“I think if we take a proper accountin’ we can prove me tae be the older brother and I am nae a mewlin’ bairn.”
“Och, ye are much like one when ye are nae a murderous king. Apparently ye hae killed our cousin.” He held his side gingerly. “I daena mind though, he was a contemptible arse. Imagine tae ask a man’s own brother tae murder him for food.”
“Aye, I also killed his father, Samuel. He was a contemptible arse as well, and Donnan. He was evil. Ye and I hae a great deal tae talk of, someday, if I am tae return.”
Tae Hammie I said, “Would ye witness the signin’ of a contract?”
“Yes, King Magnus.” He opened the door of a vehicle and brought out a notebook with a pen. I clicked the end and wrote on a page:
If I, Magnus Archibald Caelhin Campbell the First of Riaghalbane hae nae returned tae the kingdom within...
I asked Lady Mairead, “What date was it when ye left the future?”
“I daena ken, what are ye up tae?”
“Ye ken the date, ye always ken. Hammond, what date was it?”
“Twas November 24, 2386.”
I continued writing:
...one year past that date, November 24, 2386, tae the year 2387, the date of November 24, I, Magnus Archibald Caelhin Campbell, will abdicate my throne tae Fraoch MacDonald, the heir tae the throne, a direct descendent of Donnan II.
I signed underneath it.
I turned the page tae Hammond. “Read it and sign below it. Ye hae witnessed me writin’ it.”
After he signed, I ripped out the page and passed it tae him. I asked, “May I keep the pen?”
“Of course, King Magnus. There are always more pens.”
Lady Mairead asked, “What hae ye done, Magnus? What did ye sign?”
“Hammond, ye can tell her.”
“King Magnus, if he’s not able to return, is to abdicate his throne to his, um...?”
I said, “To Donnan’s son, my half-brother, Fraoch MacDoanld.”
Lady Mairead said, “This is unacceptable, Magnus, what if I canna get ye returned?”
“Then ye should be kinder tae Fraoch, beginnin’ now.”
She scoffed. “I winna, he is an illegitimate son of Donnan.”
“Then ye need tae go verra fast bringing me home so he winna be your ruler.”
“If ye remained here ye could help me figure it out, ye could raise yer children and be the king.”
“Nae, dost ye hear yerself? Ye are already actin’ as if it winna be possible. It has tae be possible. Ye need tae find the possibility. Kaitlyn winna survive alone, I am goin’.”
Hayley looked terrified.
“I beg yer forgiveness for scarin’ ye, Hayley, for threatenin’ ye and Fraoch.”
“I’m not forgiving you for it. I may never forgive you for it. Please bring Katie home.”
“I will do m’best.” I exhaled and took stock. Hammond had ordered soldiers to gather and pack my supplies. The horses’s packs looked well stocked for a long time.
Lady Mairead said, “I daena understand what you are carrying on about. Ye canna go, tis a death sentence for ye.”
“Nae, tis a death sentence for Kaitlyn if I daena go. She canna speak tae them, tae ask for help...” I scowled. “I ken it may not be possible tae come home, but do yer best.”
“Where do I start?”
“I would start at the beginning of the vessels. Ye hae the book. Kaitlyn verra kindly gave it tae ye, use it. If it daena hae the answer, go tae the future and ask the men who invented the vessels tae explain why it daena go farther back. Ask them tae teach ye how tae make it go. We will be waiting.”
Hammond brought me the horses. He shewed me the settings for the vessels he remotely activated. “This is how we set them, King Magnus, these numbers.”
I set the number sequence intae my own vessel and I led the horses, fully packed, farther away intae the field. I twisted the vessel as Hammie jogged away.
Then Hammond’s voice behind me, amplified by the drones. “Everyone find cover, please stand away! Step away from the walls, a storm is coming.”
Lady Mairead stalked after me, I could see from her face that fury was drivin’ her. “Ye are makin’ a mistake, tae go tae the past like this, it is tae die. I winna accept that ye are this driven tae die. I winna accept it.”
