by Jane Stain
Tavish rapped on the door.
“Hey ho, the weaver shop.”
The door banged open and four well-dressed blond children greeted them with laughter while they chided and tickled and poked each other, all the while running about in circles and finally down the lane.
Tavish, Seumas, and Kelsey went inside the shop, where they saw a grey haired woman weaver at her loom, a blonde woman about their age working wet strands of the flax plant into threads, and two men who were probably the women’s husbands, one gray-haired and one blond, pounding on soaking flax plants to separate them into strands. They were all weavers, so of course all their clothes were finely made and new. Verra respectable, Tavish noted with satisfaction.
The blond woman working the wet strands set them down and came to the door with a question in her brown eyes.
“What can I dae to help ye?”
“It is we who will be helping ye. Kelsey has come to apprentice.”
The woman looked Kelsey up and down.
“A bit old for an apprentice, be ye not?”
Tavish gave Kelsey a grudging nod, because her story made more sense now. To support it, he put his arm around her in comfort.
“My clanswoman has lost her husband and seeks some distraction these weeks while she is here tae visit me.”
The woman gave Kelsey a comforting smile and reached for her hand, which Kelsey slowly gave her while looking back at Tavish with near panic in her eyes. The woman led Kelsey over to her work.
“We could use the help. I’ll show ye how tae separate the strands.”
“See ye at supper, Kel.”
And with that, Tavish quickly walked off, before Kelsey could introduce anymore awkward conversation.
Seumas was still there, though.
“Your clanswoman is a pretty one.”
“Aye.”
“Mind if I—“
Tavish turned toward his sparring partner.
“Ye had better not.”
The kilted warrior grinned at him.
“If yer wanting tae mak some time with her, then whyever did ye put her in with the weavers?”
“I am na wanting tae mak time with her.”
The huge red-haired highlander laughed and clapped him on the back, hard.
“Ye can fool yerself, MacGregor, but ye will na fool me.”
“I am na fooling myself. I did na want her tae come here, but now that she’s here, ’tis my duty to protect her. She’ll be safe with the weavers. And they’ll keep her busit.”
But Seumas kept laughing and patting Tavish’s back.
“Ye mark my words, MacGregor. Ye will be sorry they keep her sae busit.”
Ochd
“Glad tae know ye, Kelsey. I’m Eileen.”
Kelsey tried not to have a sour face. It wasn’t Eileen’s fault Tavish had dumped her in this thirteenth century sweatshop. Maybe if she just left this room, she could catch up with him, and… No, the stubborn arse would just bring her back here.
“Hello,” she said to Eileen as brightly as she could. “It looks like ye need a lot of help.”
The blonde woman’s brown eyes lit up with a smile, and she bent over a bit in laughter.
“Aye, and this weaving is na the half of it. Ye saw my wild ones just now, running oot.”
Eileen had a warm manner, and soon Kelsey was doing her best to help the woman.
The work didn’t demand very much mental activity at all though, so while she worked, Kelsey considered her options. Chasing after Tavish was out, but just leaving and going back into the underground castle? No, if Seumas was down there, then other people might be down there, and while they might know Tavish, she was a stranger. Who knew what they might do to her.
But Eileen was understandably curious and asked questions as the two of them combed flax into thread.
“I’m sorry about yer husband. Were ye married long, and hae ye wee ones?”
Kelsey pretended it was Tavish she was being asked about, and answered with details of their prior relationship. She’d had other boyfriends, but if she was honest with herself, he was the only one who… She didn’t let herself think about that.
“We were together four verra good years filled with love and laughter, and nay, no children.”
“Aw, sad I am for ye on both counts, from the loss of yer husband to the lack of children.”
Lack of children was the least of it. Now that she knew why Tavish had disappeared, her feelings were even more hurt than they had been freshman year at college.
A lump formed in Kelsey’s throat as she looked around at the intact stone walls of their castleyard stall, the chinks freshly reinforced against the wind with wet straw, the amazing loom busy weaving a plaid.
If she had been the one to time travel instead of Tavish, she would have shared this with him. He’d known how fascinated she was with the past and how much she would’ve loved to be involved with this sooner. Obviously he didn’t… no, obviously he hadn’t felt the same way about her.
But she gave Eileen her bravest face.
“Dinna fash for me.”
Eileen gave her a kind smile, and then her eyes grew full of mischief.
“I see that yer clan man is fond of ye.”
Huh? Kelsey searched Eileen’s eyes for sties, or glaucoma, or cataracts. Hm. They seemed to be clear and unimpeded.
“Ye think Tavish is interestit in me? It does na seem sae tae me. After all, he dumpit me here and ran off tae hae fun with his friend.”
Eileen laughed hard at that.
“He did na run off tae hae fun.”
“Aye, he did. He and Seumas were talking aboot sparring with their swords.”
“Ye haven’t spent any time at a castle, have ye?”
“Nay, does it show, then?”
The weaver bit her knuckle, apparently to keep from laughing anymore at Kelsey’s expense.
