Entwined

by Elizabeth Marshall

  We both paused, Simon tilting his head to look side long at me his features clouding and his eyes darkening to form a deadly serious look.

  “Who was this man?” he asked, with a sudden drop in his voice. I knew this to be his most dangerous tone.

  “He was just a rude man,” I dismissed. “It’s nothing to worry about. He just frightened me, I felt vulnerable and -”

  “Corran!” he interrupted, “Sit down and stop talking.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Sit down and stop rambling. There is something you should know.”

  I did as he asked and reached for the ancient cushioned chair, then clumsily lowered myself onto the worn seat. The expression on Simon’s face hadn’t altered when I looked up at him and I had an uneasy feeling that I wasn’t going to like what he was about to tell me.

  “Go on then,” I said, bracing myself, “What is it? I’d really rather know, because ever since you found out I was pregnant you have been strange with me.”

  “Aye, lass, that I have, but it’s not since you told me about the baby,” he paused as if collecting his thoughts, or perhaps deciding how much and in what way he should tell me.

  “Just tell me, Simon. I’m tired of games, tired of being shut out, and sick to death of being treated like a china doll.”

  He sighed, like an old man; weary of life, tired of the past, and afraid of the future. His shoulders sagged as if he carried the weight of the world upon them.

  “We have a problem…” he paused as if to collect himself. “Well, to be exact we have a few problems,” he said, running his hands through his long black curls.

  “We have a lot of them,” I replied, with a sudden sadness.

  “That journal you found wasn’t written by Angus,” he said, with air of resignation to his tone. His head remained bent, his eyes focused away from my face.

  “I already knew that.”

  “Those responsible for that journal were protecting the Highlands from a group much the same as Angus in nature. From what we can gather, Angus was part of a collective calling themselves the Dark Circle.”

  “So why did anyone have to protect the Highlands from them?”

  “Because, Corran, these people are driven by greed.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “They seek to bring death to the Stag and all those to whom it has granted immortality.”

  “Why would they want to kill the Stag?”

  “An old legend told that he who could slay the Stag would inherit its power.”

  “So this Dark Circle thinks that if they can kill the Stag they will get the power to choose who lives and dies?”

  “It is also said that a child will be born stronger and more powerful than all the magic of the highlands.”

  “Has this child been born yet?”

  “No lass, it hasn’t.”

  I paused thoughtfully. “Well, can’t we just look after the Stag in the meantime?” I said, recalling the vision I had experienced just after killing Angus. The Stag had told me it was injured then, but had assured me that it would heal. Perhaps I had been hasty in dismissing the experience as a trauma-induced delusion.

  Simon lifted his head and stared over me, towards the glass-fronted door. I half expected it to open given the look on his face.

  “Aye, that we could, but should this child fall into the wrong hands its power could be dangerous.”

  A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes and for a moment I thought he would say more, but silence fell over us. I felt afraid. My mind whirled with a million questions but I couldn’t think which one to ask first.

  “Maybe driving a knife through Angus’ ribs did us all a bigger favor than we thought,” I said.

  “Hmm, perhaps not,” he replied, lowering his eyes from the door to meet mine. “Angus was attempting to manipulate the legend to suit his own agenda, so, yes, it is best that he is gone. But he worked for the Dark Circle and they expected him to find something.”

  “Do you know what it was?” I asked hesitantly, for I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know.

  “Yes, we think we do know. Duncan and I think he may have found it and kept the discovery to himself.”

  “Simon, I don’t understand. Why would he do what they wanted him to, and then not tell them?”

  “Corran, we think he was trying to manipulate Rose into bearing the child from the legend.”

  “Does she know?” I said, feeling suddenly faint as the pulse at the side of my neck quickened.

  He lowered his head, casting his eyes to the ground again, unable to meet my look.

  “Aye, she knows.”

  “Is she alright? Why didn’t someone tell me? It wasn’t fair to leave her to deal with all this on her own. She’s been so kind and all she’s done is ask after me and the baby, when this whole time she must have been beside herself with terror.”

  “No lass, she is fine, really.”

  “I doubt that,” I muttered under my breath, vowing to talk to the girl as soon as I got the chance.

  “So why did you grumble when I suggested that getting rid of him was a good thing?” I asked.

  “Because Angus was our only link to the Dark Circle.”

  “Ahh,” I replied. “There must be another way to infiltrate this group.”

  “I don’t know, but I am working on it and so is Duncan. We have to find them first. That is… assuming they haven’t figured out who we are yet.”

  “You don’t suppose they know I killed Angus do you?” I said, suddenly realizing the danger we were all in.

  “I am almost certain they know that something has happened to him.”

  “Oh dear God,” I groaned, with an exhausted sigh. “How much danger are we in?”

  “A fair bit, lass, and that is why you need to stay away from this damn shop.”

  “What about Rose? What happens if they know what Angus was planning?” I whispered.

  “We are quite sure that they have no idea about Rose. If they had, she would be dead now. However, I need you both to stay off the streets. If you don’t, there is little I can do to protect you.”

  “But surely if they have figured out it was us who killed him then they will know by now where we are?”

