Highland Games Through Time

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “Tell me all that has happened since—”

  “Since yer disappearance?”

  “Aye.”

  “Rumors, non-truths, and myths have spread through the Highlands. Some thought ye had perished by jumping from yer late husband’s tower. Others said bandits were holding ye for ransom.” Marcus led her back up the stairs, his palm against the small of her back, “Kirk was adamant he had to find ye and bring ye home.”

  “The sorcerer was behind my plight. I barely escaped with my neck after the dragon attacked me. I swear he shall die by my hand, before I allow any more of my family to come to harm.”

  “Over my dead body!”

  Skye turned back toward the stairs. A very angry blacksmith strode toward her, two steps at a time. What had he heard?

  ***

  Jake’s fingers ached to strangle her. Skye’s mouth opened wide, but she said not a word more. How dare she say aloud something so horrible? Especially when he had already vowed to kill anyone who hurt her ever again.

  I saw her wounds.

  She had told him about a dragon, but he hadn’t believed her. The mention of the sorcerer brought him back to reality. Hadn’t he witnessed the sorcerer’s work during his last visit? The dead guard, his kidnapped friend, and the Highlanders planning a war?

  He’d left the men around the war table against his will. Skye and her witchcraft had sent him home. Cameron knew what she’d done. Had he told the others? Or, did some still believe he’d run out on them before the battle?

  If I’m lucky, they’ll order me sent home again.

  Marcus hadn’t said anything derogatory. He had remembered him by name, so that was a plus. They stood in a half-circle next to Lady Fia. Even pregnant, the young woman was a beauty.

  How would Skye look carrying my child?

  “What ‘tis wrong with ye? Ye have a dreamy look upon yer face,” Skye said. Her voice was steady and womanly, but he read the uneasiness in her eyes. Years ago, she was so young, but she managed to get him to agree to help save Haven. She barely spoke to him, back then, but had gotten his attention when she wanted something from him. He also recalled her vow to kill the sorcerer.

  “Are ye thinking about yer dear, sweet Jenny?”

  “Cut it out, Skye. She’s a friend.” He tamped down his reaction to her words, and bowed to Lady Fia.

  “Jake, I am pleased ye have…returned to us,” Fia glanced over his shoulder, “but I fear yer friend has earned the wrath of my husband.”

  Jake spun and couldn’t believe his eyes. Bull was already in trouble. Marcus’ armed men surrounded him and several had drawn swords from their sheaths. Bull faced a dozen men nearly as big as him.

  Jake sighed, then trudged down the stairs and over to the circle of armed men. Bull glanced from him, then back to the swords. His friend stood like a statue.

  Smart man.

  “Okay, guys, let the newbie breathe,” he said as he pushed passed two guards, then smacked Bull on the back.

  “Thanks,” Bull whispered.

  Jake smiled up at the taller man, and led him past the guards and up the steps.

  “Halt!”

  Both men stopped as Marcus strode down the steps. He reached them, with his fist on the hilt of his sword at his side.

  “That’s a good sign,” Jake whispered to Bull. If he meant them harm he would have pulled his weapon and pointed it at their chests.

  “I was going to introduce my friend to your lovely wife.”

  “Aye, I assumed so. Give me a chance to share this moment.”

  Bull looked stricken. For a man of his size, who towered over Marcus and Jake, he was unusually quiet. When Marcus turned and mounted the steps, they followed. Marcus strode over to his petite wife, and kissed her cheek.

  Jake smiled, introducing his unusually quiet friend to Lady Fia.

  Fia giggled, stroked her husband’s cheek, and turned to enter the castle.

  “Ye promised me some food, ye recall,” Skye said as Fia disappeared, “and a bed.”

  Marcus turned and glared at Skye. Skye returned his gaze with a saucy smile. Why couldn’t she look at him that way? As jealousy reared its ugly head again, Jake followed Marcus into the castle.

  Bull followed, muttering beneath his breath.

  Marcus and Skye entered the great hall. Fia was well ahead of them, heading toward the dais. Skye whispered in the laird’s ear. When Marcus wrapped his arms around her, and leaned toward her face, a growl echoed off the high ceiling.

