by B. J. Scott
“If you are an ancient and have the power you say, why can’t you just bring her back to this century, where she will be safe?”
“I can do many things, but interfering in Gwen’s destiny is na one of them. Now she has gone back, her life will proceed the way it would have if she’d never left. That is why I revealed myself to you, Kyle MacKay. Her fate was preordained but you can change things.”
Kyle gave his head a shake. “Let me see if I have this straight. Gwen was born in the past, grew up in the future, and has now gone back? How? Why?”
Beatha nodded. “I know it is difficult to understand now, but all will become clear in the past, if you decide to go after her. There are also things about your own life that will be uncovered as well,” she said. “If you are going to do this, we need to do it soon. The time when the veil closes between this world and the next will close come and it will be too late.”
“Will you be there when I arrive, to point me in the right direction?” Kyle was prepared to go if it would help Gwen, but once he got there he wasn’t sure what to do.
“I will try. Follow me and make haste.” Beatha headed into a small clearing, halting in the center of a ring formed by plant and rocks. “Stand here.”
Kyle did as the old woman requested, glanced at his surroundings, then at Beatha. “I never noticed this when I passed by here earlier.”
“That doesna surprise me. The ring only appears for those who believe and when needed.” She stepped away, leaving Kyle standing by himself. “Are you certain you want to make the journey?”
Still not convinced this woman was who she claimed to be, and unsure what to expect next, Kyle clenched his fists, drew in a deep breath, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
~ * ~
MacQuin Castle 1305
Before she had time to rethink her decision to go to Gower Castle, Gwen left Lilith’s chamber and went directly to the main floor of the keep, where Damen was waiting with four burly warriors she assumed were the men sent to escort her to her new home.
“I was about to come looking for you,” Damen said, then grabbed Gwen by the upper arm and presented her to the warriors. “My sister, Lady Gweneth.”
“We heard your father suffered a spell and isna well. Please accept our good wishes for his speedy recovery, m’lady.” One of the guards stepped forward and bowed.
“Thank you,” Damen said before she could answer, then thrust Gwen in their direction. “I know Laird Gower was expecting to wed my cousin Ainsley, but when my sister returned to the keep, we thought she would make a more suitable offering to seal our alliance. Hopefully, your laird will na be disappointed.” He didn’t bother to mention that upon hearing she was to marry Duncan Gower, his cousin ran off with her lover.
The guard studied Gwen from head to toe before he answered. “She’s a comely enough and I am sure my laird will accept the change. Rutting with one lass is the same as the next, and her only tasks will be to provide him with an heir and sate his lordship’s carnal needs.”
Gwen’s stomach did a quick flip when she heard the man’s words, but rather than show the fear and disgust she really felt, she inclined her chin and looked the guard in the eye. “Are you going to stand here talking or are we going to leave?” She fought to keep her voice from quivering when she spoke.
“She’s a feisty one and the laird will be pleased. I hear tell he enjoys a challenge beneath the pelts.” The guard chuckled.
“She’d best do our clan proud.” Damen glared at Gwen with a scowl that sent a shiver up her spine.
Mara entered the room and bobbed a curtsy. “Lady Lilith said Lady Gweneth was leaving for Gower castle and bid me go with her. She doesna think it proper for her daughter to be traveling alone with the Gower’s men. She also thought that Lady Gweneth might need me to serve her on the journey and at her new home.” She handed Gwen a canvas sack. “My mistress asked me to give you this.”
When Gwen peered into the bag, she saw a comb, two gowns, some slippers, and a night rail. The idea of Mara going along pleased her immensely. Having a friend during this stressful time would be a blessing, but her hopes were dashed when Damen addressed the maid.
“Lady Gweneth doesna require anyone to accompany her. I’m sure her new husband will provide her with servants as he sees fit. You will stay here and tend to my mother’s needs as you have always done.” After dealing with Mara, Damen returned his attention to the guards. “I trust these men will see my sister arrives at her new home safely and untouched. If I learn otherwise, they will answer to me.” He took a menacing step toward the guards. “Have I made myself clear?”
