by Leela Ash
Unable to hold back he parted her legs and she wrapped him inside her thighs, lifting her buttocks slightly so he could slide his cock straight inside her. It wasn't difficult; she could feel her own wetness and ached for him to be inside her. With one deep thrust he entered her, his cock squeezing against her soft walls and causing her to shudder with both pleasure and pain. Alex lay unmoving for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being buried in her sweet cunt. There was no feeling like it and he wanted the moment to last. He looked down at her as she lay, eyes closed, against the pillow. She had not aged in 10 years, her face was still as beautiful as the day he had first beheld her, if not more so. He stroked her brow and whispered her name and the blue eyes opened and looked into his.
"I love you so much my darling, if anything should happen to me in battle, I ...."
His voice trailed off and caught in his throat. Andrea brought a finger to his mouth to silence him. She trusted in their fate, all would be well.
Grasping her head in both hands he kissed her passionately as the tears stated to fall. He needed release and pulling himself slightly away from her he thrust once again with an urgent force.
"Oh god, Andrea." his words were lost as he thrust furiously inside her, his face a mixture of pleasure and pain as he finally came, releasing his passion into her with a final thrust. His body flopped against hers, spent and weary and she sent out a small prayer for him to come home safely as he slept in her arms.
She slept well and stirred as the morning light crept through the window coverings. Once again she was alone, Alex had set off early without saying goodbye and there was a gap in her heart; she felt empty without him.
***
In the weeks that followed they heard very little. Stories of battles won and battles lost made their way down from the hills but no-one really knew the truth. The words had passed many lips on the journey and the truth lost along the way. Andrea kept a brave face during the day time, if only for Elizabeth who missed her father, but the nights were long and weary and she often woke with red eyes.
One night during the seventh week of his absence Andrea woke in a cold sweat. She had been dreaming and had seen Alex cut down in battle, had heard his haunting cry as he fell to the ground. She woke with a start. The room had grown cold; only the embers of the fire remained in the grate and large shadows loomed across the stone walls of her room. There was a tapping at the window pane and she climbed out of bed to look out into the night. The wind had gotten up and the branches of the nearby trees were waving in distress, catching the window with the tap, tap, tapping of their branches.
Her heart beat loudly in her chest; something was wrong, she could feel it. At the sound of footsteps she jumped back into bed as the door opened and a figure entered holding a burning candle. It was Geraldine.
Her face was white and her usual soft and serene eyes looked troubled.
"Andrea, are you awake?" It was the first words that the nun had spoken to her in 10 years.
Sitting up she reached out her hand for the nun.
"What is it Geraldine?"
The candlelight flickered in her face as Geraldine bent towards her. She looked serious, something was wrong.
"It's Alex; I fear he has been injured in battle."
Andrea's heart skipped a beat. She had known it, felt the blow herself.
"But that is not all; I fear that now Helena will return, we must prepare ourselves."
The name wrought fear into her heart. She had not seriously thought of Helena for the past 10 years, it had been difficult at first – yes - but as the years had passed by the name of Helena had never been uttered and only occasionally thought of as the fly in an otherwise happy ointment.
"What can we do?" Andrea was ready to defend herself and her daughter and would fight to the death if need be.
The wise, young nun spoke slowly and clearly."We will do what we have been doing for the last 10 years, we will wait".
Waking the sleeping young Elizabeth, Andrea led her into the relative safety of her own room. Before long there were shouts from the landing stage over by the water and the night was lit by many flares.
A boat was coming over the water from the mainland, and wrapping themselves up as warmly and as anonymously as they could, the three figures set off into the cold night air to see what the commotion was all about. Andrea could feel a lingering dread in her heart and kept Elizabeth close by her side; but if her fate was approaching then it was better to meet it face to face than to skulk in the shadows.
***
The small boat had almost reached the shore when the three arrived. In the darkness Andrea could make out the shape of one cloaked figure standing at the helm whilst the boatman rowed into the little jetty. Once they had safely landed the cloaked figure bent forward and with the help of the oarsman, lifted a bundle out of the bottom of the boat. The two figures struggled to lift their cargo onto dry land, a weighty load spread under a dark covering. Crowds had gathered to wonder at the commotion and they parted as the macabre procession made its way from the boat and up the path. Andrea and Geraldine stood towards the back of the crowd, straining above the heads and torches to see what was happening. There were soon whisperings and murmurings throughout the crowd; the body of Alexhander MacDonald was being carried home to its final resting place.
Andrea felt her heart harden and she stumbled towards the young nun; feeling the knees beneath her start to buckle. Elizabeth, still half asleep, did not know what was happening and Andrea had to remain calm for her daughter’s sake. The strong hand of Geraldine wrapped itself around hers as the three made their way along the back roads. They would reach home before the rest as the crowd walked solemnly, as the heavy weight was carried down the winding track towards the house.
