The Archivist

by Christy Sloat

  As I came out of the kitchens I passed a man and a woman in the shadows sneaking nighttime kisses that would lead to goodness knows what. I climbed the first set of steps that led me out into the main floor. I hadn’t explored the castle yet and doing so now was perfect because things were quiet and calm. Most everyone was drunken by the wine served at dinner or doing so with whiskey in their own personal rooms. I didn’t care for the Scottish whiskey myself. It was entirely too strong, so I always held up a hand and politely said no. The main floor was lit so beautifully with candles that the shadows literally seemed to dance upon the stone walls as I walked. I would never get used to how different things were in medieval times. I wasn’t able to use a bathroom with indoor plumbing until I got back, and it was awful. I tried to grin and bear it but the thought of not being able to have privacy for the rest of my time here was rough. I would have to bathe at some point and that would kill me. Bathing wasn’t something that a lot of people felt necessary to do on a regular basis. When they did they usually would do so in the bath house, which in this castle seemed to be located right outside the kitchen, by the main garden. As I went outside earlier to fill up my spices, I saw naked men washing themselves in a small building. The doors were open, and in the center of the room there was a pool of water that they were climbing in and out of. I had never seen anything like it before.

  When I asked Iona what the room was for she chuckled and told me that it was the bathing house. I must have gone white when she told me our wash day was in three days. She had patted my shoulder and said, “Oh, it’s alright, love. You just go in and wash up and then it’s over. You’ll see, it’s easy. No reason to fret. And then you don’t have to do it for another two weeks”

  I had never had to bathe here before, because I’d never stayed long enough to get dirty. I’m sure there was a nearby lake I could use instead of the bath house. I was not, and I mean not, bathing in front of a bunch of strangers. Seeing this body naked would likely shock a lot of people, and it wasn’t something I was ever comfortable with. No one besides my mother had seen me nude before. Being comfortable in my own skin was a goal I had someday, but it wouldn’t happen here. Jessa always walked around in her underwear, and I could never understand it. She said once that it made her feel free. Feeling free was something totally different for me. That would leave me feeling totally exposed.

  As I continued walking, it seemed as if the castle went on and on. It was rather huge. Not sure where I was going, I knew not to go upstairs, because that’s where the personal bedrooms were. I meant to stay on this floor and to explore as much as I could until I found my way around. And once that was done, I would find this boy that I was searching for. But once I reached the far eastern part of the corner I stopped dead in my tracks. I had found something I never thought possible in this era, a library.

  Seven

  Most castles in this era didn’t have need for libraries, since they were meant for military purposes. So as I stepped inside the room that held so many books before me, I was shocked. Pleased, but shocked. The room wasn’t huge by any means, but it was still by all accounts, a library. The large stone fireplace was burning low and it was a tad bit cold in here. I stoked the fire with the poker to help the logs burn longer. But it didn’t seem to help at all. The flames were still small when I heard a large voice behind me say, “Ye might want to try to add another log to it. Or using this.” He reached around me and took a tool to add a blast of air to the dying fire. This made the fire blaze and his breath on my neck caused the hair on my arms to stand on end and gave me chills. I remained frozen as he added a log to the fireplace. I wasn’t supposed to be in rooms such as these and if this person was one of Sir Malcolm’s fighters, I could be in serious trouble. I didn’t want to get locked up in the dungeon. I had heard the horror stories from the other servants about the conditions of it. I did hear that there was an Englishman locked down there who wouldn’t likely see the light of day anytime soon.

  “Lass, you may get up. Unless you like kneeling by the fire like so,” he said. I stood slowly and turned around. It was the guy from the stables. His face looked kinder, maybe because it was clean. His blond hair pulled all the way back and tied with a piece of leather. I had to leave.

  “If you’ll excuse me, sir. I’ll take my leave. I must be off to bed,” I said as I tried to duck around him.

  “Oh, no you don’t lass. What are ye doing in this room, then?”

  I swallowed hard. “I came to check on the fire.”

  He shook his head. “Is everything you say a lie? Do you ever say the truth?”

  How did he know I was lying to him? What was it about me that showed him my lies?

  “I was checking the fire. What are you doing in here?”

  I realized then that we were both speaking English and not Gaelic. I had something on him.

  “And how do you know English?” I had acquired the correct dialect and accent by now, so I sounded Scottish as well. It wasn’t hard to do, but it was hard when you were scared or frustrated, like I often was.

  “Why do you?”

  “Because I do, that’s why. Now may I leave?” I asked pointing to the doorway.

  He stood tall and said, “No. Ye can’t leave.”

  Great! I was stuck in here with this brute at the farthest end of the castle where no one would likely hear me. I stepped back, away from him and tried to look for a way out of this.

  “I’ll scream,” I said, foolishly.

  He looked at me funny and then started laughing. His laugh was hardy and almost made me laugh with him. It didn’t match his personality at all. I wondered what his deal was. What his story really was, because he was mysterious indeed.

  “I mean to tell you something,” he said, reaching behind him. He slowly pulled something from his back and I braced myself, expecting a blade to flash at me at any moment. I had no weapon to protect myself with.