The head guard stepped forward. “You have my word. I will personally see to it. The lady may ride with me if she canna sit her own horse.”
Gwen spoke up before Damen could respond. “I have been riding on my own since I was old enough to walk, so I don’t need your help.” The thought of sitting atop a horse with one of these barbarians held no appeal, and at this moment, she was grateful she’d grown up on a horse ranch. “May I have a moment to say goodbye to Mara?”
“One minute, and make it fast,” Damen said, then spoke to the head guard. “Would you like a tankard of ale before you leave?”
Three of the men rushed forward, grinning, but halted when the head guard held up his hand and shot them a disparaging glance. “Nay. We appreciate your kindness, m’lord, but we’d best be on our way. I promised the laird we would return quickly, and if we wish to make it to the coast before nightfall, we’d be wise to keep our wits about us.”
While the men conversed, Gwen escorted Mara to the corner and out of Damen’s hearing. “Thank you for offering to come with me.” She pulled the maid into a quick embrace, then held her at arm’s length. “I appreciate the gesture and all you’ve done for me while I’ve been here. Take care of old Agnes and do what you can for the children. But please be careful.”
Mara wiped a tear from her cheek, her expression grim. “I canna believe you are being forced to marry the Gower. He has a horrible reputation of being a womanizing fiend.”
Accompanying these men was the last thing Gwen wanted to do—digging in her heels and refusing to go looked more appealing by the minute. The idea of being touched by a stranger, let alone married to one, was unfathomable, but after Damen’s threats to harm Lilith, she saw no other option but to comply with his demands. However, if he thought she would go through with the wedding once she arrived on the Orkneys, he was sorely mistaken. She just needed to come up with a plan.
“Dinna fret, Mara. With any luck I won’t have to marry him and will be back before you know it.”
Mara kept her voice low so only Gwen could hear what she had to say. “How will you stop it? Once Laird Gower takes you from the mainland, I doubt he will let you return. You’ll be stranded on the islands with no place to run. Can you na beg your brother to reconsider?”
Gwen glanced over her shoulder at Damen and immediately recalled the vow he made to find her if she ran and his threat to kill Lilith if she defied him. Given what she’d learned about the monster during her short stay at MacQuin Castle, she didn’t doubt for an instant he’d honor his word. Most likely he saw this as the perfect opportunity to get her out of the way, somewhere she could offer no threat to his identity, so he wasn’t about to change his mind. “Damen has spoken and, while the laird is ill, he is in charge of the clan. I have no choice but to go.”
“You’ve dallied long enough. It is time for you to leave,” Damen bellowed.
Gwen hugged Mara again and whispered in her ear. “Take care of yourself, and tell Lilith I said goodbye and to hurry.”
“Hurry, m’lady?” Mara looked puzzled.
“She’ll know what I mean.” Gwen released the maid and faced Damen. “I’m ready, let’s go.” She followed him to the door, then paused to take one more look around. If all went well and Lilith found Beatha in time, she might not be returning to MacQuin Castle, instead, going back to her own time. After c
ommitting the keep and the people she’d met to memory, she followed the guards out the door.
Chapter Ten
Scotland 1305
Kyle awakened with a pounding headache, nausea twisting his gut. He moaned and draped his forearm over his eyes, shading them from the sun’s blinding rays. Either what Beatha claimed was true and he’d traveled back in time, or he’d tied one on, imagined it all in a drunken stupor, and had the worst hangover of his life. However, if the latter was true, he wouldn’t be lying on his back in the middle of a clearing surrounded by forest.
As his vision cleared and his memory returned, he sat up and surveyed the area. Everything looked the same as it did before Beatha uttered the strange incantation and he crumpled to the ground and passed out. Yet a little voice inside his head told him there was something very different about this place. What’s more, Beatha was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is that old woman,” he grumbled as he rose to a wobbly stance. Having no idea how long he’d been out, Kyle checked his wrist, but in place of his Rolex was a leather gauntlet. He then patted his pants where his wallet and cell phone should be, but they were gone too, along with his pockets. Upon realizing that in addition to his missing belongings, his cable knit sweater and cargo pants had been replaced by what appeared to be medieval garb, he scratched his head.
