Celtic Peril (Celtic Storm Book 6)

by Ria Cantrell

  Derek studied Thomas Callum for many minutes. Finally, clearing his throat, he asked, “Are ye’ alright, Lad?”

  Tom gave an ironic laugh and said, “Oh sure. I’m fine. I mean it’s not every day you find out your cousin has married a 700 year old ghost.”

  “I’m nay a ghost, lad. And I guess that those years I was locked in my punishment, I didna’ age. Therefore, I am merely five and thirty or so years.”

  Tom just shook his head in disbelief. He ran his hand through his hair and said, “This is so freaking unbelievable.”

  “I know it seems so, but I have told ye’ the truth. Kiera will verify my story, if ye’ ask her.”

  “This is insane. I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

  “Trust me, lad. Neither ye’ or I am mad. I had nay thought to involve ye’ in this, but I have no choice, now. I cannot be with her but I need to know she will be safe. If anything happens to her, living in this time or the past will not matter to me. I would gladly forfeit my life for her.”

  “Yes, you already have, from what you have told me.”

  “Aye, and I would again. I would go with her now, but I am not ready to forfeit my future with her, either. That’s why I need ye’ to help me.”

  “But you are saying I am going to have to go back in time? I just find that impossible to fathom.”

  “Long ago, I did nay believe in things that seemed too impossible to imagine. I have learned that there are things that we mere mortals can nay understand but we should nay discount the unbelievable. I would nay be with the only woman I have ever loved if I had.”

  When Tom first met Derek, he would not have credited him with being an incurable romantic, yet here he was professing his undying love for his cousin Kiera like a love-sick schoolboy. To look at the man, one would never guess such a thing. The guy was like a human wall; sort of like that asshole guy Rory. Tom figured that medieval guys had to be fit, what with their training with heavy weapons like broadswords, battle axes, maces and morning stars; not to mention that they had to walk miles for the simplest of comforts.

  Tom stretched his neck. He drew in a deep breath and his thoughts warred inside his pounding skull. This was not his fight. He had no reason to want to encounter the unknown perils of the wilds of medieval Scotland. Derek watched him warily and he hoped his wife’s cousin would agree to help him. He said, “I know ye’ have no reason to aid me. To be honest, the man I was before meeting Kiera would nay rally to the cause, but I would nay ask fer’ yer’ help if I could do this myself.”

  Tom sensed a deep inbred pride within Derek and he believed that Derek would be reluctant to ask for assistance. He also knew that if Derek was asking now, it must be important but he just could not believe that he would somehow be transported in time. That was too far-fetched to understand. His body and mind rebelled against it. Still, there was one thing that called to him through the centuries…and that was Jenna Brandham.

  Tom did not know why, but he now felt like he had to meet her. He knew if there was a chance, he would have to take it. He did not want to think about the implications of such a thing. The girl lived nearly 700 years ago. She would not even be dust at this point and that thought made Thomas Callum feel sick inside. It was as if now that he knew there was a person named Jenna Brandham, knowing that she no longer walked in the mortal plane put shards like splintered glass right through his heart. It was at that moment that Tom said, “Alright. I’ll do it. What do I have to do? How will I be transported back to your time?”

  Derek thought for a moment and quite honestly, he said, “I dunna’ really know. There is a woman that will aid Kiera. I think that if ye’ follow them to the place, once she begins her conjurin’, mayhap ye’ will be taken as well. If it fails, then I will know that t’was nay meant to be, but I have to try…or rather, ye’ will try in my stead.”

  Tom nodded his affirmation. It was the most crazy thing he could have ever imagined. No, it was nothing he could have ever imagined, but like Derek said, at least he had to try. Who knows, maybe the reason he blacked out when he saw her picture was because somehow, where logic no longer existed, his heart remembered Jenna…from his jump back in time that he would take tomorrow and maybe; just maybe she called to him from the past to return. Maybe this is why he had the immunity to the bubonic plague…because he had already been there. If he went back, that would mean that some 700 years ago he was already there.