  When I looked down I saw the poker and knew that was what I needed to get. So I bent down and reached for it as quickly as I could. When I looked up, I came face to face with what he was pulling out; a beautiful purple flower.

  “I picked this for ye, lass. After our encounter today in the stables, I felt awful. I went out on a walk, to calm my head, you see. And I came across a field of the most beautiful thistles you could ever find. It’s hard to find them here, especially when it’s getting cold. I shouldn’t have said that word to you. I never meant to call you that. I only meant to say that calling me a bastard was the same as me calling you that. That’s not what you are. I know that.”

  Wow. What a strange turn around. I stood up, awkwardly dropping the poker, and took the thistle. It was beautiful. I had never seen one up close before. The sharp sections of the flower were odd, but the beautiful petals at the top made up for its strangeness. The vibrant purple was my favorite color. The flower was unique, like me.

  I sniffed it and realized the scent wasn’t my favorite, but the flower was gorgeous and the thought behind it even better.

  “Thank you. Apology accepted.”

  He nodded, but still didn’t smile. It made me wonder if he had the ability to do so. Maybe being in this castle had that effect on people. The dank smell coupled with the feeling that you were locked inside a crypt didn’t help my attitude that was for sure.

  “I am sorry for calling you a bastard. I didn’t know it would strike such a nerve. I just wanted to find the boy who mucked the stall out. I lost something and you… you made that difficult for me. I got angry,” I said as I tucked the thistle into my apron. “By the way, do you know where I can find him?”

  “Find who?”

  “Eoin. Mistress Ainsley said he’s the one who cleaned the stall.”

  His face turned red and then I saw it. A smile; cocky yet clever. “Och, aye. That’s me.”

  Eight

 
Of course that was him. Well, at least this guy had a name though. But now I was stuck at another dead-end road. He already said he didn’t find my bracelet. It made me wonder if I had lost it somewhere else, but in the back of my mind, I knew it was gone. And that meant, I was here forever now.

  I moved toward the wooden chair in the room and sat down with a thud. My head in my hands, I couldn’t help but weep, loudly. Eoin didn’t move or say a word. But he didn’t leave. I cried so hard snot began to pour out and when Eoin handed me a handkerchief, I thanked him with a nod of my head. I looked up and saw him staring at the flames and letting me do my thing. He was an odd guy. He seemed quiet and reserved and very mysterious. After a few minutes, I calmed myself slowly. Eoin sat in the adjacent seat and pulled out a blade from his belt. He began to whittle a small piece of wood from the pile near the fireplace. We sat like that in silence for a while. Neither of us talking, just sitting there. I pulled a book from the only shelf near me and thumbed through the pages.

  “Not sure if you should be reading Mistress’s books, lass,” Eoin said finally. He was right. I put it back carefully.

  “I love books. I can’t help myself,” I told him. “Do you carve wood frequently?” It was a strange conversation starter, but given the moment, I had nothing else.

  He blew the wood chips off of his kilt and nodded.

  “Aye. It helps pass the time. When you are alone, like I was, it’s the one thing you get good at doing. I have many pieces carved. I used to sell them where I came from. I had many customers who would request different pieces; a dog, a flower, and even toys. When my ma became ill I stopped to take care of her. But then she died, and I took it up again.”

  Wow. That was more information than I expected him to give me.

  “Sorry to hear about your mother. Did you have a good relationship with her?”

  He nodded and then looked up at me. “Why? Don’t you have a good one with your ma?”

  “Not my favorite thing to speak about. Tell me about your father.” I wiped my nose and tried to hand him back the hanky.

  “Ah, keep it. I have more,” he said, holding up a hand. “My da. He was brave, strong, and pigheaded. But he wasn’t around much. He’s married, not to my ma. So when you called me a bastard, you weren’t far from the truth.”

  Oh crud. Of course I would screw something like that up. I felt horrible now. Me and my mouth.

  “Sorry.”

  He shrugged and then went back to carving. I wondered how long we were going to sit there in one another’s company. Would he eventually get up and leave, or was he waiting on me?

  “Oh, heaven’s me.” Eoin and I both looked up to see Mistress Ainsley crossing the threshold. “I certainly didn’t think to see anyone in here at this late hour.”

  She was dressed in her night robe and her golden hair was down around her shoulders. She looked like an angel.

  I stood fast and bowed to her. “Mistress, I am just leaving. I came in here to check the fire. And then Eoin—”

  “No need to apologize, Mollie. ‘Tis all right. I am glad that I found you, though, my dear. I am in need of assistance in my room, if that’s not a bother. I know that you are working in the pantry, but my clothier and maid are both ill at the moment. It seems that there is something taking all of my help and making them sick. I saw two others disposing of their stomach contents earlier.” She made a face of disgust and I tried hard not to laugh. I just thought briefly of the last time Jessa got drunk. What a big mistake that was. She cannot handle her liquor at all! She puked from one end of our apartment to the other. Ainsley would have had a heart attack at that sight. “Is that something you can help me with?”