“You dinna need those things here,” Beatha said as she emerged from the forest, leading a large black destrier.
“I suppose you’re a mind-reader too.” Kyle smoothed his hands down the front of a saffron tunic, covered in a chainmail vest. With the leather boots, additional chainmail coif, and a sword strapped to his hip, he was sure he must look like an extra in the movie Braveheart. “I don’t understand any of this,” he muttered and scrubbed his fingers across his beard-stubbled chin. “Where am I?”
“You’re still in Northern Scotland, but instead of 2017, you are in the year 1305,” Beatha said proudly. “It appears we arrived in the correct century.”
Kyle moved toward Beatha. “I’m relieved to hear that I’m where I’m supposed to be, but there is a lot more I need to know. Like how do I find Gwen?”
Beatha raised her hand. “I will answer all your questions in good time.”
“They say there’s no time like the present.” Kyle glanced down at his medieval attire. “Dare I ask what happened to my clothes and my other belongings?”
Beatha smiled. “You canna verra well wear your modern clothes in medieval times and expect to go unnoticed. Show your modern gadgets to anyone and you’ll surely be burned as a witch.” She closed her eyes and visibly shuddered, then passed him the reins. “You can ride, can you na?”
“Yes. I was the captain of my university polo team.” Kyle stared at the horse and then at Beatha. “He’s a magnificent animal, but where on earth did you get him?”
“You needed a mount and now you have one.” Beatha answered simply. “It matters na how I acquired him.”
“Then he is not yours, I take it. Don’t you think his owner might be a bit miffed to find him missing?”
“Miffed?” Her bow creased and a puzzled expression crossed her face.
“Upset. Angry,” Kyle said. “I don’t fancy getting arrested for being a horse thief when his owner reports he’s been taken.” He offered the reins back to her, but Beatha waved him off and took a step back.
“His owner willna be looking for him, nor will he report him stolen.” Beatha lowered her gaze. “I’m afraid he met with an unfortunate end.”
“What do you mean?” Kyle was very tired of being confused. He just wanted straight answers, to find Gwen, and return to the twenty-first century.
“It appears he stumbled into a camp of thieves, and after they stole his coin and bludgeoned him to death, they threw his body into a ravine, but na before the horse ran off.”
“I feel bad for the guy, but what does his getting mugged by thieves have to do with me or why I am here?”
“The man who died was Caol MacKay. He was on his way to his uncle’s castle, but sadly, dinna make it. However, his misfortune can work to your advantage. I found the horse grazing in a meadow, not far from where his owner met his end.”
“Caol MacKay?” Taken aback by what she’d just said, Kyle remembered how on occasion his grandmother called him Caol. When he asked why, she told him it was the Gaelic version of Kyle. Upon remembering that, he shot an inquisitive look in Beatha’s direction. “I suppose it’s no coincidence that his name is the same as mine?”
Beatha grinned. “I did tell you that in addition to helping Gweneth there were things you would learn about your own ancestry while on this quest?” She moved aside and motioned for him to mount. “Best you climb on. You’ve tarried here long enough, and there is much to do if you find Gweneth in time.”
He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “Scotland is a large country. Exactly where am I riding to? I have no idea where Gwen is or what sort of danger she is in. As far as that goes, I’m still not sure what she is even doing in this century to begin with. Until you explain further, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Verra well, I will tell you what you need to know.” Beatha exhaled a heavy breath, then peered up at him. “But I am old and these ancient bones are weary, do you mind if I rest a wee bit?” She hobbled over to a fallen tree and sat before Kyle could answer. “Sit beside me,” she said.
“No thanks, I’d rather stand.”
“Suit yourself.” She stroked her chin as if deep in thought, then glanced up at him. “I suppose I should start with Gweneth. She is na who you think she is.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Gweneth was raised in the twentieth century, but she wasna born during that time. She is from the past.”
