“Where do we go, Samantha?” Boomer asked.
“How would I know—” Odd fragments of memory clicked into place. “We live at the shepherd’s cottage in the far fields.”
“I thought so too,” Boomer agreed as his face turned to smile at her. “We can sneak into the keep and swipe food from the kitchens as needed. I think we may even be the ones who took the other set of fatigues. A month and a half is too long to go without a change of clothing.”
She nodded as the image of the next month filled her mind. Her head lifted to note the weaponry slung over his shoulder and resting on his back. “Looks like Jeff was right about gunshots on the day of the battle.”
Boomer agreed. “We still need to be careful. We’re armed, but there are only two of us.”
Paradox danced through her thoughts. Two sets of them existed in Faolan’s world. Just because they lived in one timeline to open another door, they had entered an unwritten future. They only knew someone fired the weaponry when the keep was attacked, no more. “I’ve got your back,” Samantha said with a smile.
“Always have yours,” Boomer answered. His gaze shifted in the direction of the field where it all started. “I suggest we wait and help ourselves to swords from the dead men after everyone leaves the area. We can trail our party.”
Boomer’s head tilted in question. “Did you ever go back into your pack and check the counts on the MREs?”
“We only ate a couple of dried meals, and then Dana fed us,” Samantha said.
“That’s what I remembered too. At the lake we leave our packs when I swim and you talk with Jensen. I suggest we grab some supplies and then head for the hut.”
Samantha smiled and nodded. I have one thousand, one hundred and four hours to wait, to survive. It’s only morning, and we left in the late afternoon. So, there are actually one thousand, one hundred and ten hours to go until I can be with Faolan again.
Chapter 22
Boomer never thought he would miss the long hours of standing guard while Samantha was logged into UNK005. He was so very wrong. The last two weeks had been torture.
The shepherd’s hut was only an eight by ten room with thin wood plank walls, a dirt floor, and a roof that leaked in the rain. Stolen blankets and sleeping bags did little to make it more comfortable. Homey was never going to happen in the hovel. The hours had slowed to a trickle with no work to be done. Food was pilfered from the keep, and the stream behind the hut provided drinking water.
So far he had been lucky, and no one had questioned him when he strode into the kitchens to gather a large bag for a to-go meal. Samantha’s memories guided his actions and kept him from running into anyone of significance or anyone who would question him. Boomer thought with a smile about the fact that the women in the kitchens were too afraid of his size to do anything more than accommodate him and tease him for his large appetite.
Boomer always made those trips alone. Though Samantha had promised to stay clear of detection, he knew it would be asking too much of her. One glimpse of Faolan and their plan would be ruined and the near-past changed. While he gathered supplies, she kept watch in field. While no one had seen the scouts of the dragon-priests, the threat couldn’t be ignored.
Even with the threat, boredom had taken over. For the first time in her life, Samantha had nothing to do. She was driving him crazy. Between lamenting over Faolan, worrying about their safety, and being without the laptop, she was close to certifiable. The combination was pushing him dangerously close to the edge of sanity.
The diversion of the day had been what both of them needed. A long walk through the woods to the loch had been his plan. While the stream was clean, it was shallow and not nearly as satisfying as a whole body dunk. Boomer missed the rudimentary tubs in the keep.
As Samantha emerged from under the water, Boomer asked, “Does it help?”
“I feel a little better. You were right, and this was a good idea.”
Boomer sighed, and he floated on his back in the cool water. The last few days she had been quiet and a bit too pale for his taste. Depression had crossed his mind, but he didn’t think that covered it.
“Maybe you should tell me,” Boomer said as he shifted to stand in the shallow water. Samantha hadn’t met his eyes when she had denied knowing what bothered her. He knew she was holding something back.
Boomer averted his eyes as she left the water and dried off with a cloth. Privacy between them had always been in short supply, and it was the best they could do for the other.
His request hung in the air as he left the water, dried off, and dressed. Several more minutes passed in quiet as they sat on the rocks and gazed at the sun’s image on the still lake.
“I think I’m pregnant,” Samantha said in a hushed voice. She continued with a list of symptoms that included mild nausea and a lack of a period.
“Are you sure?” Boomer asked, knowing it was a stupid question.
“Gee, Boomer, I’ll make a doctor’s appointment for the lab work and get back to you with the definitive answer.” Sarcasm dripped with the comment.
A smile lit his face, and he turned to face her. “I’m an uncle. Very cool.” When her eyes lit with a soft smile, he continued, “I can’t wait to see the look on Faolan’s face when you tell him, oh, and Dana’s too.”
“What if he . . .?” Samantha started to say.
“Don’t go there, Sam. I personally gave the man an out from marrying you, and he wanted nothing to do with it. We both heard his scream when the door closed.”
Before she could reply, both of them jumped to their feet at the sound of horses closing fast. With no time to run for the cover of the trees, they hid within the rocks that guarded the side of the loch.
