by Jane Stain
"Why dae ye linger here?" The Cameron woman took Nadia by the elbow and tugged her down the hall to the next room, a larger one, where half a dozen young women were washing vats and vats of laundry. Come to think, it looked like spring outside, and sure enough, they were washing all the bedding that had been soiled all winter. Mounds and mounds and mounds of linen sheets, as well as the clothing of the few hundred people who lived here.
This was the perfect cover for Nadia while she bided her time and waited for Ciaran's inevitable rescue, so she smiled at everyone and said in what she hoped was the right tone, "Verra wull, how can I help?"
When Nadia spoke in this time, she opened her mouth to speak in her American English, but Gaelic of the period came out. The last time she’d been here in 1706, this had shocked her. It didn’t this time.
The pregnant wife threw up her hands and shook her head as she left the room. "I canna keep up with the humor o’ ye young lasses. Get tae it. I dinna care what ye say or if ye sing, just get the linens washed."
Nadia waited until the wife was truly gone, and then made a show of relaxing. "I thought she would na ever leave."
The other women smiled the slightest, biting their lips not to smile too much. One of them corrected her. "That is Eimhir (AEveer), Sir John's wife. His father is still the Cameron, only he lets Sir John have most o’ the authority nae, seeing how he's been knighted and all."
Nadia didn't quite know what to do with the reverence she heard in their voices for this Sir John. Did that mean they weren't captives, but members of the Cameron clan themselves? She didn't think it was wise to pursue that line of questioning. She had the MacDrest name she could use if they asked her clan. That had been the name Eoin used back in the time of the druids, during the second century. He'd been Drest, and he’d been back to see that his son had had sons. So they could be a clan. That was her cover clan, but she'd rather not have to use it.
Still, the woman who had spoken seemed friendly, so Nadia moved in next to her and started lifting the linens along with her, to dip them in the vat of who-knew-what over and over, then wring them out, and then put them in the pile of clean wet laundry, mere feet away from the pile of dirty laundry.
After learning her new friend’s name was Mairee, Nadia said to her, "She said we could sing. Shall I start?"
Mairee and the others shrugged noncommittally.
Taking this as an invitation, Nadia started her favorite complex round. If they didn't know it, they would catch on easily enough. She knew the tune was at least as old as this time.
Rose, Rose, Rose Red
Will I ever see thee wed?
I will marry at thy will, sire,
At thy will.
It worked. After three repetitions, the others joined in, and after ten repetitions, they were singing it in rounds. Nadia introduced some complexity by adding a different verse to the round.
Aw, poor bird
You are sad,
But when you sang in yonder wood
Your song was glad.
Aw, poor bird
Fly away,
And in the treetops you will sing
your song so gay.
Thrilled to have gotten everyone singing both those songs in rounds together, Nadia joyfully added the third song into the mix, using the rhythm to dunk the wash as it plainly had been designed for.
Hey, ho, nobody home.
Meat nor drink nor money have I none.
Still, I will be merry, merry!
Hey, ho, nobody home…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgirEF4yd1I
(YouTube: Ah Poor Bird/Hey Ho Nobody at Home/Rose Rose)
Mairee tapped Nadia on the wrist. "Wull ye help me hang this, then?"
Nadia smiled at her new friend. "Aye, I wull."
Fascinated, Nadia watched while Mairee bundled all the sheets into a huge ball the two of them carried, balancing it on their chests between them as they edged down the hall sideways. They were rounding the corner into the hanging room, as Mairee called it, when Nadia heard Tahra’s voice out in the hall.
"Weeks o’ melting and forming, all ruined in a MOMENT! Whate’er shall I dae with ye?"
Paralyzed in fear, Nadia trembled in the hanging room, grateful for the laundry that blocked her face from view.
Mairee wasn’t doing any better.
In response to Tahra’s tirade, there was only a grunt, along with the sound of a man being whipped. Half a dozen warriors passed by the open door before Nadia was able to tear herself out of her paralyzed stupor and duck down, on the pretense of putting their load of laundry on the floor —when really she was hiding her face so that Tahra wouldn't recognize her.