By the time the crowds had gathered around the house, Andrea had removed her cloak and was stood in the open doorway. All fell silent as two figures wrapped in dark hooded shawls approached with their burden and Andrea moved aside as they carried Alex into the main hall.
“Please, in here”, Andrea opened the door, indicating a small yet comfortable room where the body was brought and laid out across the couch. Biting her lip to keep the emotions at bay she thanked the two bearers and bid them good evening. They both turned to go but at the last moment one of the figures held back and closed the door.
For a moment Andrea thought the figure was waiting, wanting payment for bringing her husband back home and she started towards the chest where the coins were kept.
“Wait.” A familiar voice rang out across the room, stopping Andrea in her tracks.
Turning towards the door she found herself face to face with Helena.
The green eyes glinted in the candlelight as she stepped forward, out of the shadows.
“Well Andrea, it’s been a while. So sorry you had to leave New York so suddenly. It wasn’t kind, leaving poor Steve all alone like that. Of course he found comfort in my bed, but really, he was distraught. He really thought the child was his.”
Seeing Helen brought all the old memories flooding back. She hadn’t thought about Steve in a long while but she couldn’t feel that sorry for him. He would have soon moved on in her absence.
“What do you want here Helena?”
“Why, to bring my dear brother back to you of course. I have a little proposal for you.”
Andrea folded her arms and waited for Helena to speak.
“It’s quite simple really. You give me the rune in your possession and I will restore the life of my brother.”
“That’s impossible!” Andrea could feel the tears forming at the back of her eyes. All she wanted to do was to embrace the body of her beloved Alex, but she must be strong, for all their sakes.
“Do you really think so? Well, unless you hand over the rune you will never know.”
“You would not see your brother dead if you have the power to bring him to life.”
“I have not seen my dear brother for over 10 years. He banished me
from his sight and threatened to kill me should I ever set foot on this island again. Do you really think I care if my brother lives or dies?”
“Let me see his face.”
Stepping to the couch, Helena pulled down the cover shrouding the body. Alex looked peaceful, his fine features at rest.
“You see how peaceful he sleeps, the eternal rest. Perhaps you are right, we should let him lie. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” Helena stepped back towards the door.
“Wait, I will fetch you the stone.”
Andrea stepped out of the room and ran upstairs into her chamber to retrieve the stone from its hiding place. It had been many years since she had seen it, held it in her hand.
She had come so far only for it to end like this. To hand over the stone that generations before her had guarded through the centuries; kept safe. Now, she was the one to fail. Geraldine had been wrong. Walking slowly back down the staircase she paused at the doorway. Once she had handed the stone over to Helena she would be at her mercy; both she and Elizabeth would be vulnerable. With Alex dead there was no hope, if he lived they might have a chance.
Helena smiled a triumphant smile as Andrea entered the room. She gloated at her victory and she was not ashamed to show it.
"You are a sensible woman Andra, I will give you that. You have made the right choice, now hand over the stone".
The two women stood in silence for a long while. Andrea could feel the rune against the palm of her hand, the stone warm against her skin. Her resolve was waning and her fist tightened as she met Helena's steady gaze.
"Well?" Extending her arm Helena opened her palm upwards to receive the stone.
"Wait!"
The door opened quickly and Geraldine entered the room.
"Stop Andrea, don't hand over the rune, none of this is real."
Both women turned to look at the young nun, the spell of the moment broken.
"Alex is not dead; he is seriously injured but not dead. Helena has given him a draught of her own making to give the appearance of death, but he is not there yet." and walking over to the couch she placed her hands upon his head.
Andrea turned to look at her beloved. She had not thought of it before but his face, although pale, did not wear the grey pallor of the dead.
As Andrea watched the young nun she thought she saw Alex start to stir and watched fixated as his lips began to move and his eyes open.
Helena took her chance and seizing a knife from within her bodice lunged at Andrea, desperate to possess the rune.
Geraldine moved quickly and the young nun threw herself between Andrea and the knife in Helena's hand.
For a moment all was still, until Helena withdrew her hand, the knife it contained now dripping red with blood. Geraldine turned and smiled at Andrea before falling forward into her arms, pulling both women to the ground. Her slight body twitched as the life slowly ebbed from the gentle soul. Finally she was still.
Stunned and unable to move, Andrea watched in horror as Helena started to approach her, the knife held high and pointed towards her.
The small rune was still clutched tightly in Andrea’s hand and all she could think about was her daughter sleeping peacefully upstairs in her room.