“Aye, it does, for this whole place is naught but a fancy barracks for soldiers, ye ken. They spar most of ivery day sae that they can fight when they’re needed, or else the laird does na feed them.”
“I thank ye for the explanation. I sort of wonderit about all the shapely men wandering aboot with swords.”
Eileen must have been disposed toward laughing, for she did it some more, and it didn’t seem to take much effort. Kelsey also noticed that one of the male weavers kept eyeing Eileen and talking about her to the other.
But Eileen’s brown eyes were still full of mischief.
“Nay, I dae think Tavish is sweet on ye. Protective. I did see the way he lookit aboot the shop in an attempt tae suss oot any trouble that might be lingering, before he left ye here. He is na a relative, is he.”
It wasn’t a question, but Kelsey answered it anyway. Semi honestly.
“Nah, he is na, and we playit kissing games when we were children. But even if he’s not off having fun, he’s off me, and has been for years.” She’d had enough of this line of questioning, and she remembered something about how the best defense is a strong offense, so Kelsey lowered her voice and leaned in toward Eileen, squinting her eyes conspiratorially. “So I guess that’s yer husband ower thare?”
Eileen leaned in too, but her jaw dropped, and she quickly dipped her chin so that she was looking at Kelsey almost through her own forehead.
“Fergus? Nay, my own husband did pass six months ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry for yer loss an all. I just thought from the way he was looking at ye that the twa o ye were marriit. I’d say he thinks ye are headit that way.”
Good, Eileen blushed. Now to keep her on the defense so she would quit making Kelsey think of things that she could only regret thinking about. Expensive notions, when it came to getting her feelings hurt. Again.
Kelsey gave the weaver woman an appraising look. Eileen’s clothes were modest, of course. Everyone knew that was just the way things were back in this time. Women couldn’t seem too forward or they would be mistaken for whores, much more so than in modern t
imes. But Eileen was attractive, an eight without trying, who could be a nine if she put in some effort.
“Yer een are still free o wrinkles, Eileen. Ye can dae better than Fergus. Don’t ye think ye should try?”
Eileen’s attractive face scrunched up. Yeah, Eileen was way better looking than Kelsey herself. If she scrunched her face up like that, she would just look ugly. On Eileen it was cute and made Kelsey want to help her. The woman didn’t appreciate her own beauty.
“Better?” said the weaver, “How dae ye mean?”
“I mean, you’re a craftswoman, and there’s no shame in that, but isn’t there a single man who has more status than a weaver does, and who you have a chance with?”
Eileen discreetly looked over at Fergus and then back at Kelsey. She still kept her voice low.
“Aye, there is.”
“A man who ye like and who might like ye?”
Eileen not only stopped working, but also took a strand of her blonde hair and started twirling it around her finger.
“Hmmmmm.”
The way the woman hummed made Kelsey’s cheeks ache with a smile. She made a conscious effort not to laugh and attract the attention of the men.
“I thought sae. Now when’s the neist time ye are gaun'ae see him?”
“This evening at supper, I suppose.”
“How aboot if ye pinch yer cheeks an crush some berries tae put on yer lips, put on yer finest clothes, an make some conversation with him?”
Eileen quit twirling her hair and got back to combing the flax into thread.
“I don’t really have anything in common with him, Kelsey.”
“Of course ye dae.”
Eileen stopped working again and put her hands on her hips.
“Verra well, if ye know sae much, what could we possibly hae in common?”
Kelsey met Eileen’s eyes and very pointedly looked at Fergus and then at their flax work and started working again, waiting for Eileen to start again too. And giving her time to think of an answer.
The weaver paused only a few moments before she nodded and started work again, but it was enough. Inspiration struck Kelsey.
“Ye both live here in this marvelous castle town, do ye not?”
Eileen nodded at her, putting more effort into the work as she spoke.
“Aye, we do, but everyone here does, sae that doesn’t give us any special connection.”
Kelsey met Eileen’s eyes and tsked.
“But it does give ye things tae talk aboot: the weather, if naught else, but ye also know all the same people and see all the same merchants and ships, eat the same foods, have heard the same stories growing up, and the same rumors. Ye have all things in common, really. I envy you. My parents and I movit tae a new town when I was fourteen, and I had tae start all ower again with people who did na hae a thing in common with me at all, not even the weather. If it had na been for Tavish…” Ugh. She had done it to herself this time. She needed to get off that topic posthaste. “Sae aye, ye can speak with this more successful man.” There. She’d made a good case for Eileen to step out and make something of herself.
But the weaver seemed to know a bit herself, about a good offense.
“Ye movit tae a new place ootside o a castle with juist yer parents and no yer whole clan? Thare has tae be a tale in that.”
Now Kelsey had done it. Put her foot squarely in her mouth. For a moment, she considered toppling something so the men would come over. But it was going to be a long day, and there was no way Eileen would let this go.
“It is na much of a tale, for sooth. Da took work with a… merchant. He’s good at… selling things. Soon, everyone in our clan’s area had the merchant’s goods, but Da enjoyit the money he made doing this work. When the merchant offerit him the same work in another place—and also offerit tae pay sae Da and his family could move there—Da acceptit.”
