by Bess McBride
“Are ye asking if it is unoccupied? Or do ye question if the walls will crumble down upon us? The answer to the first question is aye. I canna vouch for the second. The castle is in disrepair.”
I reared back at the slightly contemptuous tone in Iskair’s voice. I had not heard him speak that way before. Dylan must have caught the note too, because he nodded to Iskair, looked down at me with a single quirked eyebrow and then moved away.
I rose awkwardly while Iskair watched without helping, and I pulled the children to their feet.
“Ye said he was yer brother?”
“Yes.” I realized then that Iskair had seen Dylan kiss my cheek. Though I knew Dylan’s kiss had been one of affection—either current or former—I didn’t think anyone else could have detected anything particularly romantic in it.
“Ye appear close.”
“Yes,” I said briskly. “So...are we heading into the castle now?”
“Aye,” Iskair said. He turned. “Rob and the lads will lead the way. Ye have only to follow.”
Indeed, the men helped the villagers to their feet and appeared to be shepherding the clan toward an arched doorway at the base of the castle. I took the kids by the hand, and we followed the group.
I thought Iskair brought up the rear, but I didn’t look over my shoulder to see if he did. Somehow I doubted he would allow a woman and two children to fall behind with no rear guard.
The base of the castle was overgrown with foliage. Stone steps leading to the doorway were covered by a layer of emerald-green grass and tiny clusters of white flowers. Hardy ferns and tufts of grass sprouted from between the stones of the walls ascending the tower house.
“Such a grand castle, Aunt Debra! May we run ahead?” Sarah asked, bouncing up and down as we approached the base of the castle. I saw Ann look over her shoulder to scout us out. She waved. Beyond her, at the top of the stairs leading into the doorway, Rob ushered the villagers in.
“Yes, you can go ahead to join your aunt Ann,” I said. “Don’t go any further!”
Sarah and Archibald ran toward the castle, working their way through the villagers until they reached Ann.
I wondered if I would hear a voice near me, and I was inordinately pleased when I did.
“What do ye think, Mistress Morrison?” Iskair’s baritone sent a shiver up my spine. He stood so close that I imagined he might hear my heart thudding. I forced myself to look up at him, at least a foot taller than me.
“About the castle?” I asked.
He dropped his eyes to mine, and again I marveled at the caramel highlights in their brown depths. He smiled, a handsome even-toothed grin that did little to calm my racing heart.
“Aye, the castle,” he said, looking up toward the building.
“Well, it’s quite beautiful! I didn’t know it was here.” Realizing my mistake, I pressed my lips together.
“If ye came from England, I dinna suppose ye would ken the castle was here, would ye?”
“And Constantinople,” I murmured.
“Ah! Constantinople, of course.”
He extended his hand in a courtly gesture worthy of a ballroom, suggesting that I precede him to the stairs. I moved toward the stairs, acutely aware of Iskair at my side, and I gathered my skirts to climb them. He held out a hand as if for support, given there was no railing, and I took his hand. As warm as his eyes, his hand folded over mine intimately, and he helped me climb the stairs.
We passed through the doorway and stepped into a large vaulted room with several apertures that let in light. If there had been flooring, it was long gone, leaving a small jungle of earth, ferns and turf. The villagers milled around studying the castle, which appeared to be a much-larger version of the tower house on Dun Eistean. A narrow spiral staircase led to the floor above, though no one had as yet started to climb. The well Iskair had spoken of appeared to be centered on the room, a hole in the ground bordered by a low wall of boulders.
“I must speak to her ladyship,” Iskair said. “She will have to take charge of the people.” He nodded and strode off toward Ann, who, like all of us, studied the interior chamber of the ground floor.
She turned to Iskair as he approached and listened to him talk. She nodded on occasion and turned to Rob, who joined the conversation. I huddled by the outside entrance to the chamber, unsure of what to do with myself. The children had joined Ann and Cynthia and appeared as enthralled with the ruined castle as I.