  “Get your paws off her,” Bull yelled, pushing past Jake.

  Marcus shoved Skye toward the wall at his side. Unsheathing his sword, he turned in one fluid, terrifying motion. Baring his teeth, he howled a blood-thirsty cry. Marcus was a sixteenth-century warrior to the bone, and Bull had made him angry.

  “Bull,” Jake said, pulling his friend back a few steps, “it’s not like that. They’re good friends.”

  Bull’s grimace softened, and his fists unclenched. Marcus lowered his weapon, and straightened from his warrior’s stance. Jake’s words appeared to have eased the tension.

  Shrugging free, Bull stepped back. Marcus sheathed his weapon, glared at Jake’s friend, and continued into the great room. Bull turned on his heel and headed out the door. Jake followed, watching him descend the steps two at a time. Grumbling, Bull returned to his horse, grabbing the reins from a small boy. Jake sighed. Keeping the peace in a castle filled with Highland warriors was a position he’d rather not fill.

  He turned and, retracing his steps, found Skye leaning against the stone wall, rubbing her shoulder. Had Marcus hurt her when he shoved her out of the way? Clenching his hands into fists, he pressed his lips into a thin line. His expression must have caught her attention.

  Skye stopped rubbing her shoulder, pushed away from the wall, and stepped inches from his chest. She gazed up into his face, her coal black eyelashes fluttering.

  “Are you flirting with me?” Jake asked.

  Without waiting for a response, he pulled her around the corner, out of sight of the people in the great room.

  “What—?”

  Jake answered her question with a kiss. He pressed his lips against hers until she opened for him. She didn’t resist, and he took advantage by slipping his tongue inside. He feasted on her, his hunger surprising him. She tasted sweet, with an underlying tartness that made him wrap his arms around her tiny waist. His reaction to the kiss puzzled and annoyed him.

  He had no right touching her. Wanting to keep her safe, he managed to screw up even that task. He should never have taken her horseback riding, but Faerie Falls was a romantic place and he wanted to share it with her.

  Romantic? Why had he taken her, of all people? Why? Because her lips were soft, and irresistible. Warm, like summer rain upon his tongue. She was so small, but definitely a handful of squirming, squealing…Oh, oh.

  “Release me,” Skye said, pushing at his chest, “someone approaches.”

  The approaching footsteps broke the spell, and they stepped away from each other moments before two serving women scurried toward the great hall.

  “Why did ye kiss me?”

  “Why not?”

  She glanced toward the great hall, then back at him. His shoulders bunched and he wanted nothing more than to escape out of the castle.

  “Be calm, Jake. ‘Tis a different world ye have fallen into.”

  “You can say that again.”

  Skye’s gaze lowered. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her pretty little head. She planned to lie to him. Or distract him.

  “Bull is an honorable man. He thought to protect me. Best ye bring him into the fold. We can use such a warrior.” Her gaze drifted back up to his face.

  Jake grabbed her arms and pulled her into his chest. She squeaked in surprise, but didn’t resist. She smelled heavenly, like spice and flowers, or was it honey and heather? The urge to kiss the smile from her face lingered, even as he released her.

  “Jake?” she ask
ed.

  Had she expected him to kiss her? He headed for the bailey, to join his friend. He needed air that didn’t smell of Skye Gunn.

  She muttered something in Gaelic. Did she curse him, or his actions? Or, his refusal to kiss her senseless? Jake walked over to Bull.

  “Can we talk now?” Bull asked.

  Jake planted his hands on his hips, then glanced around the bailey. When he spied a barn, he grabbed Tavish’s reins and strode away.

  Bull followed with Dara. His curses were in good old English, so there was no mistaking their meaning.

  “I’m sorry you got caught in this mess,” Jake said.

  “What mess?”

  CHAPTER 18

  Dara pulled at the reins. Bull patted the horse on its neck and waited. Jake headed toward a structure that resembled a crude barn or stable, then stopped. His friend looked at him, but kept silent for several heartbeats.

