by Jane Stain
16
Meehall waited until Sarah's breathing was regular so that he knew she was asleep, and then he rifled through her backpack. There had to be a medkit in here. She had everything else. Ah, he found it. And good, there was a sterile needle and thread, along with a local anesthetic.
If he didn't stitch her wound closed, it would scar, and she would hate that. Oh, any warrior would wear a scar with pride, but Sarah was not really a warrior. In her heart, she was a sage, the type of person others took their troubles to.
He knew that way back when, she'd only taken up the quarterstaff to impress him. He had been more selfish then, and he had let her. Theatrically, she was good at quarterstaff, with all the twirling she did. But she was not a skilled fighter when it came down to actual battle. She had swung at thin air today, when there was a warrior coming at her.
Why had he let her come along to the battle? He should have insisted she stay here at the inn, if not back at the safe haven with the children and elders.
He peeled the bandage off her arm. Good thing she had that antiseptic ointment. She'd rubbed off the scab and rubbed the ointment into the wound very well and thoroughly. It was a gaping wound, 3 inches long.
He set to work stitching it up neatly. It was an exacting task that took him a while. He had done this before several times for many friends and relatives, so it shouldn't have been affecting him the way it was, but affect him, it did. Before this moment, he hadn’t realized how deeply he still cared for Sarah.
After he finished stitching, Meehall surprised himself by getting sleepy as well. He got on the other bed and fell fast asleep.
***
Meehall was awakened by Eoin’s ecstatic voice. "We won the battle. We won! Dae ye hear me, Meehall? We won! 'Tis a happy day. Wake up, wake up!"
Meehall sat up and rubbed his eyes, then looked quickly over at Sarah. She wasn't even roused by the yelling, so only a few hours had passed and she was still under the power of the tea.
Meehall looked to his brother. "Good. Good, sae where are Nadia and Ellie?"
Eoin’s face didn't fall. No, he merely looked annoyed, not even disappointed, just annoyed. "Half the Camerons managed tae escape us through a portal that closed when we and the Murrays approachit. They took the lasses with them. Howsoever, we dae hae a lead, a captive we found alive on the battlefield. I hae volunteered tae interrogate him." He rushed out and could be heard taking the stairs two at a time.
What? Meehall couldn't let his little brother interrogate someone. He jumped up and rushed downstairs, then outside, where he saw his brother huddled next to a man who was sitting on the ground and tied with his back to a stake. He went to pull Eoin away from the man and talk some sense into his brother.
But Searc, clan chieftain of the Murrays, gestured.
Two men ran over and held Meehall by the arms, keeping him from interfering in the interrogation while Searc asked question after question.
Meehall relaxed in their grip. “Verra well. I dinna want tae fight ye. I wull na interfere. My friend is still up in the inn room under a sleeping tea. Allow me tae gae back and watch ower her."
Searc gestured again, and two women ran toward the inn. "They wull look after Sarah. Ye need tae stay oot here. The more eyes and ears on the captive, the more we wull learn. Ye wish tae ken where the lasses hae been taken, aye?"
Meehall took a deep breath to calm his temper. It wouldn't do for him to get into it with the clan chieftain. Especially not after pulling Eoin out of a fight with Searc not a full day hence. "Verra wull. I will bide, watch, and listen."
It was a gruesome few hours with the captive groaning in pain and pleading for his life but resisting their urges to tell them where the lasses were. At long last, though, they got him to talk.
"Tahra wishes tae alter time as she pleases!”
“She goes tae a sacred grove tae perform a ritual!”
“Nay, the portal takes her elsewhere. She does yet hae tae ride tae the grove.”
“At least one traveling lass will hae tae be sacrificed. Two would be better, and three would be best."
17
Shouting outside woke Sarah up, and she instantly looked around for Meehall. Knowing by instinct he wasn’t here or he would be greeting her, she worried. Had he left after all? She put her arm on her bag and was reassured to feel the bracer through it. She peeked inside just to be sure, and sighed in relief. There it was.
But instead of Meehall, two young Murray women sat on the other bed, talking with each other in hushed tones. So Sarah dare not open her pack and look for the painkillers she wanted for breakfast. Maybe she could send these teens away for a few minutes, in search of food and drink.