  “Aye, now that you have shown your face in the shop again there is a fair chance they will know exactly who you are,” he said sardonically. “So you tell me, Corran, what am I supposed to do with you now?”

  “I’m sorry, Simon. I wish you had talked to me about all this sooner, then I would have understood. I just thought -”

  “I only sought to protect you, lass. The less you know, the less harm you will come to. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: you, Duncan, and that wee one are my world, and I will fight to the death to protect the lot of you.”

  “What are we going to do now?” I asked, prizing myself out of the ancient chair and moving to stand in front of him.

  He rested a hand gently on my swollen belly and kissed the side of my cheek. “We are going to find a coat that fits you. It’s going to be a long winter and this coat is already too small,” he said.

  I laughed, gently resting the palm of my hand over his and felt the baby move. “Did you feel that?” I asked, as another little flutter told me our baby was moving closer to the warmth of our hands on my tummy.

  “Aye, Corran, that I did.”

  “Do you think that was a hand or a foot?” I asked softly.

  “I couldn’t say, lass, but either way he felt strong enough.”

  “He? What makes you think it’s a he?”

  “Oh, just a hunch.”

  “A hunch? Well I’ve got a hunch it’s a girl so it looks like one of us is going to be wrong,” I laughed.

  ******

  CHAPTER 7

  After we left the shop that afternoon, the cozy, baby-filled world I had engrossed myself in came to a crashing end. I followed Simon almost constantly and, if it wasn’t Simon I was being told to fo
llow, it was Duncan.

  Much to my annoyance, I discovered that neither of them had attempted to run the shop as a business. The storeroom had been turned into a carefully-managed space filled with technical equipment, books, and unmarked boxes. After scanning the pages onto a memory stick, the journal had been locked away in a safety deposit box in a bank. More of a surprise was the fact that both Simon and Duncan had taken and passed their driving tests. I could scarcely believe how much they had done and all without a single word to me. I had never felt so out of touch with my husband and son.

  The nights drew in quickly and cold. It was going to be a wild winter, I had seen enough to know. As we made our way toward the river it crossed my mind how ridiculous I must have looked in the new, oversized coat.

  “Steady there, lass?” Simon said, tightening his hold on my hand as I lost my footing on some ice on my way down the steps of Skeldergate Bridge.

  “I’m fine. It’s a good job you had hold of me then though. I’d have gone down for sure if you hadn’t.”

  “Are you warm enough?”

  “Warmer than you. I’ve got my own little heating system right here,” I joked, gently patting my swollen belly.

  We continued past the Kings Arms public house and onto the steps of Ouse Bridge. So much of the city had changed and yet there were areas and odd buildings which remained eerily frozen in time.

  “Do you ever think about time?” I asked.

  “What do you mean, lass?”

  “You know… How it works?”

  “I think of little else,” he replied seriously.

  “Do you think we will ever go home?”

  We stopped walking and stood facing each other.

  “That depends on where you think home is,” Simon replied.

  When I thought about it, I wasn’t at all sure we had a place we could call home. Sometimes I thought of the farm as our home. Then there were occasions when I remembered our house in what is now Barley Hall and our time together when Duncan was a baby. The mysterious and dream-like encounter with the Stag had made me think of my childhood, the Glen, my family and friends. These were happy times, times; I missed but accepted as lost. Then there was the here and now, this new place and our life with Rose. It was a question I couldn’t answer. In the end they had all been home.

  “I don’t know. I miss so many people.”

  “Then perhaps home is not a place,” my husband said, taking my hand in his and leading me toward the city.

  Duncan and Rose were huddled over the laptop when we arrived at the shop.

  “Anyone for a bacon butty?” I asked, resting a brown paper bag on the counter beside the computer.

  “I knew there was a reason I loved you so much, Ma,” Duncan said, ferreting inside the bag.

  “Rose, I got you ketchup. It’s the one on the top.”

  “Ta, Corran. The bread from that place is ace,” Rose said, unwrapping her roll. “Mum and Gran used to love it,” she said, with a sad, gentle sigh.

  “It’s the smell of the place that gets me,” said Duncan.

  “The smell of any food draws you,” I replied, with a chuckle.

  “Aye, there aren’t many mornings where we have managed to walk past the café without buying something,” Simon said, with a broad smile.

  “Are you leaving that, Ma?” Duncan asked, screwing the wrapping from his sandwich up and hurling it into the paper bin across the room in much the same fashion as his father did.

  “Yes love, you have it,” I said, passing the roll over to him.

  “It’s not good for you or the baby not to eat,” Simon scolded. “Give that sandwich back to your mother.”

  Duncan dutifully tried to hand it back to me but I waved it away.

  “Honest, love, I won’t eat it. The baby pushes so much on my stomach that everything I eat gives me the most awful heartburn.”

  “I think you need to go back to your doctor, lass.”

  “I’m fine, Simon, really. As I said, it’s just because the baby is pushing its bottom against my tummy. There’s nothing the doctor can do about it. That’s just the way of being pregnant. Soon the baby will drop and then the heartburn will go away.”