“Lady Mairead, in the beginnin’ ye dinna tell me anythin’ about usin’ the vessels. Every jump I thought I was tae die because I dinna ken how tae direct them, and I dinna ken how tae survive them. Every jump. Yet ye hae carried the truth of them. Ye had ways tae make the jumps better for yerself. I trust that ye are again keepin’ the truth from me.” I twisted the ends of the vessels.
Her mouth opened and closed. “I dinna ken everything from the beginning. I had tae learn it over time... but whatever ye think of me, I am nae lying. I truly daena ken how tae go that far intae the past. Tis like the vessels stop short at the mark, while flinging the traveler farther along. I daena understand the workings of it.”
The wind was rising, the storm growing higher. Lady Mairead was wringing her hands. “Even if I could go farther back, I winna ken what time ye are in.”
“Aye, ye will need tae do some searchin’,” I said, “Kaitlyn and I spoke about it once, tis as if an explorer has cut a new trail. They hae carved intae the darkened forest, but only tae a certain point. Then other travelers come along at a fast rate of speed, they hit the forest, the trail ends. They are thrown from their horse, yet the horse remains.”
“Magnus, how is that helpful?”
I shook my head. “It inna, except tae say, ye best get explorin’.” I held the horse reins and twisted the vessel tae complete the activation, the storm rose as she hustled away. In m’fury, the one I had been ridin’ all day, I got a certain pleasure in watchin’ her scurry — the fear in her eyes that I was headed tae a certain death.
I couldna consider it, the death sentence of it, only that Kaitlyn was already farther along, and I had nae choice but tae join her. Twas nae ones fault, but twas a great many years of m’mother’s manipulations that had brought us here, and were now forcin’ us there, as if off a horse —
I was thrown.
Twenty- eight - Kaitlyn
I was face down in the snow, freezing, like really cold. I raised my head to see Bella’s body beside me. I straightened to see her, dead, stone cold, murder-crime-scene dead. I threw up in the snow.
Where the hell was I?
Pine trees, forest, the ground, it looked a little like where I had left, but completely different, the weather was shit — that was all I had to go on.
It was too cold to think.
I needed the knife jutting from Bella’s stomach. I clamored to my feet, clutched the handle with freezing hands and tried to pull, but my fingers were too frozen to grip. I rubbed them vigorously to get the blood moving and tried again, one two three — tug. The blade yanked free. I wiped it in the snow and stuck it in my belt. Then I reached in Bella’s pocket for the vessel trying not to look at her face — her eyes were freaking me out.
I dug through her pockets. “Where is it?” I frantically looked in her other pocket. Also empty. I dug through the bag around my waist, no vessel there either. There was only an old grocery list: diapers, wipes, chocolate, pasta; a wadded up baby wipe that had been used on Archie’s hands; and an empty candy wrapper. I had taken out everything important and put it in the diaper bag. Did I have a vessel though? I thought I had, maybe I had given mine to Beaty along with the bag?
It had all happened so fast.
But there had been one here. It was how we got here. It had to... I pushed her shoulder to look under her body. A bloodstain in the snow, but nothing else. I wanted to bury her, I needed to get her out of the clearing, but it was also so freaking cold, terribly bone-chilling cold. Fuck. What if...?
Isla’s face flashed in my mind. Why wasn’t I with her? Why the fuck was I here? My front was wet. My breasts were leaking milk and they were so sore. My wh
ole body felt tight and shivering and my breasts were hot. I felt them, damn it. They were hard, and sore.
I had to do something.
I couldn’t think, couldn’t figure out what — I just knew if this was the clearing, then Balloch was northwest. I trudged through the snow, in some places knee-deep, as fast as I could go. I needed to go fast, but I was exhausted and in pain and so cold. I was wearing fucking sneakers! Why didn’t I ever wear snow boots? I should wear them everywhere, even in Florida, just in case. I should learn. I should be better.
Desperate, feeling the stinging scratches on my face, I made it to the edge of the woods, and could see the wide white snowy field and the stable, though it was much smaller. Oh no.
The castle wasn’t there. Instead there was a wooden fortress with timber walls, a short tower of stone standing in the middle of it. There was a gate, in the same place as Balloch. Within the walls I could see snow-covered roofs. The whole walled in area was so much smaller.