Eileen smiled at her sympathetically.
“So ye left all that ye knew. And ye were fourteen? And then ye met Tavish?”
Kelsey gave her new friend an exasperated smile.
“Aye, now can we stop making all things be aboot Tavish?”
Eileen’s smile turned mischievous again.
“I daresay that for ye, all things already are aboot him.”
And round and round they went, but it passed the time. Meanwhile, for the first half of her workday, Kelsey meant to kill Tavish when he came to see her for supper. He had dragged her out of an underground castle—incredible, marvelous, and secret—in order to dump her in the weaver shop and make her work all day? And it was hard, boring work. She’d had no idea linen was so difficult to make in pre-industrial times.
But after a late morning break for bangers and mash, the scholar in Kelsey started to appreciate what an opportunity this was.
By the decorative patterns Eileen’s coworker was weaving into the linen, Kelsey knew this was the 13th century. Her eyes began to drink in all the details of the weaver shop, from the construction of the loom to the way the people dressed and even the game the children played in the corner during their short breaks from helping with the work—one sort of like jacks but with little stones.
Kelsey asked and was told where to go relieve herself, and once she had privacy, she put her phone in the hanging cradle of one of her huge linen sleeves and cut a hole in the linen next to it, just big enough for the camera lens. By crossing her arms just so, she could look natural while using it.
She carefully snapped about a hundred photos on her short walk from the privy back to the weaver’s shop—mostly of the intact castle and its courtyard, but also of the way people were dressed and their various weapons. She could blow the pictures up on her computer once she got home, and hopefully see all the fine details of craftsmanship.
When she got back inside the shop, she snapped one of the loom and the way the woman who worked it was sitting at it. And then she turned her phone off to save the battery and got back to her hard, boring work.
After an early afternoon break—for more bangers and mash—she started to worry. What if something happened to Tavish? Would she be stuck here for the rest of her life?
Her mind went back to Brian. Could he help her? He’d implied that he wasn’t able to time travel himself, but that he knew others who could…
But Brian was an unknown. She didn’t know if she could trust him. Tavish was a safer bet, and it sounded like his time traveling ability was dependent on whoever ‘they’ were. And ‘they’ wanted that artifact. So shouldn’t she be looking for it, not wasting time here in this shop?
~*~
It was getting dark when Tavish finally came in the door to get her for supper. Anxious to have a word with him, she dropped her work, jumped up, and rushed to meet him at the door. But she was puzzled when he wouldn’t lock arms with her when she offered. He just scooped up her leather backpack and headed out the door.
She rushed to keep up with him.
“So do we eat dinner in the castle? Where am I going to sleep? Will I get my own room, or do I have to bunk with others?”
He kept quiet until he had walked them the long way out of the castle wall and up a barren hill, where no one was around. When he stopped and turned to look at her, there was fear in his eyes.
“What do you mean to do with all the pictures you took today?”
She couldn’t ever remember seeing him afraid before.
“No one noticed I was taking them, Tavish. I mean, I guess you saw me, but no one else knows what a phone is, so they don’t know I did it.”
He grimaced and looked away for a moment. When he turned back to her, the fear was gone, replaced by… determination. He spoke softly, so that she had to strain to hear.
“Let’s assume for right now that they didn’t notice.”
“They didn’t.”
He put his hand out in front of him palm down and lowered it toward the ground.
“Fine. Given the best scenario where no one here knows anything is amiss, yo
u do understand that once we get home, you can’t post those photos online for your university colleagues to see, don’t you?”
Really? Here they were back in the thirteenth century, and he was worried about her posting photos online when they got back home?
“Come on, Tavish. I know that.”
He looked her in the eye then, beseeching her with his deep brown eyes.
“Are you sure?”
She let herself get lost in his eyes for so long, he finally raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Oh yeah, their conversation.
“Of course I’m sure. Come on, why do you think I’m so stupid?”
He pursed his perfectly shaped, manly lips.
“Because you were awfully insistent about posting the photos you took of the client’s property back in our time, and I doubt very much he wants that.”
She nodded to the side and threw her hand up a little bit.
“Okay. You have a point.”
He grabbed both of her upper arms and drew her toward him, causing a different kind of goosebumps to run all the way down to her toes.
“This isn’t the debate team, Kelsey. This could be the death of us. Do you see that now?”
“Tavish, yes, I do, okay?”
“So what are you going to do with these pictures?”
“I just want to have them for my own knowledge.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“And isn’t your phone one of those android phones that automatically upload to Google Pictures?”
“Yeah, but no one can see my Google Pictures unless I share them.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Kel, make darn sure, okay?”
“Right now?”
He looked around.
“No, not here out in the open. Let’s go sit on the grass between those rocks.”
Once they were seated side by side, he took out another drawing he had in his sporran and held it in his lap where they could both look at it. She used their tableaux as lookers at a drawing as a cover for playing with her phone.
“Okay. Now I’m 100% sure that my camera won’t upload these to Google Pictures.”
“Good. Now let’s just pray that no one did notice you taking them.”