The druid child Tahra —from whom Ciaran and the Murrays had rescued Nadia and Ellie— walked right in front of the door clutching a leather-bound book, screaming, “Nae I hae tae start all ower, ye sorry excuse for a man!"
Nadia didn’t see the man, but the whipping sounds continued. The party had passed by the door and were getting farther away, so Nadia started to relax and breathe easier, comforted in the fact that she hadn't been recognized, at least not for the moment.
But then there was a bloodcurdling scream from the man, followed by gasps from all the other warriors in the hallway.
One of them yelled out, "Ye hae kilt him."
"Nay matter," said Tahra coldly. "Ye, Barrfhionn, ye are nae my leas-cheannard. Dinna make the same mistake the first one did."
The danger had passed. The voices were far away now, likely past the kitchen.
But Nadia was still shaking. Doing her best to imitate Mairee, who was picking up sheets and tossing them over the ropes stretched all over this relatively empty room, she asked in a shaky voice, "Does Tahra live here?"
Aside from a flicker of curiosity at hearing Nadia say Tahra’s name, Mairee ignored her and kept silent, trembling just as much as Nadia was.
6
When they got down to the bottom of the mountain, Baltair turned the horse Ciaran was on to the left, opposite the direction they'd come from and not toward Cameron castle, either. Was their plan to ride around the mountain and still go see Searc?
Och, nay!
"We must gae rescue Nadia!" Ciaran urged. "Who can ken what they wull dae tae her this time? Last time they were gaun'ae sacrifice her!"
Baltair had slowed their horse to a walk, but he hadn't gotten down to walk it without a rider the way one normally would after such a run. Because he didn't want Ciaran to take off after Nadia.
Eoin spoke. "We need more people. I keep telling ye sae, and ye willna hear. The Camerons wull hae taken her tae their stronghold betwixt the lochs. The three o’ us dinna stand a chance against a force sae large. Nay, not even with the halberd."
While Baltair urged their horse into a trot —again, so that Ciaran couldn't get off without injuring himself on the rocks, Ciaran did what he’d done a dozen times already, called back to their bigger cousin over his shoulder. "Ye canna ken that!”
"And by the way," Eoin said in an offhand manner that piqued Ciaran's interest the way yelling wouldn't have. This sounded like something new, finally.
Alas, it was.
"That halberd is accursed. Whosoever uses it wull hae much power against their enemies, but they wull suffer an early and painful death. I didna get it for us tae use. The druids told me tae remove it from Celtic University, bury it up here in the highlands, and na tell anyone where."
Fear seeped into Ciaran's heart. The words Eoin had said rang true.
But he was a Scot, tough as nails. "Verra wull then, cursed as I am already, use it I wull some maire. ’Tis oor best chance against that druid child, Tahra."
Baltair responded this time, with a hitch in his voice. "Ye dinna ken yerself tae be already under the curse. It may be that if ye stop using the halberd nae, then ye willna suffer the early grave. I dinna want for ye tae give up yer life tae this accursed druid tool."
Ciaran answered Baltair loud enough for Eoin to hear.
"I'm willing tae dae sae for the sake o’ my clan, and for the woman I believe I might hae loved. If I gae tae her now, with the help o’ this halberd, mayhap I can pass myself off as some aught I am na. Mayhap the Camerons wull take me in, and ye wull hae yer spy. Eoin, ye ken its ways. Help me tae use it thus."
"Halt, Baltair,” Eoin said from behind them.
Baltair turned their horse to face their cousin.
Eoin beckoned them over, and once they were huddled so all were in contact with him, he closed his eyes and concentrated again with that look on his face, out here in the Highlands in view of God, nature, and no one else, where they would return again from their time travel.
The world spun, but the horses, well-trained draft horses both, stood patiently still.
When they appeared back in the alley where they had last been with the apple wagon, it was again the dead of night, and Ciaran mentally congratulated whoever’s foresight that had been. But he was impatient. "Why are we here and nay at the Cameron stronghold?" he growled at his bigger cousin.
