Under the Same Sky

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Under the Same Sky Page 22

by Knightley, Diana


  We came to the low house, white walled, beautifully bright in the sun. It had a bright blue door, my favorite color.

  He said, “You will like Sophia: ye canna understand a word but she sounds like a bird and is quite funny as she does it.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Sophia bustled to the front door a very incredibly short older woman. A second later she had her rough-worked hands cradling my face, speaking very fast, then she held up my arms and made me spin. She spoke faster still and Magnus laughed and answered a word here and there because apparently she called me his big giant wife or something that I needed to take as a compliment.

  Christo wasn’t home yet so I walked with Magnus to the shore and there I met Christo and three of his sons. Magnus introduced me but then there were a few things said that only Magnus could understand and Magnus couldn’t understand most of it.

  Magnus slung two baskets of fish over his shoulders to carry up the hill to Christo’s house and we realized there was going to be a very large family party that night.

  Sixty-four - Kaitlyn

  Sophia found a linen shirt for me and so I added it under the criss-crossed brocade cloth. Apparently the rest of what I was wearing was good enough for her family.

  Their daughters arrived and we stood at long tables and they mimed instructions for me and we cleaned fish and chopped vegetables and prepared dishes. I didn’t know what I was doing for most of it but carried on anyway and while I worked I ate so many delicious cherry tomatoes listening to the cadence and odd sounds of their conversation and delighting in their banter. It sounded like the banter of women in any time or place. The oldest sister reminded me of Lizbeth without even one word of understanding between us.

  As the cooking neared completion, the men showed up, and kids of all ages were in the gardens. Tables were constructed stretching across the yard at the front of the house and we decorated them with small vases full of flowers. There were ceramic plates and pitchers of wine and we soon had a big spread of a meal down the length of a table and the entire family, men and women, some of the older children, sitting along the length of it. Magnus sat midway and I sat beside him. My face tired from smiling, but it was also joyous — Magnus’s deep laugh, the way he had assimilated himself here even though he had nothing in common but a deep generous spirit. I was so fucking proud of him.

  We held hands and I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed his fingers and the women of the family rejoiced and clapped their hands and beamed at us. It was quite lovely to be in the midst of it all — outside, under a darkening sky, at the top of a crest of an island, the starry heavens unbroken by anything but the lowest trees and vines of the gardens. The wide deepness above it, sea to sea, us out in the middle of it, under the same sky together.

  Christo was quite drunk, as were we all, truth be told, and he stood and held up a glass of wine and made a long rambling speech about Magnus from the looks of it, about me a little too, and then the whole family raised their mugs and said something that sounded like “Yiamas!”

  And Magnus and I said, “Slainte!” our family’s version of it.

  This family.

  Our family.

  All families the same, with laughs and loves and joys and little children causing havoc, but even here there were parents that reminded me of Emma and a sister that reminded me of Lizbeth, and both were fun to watch. I imagined which one I would rather share a glass of wine with, which one I would rather attend a mommy-and-me playgroup with.

  Before I knew it, most of the family went home leaving me and two of the sisters behind to clean up the food. And then very late, like one-in-the-morning late, Magnus and I went out to pee in the pit toilet. It had a small wooden bench inside a little hut. I went first and then heard him say from outside, “Och, I canna listen tae it without havin’ tae...” The stream of his urine sounded outside.

  He moaned and I giggled. I teased, “Well you were close, another five seconds and you would have relieved yourself like a civilized man.”

  We returned tae the house and he got comfortable on his back on a mattress that was no more than a bag of cloth, too short for our bodies, stuffed very lightly with hay, the ground right under it. There were a few rolled cloths for pillows. To call it an overly firm, bumpy, uncomfortable, scratchy, irritating mattress was an understatement. I was grateful for my fluffy sweatpants to save my hip bones.

  Magnus said, “See that?” He pointed through the square window, a hole in the wall really, up at the sky.