There was no hope left, nothing to save her and closing her eyes Andrea awaited her fate.
***
A strangled cry forced her to look up. Alex had heaved himself from the couch and had launched himself at his sister and now held her firmly by the neck. Andrea watched as his grasp tightened around the slim white throat and Helena's eyes bulged and arms flailed as the life was choked out of her. As her body slipped to the floor, Alex slumped back onto the couch, his face grey with exertion and pain.
Gently Andrea pushed against the lifeless body of Geraldine that was pressed against her. The little nun looked peaceful, almost happy in her death. She had given her life to save them, the ultimate sacrifice. Kissing the smooth brow she let her tears fall onto the gentle face and thought of the kind old lady in her own time. The circle of life, birth and rebirth, nothing ends; Geraldine had taught her that.
Stepping to the couch she looked down at Alex, her love. His face was still and his lips tinged with a faint blue coloring. His breathing was labored and a dark stain had started to form on his shirt; the opening of one of his wounds. Her tears flowed thickly as she took his cold and limp hand in hers.
"My love, my love, stay with me."
Stroking the hair from his forehead she kissed the soft skin. It couldn't end this way, everything had been turned upside down.
His eyes flickered and opened and his mouth moved as he struggled to speak.
"Andra." a small smile played on his lips.
"Don't speak my love, save your strength. I will fetch the doctor, all will be well."
Alex closed his eyes and slowly shook his head as his hand clutched at hers.
"You must leave with the girl, you cannot stay here alone. War is coming and you will not be safe. You and Elizabeth must go back to your own time."
Sobbing into his chest Andrea struggled to compose herself.
"I cannot leave you Alex, not to die here alone."
"You must. Soldiers will soon be at my heels. They will take my property, this house and all that is in it, including you and Elizabeth."
"Then we will take you with us."
Alex shook his head sadly, "There are only 2 runes. Enough for you and Elizabeth, but not for me."
"But how can we return to the future, we can only be transported at the point of death?"
Alex lay silently back on the couch, the life force draining from his body as he fought against unconsciousness.
He spoke again, a mere whisper.
"You must take the second rune from my sister. She will have it concealed about her person. You will also find a small bottle, a poison that would have seen her take the both of us into your time. You and Elizabeth must take this. If you love me you will do this one last thing for me. I understand the powers of the ancients now. Only in death will you live. Promise me?"
Nodding her head the tears fell quickly and she pushed her lips gently against his.
They were his last words.
***
There was no time to lose. If she thought too long about the task ahead then she wouldn't go through with it. Her mind whirled as the two worlds of past and present collided in her head. She had seen the power of the runes, had witnessed it, lived in different centuries, but did she have enough faith in the power of the ancients for the task ahead?
She quickly found the second rune, hidden in a concealed pocket in Helena’s bodice, and a small glass vial of a dark looking liquid which she assumed to be the poison.
There was no looking back as Andrea stepped out of the room, leaving the three bodies behind her. There was nothing else she could do for the dead; she had her own life and Elizabeth's to think of now.
The room was dark as she entered, and only the gentle sound of her child softly breathing filled the room.
Crossing to the bed she sat gingerly on the edge to avoid waking the sleeping girl; she looked like a beautiful angel with the soft blonde curls framing her sanguine face.
Andrea's hand trembled as she carefully untucked the small, clenched fist from beneath the coverlet. The child stirred for a moment but was soon quiet. Taking one of the stones Andrea placed it carefully in the centre of the girl’s palm, folding the small fingers back over to keep it in place.
With the other stone carefully in her own hand she brought out the small bottle. She had no idea of the dosage but presumed one or two drops would do the trick. To be on the safe side she would use half the bottle on herself and half on the girl.
Pulling out the stopper she paused. What if Elizabeth was transported to the future on her own, or worse still, was left all alone in this dark era?
Andrea had no choice, she would have to trust to the power of the ancients and to her own fate. Kissing her daughter gently on the cheek she pour
ed 10 drops of the dark liquid onto her lips. The poison stained the red lips to a garish black and a little of the liquid dripped from her chin and onto the cover beneath. Helen would have been thorough in her research. The liquid would be deadly.
Taking Elizabeth into her arms she lay down beside the warm body of her daughter before pouring the rest of the vial into her own mouth.
Soon there was nothing but blackness.
8.
The air was damp upon her skin as Andrea awoke in the small graveyard of the chapel of St Oran. Her body and head ached and she had a bitter taste in her mouth. For a moment she lay on the hard ground unable to focus on her thoughts. She had been on a long journey and could feel the tiredness behind her eyes.
Running her hand across the wet grass she reached out, something was missing, something was not right.
