by Jane Stain
Donald reached toward where Lauren's hand rested on the table, and she hastily withdrew, gasping in fear. He raised his hands up a mock surrender,. "Ye would na be telling me a tall tale tae avoid admitting how ye were chosen, would ye?"
Lauren caught her breath and put her hand on her chest to help calm herself.
"Nay. ‘Tis all part o’ that tale. Dall and Emily had two sons, and his son Peadar had four sons. Dall and Emily's youngest son Tavish and Vange's youngest son John were both beholden as slaves tae the druids. But the boys didna ken this when they were bairns. By tradition, their parents allowed them normal childhoods and didna tell them till the oldest was eighteen years auld and might marry. Sae all the MacGregor lads took up with lasses. We had glorious times together, we six lasses and the six lads.
“And then Dall and Peadar telt their sons about the curse. Only nay one telt us lasses. The lads just disappeared from oor lives with nary telling us naught. Betimes we thought they were dead. Only a year hence did we reconnect, and that started a chain o’ events that brought the rest o’ us back intae contact with the MacGregor clan, and in one way or another we hae all been chosen.
“I telt ye it depended who ye asked. Some o’ us lasses think we were chosen when we were thirteen. Others believe we are only now being chosen, that the seven years we didna hear from them was some sort o’ test o’ loyalty. Either way, the result is the same. We six lasses were chosen by the druids tae travel through time."
Donald opened his mouth to speak, staring at her bracelet.
But she interrupted him this time. "And afore ye think tae just take the bracelet from me, ken ‘tis bonded with me. ‘Twill burn whoever touches it."
At this, Laird Donald made a show of looking deflated.
But Lauren knew he was only biding his time until his druid Roland returned. Little did the laird know.
Chapter Ten
Taran ran after the horse over the tall grass of the battlefield as fast as he could, yelling at the top of his lungs without a care who heard him or followed. "Lauren! Lauren, dinna lose hope! I will get ye away from him, Lauren!"
A hand landed on Taran's shoulder, and he turned with his sword still in his hand, ready to hack down the enemy who tried to stop him from rescuing her.
But it was Leif, and his brother looked mystified and troubled. "Taran, one moment ye were there with me, listening tae the earl negotiate with Laird Donald, and the next moment, ye were gone."
Taran grasped his brother's shoulder as well, clutching it with the urgency he felt.
"Never ye mind that. Laird Donald and his men hae taken Lauren captive! I must go and get her away from them!" He tried to shrug off Leif's grip.
But Leif held on tight. "Taran, ye canna go now. Dinna waste what wee amount o’ time we hae gained from the negotiations. Oor men need us. Allow oor reinforcements tae arrive this evening. Luag is nowhere tae be found. I feared ye both were dead. Ye and I are all there is tae see that the men o’ Inverurie prepare themselves well for the morrow's battle."
Taran struggled with Leif, but his brother was stronger.
"Nay, I dinna care. I must get tae her afore Laird Donald… afore he hurts her beyond repair. He is a cruel man, Leif. Ye ken that, aye? I love her, Leif." A horrible thought occurred to Taran. "Jessica was here, tae! They may hae taken her captive as wull. They—"
"Nay," Leif told him with reassurance on his face. "I was amazed tae hear word that she had arrived in oor camp, but I hae assurances that she is wull. Taran, I understand ye want tae go, but ye must bide here for the battle. If ye dinna, we may lose. Donald has too many men. If ye leave and dae get her back, there may be naught tae return tae."
Taran still struggled. “I remind ye, she is under oor protection.”
Leif loosened his hold, and then let go. "I ken ye mean tae get in through the tunnel. I agree that is wise. Donald likely does na ken about the tunnel, na yet. Howsoever, ye must bide yer time till dark. If ye go now, someone might see ye go in. Ye would betray the secret and destroy oor advantage for when we take back the castle after we win the battle tomorrow. Bide till dark, use the passageways tae remain unseen, and aye, steal her away with nary anyone being the wiser. The militia will be back that way after the battle, tae take back Ualraig’s place."
