispered, "I'll keep my eyes peeled."
"Night owl hoot twice in case of danger." Sable whispered, as she was already crawling forwards towards the stolid locomotive, silhouetted as a massive black against the charcoal, starless sky.
No words were exchanged. The silence of the night reigned as Sable took the plastic explosives from her backpack. A tall shadow beckoned her to come closer while the other shadow went to the locomotive's front and stationed himself in the middle of the tracks, from where he could stake out the entire region.
Both at Beaulieu and again that morning, Sable had studied the various components of the steam engine so closely that she'd be able to find the red cylinder blocks low near the wheels even with a blindfold. The explosives would crack the cast iron blocks. It was vital to break this part of the engine, as the Germans didn't keep spare cylinder blocks as they hardly ever wore out on their own. The blast would not only wreck the locomotive but have enough power to deform the railroad itself.
With swift hands, she attached the innocent-looking plastic bars to the cylinders with nylon ties. The cheminot was near at hand and checked her every action. His whispered 'parfait' gave her the confidence, she was now an adroit explosive's expert. One last check and she was at the ready. The shadow insisted on giving her the all-clear she didn't need.
"Lit the wick and run as fast as your legs can carry you. You've got eighty seconds before the flame reaches the blasting cap."
"I know. You do the same. A bientôt." Sable couldn't help sounding indignant. Who was in charge of this operation?
It was the fastest eighty-seconds' run of her life. Not even bothering to check if her accomplices had also left the scene of the crime, Sable ran with all she had inside of her. Away from the village and away from the expected explosion. The team would meet at a pre-agreed place at dawn. Until then, it was everyone for themselves.
The shock waves of sound and the flames shooting high into the sky, temporarily deafened and blinded Sable but she kept running on, low to the ground, leaping like a mountain cat. The explosions were still ringing out with debris landing everywhere, but she managed to increase the distance between her and the station, away from the built areas. The blackout made lights inside houses unseen, but she heard French voices, villagers daring to withstand the curfew to see what had caused the blow-up. Dogs barked and rattled on chains. Then the siren of a fire engine sounded, coming nearer.
Her lungs burnt, her legs were as lead while her rucksack felt as if filled with fifty-stone bricks. Still, she urged herself on, not daring to stop until she would be well out of earshot and protected by the thick forest around her. Only then she allowed herself to slow down.
A blast so forceful must mean the dynamite had done its righteous, ruining job. The mission's success made Sable feel victorious, full of vim and vigor, though at the same time she was aware how odd it was to feel so pumped up after an act of destruction.
"It's what I came here for!" She reminded herself, still panting from the run, her heart thumping, and her throat dry. What a crazy day it had been!
In the forest a couple of miles west of Coutras, Sable made her bed of leaves near the shore of the Dronne River. During her SOE training, she'd taken part in a variety of survival trips, some of them for several days, with only a compass and the bare minimum to find her way back to camp.
So, sleeping in the open air and creating a warm and safe hiding place was not the issue. The only difference being that it had been in the safe homeland and not in a strange country under enemy occupation.
Knowing she would have to sleep with only half her brain, so she'd wake to the slightest sound, Sable lay down on her back, her hands folded on her stomach under the leaves. Her Colt Commando 38 revolver at close reach. She relaxed her body while her head was awake. It worked the first hours, waking and listening, listening and waking, but in the end, she was so exhausted that she missed a vigil... and slept a little longer.
She woke to something wet in her face, a sniffing dog, then heard voices. Blast! On opening her eyes, her hand going to her gun, she looked straight up into the snout of a black-eyed German Shepard. Stealthily, she shoved the gun back in her pocket. It was no use shooting now. A rough German voice called out.
"Gefunden!"
Before she knew what was happening, two Germans in Wehrmacht uniforms dragged her to her feet. Thank God she'd slept with her rucksack as a cushion. It eased down her back and sank into place. The layer of leaves she'd used to cover herself fell around her feet as if she'd let drop a colorful skirt. Fully awake now, she registered two Germans, a dog, and a Kubelwagen in between the trees. Not good news by any measure.
The Highland Raven comes out on 27 September. Now on preorder!
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