  I said, mimicking his voice, “Tis always the same sky.”

  He looked down at me his brow lifted. “Tis good that we are truly under it taegether.” He shifted the pillow under his head and I nestled in further on his arm.

  “I guess it would be too much to get busy right here?”

  “Tae get busy, ye mean tae have me here on the reed mattress in the back room of Christo’s house?” He grinned. “Ye canna be quiet enough.”

  “I can’t? I’ll have you know—”

  Just then a very loud snore came from the room next to ours. “Oh,” I said simply. “Yeah, that’s really close. I can’t be that quiet.” I whispered, “He is asleep though, that’s—”

  Magnus’s chest jiggled as he suppressed his laughs. He whispered very quietly. “Tis nae he, tis she, he haena fallen asleep yet. His snores will join her’s eventually and then twill be a cacophony about our heads.”

  I giggled along with him. “I guess I’ll have to just go to sleep then, huh?”

  “Aye, if we can sleep through it we ought. We will go home on the morrow. Twill be time enough tae be with ye then.”

  Sixty-five - Kaitlyn

  The next morning we had a light breakfast and said our goodbyes to Christo and Sophia. We set out along the path through the gardens and I thought we were looking for a wide open spot but Magnus said, no, he had someplace he wanted to take me, a place Christo’s son, Marcos, had drawn a map for. “He told me tae take ye here today,” he explained. So we kept walking in the beautiful day, full of a high sky and the scents of the Mediterranean: sea salt and fish wafting on a breeze but also a warm smell that I—

  I breathed it in. “What is it, Magnus? That wonderful smell?”

  “Tis fig and olive and—” He breathed deep. “I will miss it when we go, tis the smell of this island. I like it verra — it keeps me hungry. Dost ye smell the lemon? And the basil? All of it on the breeze.”

  “I really love this place.”

  “Aye, me too.”

  We walked for hours, talking and resting occasionally, to walk some more. After some thinking I asked, “What are we going to do with it all?”

  “With what?”

  “All the gold and jewelry and the art that Lady Mairead is collecting and the antiques. It’s theft and it freaks me out that we’re the recipients. Heck, I just stole from Reyes’s house.”

  Magnus grunted. “He was a thief and a murderer, we have taken what daena belong tae him.”

  “It doesn’t really belong to us though either.”

  We walked quietly for a few moments, then Magnus said, “I ken it, Kaitlyn, but what would ye have me do?”

  “I don’t know. I think we should start giving it back.”

  “But if we daena ken who it belongs tae?”

  My forehead was growing sweaty from the walk, I brushed my hair away. “Maybe a charity or something? I don’t know.” I thought for a second. “It’s very complicated, having all this wealth from the centuries, but in our bags are a lot of Greek coins, we should have left them with Christo or—”

  “I left a great deal of wealth for Christo and his sons and daughters.”

  “Good, that makes me happy.” I grinned. “So what you’re saying is you agree, and we’ll think about how to disperse our wealth better?”

  “Aye, I agree with ye on it. As long as my family is taken care of the rest of it does nae matter tae me.”

  “Perfect. We’ll start a charity or something. As soon as we get
home.” I paused for a beat. “Speaking of getting home, will what we’re walking toward be worth it?”

  He chuckled. “I daena ken, but we have been doin’ it for a long time a’ready, I believe we ought tae keep goin’.

  We passed a small village and bought some crusty bread, a bit of goat cheese, and a bottle of the island’s wine from a woman who had baskets out in front of her house. She also had bowls of cherry tomatoes, sun dried tomatoes, and a few dozen oranges.

  Magnus asked, “Do these have the vitamin C in them, Kaitlyn?”

  “Yes, do you — are you worried about scurvy?”

  “Aye, I dinna like how Fraoch was dyin’. I daena want…”

  I gestured to the woman that I wanted to buy the oranges. I also bought some cherry tomatoes and a pouch of sun-dried tomatoes. I held out a handful of greek coins and she took them and bundled our food in a cloth leaving a few out for us to eat with our lunch.