  Jake’s shadowy expression proved they were in a one Hell of a mess. Jake and Skye knew the score, whereas he was in the dark. Slowly, he realized that the life he’d lived up until this moment meant nothing. Time travel existed, simple as that.

  “Bull, let’s get the horses settled then we’ll talk.” Jake disappeared inside the rustic structure built into the corner of a large walled area. It was separated from a garden by a low wall, which in turn backed up to the well-defended outer wall.

  Armed men roamed the top of the fortification, and glared at him. Several lovely women winked as they strolled by, but a few laughed. Other men tended to their mounts in front of the barn, and also glared. Was it his clothing? Or, did they think his short hair, so unlike the long hair flying loose down their backs, was odd?

  He could do nothing about his hair, but a change of clothes was in order. The wet, filthy clothing was uncomfortable. The ripped jeans were beyond repair, and he was bare-chested. A cool breeze reminded him autumn in Scotland was not the best climate for going around barely dressed.

  Stretching to his full height, Bull tried to ignore their stares. As he followed Jake, he nodded at the men caring for their horses, while he did his best not to stare back.

  They wore simple clothing. Most had tucked cotton or linen shirts into crudely pleated kilts. Wide leather belts held sheathed weaponry. Dirks and daggers, he figured. Most wore calf-high leather boots laced at the heel and the front.

  Small daggers, called sgian dubhs, poked from their boots. When he entered the barn, with Dara plodding at his heels, Bull quickly found Jake at a stall near the back. The building was empty except for them and their horses. Jake looked up, then lowered the animal’s hoof.

  “Is Tavish okay?”

  “Found a small stone. Got to take care with infection. No hospitals around here.”

  Bull glared at him.

  So…this is how it begins.

  “I met Skye five years ago, the same time that Haven MacKay and Iona Mackenzie disappeared from the New England Highland Games. Haven disappeared late one night. Iona, along with a man called Cameron Robeson, went looking for her.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  Jake grabbed a curry brush. “I didn’t believe Iona, not even when she showed me a letter Haven had written her.”

  “Explain.”

  “The letter was full of crazy statements, and she’d dated it 1598.” Jake brushed Tavish with long, hard strokes until the horse whinnied, and shied away.

  “Let me. Keep talking.” Bull held out a hand, and waited for his friend to continue. He’d defer his opinion until he heard the entire explanation.

  Jake tossed him the brush. “Skye Gunn showed up at the games looking for Dorcas Swann. Dorcas used to run the potion and herb tent at the New England Highland Games.”

  “Never met her, but then I don’t go in for all that hokum…” Bull looked at Jake and understood his faux paux. Obviously, there were strange things going on.

  Jake smiled. “I made the mistake of thinking as you do. Skye and Dorcas asked for my help. I blew them off, much to my dismay. Skye followed me around and…ahh…blackmailed me into helping them. Of course, once Dorcas explained several things, I acquiesced.”

  “Blackmail? That pretty little—”

  “Do not underestimate her,” Jake said, then kicked the wall of the nearest stall.

  Dust motes shimmered in the sun peeking through the barn door, and the smell of fresh hay reminded him of Jake’s modern shelter. What was wrong with him?

  Is something going on between these two?

  When Skye had risen early, and headed for the barn, he had awoken to find himself in Jake’s apartment, alone.

  His stomach growled.

  “You do remember that we left before breakfast.”

  “They’ll feed us well. Let’s finish putting the horses away.”

  Bull, surprised at the change of subject, said, “Listen, I like Skye. That’s a given. If I’m stepping on toes, tell me now.”

  Jake’s silence surprised him. Bull’s body tightened. Skye was fair game. If he was stuck in the past, he’d make the most of it. Skye was a small bundle, but he sensed a sexual wildcat beneath her clothes.

  The way her arms held him and her breasts molded to his back, was still a pleasant memory from when they rode through the eerie storm. Her arms had trembled, as she squeezed his ribs. Maybe she shivered from the sudden onslaught of ice and snow, but it hadn’t mattered. If he was stuck here—whenever here was—having a woman like Skye would make the time pass in an agreeable manner.