  “Dear God, that is mind boggling. My head aches just thinking about it.”

  “The leaping into the past, or that I was kept in a vault of isolation for centuries?”

  “All of it. I was just thinking that maybe I won’t fail…and if I don’t, then I was already there…and maybe my heart remembers her…Jenna.”

  Derek remembered when he first met Kiera, how he had dreamed of her or had imagined her finding him many times before it was actually so. He also had found Jenna’s resemblance to her so comforting that for a time, when he was still neither man nor spirit, but some sort of aberration caught in between, that he took comfort in looking at the painting of Jenna simply because it reminded him of Kiera. Mayhap, Jenna was the soul mate of this man. Stranger things had happened. Kiera was his soul mate… his anam cara.

  Derek tried to remember what the Old one had said about Jenna…something about how it took her long to find a mate; that she had resisted it until this man stole the lady’s heart. Could it be that Tom was that very one? Suddenly, Derek felt less guilty about asking for such a sacrifice from the young man. Mayhap the Guardians were working their magic through the Wheel of Time again. Still, he felt responsible for Tom’s dilemma. Gone was the Derek who would never give his choices a thought for the consequences they wrought on another human being. He had indeed been changed and with the love he found in Kiera’s arms, his heart had learned other things like compassion, caring, remorse, and gratitude. With everything he could express, for he was still a man of few words, Derek’s dark eyes searched the grey depths of Tom Callum’s. He said simply, “Thank you.”

  Tom just nodded; dazed and too stunned to say much else. Really, what could he say? If he had not felt the strange pull from the eyes of that portrait of Jenna Brandham, he would have just believed this was either an elaborate hoax or that Derek Campbell was indeed mad. The truth of the matter was that he had felt her pull and when he had kissed her in that drunken stupor, he felt her respond to him with a familiarity that would have normally sent an innocent young maiden fleeing to her mother’s arms. Yes, he thought. He would go. If it meant seeing that girl in reality, he could not let that opportunity slip through his fingers. Finally, he leveled his gaze upon the big medieval man standing before him.

  It was true…there was something very ancient about the man. Could it be he was telling the truth? Tom would find out soon enough.

  “When will I be…doing this thing?”

  “On the morrow, lad.”

  “The morrow,” Tom answered absently. Not much time to prepare himself for the unthinkable. He squared his shoulders. He said, “Will you help me, then? I mean, I have no idea what to expect; other than what I have read in books. I need you to give me some pointers as to what I must do to survive in the medieval world. You know first-hand what life was really like.”

  “Aye, that I do, and I can try to aid ye’. T’is not like what ye’ read about.”

  Tom raised his eyebrows to that statement, momentarily forgetting that Derek worked as an adjunct professor of medieval studies at the local universities. As if understanding his thoughts, Derek smirked and replied, “I can read, lad. And since coming to this time, I seem to nay be able to get my fill of things to pour over. The wealth of books are such a treasure in this time. Back in my time, we could only read the tomes that were penned by the monks. Not scintillating to say the least.”

  Tom nodded quietly. Casting a sidelong glance at Tom, Derek said softly, “Just one more thing, Lad.”

  Why did Tom feel like he was going to be hit wi
th a baseball bat at those words?

  “What else?”

  “Well, ye’ canna’ tell Kiera.”

  “Of course not,” Tom said rather sarcastically.

  “Look, lad. I know ye’ think I am settin’ ye’ up for some grand jest or something, but I promise ye’ I am not. I dunna’ take pleasure in such things…at least nay longer.”

  “Great,” Tom answered, feeling the dread once again settling into the pit of his stomach.

  “Seriously, Thomas. I will nay trick ye’. The thing is that I dunna’ think the Wise One will want anyone taggin’ along. I know not how this all works, but I believe her. I can tell ye’ I ne’er wished to, but it is because of her meddlin’ that I stand before ye’ now. I love Kiera. There is no doubt about that and I will die without her. I know that for I nearly did; but that is a story for another time. I think ye’ should try to get some sleep and then meet me in the castle yard after the first tour has gone through. Kiera will be busy seein’ to the tours and ye’ and I can discuss what ye’ need to know to go with her.”