  We sat in the grass further down the path and ate and had our bit of wine. Magnus ate all of his orange with a contented sigh.

  I pointed out. “You know, I hate to be the kind of person who says I told you so, but I told you to take your vitamins.”

  With orange juice dripping down his chin he grinned. “I have learned that Kaitlyn Campbell was in the right on this.”

  “Good, I’m glad you see my point.”

  He added, “You are always wantin’ me tae agree with ye and now it has been twice in a day. You are goin’ tae have tae agree with me on somethin’ so I daena feel so insignificant.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I daena ken, let me think.” He ate the rest of his orange and said, “I ken it. I daena like the rose-scented soap ye use on me.”

  “The what — the rose…? Like the shampoo? And the conditioner and the soap and the — I thought you loved it!”

  He grinned wide. “Tis nae my favorite and I daena like tae wear it.”

  My eyes went wide. “But you love it on me, right? It makes me smell like a rose garden!”

  He scowled and shook his head.

  “Magnus! All this time and you don’t like rose-scented things?”

  He laughed. “You are arguin’ with me about it, ye are supposed tae be more agreeable than this. Tis your turn tae be.”

  “I’m just shocked. I don’t know what — what do you like then, if not beautiful flowers?”

  His eyes were lit mischievously. “I like the scent ye have in your undergarment drawer.”

  My eyes went even wider. “What is…?” I thought for a moment then remembered the sachet I had in there. It had hints of vanilla and a bit of clementine orange and blackberry — “Magnus do you like me best when I smell like food?”

  “Aye.” He breathed in deeply. “I like ye verra much when ye smell like somethin’ tae eat.”

  I laughed so hard I fell back on the dirt and then when I was done laughing and was warm from the good humor of it all, I rolled on my side and sighed. “So you want me to smell like food instead of flowers?”

  “Aye, tis my favorite. When ye smell like spices I want tae bed ye and I think ye should agree with me on it.”

  I giggled. “Okay, yes, if you put it that way, I agree, one hundred percent.”

  He grinned. “You should also agree that I am the verra best husband because I am so agreeable with ye on everythin’.”

  “That’s the reason you’re the very best husband? Okay, I agree, though I thought it was because you were so capable with your sword.”

  It was his turn to laugh heartily and then still chuckling we helped each other to standing and continued walking with a little bit of a buzz now, which was nice.

  After a while our walk crested on an even higher hill. There was a small foot path that went down the cliff.

  Magnus said, “There!” and pointed at a large volcanic rock with a hole through it and—

  “It’s shaped like a heart!”

  “Aye, tis why we have been walkin’ tae see it. Tis the most romantic and secluded spot in all the world.”

  “Wow.” I dropped my bags, and sat down, completely speechless.

  Magnus placed his bags beside mine and sat down too.

  “Where did it come from? Did someone make it? It frames the island there, and that’s got to be a volcano and…”

  “I daena ken, Marcos told me twas the heart. He said I had tae go with ye, but twas all I understood of him.”

  “Wow,” I said again for the lack of anything better to say. “It is sooooo beautiful.” I looked all around: the land, the sea, the sky, a church beyond. “It’s all so beautiful.”

  Magnus said, “Aye, tis.”

  I tucked my head to his shoulder and we sat in silence for a time looking through that heart to the sky and sea and volcano beyond. And then Magnus tilted my chin up and kissed me and then the kiss lingered, lips and breaths and nibbles and then we lay back in the volcanic dirt and ash of this ancient island, an island from before history. The kind of island that Trojans visited and multitudes of gods ruled over. It was so old but also timeless — because when were we here? The 19th century? It seemed like it could be the 14th or the 20th. Anytime, always the same.

  Magnus’s hand ran up my thigh and brought it around close to his, and his kisses were deep and mine were wanting. I pulled him closer and pulled his kilt higher. And we were fumbling intently on the wrapped fabric of my skirt rumpled between us until we had it cleared and we were finally pressed together.

