Gallowglass

by Jennifer Allis Provost

  “And ye are certain ye are supposed to eat it that way?” he asked, as I bit into a slice of pizza. It was a traditional Margherita, with marinara sauce, sliced mozzarella, and a scattering of basil leaves, all on a thin, crispy crust. Since I’d been raised on New York pizza it was far from the best I’d ever had, but it was delicious nonetheless.

  “Where I come from, this is required eating,” I said, once I’d swallowed. “If it hadn’t been for late-night pizza deliveries, I might have starved to death during college.” I pushed my plate toward him. “Go on. Try it.”

  Robert narrowed his eyes, then tentatively picked up a slice. He bit into it, chewed, and set it down. “Tastes much as it looks,” he grumbled, returning his attention to his plate of roast chicken. “I believe I prefer meat for me dinner.”

  “More for me,” I said, snatching the slice from his plate. We ate in silence for a time, Robert concentrating on his chicken and potatoes and ignoring his steamed asparagus, while my eyes darted around the restaurant.

  “None are here,” Robert said without looking up from his plate. “Ye are quite safe, lass.”

  I glanced at him, my gaze drawn by the silver collar just visible beneath the open collar of his dark red button down shirt. “I know. It’s just hard to not keep checking.”

  “Aye. That it is.”

  We finished our meal, talking about such boring topics as the weather and how much a rental car might cost us; we needed to acquire one, since without one we would be stuck walking around Crail. And since Chris was footing the bill for our replacement rental I was definitely upgrading from the subcompact we’d been squeezed into since we’d arrived in the UK three weeks ago.

  After the server had cleared our dinner plates, and taken our dessert order, our conversation turned, naturally, to the Good People.

  “You never did tell me why you first made the ointment,” I said.

  “Didn’t I?” Robert topped off my wineglass, then finished off the bottle into his. “Och, I made me first batch long ago, long before I attended university. I was a wee lad at the time, constantly terrorized by me brothers. I am the youngest o’ seven boys, ye ken.”

  “You have six older brothers?” I gaped at him, unwilling to imagine what my life would have been like with five additional Christophers dogging my every move. Before I could ask him how he’d maintained his sanity, the server arrived bearing steaming cups of coffee, and our desserts. After we’d murmured our thanks, Robert set to work on his chocolate cake.

  “Heavenly,” he murmured, eyes rolling back in his head.

  “Was their food really so awful?” I asked, sampling my tiramisu.

  “Ashes and rot was what it was.” Robert enjoyed a few more bites before speaking again. “What was I saying? Ah, yes. How I came to brew up that first batch o’ wort. As I said, we were a large family, and poor at that. Me mum and her maid were always up to their elbows what with the cleaning and mending.”

  “I bet.” I imagined seven unruly boys, and all the torn shirts and filthy messes they must have generated.

  “So it came as some surprise when one day, all o’ that mending and washing was suddenly done,” Robert said. I blinked; did he mean that the fairies had been helpful? After my run-ins with the gray monster and the kidnappers, I’d decided that all fairies were evil. Well, all of them except the wights. “Have ye e’er heard of a habetrot, lass?”

  When I shook my head, he continued, “’Tis a wee thing, terrible to look upon, but with a heart o’ gold. When one comes across a family rich in love, and little else, they tend to stop in, and help out for a bit.” Robert pursed his lips, and stabbed at his cake.

  “And you just had to have a look at it,” I ventured. Robert glanced up, and smiled.

  “Aye, that I did,” he confirmed. “’Twas enough for me mum that the tasks were done, and me brothers had no interest in such things. But me, the little one, just had to know what manner o’ creature was invading me home. So, I hied meself off to the local wise woman, had her teach me a thing or two, and,” he waved his fork in a circle, “here we are today.”

  “No wonder you’re so calm around them,” I grumbled. “You grew up seeing them all around you.”

  “Do no’ mistake me putting on a brave face as calm,” Robert warned. “Plenty o’ times, I am near to passin’ out from fright.”

  I smiled, and sipped my coffee. “I don’t know,” I said. “You seemed pretty brave to me when you were fighting those kidnappers, and when we returned the children.”

  His blue eyes twinkled. I liked it when they did that. “Did I, now? Perhaps I’ll embark upon a new career as an actor, then.”

  We laughed at that, then we finished our desserts and settled our bill. Once we stepped out of the restaurant I grabbed Robert’s hands, walking backwards as I led him along.

  “Walk me home, brave man,” I declared; all the wine had made my head a bit fuzzy. “Keep all the creatures of the night at bay!”

  Robert laughed as he pulled me around to his side. “That, I shall happily do,” he said, linking his arm with mine.

  Our walk back to the cottage wasn’t overly long, though Robert did manage to regale me with the many ways he would defend me from all manner of beasts. Once we crossed over the cottage’s threshold, our laughter was replaced by an awkward silence.

  “Karina,” Robert said at last, “truly, lass, thank ye for such a wonderful meal. I do no ken how I will e’er repay all o’ your kindnesses.”

  “It was just dinner,” I demurred.

  “I’m no’ thanking ye just for dinner,” he clarified. His blue eyes searched mine, and he took both of my hands in his. “If not for ye, I might have lived out eternity under Nicnevin’s curse. You, Karina lass, have given me my life back.” He raised my hands and kissed each of my knuckles in turn, eight sweet, slow kisses. “Anything I can e’er do for ye, ye have but to ask.”