Dylan caught sight of me and headed in my direction. His charge, one of the twins, was in Catherine’s arms. Ann held the other, bouncing the baby on her hip and looking up at the tall highlanders gathering around her.
“What’s going on over there?” I asked Dylan.
“Your friend is telling her that she needs to assign quarters and duties to the villagers. Otherwise, chaos will break out.”
“My friend?” I asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Well, he seems to have set himself up as your protector, so...”
I gulped and laughed.
“Oh, I doubt that. Anyway, that’s a big tasking for Ann. From archaeologist to her ladyship.”
“In her husband’s absence, she’s in charge. I’m not sure she realized that when she married John Morrison.”
I turned to look at Ann speaking to Rob, Kenny and Euan as well as Iskair. The Morrison men nodded and moved away to address the villagers.
“Well, she looks like she’s up for the task! With two babies as well...” I turned to Dylan. “Do you think the courier will find John?”
“I hope so. I have to keep reminding myself that Ann and John survive, as do their children. But I don’t know how long it will take for the courier to find John and the rest of the men. Even when—and if—the men come here, I don’t know how the clan is going to manage. They didn’t bring much with them, and I don’t see how they can live here forever. The only thing they can do is retake their castle from Angus Macleod.”
“Unless he finds us first.”
Dylan’s face drooped. “Unless he finds us first. You’re right about that. We just don’t have enough men to fight off an attack.”
I turned and looked at the families ascending the narrow spiral staircase, with Ann, Cynthia, Rob, Catherine and the children leading the way.
“I think they’re picking bedrooms,” I said dryly. “You should probably go claim something unless you want to sleep in the stables...which appear to be nonexistent.”
Dylan looked down at me.
“You aren’t enjoying yourself, are you?”
“Not particularly,” I said.
“But you were the one who wanted to find the dagger...to travel back in time, I guess.”
“Yes,” I said flatly. “I didn’t realize it wouldn’t be so chaotic. I mean...we haven’t even slept, and here we are...running from a rival clan with murder and kidnapping on their minds.”
Dylan shook his head. “You’re an archaeologist, Debra. Surely you realized how dangerous the sixteenth century was.”
I sighed heavily. “And the seventeenth and eighteenth and nineteenth, even the twentieth if you think about the world wars.”
“Aye.”
“For some reason, I just thought that if Ann and Cynthia had chosen to return—” I didn’t finish my sentence. I really didn’t know what I had thought, what foolish obsession had made me search for the dagger.
“You thought that life must be peaceful if they chose to return?”
I refused to answer, instead looking down at the dirt below my feet.
“I must say that I think both women very courageous for returning to the men they love in the midst of all this conflict. I don’t know that I would have had that courage.”
“I suppose neither of us understands that kind of love,” I murmured somewhat sadly.
Dylan clucked. “I’m sorry. For a moment, I forgot our history,” he murmured.
“Yes, I’m sure you did.” My tone was dry, sarcastic. “You know, I thought you had a crush on Cynthia. But s
he’s married, and I imagine her husband is just as big as Iskair. I’m just throwing out a warning.” As if I conjured him up, Iskair descended the stairs and crossed the vaulted room, heading for us.
He stopped just short of where we leaned against one of the walls.
“Ann bid me tell ye that there are no private rooms for ye and yer brother. The walls have crumbled, and the women, children and auld men will have to bed down together in the great hall. Ann wishes for the auld men to stay wi them so they can be tended to.”
Iskair held himself stiffly, the warm smile I had come to crave replaced by a grim tight-lipped expression. He turned to Dylan.
“Ye can bed down here on the ground floor with the men, Master Morrison.”
“Here?” Dylan asked. “In all these weeds?”
“Aye, it is no grand, but it will do. The floor of the great hall protects the ground floor from weather. Are ye no able to sleep on hard ground, Master Morrison?”
“Aye, of course I can. I just need to see Ann first.”
Iskair shrugged. “As ye wish. Her ladyship bid me bring Mistress Morrison upstairs, so if the pair of ye care to follow me, I will take ye to her. Some of the lads and I will search out some food. Do ye fish, Master Morrison?”
