"All I want to do is go back to the dorm, get a bath and some decent clothes on and pretend none of this ever happened. So if you’re worried about me telling the cops anything, don’t. Just drop me at the nearest gas station or convenience store. I’ll find my own way back from there."
He said nothing for several moments. Finally, when he’d tossed her up onto the saddle again, he looked up at her curiously. "Ye’ve a crazed way of talkin’ lass. I dinna ken the half of wha’ ya just said."
Chloe stared at him, mentally translating. "You didn’t understand? Which half?"
He frowned, thinking it over. "Ya talk strange, lass. It’s as much the way ya say yer words that I’ve trouble with as it is wha’ yer sayin’."
"I can’t understand your accent either, so that makes two of us," she snapped irritably. "Look, I need a bathroom. Comprende? Understand?"
"Nay, I don’."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "I’ve got to pee!"
His lips twitched. "Ya might’ve just tol’ me."
She gave him a look. "So is there a bathroom around here, or not?"
He pulled her down from the horse again and led her a little way into the woods.
Chloe looked around blankly, then turned to him. "You expect me to do it here? In the woods?"
"Aye. Ya said ya had ta relieve yerself."
"I’m not squatting in the damned woods!"
His eyes narrowed. "Ya dinna have ta’, did ya?"
"I’ll hold it till we get to a bathroom."
"I’ve no notion wha’ this batroom is ya keep wantin’, but I’ll tell ya now I’ll nae be lettin’ ya slow me down with all this nonsense."
She glared at him, but she really did have to go and she wasn’t certain she could hold on to it if he was going to be bouncing her on that horse for very long. She made a shooing motion at him. His eyes narrowed. "You’re going to watch me?" she gasped, horrified and indignant at once.
"Aye. I’ve no mind to chase ya down again."
Glaring at him, she finally turned her back and squatted. "Pervert!" she muttered. She had a hell of a time with it. Strangely enough, she’d never noticed how difficult it was to aim it. No wonder men felt so smug about whipping it out and letting it fly. She fanned her thatch when she’d finished.
"What’er ya doin’ now?"
"Air drying it."
He stuck a handful of leaves and moss over her shoulder.
Chloe looked at it, then sent him an indignant glare. "This is part of the joke, right? You hand me poison oak to wipe my ass with and then laugh yourself silly while I scratch."
He chuckled. "It’s na poison oak, lass. I give ya my word."
She decided she’d air dried long enough. Ignoring his hand, she stood up, moved around him and marched back toward the horse. He caught her arm before she’d taken more than a couple of steps, escorting her.
Without a word, he caught her around the waist and lifted her up onto the saddle again, then climbed up behind her.
Neither of them said anything thereafter. Chloe had no desire to talk to him. She wished she could just put his odd behavior down to the fact that he was crazy. As dangerous as that possibility was, though, he didn’t actually act crazy … and what made her even more uneasy was that he thought she was crazy. She couldn’t make any sense out of it at all. On the one hand, she knew where she was. On the other, he seemed to know where he was. The problem, of course, was that he had to be wrong … except that nothing looked at all familiar to her.
She wasn’t a nature person. She’d never been in the woods unless she had the misfortune to break down somewhere, but she was still familiar with what the woods were supposed to look like. Mostly, it was pines. She’d seen patches of older woods that had big trees in it, some kind of oaks, but no where near where she’d been when she went into the woods.
Weirdly enough, these woods just didn’t feel right.
Sean jerked her out of her abstraction when he pulled the horse to an abrupt stop and began cursing in some language completely alien to her. She didn’t have to understand the language, though. She could tell from his face that he was cursing. Sensing her gaze, he looked down at her. "Ya still claim ya’d no notion of trickin’ me?"
Chloe felt her jaw drop. After a moment, she turned to peer around the horse’s head to see what he’d seen. A coldness swept through her. Her eyes widened with horror. "Are they … are they … that’s not really dead people, is it? I mean, this is staged. That’s not real blood … not … pieces of bodies, is it?"
Sean’s face was grim. After a moment, he climbed down. Holding the reins, he led the horse to a tree and tied it. After staring at her for several moments, he pulled a strip of leather from his pouch, took her hands and wound the leather around her wrists, and then the pommel of the saddle, all while Chloe merely gaped at him in stunned surprise.
She watched him while he moved around the small clearing, squatting to check each body, studying it over for several moments and then moving on to the next. Chloe found her brain didn’t seem to be functioning at all. She watched him. She saw every little detail of the gruesome scene, but her eyes merely recorded what she was seeing.
Two of the men he turned over were wearing the same thing he was wearing … exactly the same from what she could see--a length of the same fabric wrapped around their waists and secured with a wide leather belt.
The other three men that lay in their path were wearing the skirt things too, but the fabric was different. Sean stood finally and turned to study her assessingly. "These are my kinsmen, Brian and Angus. Those three there-- they’re Kincaids."
Chloe followed the direction of his pointing finger, then looked at him again. She licked her lips. "It’s dummies, right?"
"Fools, ya mean? Ya think them fools for fallin’ for the Monroe trap? Which ya helped to set, ya heartless baggage."