Eoin took it in stride, deftly getting off his horse, tying it to a post, and gesturing for Ciaran and Baltair to do the same with theirs while he stood waiting. "I dinna ken how tae make the halberd dae a thing aside from paralyze the enemy. Howsoever, the folks who run this place dae, and sae I hae come tae ask them."
Again, Ciaran felt fear try and overtake his mind. Magic was unnatural, and though it was convenient for time travel, it certainly did have its perils. "And ye think they wull dae whate’er ye ask o’ them?"
Eoin started them walking toward one of the dozens of buildings in this huge stronghold. "Och, nay. There be but one o’ them who wull dae any o’ my bidding, but she and I gae way back." He took out a slab of black glass the size of his hand and ran his fingers over it, then tapped it repeatedly with both thumbs for a few moments before putting it back in his sporran.
Lowering his voice to barely a whisper because he didn't know if anyone was around who could hear them, Ciaran asked, "Didna Meehall say Kelsey couldna be trusted?"
Eoin looked straight ahead. "If he did, 'tis news tae me." He walked past that one building and over toward a grander one a ways through the massive grounds of the druid fortress.
Ciaran drank it all in with unbelieving eyes. “Dozens o’ huge castles. They must house thousands o’ people! If the druids hae taken everything ower, here in the future—"
Eoin elbowed Ciaran in the stomach. Hard. "Dinna think those thoughts, leave alone voice them. Not here, and not anywhere. Howsoever, I tell ye true: Celtic University doesna hold even one o’ every hundred people nearby. There are many more people in the future than during yer time. That is all."
They went inside the grand castle and up the stairs, then down a long hallway. All the while, the lamps lit themselves as they walked. Extraordinary! But Eoin had spoken of electricity to Ciaran enough times before that he realized this must be artifice, rather than magic.
Eoin must have woken Kelsey with his little slab of black glass, because she opened the door as soon as they knocked and was quick to invite them all three in and then close it again, twisting a small device inside the doorknob after she did. "So nice to see you, John. These must be your cousins. Baltair, Ciaran, I'm Kelsey, and ’tis pleased to meet you, I am." She turned to Eoin again. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Ciaran studied Kelsey's face while Eoin explained that Nadia had gone back to their time and been captured by the Camerons, and the three of them wanted Kelsey’s help, both to contact Nadia in her sleep and to get the halberd to disguise itself and Ciaran.
Kelsey didn't seem one bit surprised, and though this could have been because she had studied how to make her face the mask of the stoic as might be required from a druid, he didn't think so.
After Eoin finished, she smiled at Ciaran and spoke. "Aye, I will help you contact Nadia tonight during all your dreams. It will help if you all sleep here. It will be safer. I insist. I'll see that you go back to your time soon after you speak to Nadia so that you have plenty of time to enact any plan we make. As for the halberd and disguising it to help you become a spy, Ciaran…"
She made a show of tapping her fingertips against each other in secession in front of her. "I do believe that inside your dream is the best place for me to instruct you on that, as well." She gestured to three couches right there in her sitting room. "Now if you all will lie down and go to sleep, we can begin." Smiling at them over her shoulder, she went into the other room and closed the door. There was a definite click as she sprung a device in that knob, as she had in the door to the main hallway.
Eoin got up and went over to her door and knocked on it. "Let's look in on Meehall and Sarah as well."
Kelsey's voice came from the other side of the door. It sounded like she was already lying down. “Sorry, but the two of them have requested I leave them be."
7
Mairee had calmed down a lot since the incident in the hanging room, but she still wasn't the carefree woman who had sang rounds with Nadia. None of them were. The rest of the afternoon washing was somber. No one had been willing to talk about anything at all, let alone sing.
Did Tahra live here? Was it only a matter of time before the druid child recognized Nadia and reclaimed her lost sacrifice?
Nadia’s stomach was eating itself up with worry. Dare she reach into her purse under her skirts and get out the Snickers bar she kept for emergencies? No way would she be able to explain the wrapper. Maybe if she unwrapped it in her purse? She looked around at all the somber faces and decided that since she had the means to cheer them a little, she should.