"Ye hae me at a loss,” she told them with her friendly face. “Ye ken that I am Sarah, but I dinna ken yer names."
She wasn’t really thinking about these two Murray lasses, though. Fully awake now, she was remembering how Meehall had been so tender and gentle with her. He had to have been furious when she came onto the battlefield despite their agreement —and she had heard a bit of that in his tone as he rode her here to safety— but his anger had been supplanted by tenderness and ... dare she think it? Love.
No, Sarah. Don’t let yourself think that way. You’ll get only disappointment and loneliness.
Meanwhile, she carried on a conversation with the Murray lasses, who obviously were warriors.
The taller of the two stroked back her long bronze hair and spoke first. "’Tis Muireall (MOORyul) I’m called, and this is Eimhir (AEveer)."
Black-haired Eimhir had a mischievous look in her green eyes. "We heard it telt that Meehall rescued ye from the battlefield and carried ye all the way up here tae safety instead o’ going back tae the battle himself."
Muireall chimed in. "I'm thinking ye went ontae the battlefield just tae give him the chance tae rescue ye. Dae I hae the right o’ it?"
A knock on the door saved Sarah from having to answer.
"Sarah?" It was Meehall’s voice.
Muireall got up, pulling her friend after her, and then bent to whisper to Sarah, "We wull be leaving ye tae a bit o’ privacy with yer man, eh?"
Both girls winked at Sarah and rushed out of the room, letting Meehall in.
As soon as their backs were to her, Sarah dove into her bag, found the painkillers, and dry swallowed two.
Meehall just stood there solemnly for a moment.
She knew the news was bad when his eyes finally met hers, and she felt the tears come to her eyes. “Oh no!”
He held up a hand to negate her assumption that her friends were dead, but the stricken look on his face didn’t change. "Nadia and Ellie are tae be sacrificed in a druid ritual. We are leaving nae tae stop it. Ye wull be safe here." He turned to leave without her.
"I'm coming with you Meehall," Sarah exclaimed as she struggled to get out of bed, her arm flaring again with pain and not wishing to cooperate and help her. She willed the painkillers to take effect, but she knew it would take nearly an hour.
Meehall rushed over to the bed, sat, and gently held her down until she relaxed and lay still. "Ye need tae stay here. Rest and heal, Sarah."
Their faces were inches apart, and there was no mistake about it. She saw a deep concern for her in his eyes, along with a desperate yearning.
When she didn't agree to stay, he went on. "Stunned me, it did, that ye would dive intae battle after me. Ye dinna even like tae fight." He continued to gaze deep into her eyes, as if willing her to tell him she dove into the battle because she wanted to have his back. She could almost hear him say it, the wish was so prominent in his features.
Without meaning to, she said what was on her mind. "I want us tae dae everything together from nae on. I dinna want tae be away from ye." The rational part of her brain regretted it as soon as she had said it. But her heart rejoiced that at last, she had made her confession and it was all up to him, now.
His hopeful eyes searched hers with a question in them: was she saying wha
t it sounded like?
She gave him the slightest smile of encouragement and raised her lips a millimeter closer to his.
As if irresistibly drawn by her raised lips, he drifted closer and closer to her. "Aw, Sarah. I wull na ever forget Cairstine, but ye were my first love, and ye wull always be my love."
Their kiss was tender and sweet but filled with the promise of withheld passion that could wait.
Meehall caressed her hair, holding himself back carefully so as not to cause her any pain. And then he sighed deeply and got up again. "We hae much tae speak o’, but ’twill hae tae bide till return with Nadia and Ellie. I must gae nae and ride fast tae save them. It makes sense nae, ye ken, what Deoord returned and telt us aboot the sacred groves na sprouting near the portals."
"Wait," she told him, struggling to get up and forcing herself to work through the pain in her arm.
"Nay," he told her with deep concern in his eyes. "Nay, ye canna come along this time. 'Tis doubly dangerous with yer injury. I wull see that yer friends make it haime, I promise ye. Rest, my love. Rest."
"I canna," she told him earnestly. "I must come along."