Chloe blinked rapidly as the words were fired at her like bullets. "I didn’t have anything to do with this!" she gasped.
He strode toward her. Her eyes widened with each step until they felt like they were bulging out of her head. She ducked when she saw his hand coming toward her, squeezing her eyes shut. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes a crack and peered at him. To her relief, she saw he’d only reached for the pommel.
She really didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Her chin wobbled. "It really is … that’s … those men are dead?"
Chapter Four
"Aye," Sean said grimly.
"Oh God! There’s a maniac running loose! You didn’t. It wasn’t you that hacked them up with that big knife of yours, was it?"
Anger darkened his brow. "My sword? Ye’re sayin’ I did this? Killed my own kinsman?"
"Well, it sure as hell wasn’t me! And I haven’t seen anybody else," Chloe wailed.
He looked so furious for several moments that she thought he was going to choke the life out of her. Finally, however, his anger seemed to dissipate. He turned and looked the scene over again. Leaving her, he moved around the clearing again, studying the ground, then stepped into the woods. The minute he vanished, Chloe scooted back on the saddle and bent her head, tearing at the leather tie with her teeth. It seemed, though, that the more she pulled on it, the tighter it got. She hadn’t even managed to loosen it when she heard the sharp crack of a breaking branch and looked up.
Sean had stepped from the woods again. His expression was more confused now than angry, but Chloe wasn’t fooled. The man was crazy. There wasn’t a bit of telling what would make him lose his cool--but every other word out of her mouth seemed to have that effect on him.
He was so different that he had been before! She couldn’t assimilate the change in him.
She was still sniffling when he climbed up on the horse and kicked it into motion once more. He hadn’t untied her hands. She couldn’t even wipe her nose. After she’d rubbed her cheeks on her shoulder a couple of times, he let out an impatient breath and stopped the horse long enough to untie her.
Her hands were numb. She slung them a few times, trying to get circulation back into them and then grabbed the tail of the shirt and wiped her face. It was disgusting, having to dry her nose on the clothes she had to wear and it made her feel like crying all over again. That thought, though, was enough to dry the tears of fright.
He had one arm around her. She knew it was only because he thought she’d try to get away again. Moreover, she was as scared of him as she was of whoever it might be out there that had hacked those men to pieces. She needed comforting, though, and he was the only one handy. Shrugging mentally, she turned around and snuggled tightly against him. He stiffened, but he didn’t push her away. That was close enough to an invitation as far as she was concerned.
He was warm, and she needed warm right now. The scent of horse wafted past her nostrils, but she was pretty sure they both smelled like horse by now and in any case, it wasn’t unpleasant. He also smelled of damp wool, from the cloth he was wearing, which wasn’t quite as pleasant as the scent of horse. She moved her face away from the wool and breathed in the scent that was purely Sean. It sent a sensation of comfort through her.
He’d been really angry with her ever since he’d found out her last name was Monroe. That was pretty bizarre in her book--but he’d been sweet before. She supposed she was still associating with his other personality. This Jekyll/Hyde thing he had going on was probably the most unnerving thing that had happened up until they’d found dead bodies.
"Where are we going now?"
"The castle."
"The one close to the interstate?" she asked, suddenly interested. She was embarrassed almost immediately, because, really, she shouldn’t be thinking about food at a time like this, but she thought a hamburger and fries would help her feelings a lot.
"Frazier castle."
"Oh," she said, disappointed. "I thought you were talking about White Castle. I know it sounds really insensitive to be thinking about my stomach right now, but I can’t help it. I was supposed to have a date tonight and I skipped lunch so I could fit into my favorite jeans--because they’re just a little tight right now--and I’ve got a feeling I’m going to miss my date, too--Not that I like the guy or anything. It was supposed to be our first date and I don’t really know him that well yet--but I hate standing someone up when I told them I’d go out."
He was frowning when she looked up at him. "Ya were to dine with a man this eve?"
"Uh … yeah. At least, I thought he might take me out to eat."
"What is this man’s name?"
"Richard Kennedy--No relation to the Kennedys."
"Who?"
Chloe blinked. "Don’t tell me you know him. Terrie said he was a nice guy."
"He’s a Kennedy? An Irishman?"
Chloe gaped at him. "What is this thing you have about names, anyway?"
He frowned. "It makes no sense ta ally themselves with Kennedys," he muttered to himself. "Unless…."
Chloe studied him over and carefully disentangled herself, putting as much distance between them as possible. "Paranoid delusions," she muttered.
He looked her over suspiciously but apparently decided not to challenge the remark. "What I dinna ken is what Brian and Angus were doin’ here ta start with. They’ve no business here at all."
Chloe sniffed. "Any time somebody’s not where they’re supposed to be, it’s usually because they’re up to something they shouldn’t be."
His eyes narrowed. "Ye’re suggestin’ my own kinsmen betrayed me? That this was some sort of trap that went awry?"
"You suggested I did, and I don’t even know you! Why does it seem more believable that somebody you don’t know, who doesn’t know you, would set a trap for you?"