  I nodded, breaking my thought of Jessa. “Of course, Mistress. Anything to assist you.”

  “Very well. Grab me a book and follow me.” I looked for the book I just had and pulled it free once more. Ainsley took leave and I followed. Just before I left the room, Eoin touched my hand.

  “Find me tomorrow,” he whispered. Chills ran through me and I found myself nodding like a silly schoolgirl. We locked eyes and for a brief moment, for that one second, I didn’t feel lost. When I blinked, it was over.

  Ainsley’s quarters were massive. They spanned one whole length of the east side of the castle. They held a personal bathroom, which was quant for my taste, but in this era extravagant, and a bedroom so large it tripled mine. Her bed was made from real wood and was draped in white cloth around the four posts. The quilt was no doubt real Scotch wool and the color was a deep blue and red. I thought about the ways they would have had to dye the wool to get such colors in this time; it was magnificently rich.

  “Do you like my bed?” she asked as she began to undress. Things were getting awkward fast. I wasn’t sure what she needed me for, but it seemed like she didn’t need my assistance taking her clothes off.

  “Err, of course. It’s very pretty, Mistress.”

  She nodded and turned so that her back faced me. “I need help, with the laces,” she clarified, finally. I began working on them and she breathed a sigh of relief. I understood what she felt, for I too was in pain due to the clothes I wore. Once she was unlaced, I pulled off her corset and helped her step out of it. Standing in just her shift, she faced me. “Can you fill the tub with water? It will need warming in the fireplace.”

  I turned to the fire, and then to the tub. “I know, my dear. It’s strange that I bathe this often, but it comforts me when my husband is away. I do love to soak in the tub.”

  Who was I to ask questions or assume something was odd? I showered daily at home. My hesitation wasn’t on the frequency of her bathing, but the method. This was going to take forever. I nodded my head and went to work heating the water on the fire. I had no idea how to do it, but after watching Iona do it daily in the kitchens, I was learning fast.

  “Are your da and ma still alive, Mollie?”

  I swallowed hard, not sure how to answer, so I decided for honesty.

  “My mother is still alive, yes. We have a hard relationship. We grew apart. As for my father, he is married to another woman. I guess you could say I never knew him well.”

  “Ah, aye. My ma and I are not close at all. And my da is dead, seven long years now. Seems everyone dies when you don’t want them to. Are you wanting marriage soon?”

  It wasn’t unusual for her to ask me this. Women in this time were usually married by my age. I was actually considered too old to be single. At nineteen most girls were already married with one or two babies, or bairns as they referred to them.

  “Your water is warm enough, now,” I said, avoiding the answer. I turned around and Ainsley was already in the large tub, awaiting the water. I poured it in slowly and she lay back relaxing. I heated two more pots full of warm water, and Ainsley told me that I could ready her bed while she soaked.

  I made it up the way I would make my own, hoping that it would suit her needs. When she was ready to get out, I helped her into her shift and into bed. Before I pulled the covers over her she grabbed my hand gently.

  “Sit with me awhile. It would be nice to have a bit of company before I drift off to sleep,” she said. “Will you read to me a bit?”

  I sat beside the bed in a small wooden chair and opened the book. I read aloud to her which was hard to do without my glasses in the dim light. After the first couple of pages she interrupted me. I was thankful because reading Gaelic was a horrid business. I could speak it fluently, but reading it was like reading scrambled words. She must have thought me unable to read, because she told me I didn’t have to. It would suit my position to be illiterate I suppose.

  “Why are ya here, Mollie? Why not with your family or married off? You’re bonnie enough for a fine husband.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t pretty enough for a fine anything back home. Here, I guess I blended in with the other ladies in t
he kitchen, but I would never consider myself a catch.

  “I like it here,” was my answer.

  “There is something keeping you here, is that it?”

  I nodded. “Something like that.”

  “Maybe a calling, or you’re stuck. I can’t really tell which it is. But it is certain you are not meant to be here, lassie. That I can see as plain as the nose on your face.”

  Sitting back hard in my chair, shock overcame me. I never put much thought to the rumors that went around about Lady Ainsley having the ‘gift of sight.’ Most people didn’t believe in seers, but then again, no one thought time-travel was possible either. I was here to prove that it was.

  “Do ya want to leave?” she asked, simply. I decided to go with it and answer honestly; as honestly as I could.

  “I lost something very important to me,” I began. “It is the reason I am here at all, really. The problem is that I cannot find it and I think someone found it and sold it. I cannot leave until I have it back in my possession. Then I can go home, for good. I guess my time here is over after that.”

  “Did ya lose it in the stables? Is that why you were so frantic that day?”

  “Yes, I did. Eoin hasn’t seen it but he was the only one in there that day. I just need to have it back.” Tears came fast and I was embarrassed to cry in front of her but too tired to fight them off. In the end they won and I was a blubbering mess. I sniffed loudly and remembered the handkerchief Eoin had given me. Pulling it out, I wiped my mess of a face.

  “If you find it, will you leave and go back home where you belong? Do you promise me that, Mollie?”