"Nay, Sarah. If anything happened tae ye—"
"I saw her, Meehall. I was the ainly one who saw her. I must come along. Ainly I can see her!"
It was clear in his eyes now that he thought her pain and anxiety about her friends was driving her mad. "Saw who? What are ye on aboot? Let the warriors handle—"
She had to ease his fear for her sanity as fast as possible, so she cut him off. "I saw the druid child, Meehall. She was standing on the battlefield in the middle with everyone, chanting a magic spell. ’Twas ainly I could see her. I took her doon, but yer news is the proof she's back up again, and able tae work her evil. I need tae tell ye where she is sae ye can destroy her. I wull stay behind ye, I promise, but I must come along, ye ken?"
Meehall helped Sarah get up and straighten her clothes and put the backpack on, and then he was helping her down the stairs.
They were outside now, and Sarah looked around for their horses amid the flurry of warriors rushing to and fro with supplies, preparing to ride to battle.
Meehall had ahold of her arm and steered her toward a clump of tethered horses, speaking a bit too loudly for her comfort, amid everyone who could hear. "Aye, I dae see. But ye must stay behind me, ye hear? Nay rushing intae the battle this time. Whyever did ye dae it, anyhow?"
And there it was.
"I didna wish tae tell ye this part," she said as low as she could with him still able to hear her over the din, "but the druid child must hae spelled me tae come near her. She must hae beckoned me."
18
Meehall froze just outside the clump of tethered horses in Murray camp with Sarah on his arm. The druid child had spelled her to come near? He would take Sarah back up to the room. No amount of her being able to see the druid child was worth her being drawn into battle again. When the captive Cameron had said three unmarried sacrifices would be best, he had meant Sarah should be one of them!
An ache returned to Meehall's heart, that terrible ache he had felt when he realized he had to leave Sarah all those years ago, a few months before his 18th birthday. He hadn't had time to prepare his heart for the ache, not now, nor then.
***
Meehall and his twin, Gabriel, sat on the floor in Grand-Da Dall's small trailer living room. On the couch facing them were Grand-Da Dall and Grand-Mither Emily (their step grandmother), Vange (their mother), and Peadar (their da). On the floor with them, all sitting criss cross, were their brothers, Eoin and Jeffrey, and their two uncles who lived in this time, Tavish and Tomas.
It was the evening of Tavish and Tomas's 18th birthday. They were the oldest of all the boys, but only a few months older than Meehall and Gabriel.
Meehall had never seen his father look guilty before in his life, and it frightened him. "Da, what ails you?"
Wrinkles Meehall had never noticed deepened around his father's eyes, and Da’s suntanned face sagged for the first time ever in Meehall's memory.
Da spoke hesitantly, as if he were choked up and about to cry. "There is some someaught we need tae tell ye lads," he said in Gaelic, the language they only used outside at the faire for show, not inside their trailer where only family —and girlfriends— ever entered.
Gabriel shared a concerned look with Meehall before turning back toward Da and Mither, who didn't look much better than Da, though she was much prettier. "Aye, Da. Just tell us then. Dinna keep all that misery tae yerself. Share and share alike, ye ken."
Tavish gave Gabriel a brief smile of amusement at Gabriel's jest, as did Jeffrey.
But Da's tiny grin to acknowledge the joke looked more like a resigned grimace. "I will let yer Grand-Da tell ye. I had it in mind tae tell ye sooner, but I thought better o’ it. Ye had wonderful childhoods, this way.”
“Besides,” interjected Mither, “we like Sarah, Ashley, Lauren, Jaelle, Amber, and Kelsey. If we had told ye sooner…” Her voice trailed off, but her meaning was clear. Meehall and his brothers and uncles might not have taken on girlfriends, if they had been told this big family secret sooner.
Now deeply perplexed, Meehall looked over at his uncle Tomas to see if the oldest of them all —older than Tavish by two minutes and turning 18 tomorrow— knew what was going on.
But Tomas shrugged, looking just as clueless as the rest of them.