He frowned, apparently thinking it over. "As it happens, lass, Brian and Angus were very much against an alliance with the Kincaids. Mayhap there’s somethin’ ta what ye’re sayin’ after all."
Chloe felt a tiny spark of relief. He didn’t sound completely unreasonable. "I’d talk to their friends, if I was you. I’ll bet somebody else was in on it, or at least had an idea that they were up to something. On the other hand, if they’re related to you, maybe it wasn’t them at all. They might have decided to watch your back and came to help, but when you were late showing up the Kincaids jumped them."
"The Kincaids are dead, lass."
"Oh. There were only three of them? Why would you figure they’d be any help if there were only three of them?"
He fell silent, obviously trying to piece the puzzle together, and Chloe relaxed and returned her thoughts to her own problem, wondering if he would let her go once they reached this castle he’d referred to. Try though she might, she couldn’t think of anybody ever mentioning a castle, or anything referred to as a castle anywhere in the area--except the White Castle and apparently that wasn’t where she was headed.
Not that it mattered. She’d left her purse in the car. Even if she had her clothes, which she didn’t, she wouldn’t have had a cent to call a cab. Of course, if there was a phone, she could call Terrie.
She’d been staring blankly at the scene before her for several minutes before her brain finally kicked in and started analyzing what she was looking at. The horse had topped a rise. Before them were fields, a river or a good sized lake--she could see water--and in the middle of it all was a--castle.
"Are they filming a movie around here?"
He said nothing and after a moment, she dragged her gaze from the scene before her and looked up at Sean. He was studying her, a puzzled look on his face. "I’ve no notion what ye’re talkin’ about, lass."
"That--It’s a set, right?"
"Set o’ what?"
Chloe dropped the subject and turned to study the ‘set’ as they moved closer. It looked like something out of a Mel Gibson movie she’d seen parts of--She hadn’t watched the whole thing, because it had been really gory and violent and everybody had told her it had a horrible end.
Maybe they were filming a sequel?
In Georgia? Right!
She stared at the people who turned to stare at her as they passed. Several of the men looked her over knowingly and grinned, displaying the worst dental hygiene she’d ever seen in her life. She peered at them, wondering if they’d blacked their teeth. Sean’s grip tightened warningly, though, and she settled back.
The stench was almost overwhelming. Animals were running loose all over the place, leaving droppings behind. Somehow, she found it really hard to believe they went for quite this much realism on set.
She didn’t want to insult anybody, but the smells were giving her a headache. Surreptitiously, she covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of Sean’s shirt. Up close, she saw that the castle wasn’t much more than a jumble of stones. In places, it had the look of new construction. In others, it looked as if it had been knocked down.
The roof of the structure was thatch.
When Sean dismounted at last, tossed his reins to a child and lifted her from the horse, a paralyzing sense of fear nearly overwhelmed her.
She’d been trying very hard not to accept anything that she’d seen, or anything that Sean had told her, but she knew there were a very limited number of explanations for everything that had happened.
Either she’d bumped her head and scrambled her brains and, even now, she was lying in a hospital bed dreaming wild dreams because of the medication they were giving her.
Everybody in the world had gone stark raving mad.
Or she wasn’t in 21st century Georgia anymore.
She was in medieval Scotland.
She should’ve known better than to make a wish! Hadn’t life already taught her that everything always went awry every time she gave in to her impulse to do something?
Chapter Five
The inside of the castle didn’t look a lot different than the outside, except darker. It smelled about the same, and there were animals running around inside, too. A few crude pieces of furniture were scattered around, mostly tables and benches.
>
There were weeds on the floor. Chloe couldn’t tell whether the floor was packed dirt, or if there was just so much dirt mixed in that it looked at way.
There were also a lot of really rough looking men, with long hair, many of them with long, gnarled beards. The women didn’t look a lot better. In fact, it was a few moments before Chloe even realized that it was women moving around the big room carrying food.
The men stood as they entered, surging forward, talking loudly and excitedly in that language she’d heard Sean speak when he was excited. She edged a little closer to Sean and he looked down at her, frowned, and finally led her to a set of stairs.
The stairs had no railing and Chloe couldn’t get her mind off of the steps, and the precipice at the edge of them, long enough to wonder where they were going until they reached the top. On the second floor, there was a short hallway. Sean led her to the last door, opened it and shoved her inside.
Chloe blinked at him, more frightened even than she had been before it had occurred to her to wonder if there was any possibility at all that she was right and she’d somehow leapt through time and space into the twilight zone. Sean as an escaped mental patient was scary. Sean Frazier of the medieval Scottish clan was terrifying.
Could it possibly get any worse?
She had a bad feeling that it could.
She’d never been much for history. What she knew about ancient European history probably wouldn’t fill a shot glass.
But she knew her penchant for trouble. If she really was in medieval Scotland, the chances were excellent that she’d arrived just in time for some major war. The worst of it was that she was even worse about dates than she was about the particulars of history. Even if she could find out what year it was, it wouldn’t do her any good.
"Ye’re to stay here until I decide what to do with ya."
The Fairy Ring Page 3