“I have some aught tae share with ye all,” Nadia said to them as she put down the wash she was dunking and dug the candy out of her bag, unwrapping it first and then splitting it up into eight pieces. “Hae ye tasted chocolate afore? And peanuts? Caramel?”
Wide eyed, they all shook their heads in the negative and thanked her profusely as she handed them their share, then closed their eyes in bliss when they tasted the confection.
Nadia ate hers last, and felt instant relief when that small bit of sugar hit the spot and un-soured her belly. Almost at the same time, the scent of roasting meat wafted down the hall from the kitchen, making her stomach growl.
“Time tae tidy up the washroom sae we can gae help serve the supper,” said the oldest among them, Sorcha.
Nadia couldn't put her questions off any longer. She had to know. "Will we serve the supper in the great hall? And does Tahra take her meals there?"
Mairee put an arm around Nadia. "Och, nay. Fear ye na. The wives serve their husbands. We are na allowed in the great hall. We stay in the kitchen and fill the serving dishes."
Nadia relaxed against Mairee. "Thanks be tae God."
Mairee and the other women crossed themselves and nodded in the affirmative.
For good measure, Nadia did the same, even though she wasn't Catholic. This was a way to bond with her new coworkers, and Nadia did believe there was protection in Heaven, just not in the act of making the sign of the cross.
They all entered the kitchen in accord.
"The food smells wondrous!" Nadia exclaimed when they reached the kitchen and she saw the roast being taken off the fire, the vegetables being taken out of the stew pot, and the fresh bread and pies coming out of the ovens. Seeing a stack of plates resting on the kitchen table nearby, she took one and went over to slice herself some of the roast and dish out some of the vegetables, fully intending to eat at the kitchen table, of course.
Mairee's voice sounded a bit high-pitched from behind her. "Och nay, Nadia. We dinna dish up the food for the men. The wives serve their husbands oot there in the hall. We dish the food ontae the platters. Here, I wull get ye one."
Nadia felt her face turning red. So even though they ate in the kitchen, they had to wait until the important people were served. She couldn't help but giggle a little, and when Mairee got close, Nadia whispered to her, "Ah, I ken. We’re at the bairns�
� table."
Mairee's face was puzzled and concerned when she held out a platter and gestured for Nadia to dish some meat onto it. In fact, she had second thoughts and pushed the platter into Nadia's hands, gesturing for Nadia to hold it still while she dished the meat into it.
All eight of the women who had been washing together were busy like this for half an hour or so before the wives finally stopped coming into the kitchen for more platters of food.
Mairee patted Nadia's back. "Now we can get oor own food and sit doon at table."
Nadia saw why, too. They got the leftovers. The gristly ends of the meat and the soggy bottoms of the vegetables. The heels of the bread. At least there was butter. And oh! The food was delicious, nonetheless. She didn't know how long it'd been since she had a homemade meal. The slop that she ate in the cafeteria at Celtic was mass-produced quickly, ‘meant to feed the body, but not entertain the mind,’ was the motto of the druids who ran the place. Nadia had two slices of apple pie.
When all eight of them who Nadia thought of as washerwomen had finished washing their own dishes and then everybody else's dishes, it was dark out. She estimated it was 7pm or so, it being early spring and high up in latitude.
She turned to Mairee as the two of them rested against the huge washtub in the kitchen. "Now what dae we dae, sit roond the fire and tell stories?" She asked hopefully.
Mairee looked at her incredulously. "Nay, now we gae tae oor cots and fall asleep as fast as we can, sae that we get enough sleep afore we hae tae get the stove ready for the breakfast bread."
Nadia groaned and pushed away from the washtub, staggering as she stood and realizing she was very tired.
Mairee gestured for Nadia to help her get some heavy blankets out of a large cabinet at the end of the room.
Nadia rushed over and did so. "These are the heaviest blankets that e’er I did see. Is na there a warming fire in oor room at night?"