Taran studied his brother's face. It was sincere, and worried. And he trusted Leif.
"Verra wull. I will return tae camp with ye now, and then under cover o’ darkness, I will gae and get my lass."
Chapter Eleven
A man came and lit Donald’s hearth fire, but the July evening was quite warm, so the window was still undressed.
Lauren glanced outside and felt oppressed by the darkness that had crept up on her while her eyes adjusted to the candlelight inside. Shivering despite the warmth of the fire, she took the last bite of food from her second meal here, then leaned back in her seat and sighed with just a bit of pleasure. Not too much. She was, after all, a captive. Just enough to show that she did feel less apprehensive with all that Laird Donald had promised her.
He would sleep in the next chamber. He only wanted her time travel tool, and his druid would be able to get it detached from her without injury. She needn’t fear.
That suited her just fine, no matter if the druid gave Galdus to Donald or not. Lauren could count on Kelsey to find a way for her to get home — if she wanted to go home. This brought thoughts of Taran, and she lost focus for a moment in a daydream of the two of them at the cottage…
"Dae ye grow sleepy already?" Laird Donald asked with amusement. "I ken these summer nights are warm, and the fire is just a precaution, na really needed it all, howsoever ‘tis hardly time tae retire. I hae a battle ahead o’ me on the morrow. Pray, keep me company late intae the evening."
Lauren was collecting her thoughts, trying to figure out what to say, when she had to stifle a gasp. Taran was nearby! He was within ten feet of her, because she could hear his thoughts. He was determined, focused, and frantic.
"She's right there on the other side o’ this wall! That’s her voice I hear through the cracks. The door willna budge. I need tae shove it open!"
"Dinna!" Lauren screamed at Taran in her mind. "Donald is here with me! Dinna get yerself captured as wull, Taran! They would kill ye. I could na bear that! Once Donald goes tae sleep, I will meet ye at the door doon the row, the one at the nursery.”
Donald was starting to get up to help her out of her seat.
She shuddered. She wouldn’t let him touch her if she could help it.
"Nay,” the laird said to her without hiding his disappointment. “‘Tis not time for bed yet, but if ye insist, then let me help ye." He held up his hand helpfully for her to take in order to support her presumably sleepy self.
Lauren pulled away from him, sitting up straight against the hard stone corner of the room. Was this it after all, the moment when he threw aside all pretense at civility? The moment she would be crushed against the cold stone wall?
"Nay," she said with the kind of feminine hand dip she despised, even in movies, making her voice sound playful and maybe just a tiny bit flirtatious. She had to keep Donald talking. He was interested in the details of time travel, so perhaps if she kept on that leg of their conversation he would back off and sit down and listen again. She had to try. "Nay, I am na sleepy yet—"
But Lauren was rendered speechless by the anguish in Taran’s response.
"She's enjoying herself with him! Would she even welcome me if I found my way intae their chamber? It doesna sound like it. Hae I misread her? I was sae sure she loved me! Nay. She does love me. There was nae way I could hae misunderstood the lass’s verra thoughts. But I dinna ken her at all if she is sae simple as tae be lured away from a love such as oors by the prospect o’ being the lady o’ a castle. Nay. Listen awhile longer, Taran. Ye must be mistaken. Ye hae tae be mistaken. ‘Tis unbearable otherwise."
"Taran!" Lauren thought with all her might at the man she loved. "Taran, I just dae what I must i
n order tae get along. Once free I am from here, we will go tae oor cottage together for the rest o’ oor lives. I just need tae bide here till Galdus’s druid comes back. Then I wull be free—"
"If ye are certain ‘tis not yet time for bed," Donald said with that fake charming smile, "then pray tell me more. Tell me aboot the future."
“Bed!” Taran thought.
Lauren screamed at Taran in her mind, “No! I only humor him! You are the only one I want, Taran!”
But mystifyingly, Taran argued, “Nay. Ye are wrong. She would na.”