  “Wipe that smile off your face. This is serious.”

  “Then, talk.” Bull crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Skye is a witch.”

  I didn’t expect that.

  “A powerful sorcerer kidnapped Haven five years ago. I joined the warriors and we made plans to trap the sorcerer inside this castle, the moment he returned for an amulet. He had dropped it after he had slaughtered a guard.”

  “Holy moly!”

  “There’s more. Skye took offense to something I said, and sent me back to the future, before I could help. Now, the guy is threatening her family, and these good people. I have been worried for years. When I spoke yesterday with Iona’s father, Ross Mackenzie, he told me his daughter was fine, but refused to elaborate.”

  “Tell me more about Skye.”

  Jake hesitated. “Recently, she was kidnapped by the sorcerer. He was after someone named Alec, but Skye sacrificed herself. Somehow she managed to escape by jumping into the sea.”

  “That explains her wet clothes. And, her wounds?”

  Jake laughed. A nervous laugh, and he refused to meet his eyes. “She claims a dragon attacked her as she swam.”

  “A dragon? I thought she was joking.”

  “That’s what she said. After what I saw in the loch, I tend to believe her. I was going to get details when we rode to the falls, but—”

  “I intervened. Sorry about that. Now I wish I had minded my own business.”

  “Actually, I apologize for getting you involved, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  Bull stood straighter. It felt good to be needed. “What did you think to get out of her?”

  “Why hadn’t she contacted me for five years!” Jake’s eyes darkened, then glowed like flames.

  What is up with that?

  When Jake kicked a wooden bucket, Tavish jerked inside his stall, slamming against the wall.

  “Easy, big boy.” Bull patted the animal, while Jake strode out of the barn, mumbling under his breath.

  Suddenly alone in a strange barn, in a strange world, Bull wished he was dressed correctly. After the way the locals eyed him, he might scare up a kilt and go native.

  What a history lesson!

  He enjoyed opportunities where he could wear a kilt; at the Robert Burns supper in January, in the Tartan Day parade every April, and at venues like the New England Highland Games each fall. Opportunities like that were more enjoyable than his teaching schedule.

  A modern pleated kilt was mo
re comfortable than jeans, and less confining. Warmer, too. The armed men around the castle wore the ancient plaid, more like a large piece of wool that they wrapped around their bodies, belted with a wide length of leather.

  He had happened upon an exhibition at the games. One of the volunteers laid a large piece of wool cloth on the ground, and folded it into wide folds. The demonstrator lay on his back on the wool, and then rolled with it. He tied a crude leather belt at the waist, and draped the long end of the woven material over a shoulder.

  He pinned it with a shiny penannular clasp. The metallic circular pin kept the material in place, until a warrior needed to throw extra material up into a hood. Hat, nightshirt, and wool bedding all in one.

  His next move?

  Find Skye. She’d explain why she cast a spell that sent them to ancient Scotland. More to the point, she was probably the one with the ability to send them back. Jake had mentioned she’d done it to him.

  If he was lucky, he’d get Skye in a dark corner, and show her how a modern man pleasures a woman.

  When his empty stomach rumbled, pleasure of another sort came to mind. He wanted to fill his stomach. While Jake worked in his barn, he’d skipped breakfast in hopes of catching Skye alone.

  His feet squished uncomfortably in his wet footwear, so he’d take care of procuring dry clothing first.

  Skye was a beautiful woman who Jake claimed practiced witchcraft, what the people of this time period called witchery. He hadn’t seen anything to suggest she was a bad witch. Certainly not the ‘Wicked Witch of the West’ kind of witch.

  Except for the black hair, she reminded Bull of ‘Glenda’, the good witch from The Wizard of Oz. If Skye needed help, as Jake had insinuated, he would offer his. Wouldn’t that put him in her good graces?

  Maybe if Skye paid him more attention, that black-haired laird, who had hugged her too affectionately for a married man, would leave her alone.

  “Why are ye here?”

  Bull jumped.

  He kicked himself for forgetting the world he had arrived in was different from home. Raising his hands in surrender, he waited for Marcus Mackenzie to make the next move.