When Boomer heard familiar voices, he looked down to glare at Samantha. Her lips moved silently to say she had no idea Faolan and Kagen came to the loch that day. She only knew they rode home from his sister’s home and had dinner in the village. Boomer realized it was the day when he’d had to pull a drunken Sam off of a worked-up Faolan.
He nodded at the memory of the day, and both of them crouched within the rocks. He hoped it would be a quick swim for the men as he wanted to get her back to the hut before dark and, more importantly, without being seen.
Kagen’s voice could be heard as the sounds of water sloshing ended. “Have you thought any more on what your mother arranged?”
“I told you I have no wish to speak upon it.” The irritation was evident in Faolan’s clipped reply.
“As your cousin, your friend, and your advisor, we need to speak upon it. ‘Tis a fine marriage offer she presented to you with a strong clan we trade with frequently. That the lass is lovely only sweetens the deal.”
“My mother had no place to invite them to my sister’s kenning I was coming to visit.”
Boomer wrapped his arms around Samantha’s shoulders as the conversation continued. He hoped he had the strength to hold her in place because he felt her anger begin to simmer at the unexpected conversation. At that moment, Boomer cursed his idea for an afternoon’s diversion.
“Your mother delivered all you could ask for,” Kagen continued. “The dowry is more than you wanted, trade costs will drop, and as laird, you need to marry.”
Boomer tightened his grip on Samantha as Kagen expounded on the young woman’s beauty and all the clan would gain from such an alliance. That Faolan kept quiet did not help him one bit.
When he felt Samantha begin to shift to break his hold, Boomer whispered in her ear, “This is the past, remember that. In less than two weeks, he marries you.”
Kagen continued, “You walked with the lass last night. Her father would never have allowed such a thing if he did nay find the arrangement suitable. What do you think of her?”
Water sloshed before Faolan replied. “She is l
ovely, sweet and young enough to learn the ways of our people. The lass has been raised to run a household, or so she said.”
“I dinna hear where ‘tis a foul match,” Kagen replied.
“She is nay who I want,” Faolan replied.
Kagen’s laughter filled the air. “I hope those are nay the words you whispered to her after you stole that kiss in the gardens.”
Boomer’s hand clamped over Sam’s mouth as Faolan laughed in reply.
“The lass is one many would wish to bed and find in that same bed night after night,” Faolan said.
“Then we should speak of accepting the arrangement.”
“No,” Faolan replied quickly. “I want Samantha, and you ken this.”
“You want a woman who works to leave this place and who denies you at every turn.”
Faolan’s soft but colorful cursing could be heard over the splashing in the water. “And yet I want her.”
Kagen laughed. “Then we will wait while you dance around the dark mountain in hopes of bedding the woman. If Samantha denies you or leaves, you have a willing lass waiting to be your wife, one who offers alliance, trade, and a sweet form to warm your bed.”
“If I agree, will you let the matter drop?” Faolan asked with too much levity for Boomer’s taste.
Samantha breathing was too loud with the presumed anger. Boomer held tight while the men continued their banter and finally left the loch to dress. Minutes ticked by before the horses rode for the village and the meal the men would share in Kagen’s cottage with his wife and child.
Only when Boomer could no longer hear a sound did he let her go. Samantha slid out of the rocky hiding spot and glared into the distance.
With the automatic weapon strapped on her back, she turned to face him. Fire shot from her eyes as she spoke. “After I tell him how much I missed him and kiss him senseless, I’m going to kill the son of a bitch.”
Without a word, Boomer took her hand and began the long walk back to the hut. He silently wondered if he should warn Faolan or let the man dig himself out from the mess alone. The decision came quickly: it was Faolan’s problem. The one who truly needed aid was Kagen. He had been a bit too aggressive in pushing his cousin to another woman. Samantha had been known to hold a grudge or two.
Breaking the silent walk, Boomer asked, “Are you going to name the baby after me?”
Samantha laughed and gazed up at him. “It might be a better choice than what I was just thinking. I wonder how son-of-asshole sounds in Gaelic?”
“Get down, Samantha,” Boomer chided as they hid in the trees on the eastern side of the gazing pastures. It was the day Samantha and Faolan rode through the same area on their first day off since their initial arrival. The early morning had been spent clearing out their supplies and making the hut appear lifeless.
“I want to see,” she said as she pushed the hand off her shoulder.
Even from the distance Boomer watched the pair on horseback stop before the hut. He already knew that version of Samantha would note the warmth of the previous night’s fire, though Boomer was impressed as Faolan took charge and made sure the hut was vacant and presented no threat to Samantha.
He glanced over at Sam as she watched Faolan lift another version of her, kiss her hair, and place her on the waiting horse. She was still pissed about the conversation overheard at the lake. Something told him the memory of the kissy-face in the glade would soften that a bit, not to mention the night that was to come.
Before he could tease her, a twig snapped from behind them. Both of them were on their feet to face what they immediately assumed were two of the dragon-priests’ scouts. The two young men were probably only teenagers and bore none of the tattoos visible on the warriors of the tribe. Instinct screamed to let the two pass given their age, but he knew that was a mistake. The last thing he needed were warriors tracking them down.