“No, actually, I don’t,” Dylan said. “Sorry.”
“No matter. I suppose we will have to make do with the men we have. I will deliver ye to the women then.”
Iskair’s tone was slightly mocking, and my hackles rose up. He had taken a rude tone with Dylan, and I couldn’t understand why.
We followed Iskair across the room toward the staircase. Euan and Kenny bounded down the stairs at that moment, and Iskair stopped to talk to them in Gaelic. They nodded as if he had given them instructions, and they turned to thud back up the staircase.
Iskair spoke over his shoulder.
“I have sent them up to the garret to stand watch. We dinna have enough men to guard the castle and seek food. And one who disna fish. I dinna ken why John and Torq took so many men with them when they left.”
Dylan pursed his lips at the continued mocking but said nothing. It was as if he and Iskair had taken a disliking to each other.
“I can’t say. This is all very confusing to me,” I said.
“Aye,” Iskair said. “Come.”
We climbed the steps toward a second floor. A low-ceiling room spread out the length and width of the square tower. If any walls had existed, they were long gone. The floor was of stone and appeared to be intact, as did the roof above.
“This is the great hall. There is one more floor above and then the garret beyond that.”
He led us toward Ann, who seemed slightly overwhelmed.
“Ye wished to see Mistress Morrison. Master Morrison accompanies her,” Iskair said.
Ann turned toward us, her arms full of two sleeping babies draped over her shoulders. Cynthia sat on the floor in a corner, taking care of her infant. Sarah and Archibald ran to my side as if they hadn’t seen me in a month. I took their hands.
“Thank you, Iskair,” Ann said. “Sarah and Archibald, can you go visit Catherine over there? The grownups need to talk.”
The kids ran off to where Catherine was unburdening herself of some things she had carried in her arisaid.
“So you’re off to find food?” Ann asked Iskair, obviously wishing him to move on.
He got the hint and nodded. “Aye.” He moved to join Rob by the stairwell.
“Come here, guys,” Ann said to Dylan and me.
We followed her to where Cynthia rested on the floor.
“Can you guys get this off so I can lay it down on the floor?” With her chin, she gestured toward her arisaid.
“Here! Take mine,” I said, unbolting and unbuckling the material before spreading it out on the hard stone floor. Quilted, it looked like it would soften the floor enough for the babies.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re going to need it to sleep with though. I’ll give it back to you.”
I nodded and sat down cross-legged on the floor, my voluminous skirts covering my legs. Ann and Dylan sat down as well.
“Okay, so what’s going on?” Ann asked. “Dylan has been making all kinds of pointed eye contact.”
I looked to Dylan.
“Debra told me that Iskair has been asking questions,” he said.
Ann looked to me. “Is he suspicious of you two?”
I nodded. “Yes, he was asking me where I’m from, and I don’t think he believed my story, which was a bit cockamamie, I have to say.”
Dylan filled her in on the Constantinople tale.
“Constantinople? Well, that’s random,” Ann said with a half smile.
I shrugged, feeling defensive.
Cynthia listened intently to our conversation but remained silent, occasionally glancing down at her baby’s sleeping face.
“I’m trying so hard to trust Iskair,” Ann said, throwing a look in Cynthia’s direction. “I do, but it takes work. I don’t know that Rob would have managed to get us here though.”
“You can trust Iskair, Ann,” Cynthia said.
“I know you do, Cynthia.”
“Well, I know I don’t have much to say here, but I trust him,” I offered. “I don’t know what he’d do if he found out about us, but I trust him with my life.”
Both women looked at me with surprise. I shrugged self-consciously.
“You’re new here, Debra,” Ann said. “You don’t know what he’s done.”
“I don’t know that I trust him either,” Dylan offered.
I gave him a sideways glance.
“I don’t know if any of us understands why Iskair has done what he has, why he allied himself with the Macaulays and Macleods and why he’s helping now, but he’s had a change of heart, and we have to trust that,” Cynthia said. “There is some mystery about why he fought with the Macaulays. I’m not sure what it is. I never could get it out of him.”