Grand-Da Dall sighed deeply, then looked around and made eye contact with each person present, one by one, sharing his love and concern and pride in them all. "Ye wull hae many questions on what I'm aboot tae say, and I wull answer them. But right at this moment, I wull just tell ye what ye need tae ken sae ye can make a decision for yerself and what ye wull dae. Tavish and Tomas, tomorrow ye become men in the eyes o’ modern society, on this yer 18th birthday. Would that I could just tell the two o’ ye the secret and save the news tae tell yer nephews later. But I ken ye. I ken the love ye all hae for each other, and I ken ye would tell them, perhaps in nay sae gentle a way as I'm aboot tae tell them."
Dall looked over at Meehall and his brothers, who were all seated near their Da, Peadar, Dall's oldest son. "I wished to spare you until your own 18th birthdays. I hope that ye will na resent the time that ye wull miss, na kenning. Verra well."
As they all sat on the couch facing the boys, Grand-Da Dall put one arm around Grand-Mither Emily and the other arm around his son Peadar. "The time for hesitating is ower. I hae dreaded this day for 18 years, but here ’tis. We MacGregors hae a curse upon oor family. ’Tis a curse o’ the druids’ making. Aye, the verra same druids we run the faire for. Ye ken them. Ye hae talked with them yer entire lives. Here's what ye did na ken, what we kept from ye."
Grand-Da stretched his neck this way and that in a nervous way Meehall had never seen in him. "We run the fair for the druids because we hae tae. We canna say nay. Och, we hae negotiated with them and received concessions. We keep upon oor person the mode o’ travel nae, and we travel when ‘’tis convenient tae oor modern lives nae. Oor ancestors did na hae it sae good.”
He turned to Grand-Mither and smiled at her. “Betimes Emily had phone app tae travel in space as well as in time.” He turned back to his sons and grandsons. “But those days are ower. She was testing that for the druids, we nae ken. Howsoever, things are better nae for the MacGregors than they hae been in any generation syne the curse. I want ye tae understand that, tae ken we did fight for ye. We could na lift the curse altogether, but we did fight for ye. We got ye the concession, o’ choosing when ye time travel and carrying the means on yer person. Ye can time travel as an escape. You can use it for adventure. 'Tis na all bad. Please dinna despair."
Grand-Da then turned a weak smile on Meehall and his brothers, trying to put a good face on something that was obviously terrible.
Eoin was impatient even then, and he interrupted. "Why dae ye hae tae run the faire for the Druids? Why canna ye say nay?"
Meehall was glad his brother had cut to t
he chase. As the youngest among them, he was ofttimes indulged.
With everyone looking to him for an answer, Grand-Da shared a look with his wife, who nodded and smiled and caressed his face, then turned him to his sons and his grandsons.
Grand-Da looked away. "One o’ oor MacGregor ancestors settled a gambling debt by promising his descendants would serve the druids. Every fourth-born son is a sworn slave once he reaches five and twenty years o’ age. Tavish and Eoin, both o’ ye are sworn slaves tae the Druids. But all o’ ye are affected, because each o’ yer fourth-born sons is also a slave."
Da, Mither, Grand-Da, and Grand-Mither all got up off the couch and walked toward the door, slowly, but with determination.
Just before they left, Grand-Da said, "We leave sae ye can talk. If ye wish advice from us, dae come oot and ask it. We are giving ye the honor o’ privacy." And with that, all the current adults left the trailer, closing the door with a quiet click that was audible only because everyone was absolutely stunned into silence.
That ache. That ache that Meehall felt in his belly that day when he realized that any woman he married would be under the curse as well. Her fourth-born son and all her fourth-born grandsons would serve the druids.
Then, as now, Meehall realized how deep was the love he had for Sarah. He had made the decision then to live his druid-cursed life without her, so that she would be spared. And he was making the decision now to go deal with this druid child without her. She would live, even if he should die. She had the bracer. If he didn't come back, she could use it to go home.
***
Heart pounding, Meehall swung Sarah around from facing Snow and Smoke and marched her back toward the inn. Toward safety.
She turned and gave him an incredulous stare. “Meehall! I already telt ye. I hae tae gae with ye! Ainly I can see the druid child!”
Exasperated, he squeezed her to him, determined that she know love was his motivation now, just as it had been back then. “We wull find this Tahra another way, Sarah, withoot ye in danger. I canna lose ye!”