  My husband didn’t look convinced but I was grateful for the fact that he didn’t push the matter because I had my own worries for the child. I had been bleeding, on and off, for the past few days. It wasn’t a lot and it wasn’t uncommon in pregnancy, but still the sight of any blood during a pregnancy was unsettling. I had already decided to see the doctor if the bleeding didn’t stop soon, but I didn’t want to worry anyone needlessly. Heaven knew we had enough to be getting on with.

  “Right, who wants to mind the front of the shop?” Duncan asked, swallowing his last mouthful.

  I didn’t want to spend the day hunched over laptops and books in the storeroom squinting at text for clues which I alone seemed to think weren’t there. I recalled the conversation I’d had with the Stag, just after I had killed Angus. Whatever darkness was coming our way would come regardless of our insight. Perhaps there was an argument to support Simon and Duncan’s attempts to prepare for it, but I didn’t believe we could change its course.

  “I’m happy to do it,” I offered enthusiastically.

  “Good,” replied Simon. “Rose and Duncan, you’re with me.”

  Rose rarely went to Barley Hall now. Her shifts had been cut due to the recession and a lack of tourists, or so she said. I wasn’t at all sure I believed her story. The city looked as busy as ever to me. Nonetheless I could hardly call her a liar and whatever her reasons, I was sure they were valid. Besides which, I enjoyed her company. I watched her as she followed Simon and Duncan into the back. She seemed happy enough and I wondered if that might have anything to do with Duncan. I glanced up at the small pane of glass in the shop door and noticed that it had started to snow. I wasn’t much looking forward to the walk home. Pretty much everything had become an enormous effort. I felt exhausted already and the day hadn’t yet begun. Sinking into the worn old chair, I closed my eyes.

  I must have fallen asleep for I was woken by the sound of the bell on the door. Confused and disorientated, I rubbed my eyes, blinking hard at the familiar hazy outline of a dog. I had seen her before, this beautiful creature with its fawn-colored coat and soulful eyes. She stood obediently beside a human figure - the strange woman with the worn brown coat from the park. Before I was able to rise from the chair, the woman was beside me, her face obscured by a heavy hood dusted with snow.

  “Corran, it’s Eilidh,” she whispered. “You are running out of time. Look at the back of the portrait,” she said turning to leave.

  “Eilidh,” I called out trying to hoist myself from the chair. “Wait. Please!”

  She stopped and turned sharply to face me. The hood of her coat slipped back enough to provide a glimpse of her face. As clear and fresh as the last time I had seen her, Eilidh smiled across at me.

  “I’ve got to go… I put us all in danger being here,” she breathed, before snapping the hood back over her head and disappearing through the door with the dog.

  I stared after her, wondering for a moment if I had been dreaming. Still wedged in the chair I looked around the room and noticed a small pool of melted snow on the floor boards where she and her dog had stood.

  “Simon!” I screamed, hoisting myself out of the chair and waddling across the shop toward the door.

  Simon, Duncan, and Rose appeared almost immediately from the storeroom, all pale faced and panicked by my scream.

  “Dear God, woman. What is it?” Simon boomed.

  I grabbed the door knob, twisted and pulled. The bell on the door rang loudly as I threw the door wide open.

  “It’s Eilidh, Simon. She’s here.”

  “There’s no one here, Corran. The shop is empty,” he said, patiently.

  “No, you don’t understand… I know she’s not here now but she was a minute ago.”

  “Corran come and sit down lass, you aren’t ta
lking sense,” Simon said, trying to guide me back to the chair.

  I pulled at him, trying to get back to the door.

  “I’ve just got out of the damn chair. I don’t need to sit down. I need you to go and find Eilidh.”

  “Alright, we’ll go and look for her but you have to tell us what happened first,” my husband said, gently wrapping his arms around my shaking body.

  “I… I sat down in that chair and I must have fallen asleep because I woke up when I heard the bell on the door. I saw the dog and then she was there, Simon, right where you are standing now.”

  “Lass, I think you were dreaming,” Simon said softly.

  “No, I wasn’t,” I said, pointing to the puddle of water on the floor. “Look, she had snow on her boots.”

  The three of them looked at the puddle of water and then back at me.

  “Ma, are you sure it was Eilidh?” Duncan asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Rose said, “but I don’t suppose someone will tell me who Eilidh is?”

  I was about to explain, to tell her everything when I stopped myself. In the heat of the moment I hadn’t bothered to consider the impact Eilidh’s return might have on Rose and Duncan. I hesitated, choosing my words carefully.

  “She is a young girl we knew… someone else whose life Angus destroyed,” I said, thinking that the rest of the story was Duncan’s to tell.

  “Corran, what did she say?” Simon asked, drawing the conversation back to his original question.

  “Something about a portrait… and to look at it.”

  “Which portrait, Corran?”

  “I don’t know… I was half asleep and… stunned to hear her voice…” I frowned in concentration, trying to recall her words. “She also said that she was putting us all in danger by being here.”

  “We’re done here,” Simon said, suddenly grabbing his coat.

  “Done? We’ve only just got here! And what about Eilidh?”

  “It’s precautionary, Corran. I think we should make ourselves scarce, just in case.”