She looked at Dylan. “Do you remember reading anything about Iskair, Dylan? Does his name show up in the historical record?”
“I was not familiar with his name until you told me about him.”
“When did you tell Dylan about Iskair?” Ann asked Cynthia.
“When I traveled back in time.”
“Oh, that’s right!”
“You said you trusted him, Debra,” Cynthia said. “Has he said anything specific to you?”
I shook my head. “No, and although I understand he was involved in some attacks on Dun Eistean, I wasn’t here, so maybe I’m not the best judge of character.”
“That’s true,” Cynthia said. “I mean...that you weren’t here and don’t know Iskair very well. I noticed he has been sticking close to you though.”
I shook my head and opened my mouth to protest.
“Oh, you saw that too?” Dylan retorted. “I told Debra he had appointed himself as her protector, but she didn’t believe me.”
“Oh, come on!” I finally managed to say.
“Well, Dylan’s not wrong. I know what it’s like to have Iskair watch over me,” Cynthia said.
I shook my head in denial and picked at the cloth of my skirt.
“He was just watching out for the kids because we were in the back, that’s all.”
“Well, he seems to have taken an instant disliking to me,” Dylan said, “as if he’s jealous.”
Cynthia, who had returned to gazing at her baby, glanced up quickly.
“Jealous? Oh!”
“Dylan!” I hissed. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll admit—you two don’t seem to like each other very much, but that isn’t about me! Besides, he thinks that we’re brother and sister. So the jealousy thing...” I shook my head vehemently. “No.”
“Well, I think all that is beside the point,” Ann said. “We need to decide whether we’re going to include Iskair in our secret or not. The more of us there are, the harder it will be to hide the secret.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know the con
sequences of telling Iskair. How many of your own people know that you and Cynthia are time travelers? I mean...I just found out such a thing was possible in the last twenty-four hours, probably less if I could see a watch. So I can’t imagine what these folks think!” I looked around as the clan settled into little spots, setting up their makeshift living quarters with whatever they had managed to carry.
“Well, let’s see—Rob and Catherine don’t know, Kenny and Euan don’t know, but all of them think something is strange since they’ve seen us come and go. Some of the men with John and Torq know, and of course, Andrew, who’s with them. So not a lot of people actually know about us. They just don’t ask questions either.”
“I think we should tell Iskair,” Cynthia said. “Right now, he’s all we’ve got, and trying to fiddle around with lies is the last thing we need to do.”
“I hate lying, and that’s all I’ve done since I’ve been here,” I muttered.
“Debra was upset when she discovered that I had been lying to her about the time travel—about your whereabouts,” he said to Ann and Cynthia.
A surge of anger coursed through me—anger and hurt. “Dylan! Do you mind?”
“I’m sure she is, Dylan,” Cynthia said. “I would have been.”
I should have thrown Cynthia a grateful look for her sympathy, but my anger and humiliation wouldn’t allow it. I rose swiftly and stomped toward the staircase without a backward glance.
Chapter Eight
I grabbed up my skirts and hurried down the stairs, wiping at my blurring eyes. How could Dylan tell Ann and Cynthia about my feelings? In front of me? What had he been thinking? He had violated a confidence, my trust...even more than he had before.
I felt more distanced from the group of time travelers than ever, and I wanted out, out of the dank, cold, oppressive castle, out of the sixteenth century, out of Scotland!
I ran across the ground floor and out the doorway.
Someone shouted from up above...Euan or Kenny, I didn’t know which. I supposed it was some Gaelic version of stop. I ignored them. I worked my way down the turf-covered stairs and hurried away from the castle toward the bit of blue I saw through the trees.
I emerged from the tree line to see the bay. Low hills flanked the opposite shore. The beach, at low tide, consisted of boulders nestled in mud, seaweed, and standing pools of water. I hitched up my skirts and marched down the shoreline, putting distance between myself and the castle. I took care though not to head north just in case the Macleods were indeed in pursuit. I suspected they would come from the north as we had.