“That’s right, Taran! I would na!” Lauren called out to Taran mentally, plagued by his anguish though confused by his words. But she didn’t have the luxury of thinking through Taran’s words right now.
She had to deal with Donald, who sat in front of her. Relieved to see the laird was no longer reaching out to touch her, she used her fingers to comb out her hair as an excuse to keep them off the table. "Wull nae,” she said aloud to Donald, “the biggest difference between yer time and the future I live in is the advances in engineering."
But even as she spoke, realization hit her. Even though she knew it was futile, she desperately called out in her mind to Taran, “Dinna believe a word Galdus tells ye, Taran! He is a liar and a deceiver! I only pretend tae be the laird’s friend, Taran! Only tae pacify him till I can make my escape! I pray ye ignore what yer ears hear and listen tae me with yer heart, Taran! ”
Meanwhile, she had to concentrate to remember what Laird Donald had just said... Oh yeah. He had said, "Dae tell me about yer engineering advances."
But she was still listening in her mind for Taran to tell her of course he knew she was true to him, and for him to confirm her plan to meet with him at the nursery entrance to the secret passageway later.
But all she heard from Taran were vague anguished rumblings.
And Galdus was giggling like a schoolgirl.
Oh! Donald still awaited her reply! She mustn’t ignore him. There were limits to what a prisoner could get away with, after all.
She rattled off to Donald the first thing that came to mind when considering the state of engineering in the Middle Ages. "In my time, we hae taken the mill and built on it, ye ken? It can dae more than grind grain."
"Aye?" Donald said with interest, his eyes full of possibilities and amazement — the latter at having this conversation with a woman.
She stopped herself just in time from rolling her eyes. Even some modern men reacted that way to her and other female engineers. She was sick and tired of it.
"Aye,” he said again, “now that ye mention it, I can see how a windmill might draw water, perchance..."
‘Wow,’ Lauren thought to herself, ‘Donald isn’t as stupid as he … No. He isn’t stupid in any way, just vapid. Keep your wits about you.’
She still called out to Taran in her mind, knowing Galdus was not passing her thoughts along, but at a loss for how else to reach him. “Taran? Did ye hear me? I will meet ye in the nursery after Donald goes tae sleep.”
To Donald, she said, "Aye, windmills can and dae draw water."
Laird Donald raised his eyebrows artfully. "What other wondrous work does the mill dae in yer future?"
Growing more and more desperate for Taran’s answer, Lauren again spoke to Donald by rote, reciting answers she remembered from freshman engineering class, albeit in Gaelic. "We hae indeed harnessed engines tae draw water, and we hae tubes made o’ metal that stretch doon intae the ground below the house and from there tae a lake or river. Aye, vast expanses o’ metal tubing called pipes…”
Meanwhile, she kept searching for the thoughts of her love. “Taran? Taran, tell me ye hear me! Tell me ye will meet me this evening!”
Was Galdus blocking her from hearing Taran now as well? A part of her wished she had never set eyes on the dagger! But then she would never have met the man she loved. The man Galdus was driving away from her, now that the ancient druid had found people who served his purpose better.
It was all she could do to keep her face free of the sickness that was creeping into her stomach. Still searching for Taran's answer in her mind, hoping for it, yearning for it, she rattled off the closest things she could think of, to keep Donald occupied with plans for time travel.
“And we hae complex engines tae drive the water tae each and every house. The work that drives the water comes from even more complex engines that take the work o’ running water and convert it intae energy we can transmit ower vast distances using verra thin stretches o’ metal called wires…”
She didn't think Donald was faking his fascination any longer. As she spoke, his face grew more and more animated with astonishment until now his jaw was just about on the floor. It would be amusing if not for Taran’s pain.
Anger bloomed in Lauren. "Galdus, ye stop lying tae Taran and let him hear me, and ye dae it right now!"
Galdus’s giddy laughter filled her mind before the ancient druid guffawed, "Or what, my love?"
“Or I wull throw you intae this fire is what!"
His laughter reached a crescendo. "Try tae. Gae on."