  “I doubt I will be able to sleep, man. I mean this is the most outrageous thing I have ever heard.”

  With a rakish wink, Derek said, “Isn’t it though? I can tell ye’, Lad, the things I have experienced in the last few years of my life have been beyond belief, so I understand yer’ unease.”

  Tom scrubbed his hand through his hair again and he said, “I don’t think I have anything to wear.” It sounded inane and stupid, but he would be targeted if he wore attire from the present back to the past. The last thing he wanted was to be tried for sorcery or something just for wearing a pair of tight jeans.

  “Ye’ leave that to me. I think we are nearly the same size and I still have some things that may work fer’ ye. I’ve also collected things over time. I will show you. Now go on. Ye’ will need to have all yer’ wits about ye’.”

  That comment did nothing to alleviate the craziness of the night. Despite the dread that gnawed in his belly, something told Tom that he was in for one heck of an adventure. Not really understanding why, he thought to himself, “Patience, Jenna. I will be there soon.”

  Derek threw a heavily muscled arm across Tom’s shoulders. He said, “Not to worry, lad. I have a feelin’ all will be well.”

  “Easy for you to say. You left behind things like primitive plumbing and the plague.”

  The plague…again, Tom was reminded that for some strange reason he had an immunity to the plague. Well, that was good, given that he would be going to be back in a time where the plague was a valid and common fear.

  “I have a feelin’ the Guardians will protect ye’.”

  Tom almost felt an insane urge to laugh. “Are you psychic, now, Campbell?”

  “Not certain I understand but I suspect ye’ are asking if I am a Seer. Nay. Certainly not, but being married to one may be influencin’ me.”

  “Seer? Kiera is a Seer?”

  “Story for another day, Lad. Story for another day. Up ye’ go. Bed is awaitin’.”

  “Yes, maybe when I awaken I will find I have dreamed all of this up.”

  “Ye’ won’t, laddie,” Derek said, laughing. Tom believed him.

  ~

  Chapter Twenty-Two ~

  Kiera wondered why Derek had a change of heart. Right after Morag had explained that she needed for Kiera to go back in time, Derek had grown very angry. She had never seen him like that before and she wondered if it was a glimpse of the Derek of old. There was a dark silence that came over him and he left their apartments in haste, as if he was trying to not wreak violence on the old one, or maybe, for that matter, even on Kiera.

  Oddly, when he returned some hours later, he seemed calm and accepting of what Kiera had chosen to do. Kiera was not naïve enough to think that everything that marred Derek’s psyche in the past was gone forever. He was still who he was, and that was a man who had been a ruthless medieval warrior in a very turbulent and dangerous time. Despite that, Kiera loved Derek so deeply. In fact, she loved him all the more because of his very human flaws. He was so much part of his past that Kiera supposed it made him who he was, despite his journey into a redeemed future. Kiera knew from the first time she had laid eyes on his beautiful spectral form, that Derek was a good man, deep down where it counted the most. She had long come to terms with the blacker past that had deemed him to an unthinkable punishment of sad isolation. It had been hard to imagine the lethal highlander that was feared by many, but those times were very different to the ones they lived in now. Life was hard. Life was unpredictable. Life was full of danger. Derek was a man who survived many battles because of his strength, skills and intelligence. It was not a weakness that had driven him, but survival instincts in a world filled with peril.

  Still, she expected him to pitch the mother of all fits when he returned to their rooms late last night; rather early in the morning. Instead, he had almost become resolute about her decision to accompany Morag to the distant past. He did not brood or argue about it. He just quietly accepted it. That worried Kiera more than if he would have gone ape-shit on her. He was up to something, but she was not certain what it was. She hoped to God he wasn’t thinking of sneaking back with her because it could destroy any hopes of a future for them if he did. She prayed that Morag’s warning had gotten through that hard head of his and that he would not try to tempt the Fates with such a rash action.