“You said that before, but maybe you’re mistaken and have the wrong woman. My Gwen was born in Winchester, Virginia on Oct 31, 1993. Her parents are Wanda and Ross Lindsay, two of the most prominent people in town. She—”
“Your Gwen, as you call her, was born beneath the full moon on October 31, 1281. Her parents are Lilith and Ronald MacQuin,” Beatha interjected before Kyle could say any more. “After giving birth to her in a hut na far from here, her mother gave her to me and bid me protect her, to see she was raised somewhere safe, and by loving parents.”
“Why on earth would a woman give her child to a witch, knowing she would never see her again?”
“To save her bairn’s life,” she answered simply. “Her father demanded his wife give him a son, but she had a feeling the babe was a lass and went to a seer. She was told her suspicions were true and that the lass would be mistreated by her father until she was old enough to marry, then forced to wed a horrible man who would beat her and eventually kill her in a fit of rage.”
Kyle let out a low whistle, then scrubbed his chin. “And her mother believed that and decided it was better to give her up than see the prophecy come true?”
Beatha bobbed her head and smiled. “Exactly. I arranged for Gweneth to be sent forward in time and raised by carefully selected parents who were unable to conceive a child of their own. Fearing her husband’s wrath, Lady Lilith—her birth mother—could not go home empty-handed, so I also arranged for a changeling to take Gweneth’s place. This too was foretold to Lady Lilith by the seer. Upon the chieftain’s death, Damen will replace his father as laird, unless Gweneth gets in his way.”
The minute the old woman flashed him her toothless grin, Kyle had a suspicion there was a lot she still hadn’t told him. Now, he had to decide if what she had said was true, or if it was all part of her wild imagination. Among the tales of lore and superstitions he’d heard as a child, the fae and their offspring were a topic often spoken about in whispers.
“Slow down and take it back a bit. Aren’t changelings supposed to be evil fairy babies who wreak havoc and misfortune on a family when exchanged for their mortal child?” Everything he’d been told by Beatha was farfetched and hard to believe, but so was the fact that
he was standing in the middle of a field in Northern Scotland, wearing the attire of a medieval warrior and about to mount a destrier to who knew where.
“Aye, they are reputed to be evil, but Lady Lilith had no choice.” Beatha shrugged. “It was accept the changeling and pray he’d grow up to be a kind and decent man, or know her daughter would live a similar life to her own. The thought of her being mistreated by her father, then sold in marriage to a man who would brutalize, then kill her was something she couldna bear. It was a risk she was willing to take.”
Beatha spoke with such conviction, it was hard not to accept her story as true. “If Gwen was sent to the future for her protection, never to see her real parents again, why has she returned now?”
“Had she na been sent to the future, she would have been twenty-four summers when she died at the hand of her husband, but her destiny changed when she left this time period and Damen took her place. It was as if she never existed. Now she is back, things will be as they were destined to be, almost as if she had she never left.”
Kyle scratched his head. “I’m really confused. How can she just show up in 1305 and have no one wonder where she’s been all these years? I have always heard if you tamper with the past, it affects the future.”
“In this case, she is putting things back the way they were meant to be. The outcome affects only Gwen and those close to her,” Beatha explained, then hung her head and wrung her hands. “She wasna supposed to return. The only way she could do so was by stepping into the same fairy ring from which she was sent forward, on Samhain Eve. I thought the chances of that happening were gone when I sent her so far away. But I appear to have failed.”
“Hopefully, it’s not too late to make it right,” Kyle said. “But first we have to find her. Tell me where she is and what I must do.” There was no point in admitting he was still skeptical about what she was saying, but at this point, he saw no option but to take her word. Without her help, there was no hope of finding Gwen or returning to his own century.
He wished his grandmother was still alive to tell the tale to when it was all over. The fact their grandparents were born and raised in Highlands was a bond he and Gwen shared. He’d always planned to visit Scotland someday and explore his ancestral roots, but not like this.