She would do better than try! She reached for the handle of the jagged dagger sheathed at her waist and—
And her hand was still combing through her hair! Galdus had gained control of her hand!
She tried to reach for him with her other hand, straining to grab the dagger and throw it into the fire, where she envisioned it turning red hot and then melting away to vapor…
And her other hand still rested on the arm of her chair.
Donald caught her attention by swiftly leaning back in his chair with a faraway look in his eyes while saying, "My, the things ye hae seen, the knowledge ye must hae!" His eyes regained their focus and he looked at her with a new appreciation, not for her experience at time travel this time, but for her brains. "And if I gave ye the stone and the metal, and command o’ enough men, could ye make any o’ these wonders come tae be now, in my time?"
Now he was speaking her language, and for once, talking to him wasn’t excruciatingly awkward. "I hae already done some o’ it, in Inverurie. Water closets and some rudimentary irrigation. ‘Tis the sort o’ thing I enjoy doing."
And then Lauren's breath caught midway through her exhale. What could she say to Donald that would really be to Taran? What would allay her love’s fears? Inspiration struck.
"But o’ course,” she said, “as soon as yer druid comes back, he will take ye tae the future. Ye will see all these things for yerself. Ye dinna need me, just the bracelet." For Donald’s sake, she batted her eyelashes, though it made her throw up a little in her mouth.
"Nay," Donald said, but his eyes were far away again, then back at her, then far away again. "Nay, I willna need ye then. Sae tell me, how are these long tubes o’ metal for water made? In a smithy?"
Again, he was speaking her language. She warmed to the subject despite herself. "In a way, yes, but the smithies are huge in my time. They employ thousands o’ people and take up more land than ten o’ these castles."
One advantage Lauren had was that the Laird o’ the Isles spent so much energy exuding his fake charm that he didn't appear to notice hers. He still was taken in by their conversation, asking her, "Hae ye been tae times that I might hae heard about in history, then?"
Putting on her best charming smile, she answered, "Aye. I hae been tae the time when the people who rule this land fought off the Romans, who sought tae take it ower." Even as she smiled at Donald and courted his distraction, she let herself hope that perhaps Taran had heard her despite what Galdus said. Perhaps her love would meet her at the nursery door this evening, once Donald slept.
Again, Donald appeared impressed and surprised. Excitement shone in his eyes before he once again schooled his face to that fake charming one. "Aye? And that was the time o’ the druids as wull, was na? Tae my way o’ thinking, ye Lauren must hae seen some astonishing feats."
Lauren gave him a self-effacing smile, and looked down to her
hands folded in her lap. "Nay. Nay, I was there but for an afternoon. I did see the inside o’ a living broch, but nay, 'tis my friend Jaelle who still lives there and has made a life there. She has seen wonders beyond what either o’ us would believe. She married a Pictish chieftain o’ ten clans."
Again Donald rested his chin on his hand in that boyishly charming way of his, looking up at her with beseeching eyes. But she saw through him. He only wanted the information, and he didn't even mean to credit her with any of it. When he spoke, it was in that sickeningly sweet tone that was making her nauseous. "Surely this Jaelle has told ye some o’ the feats she has seen…"
At long last, Donald got up and collected his sword and shield, as well as the bow he had set down beside the door, then turned to leave her chamber.
"I would keep company with ye and hear these tales all the night long, lass, but I hae a battle tae attend on the morrow. Sae I must leave ye in order tae get my rest. My men are doon the hall, sae dinna think o’ trying tae leave, although if ye dae wish tae come intae my chamber, ye would be welcome there." He gave her what he assumed to be a charming wink.
Finally, the Laird o’ the Isles was gone.
Now she had only to wait for him to be asleep. To pass the time, she looked in all the pouches she had concealed under her leine. Checked to make sure everything was there and in place. Took inventory, as it were. She hadn't known just what she would need, and so she had brought all manner of things: sewing kit, first-aid kit, fabric repair kit, level, screwdriver, safety pins, energy bars, iodine tablets… Just the normal things you brought when you went camping.