This was long before I came with Hayley and Quentin and —
Oh my god, I was in the past past past.
I was so far back I would never get home.
No vessel.
No Magnus.
Who even knew where I was?
The wind picked up, howling, spinning snow. The cold hurt my brain, like an icepick through my temple. The snow flurry made it hard to see. I could just die here, right here now, but also — it hurt.
The fortress was unrecognizable except for the small fence on the east side. It was familiar, as if a garden was enclosed there. I figured the kitchen door would be through that garden, and so I flung myself toward it, lurching through the knee-deep snow, the wind biting at my skin. I aimed for that kitchen, so I could beg the women there for help.
I made it to the door which was of course locked tight, and weakly banged on it. “Help me, please, help me!”
I banged again and fell on it sliding down to the muddy ground. “Please! Help me,” I begged. “Please.” It opened and I fell through to the ground with a flurry of snow following me. Exclamations of surprise from the women inside, they dragged me into the room.
Women rushed around, speaking all at once. They moved me toward the fire. One woman rubbed my hands. Because of my ring they knew I was married, but I couldn’t understand enough of the words they were using. But the way they were talking soothed me, another woman wrapped me in a blanket, and I cried — I sobbed for the warmth and for being saved and for how I was alive. A woman helped get my wet tartan unwrapped and she noticed the long drips of milk down my front into my skirt. She said something very like, “Och ye hae lost yer bairn?”
And I sobbed even harder, like my heart would break to pieces. Because yes — lost. Totally lost.
They left me alone, sobbing on a stool by the fire, shivering in fear, sadness, cold. Then a bowl of oatmeal was thrust into my hands and I ate and cried, wiping my nose on my wool blanket. I had to be the most piteous, desolate, lump of a near-dead being. They thought they had saved me, I knew that I was long dead, centuries dead.
I stared into the crackling fire and went blank.
Twenty-nine - Kaitlyn
A woman’s voice I didn’t understand spoke while hovering around me. She washed my face and my neck and my hands of dirt and grime and blood.
I allowed the cleaning with the bare minimum of cooperation, because of deep, overwhelming grief. The woman looked in my ears and had me open my mouth to see my teeth.
My focus was off. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, and my brain was a fog of confusion. They poked and prodded me and then got me up from the stool, and led me from the kitchen. The walls were mud and timber, the roofs thatched. Rooms were built right beside each other, leading from one interior to another. Floors were uneven dirt, and some door frames were so low I had to duck. It was freezing, cold, drafty, and there weren’t the luxurious artifacts of the Earl’s days, like carpets, and tapestries on the walls.
I was led through room after room, until we got to what must have been the nursery.
There were five children near the hearth gathering the only heat, hitting and fussing and carrying on, making a loud racket. A baby wailed in a cradle.
An older woman approached and met with the woman who had washed me. I didn’t understand, and couldn’t concentrate. My chin trembled. I was made to understand that the older woman was Mary. But all the other things were impossible to discern.
A tear slid down my cheek.
Mary gestured for me to open my blanket and show my breasts. I shook my head. Mary spoke sharply to me and then to the other lady and it seemed like they were questioning my intellect, so I tried harder to focus and understand. I gathered they were asking about my milk.
I honestly thought they were being kind. Like I thought they were trying to help me figure out what to do.
So I hand-expressed, from a breast that was big and hot and swollen, a stream of milk into my cupped hand. Mary nodded and sent the kitchen lady away.
I was led to a wooden armchair.
A wailing baby was picked up from a cradle and forced into my arms. Mary scolded me, yanked at my shirt, and then stood over me glowering while hands shaking, biting my lips, I got the little baby to nurse. And it felt so fucking good to nurse, like maybe I wouldn’t actually explode.
Mary appraised me, watching me, judging me. I looked away. Then suddenly her hand shot out, gripped my fingers, twisted my wrist, and she wrenched my wedding ring off my finger. “No please, that’s my wedding ring. Please.” She shoved it into her pocket and stalked away.