The choice was made when both scouts raised swords to attack. It was a short struggle and left him sick. Scouts were obviously chosen for their speed and not fighting ability. The two fell quickly.
Samantha pulled her dagger from the chest of one of the scouts and dropped to her knees to vomit.
With a hand on her back, he whispered, “I feel the same way about it.” When she rose on shaky legs, he offered, “Go back to the hut and put our stuff inside. I’ll get rid of them.”
She gave him a weak nod and pulled the first batch of their supplies out of the brush. Boomer watched her walk back across the field and turned his attention to the two dead bodies on the forest floor. Concern flooded him at Samantha’s reaction to the fight that normally would not have even broken a sweat. A battle was coming the next day, one they knew they were going to get caught up in.
He needed her strong and focused as they had no idea how many warriors to expect. Even with automatic weapons, weakness was not an option. Boomer sighed, and he dragged the bodies far from their camp. How am I supposed to keep her safe, protect her child, and survive this battle? His head shook away the doubt. He would because he loved her and always had her back.
“I can handle this, Boomer,” Samantha snapped at him while she buttoned up the jacket on her uniform.
Boomer glanced up as he tied the laces on his boot. “If you can’t, you’ll only be in the way. Get your ass up in a tree with a gun and cover my back.”
Dawn had come and gone, and mid-morning was upon them. The battle was about to begin, and time became unwritten. Guns were fired that day, and that’s all they knew. Boomer quickly decided he missed knowing what every day held and the tedium it delivered.
“My ass stays by your side, Sergeant,” Samantha replied with her hands on her hips.
Boomer rose to full height and glared down at her. “You puked yesterday, so don’t tell me you can handle it.”
“Well, I feel better today,” she snapped. Samantha pushed past him and paced in front of the hut. When he stood to block her motion, she looked up at him with less irritation on her face. “Honestly, I’m not queasy today.”
“I still like the idea of a tree.”
Her head shook in denial. “We have to think this through.”
He saw the moment she began to think and the distance her eyes held from the reality of the moment. Maybe she is up to this, he thought.
“If you were calling the attack on the keep, who would you send through the vacant pastures?” she asked.
“Final assault troops.” The answer was obvious and fit with standard battle protocols. Save the best for actual conquest.
“Exactly.” Samantha offered a nod for the correct answer. “In the village, we fought a squad with a leader, and the same was reported by Jeff and Faolan on their ends. No one ever claimed to take down the commander.”
A chill ran down Boomer’s spine at the notion. If the dragon-priests had a similar battle plan to a modern military, the troops headed their way would be the best and be led by the visionary who put the attack together. The fresh men would expect to face exhausted and depleted Draig warriors.
Samantha’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “How many rounds do we have?”
“Not enough.” There were six shots in his handgun, and the stolen semi-automatic weapons didn’t carry heavy battle ammunition, only enough for base security. Ammo was a precious commodity in their war-ravaged world. “Total, we have around seventy-five shots.”
“Then we hold our ground here in front of the hut and wait for them to come to us this afternoon. We shoot when the enemy is in close range.”
A scowl crossed his face at the plan, but there was no arguing the validity of it. All they had to do was wait and watch.
Like sentries, they walked back and forth with the weapons held in the ready position, scanning the tree line in the distance. Minutes dragged on to seem as hours, and the morning even
tually passed to afternoon. Swords clanging and men shouting could be heard in the distance. Even from where they were, the smell of burning wood filled the air.
They knew friends fought and could do nothing to aid them. Boomer had begun to wonder if Jeff was mistaken about hearing gunshots. No sign of additional forces, or even scouts, had been seen all day.
It was a shock when Samantha pulled him against the side of the hut. Her lips moved to say, “Three o’clock, incoming.”
Boomer shifted to peer behind the hut and caught sight of nearly twenty men walking through the trees. No battle formation and no alertness in their strides. Even with the quick glance, he caught sight of the tattoos that marked them as warrior-priests.
He caught her eyes and mouthed, “The one in the center.”
She nodded in silent agreement.
The man in the center was clearly the leader. In his hands, he carried a unique weapon. The massive sword was longer than the rest, and the man bore the vicious dragon symbol on his leather tunic and his skin. Boomer eyed the impressive weapon from the covering of the side of the hut. The sword might make a nice wedding present for Faolan, he decided.
No words were needed, and they both knew he was the one to be taken down first. The rest of the enemy’s forces had lost cohesion after their squad leader fell. They could only hope the same result would happen here.
Boomer waited until he could hear the sound of their footsteps on the dry ground. With a quick gesture to Samantha, he crouched and prepared to fire around the side of the hut. When Sam was also in the ready, she looked back to see him.
Her lips moved with no sound, “I have your back. On the count of three, we step out and take them down.” Her hand moved: one finger, two fingers, and when three fingers pointed down, Boomer jumped and fired.
Time of the Draig Page 32