  Magnus chuckled, “I dinna think we could do it.”

  I joked, “I was wondering for a moment there too.”

  We slowed and looked into each other’s eyes. I sighed a deep breath of Mediterranean air and my husband, exotic and familiar, both. His hand dipped and played between my legs, my view a deep blue sky, high above us, tufts of clouds blowing by, framing Magnus: his darkness, his brow sweaty with desire, the curl of his hair resting on the taut muscles of his neck. I pressed my lips to the spot where the thrum of his heart beat loudest and felt its steady rhythm.

  I breathed in the scent of him, spice and heat mingled with the fragrances of this island, the fig and salt and olive. I held on around his head as he slid inside me and we adjusted our fabrics so we were not too exposed out on this open place in the fresh air — his face pressed to mine and his breath close to my ear, and mine, so close to his.

  A bit of breeze picked up some dust and flung it past us into the sky and I didn’t realize I spoke — I love you so much, Magnus, my husband.

  I love ye too, Kaitlyn, my wife.

  Making love to him here was slow and beautiful and necessary and I tried to be still and I tried for as much decorum as I could considering I was being taken to the edge: his fingers, his mouth, his kisses — and then ogodogodogodogod… I was flung — past caring about anything but him, want, more, Magnus, oh my god. I had been concentrating on the skin where his throat met his chest but now I held his hands above my head and watched the vibrant blue sky beyond and lost myself completely in the way he felt on me, in me, here, now. Always.

  He raised up over me with my legs around his back and slammed against me, all skin slaps and wet sliding and intensity, until he was finished and collapsed down with an, “Och.”

  I wrapped around him tighter. “Was that good, Highlander?”

  “Aye,” he answered. “Twas good, mo reul-iuil?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He teased, “I could tell, ye were speakin’ tae god about me.”

  I giggled. “I want to make sure she knows how much you mean to me.”

  He laughed. “Last I heard of it God was a man.”

  “Don’t let Athena hear you say that, this is one of her islands.”

  We kissed deep and slow and then he slid from me and rolled to his side and put his kilt to rights as I adjusted my skirts.

  His brow lifted and he smiled. “We made a baby just then, I think.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, my love, I doubt the sperm have
even had time to introduce themselves to my egg yet.”

  He chuckled. “Tis an egg? Like of a hen?”

  “Kind of, like the inside, without a shell.”

  “Och, tis much that is a mystery.” He shook his head. “But I daena need tae introduce m’self. I just vanquished m’enemy, rescued the maiden, and am takin’ home the spoils of war. Your egg kens twas me.”

  “Oh it does, does it?”

  “Aye, your egg said, ‘Master Magnus, welcome home and…’ How dost it work?”

  “One of your sperms joins with my egg and… if a lot goes right, a baby happens.”

  “Your egg said, ‘Welcome home, Master Magnus, and opened her legs for me. She is a verra good egg.”

  I giggled.

  He kissed me on the edge of my throat and then leaned up on his elbow and watched the volcano. While I watched him — so fucking hot. That jawline, the small crinkles near his eyes, his intense expression that could break into a smile in a second. He was strength and power and love and fun all in one, and I sighed again thinking about how he was everything to me.

  “I can’t wait to go home with you.”

  He nodded, but there was a sadness to it.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I am just thinking of Fraoch, in the hospital. He may never get tae see a day like—”

  “Oh.” I watched his face searching for what it held inside. “What if we went?”

  He looked down at me. “You want tae go home though and—”

  “I do, I want to finish our Christmas and sleep in our bed and celebrate that Reyes won’t be bothering us anymore and worry about Archie while also planning how to find him and maybe have a bath for once, a long bath, with that bath bomb that Hayley gave me and — all of that I want. But you, my husband, are worried about your friend, are you not?”

  “Aye, he was verra close tae death.”

 

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