So I cried in relief and horror and sadness and staring down at the stranger in my arms where Isla was supposed to be.
Mary was irritated. She glared and seemed to find my tears offensive. I looked down at this baby, latched onto me, saving me by nursing, and I didn’t know if I was saving him too. I cried and cried. I shifted the ravenously hungry baby to the other side and stroked my fingers down his soft cheek and fed him.
Finally calm washed over me, hormone release and all. I leaned my head back and felt at peace as the baby slowly stopped nursing and began sleep-suckling, drawing me toward sleep too. My heartbeat slowed, my breathing calmed, my sobs quieted. I wiped my face with my arm as the baby lolled away from my breast fully fast asleep.
Mary rushed over and yanked the baby from my arms, placed him into a cradle, patted him perfunctorily on the back, and then rushed at me, screeching and yelling. Fucking scolding me.
I stared up at her, eyes wide, terrified, and silent because I had no idea what she was saying. At a break in her rant, I interrupted, “I want my ring, give me my ring back, please.” She jerked me to standing by the front of my shirt. I was taller, but she was scary as heck. She jerked me back and forth yelling at me, then smacked me across the face, grabbed me by the ear, twisted it so hard my knees crumpled, and dragged me, knee-walking, to the wall. She shoved me into the corner. Finger wagging she screamed over me as I cowered. Then she stalked away.
I curled up and pressed my eyes against my knees. And huddled there, my cheek stinging, until I finally fell asleep.
I woke to a baby crying. The room was dark, a small fire in the hearth, the baby was far away and not mine. The cries were alarming, but unfamiliar. It was uncanny how that universal sound wasn’t universal at all, it was specific: baby crying, not my baby.
I wondered where in the world or time Isla was and hoped Emma and Beaty were taking care of her, calming her cries. At the thought of her my breasts let down, rushing milk down my stomach.
Great, I would spend another day sopping wet. The crying came closer, and then I was kicked in the side. Apparently I was supposed to wake up and fucking come quiet this baby. She scolded me, her voice raised over the baby’s wails. Also apparent, she was irritated I wasn’t up already. I was so freaking hungry, so thirsty.
I sat in the uncomfortable chair with its hard-ass poorly designed seat, not deep enough, too straight-backed — the bairn was
thrust into my arms. Mary yanked my hands away, scolding, shaking her fist at me. She made herself clear, I wasn’t supposed to actually touch him. I wasn’t supposed to do anything but nurse. I mimed with my hand a drink of water. “Please,” I said, “water, please.”
She stormed off in a huff and returned with a small pewter cup of water. It was gone quickly, too quickly.
I was so thirsty still, but suddenly I also, unfairly, had to pee. I peered around the room, but couldn’t discern where the chamberpot was. The room smelled like babyshit and piss.
Speaking of, the baby in my arms was wet. I was wet. The fire was too low to warm the room. It was freezing. And all of it was fucking dismaying. I felt like I might cry again, but guess what? I would get smacked for it. So I nursed the stranger-baby on my right side and then turned him to nurse on my left, and then fell asleep before he finished. I woke with a start when Mary grabbed him from my arms, smacked me hard across the face again, lifted me with a twist of my ear, and knee walked me back to the corner.
I said, “I have to pee, where do I pee?”
She shoved me down and kicked me to stay there.
I cowered in a ball for a long time and then in the darkness of the night, with freezing gusts of wind through the cold-walled castle, on a stone-hard ground, alone in a long ago castle, no chance of ever going home.
I peed myself.
And then I cried some more.
Thirty - Magnus
I landed in deep snow in the clearing, twas almost dark, blizzard conditions, cathadh-sneachda. I fumbled through one of the bags strapped tae m’horse while he stamped, furious tae be in the biting cold. I spoke tae him, “Wheesht, tha e glè fhuar, but ye will be able tae handle it. Tis a stable nae too far away.”
In the top bag was a lantern and a parka. I pushed the button for light and dressed m’self warmer while looking around the clearin’ — there was a darkness tae the snow. I shoveled snow away and uncovered, frozen, Bella’s body.
Son and Throne (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 11) Page 12