  When she had risen, after a fitful sleep, Derek was already up and about. The man could get by on a nap while she found herself getting tired easily sometimes. She did not want to think about the cause. Derek would wring her neck if she was pregnant and still determined to make this dangerous journey. Kiera pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Morag said that she could only be gone a short time. While she could not bring herself forward or back, for that matter, to the exact minute she had left, Morag had assured Kiera that it would only be a short time, even if it seemed like a long time had passed. Thinking about the whole time-space continuum made Kiera’s head hurt and she felt a little dizzy just trying to grasp it.

  Of course, pregnancy could also do that to her, but she wasn’t going to worry about that for the moment. She trusted Morag…even when everything she believed rebelled at it. Morag had once told her to believe and to open her heart to the impossible. Kiera had fought loving Derek because of his nearly non-mortal existence, but in the end, she had found the other part of her soul. Mo anam cara… every time Kiera thought of those words, she felt a warmth that enveloped her.

  Derek had uttered that statement when he almost died protecting her. She knew it meant My Soul Mate…and she believed it with her entire being. She prayed that Derek would not try to play the gallant and somehow throw himself back in time with her. Kiera knew the consequences of such a thing would be quite dire. She would do everything possible to prevent it.

  Only, he had wandered off and when Kiera rose to bring the baby to her day-sitter, she saw Derek and Tom working with swords in the bailey. That was odd! She didn’t know Tom knew how to use a sword. She had grown used to seeing Derek training alone in the bailey, but she would have never guessed Tom would be able to parry with him. Jesus, I hope Derek doesn’t forget himself and cleave my cousin in half, Kiera thought. In reality, Kiera knew that Derek was more upset than he admitted. He always took to the lists, albeit alone, when he was upset. His presence there validated the fact that he was deeply troubled and though Kiera was as well, it still felt like something she needed to do.

  Kiera went to check on the tour guide and the gal who ran the gift shop. In finding all things in order, Kiera sought out Morag. She would need as much counsel as possible to help her make the transition from modern day to the ancient past.

  ~~~~~

  When Derek led Tom to the list field, Tom wanted to laugh out loud in his face, but Derek would not be swayed. He said blandly, “I need to see if ye’ can hold yer’ own with a sword, lad.”

  “I have no intention of getting sliced in half b
y you or by some medieval lunatic.”

  “I promise to nay cleave ye’, och but I canna’ say the same for anyone else. Life is verra’ different there. Ye’ need to be able to defend yerself.” And my woman, if the need arises. Derek left that part out of the mix and felt it was better left unsaid. Somehow, he believed if Tom had to, he would protect Kiera in any way that he could, so what better way than to train the lad in basic sword maneuvers so at least he would have a fighting edge. Derek would hate to learn the lad had gotten himself killed because of some skirmish.

  “Here, lad. Get a feel for this, for t’is nay as easy as ye’ may think.”

  Tom had played baseball and he hoped the weight of the sword was a lot like a good sturdy bat, but when Derek pressed the hilt of the sword into his hand, his knees fairly buckled. He may have appeared buff, but while his friends spent hours in the gym, Tom usually bowed out to read, or hike or play music. His physique made him appear that he worked long hours doing squats and crunches because he had rock-hard abs and pretty good upper-body strength. He was certainly not flabby but he was lucky enough to not have to do endless workouts to get that way.

  With a smirk that was starting to bug the shit out of Tom, Derek said, “There ye’ go, lad. Ye’ll get used to it. Now try raising the sword up and hold it before ye’. Use both yer’ hands and spread yer’ legs out to balance ye’.”

  Strangely enough, when Tom followed those instructions, the sword seemed easier to hold. He raised it up and felt an odd sense of power to be able to wield it, even if he had done nothing more than lift it.

  “Good. That’s a start. Let me see if ye’ can swing it.”