  “Oh, um.” I was trembling again, for once not from fear. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help. I like helping.”

  Robert squeezed my fingers. “I know ye do.”

  I squeezed back. “Is there anything I can help with now?”

  Robert chuckled. “And what sort o’ help are ye offerin’?”

  I bit the inside of my mouth so hard I tasted blood. “In the morning. I meant in the morning. I’m going to go to bed now. Good night!”

  I slipped free of Robert’s grasp, and fled to my bedroom. I shut the door and leaned against it, my heart hammering away in my breast. That was the second time I’d resisted asking Robert into my room. I didn’t know if I could resist a third time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Karina

  Robert and I obtained a replacement rental car the following morning, which turned out to be pretty easy; the clerk in the rental office assumed that Robert was my husband and therefore the Christopher Stewart named on the credit card, and swiped away with abandon. Good thing that Olivia’s evil lawyers hadn’t made good on their threats to freeze Chris’s assets just yet.

  Rental car thus secured, Robert and I celebrated with one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had. Hot, creamy oatmeal, crispy bacon, potato scones, and fried mushrooms and tomatoes all made an appearance at our meal. Thankfully, Robert refrained from mentioning how he had pledged himself to me the prior evening, or any of the other associated awkwardness that followed. As for me, I was pretending that the whole exchange had never happened, even though I’d thought about it all night, and dreamt about a stalwart knight with dark hair and blue eyes galloping around on a white horse. And the epic dry spell continued.

  “Where are we off to this morning, then, Karina me lass?” Robert asked as he finished off his bacon.

  “I’d like to go to the formation first,” I said, at once becoming that geeky middle school girl who had been more into dinosaurs than pop music. “It’s called Dob’s Linn.”

  “Oh?” Robert quirked a dark eyebrow. “And where might this Dob’s Linn be located?”

>   “Moffat.” I dug out my much-abused ordnance survey map, and pointed to the area in question. “It should only take us about an hour to get there in the car.”

  Robert looked at the map for a moment, dark brows lowered across his eyes, and it hit me that this was probably the first time he’d seen a map of modern Scotland. I felt a wave of guilt, being that I might have just opened up a few old memories that he’d have rather left buried. Then my rakish reverend flashed me that grin of his, the one that always speared my heart like a hot knife through butter.

  “Well, then,” he said, “let’s be off.”

  I tossed some money on the table, and we rose to leave. Robert held the door for me, and led me to the car park with a firm hand on the small of my back, which was making my stomach threaten to expel all of my delicious breakfast. Not to mention, there was no reason he should be affecting me this way. Robert was always chivalrous, but after my behavior during our walk home last evening, and the subsequent knuckle kissing incident, I was rather confused.

  Robert held open the car door as I slid behind the wheel, and that was the end of our physical contact. If I’d been honest with myself, I would have admitted how I missed his touch, but I’d already decided that being confused was better than being attracted to him. As far as I was concerned, being friends, and nothing but friends, was the only sensible thing to do.

  I glanced at him as I put the key in the ignition. Being sensible really was a drag, sometimes.

  We stopped at the cottage so I could collect my field kit and my duffel bag, and grab out jackets. Once we’d locked the door and said goodbye to the wights, we were on our way to Moffat.

  ***

  Apparently some of the rude comments Chris had made about my map reading skills were spot on, since it took closer to two hours to reach Dob’s Linn than the one I had estimated. Okay, maybe two and a half. Or perhaps our extended journey was due to the fact that I had a seventeenth century man riding in the passenger seat, who clutched the armrests as if they were life preservers and swore, rather impressively for a reverend, every time I accelerated.

  Whatever the true reason for the long drive, we eventually made the turn off toward the site and entered the car park. “No’ that far,” Robert grumbled as I parked the car.

  “Oh, hush. You liked the trip.” When he wasn’t concerned that we would careen into a ditch, Robert had enjoyed looking out at the countryside.

  I exited the rental, I popped the trunk and started assembling my kit.

  “What’s all this, then?” Robert asked as I grabbed a few picks, three sturdy canvas totes, a small hammer and chisel, and my goggles. Since Robert would be prospecting with me I grabbed my spare goggles, the ones that were way too big for my head and made me look like an anthropomorphic fly.

  “This is my field kit. Well, my travel field kit,” I amended, indicating the diminutive size of the tools. “My kit at home has larger and better tools, but these will do for today.” I opened a hard plastic case, and retrieved a tape measure and magnifying glass.

  “I thought we were looking for rocks?” Robert asked when he saw the magnifying glass. “We canna see them with our own eyes?”

  “This place is supposed to be one of the best sites for fossils in the UK,” I replied. Robert looked dumbfounded, so I explained, “Fossils are the remnants of creatures that died out a long time ago. Usually, only the bones are left, but sometimes we find imprints of skin or, if we’re super lucky, internal organs.”

  Robert nodded, looking vaguely disgusted by my description. “And we are searching out these beasties for what reason?”

  “To learn more about the earth, of course.” I unzipped my duffel, and grabbed two granola bars and a package of beef jerky. We hadn’t stopped during our journey, mostly because I had held firm to my belief that we were almost there from the fifty minute mark onward, and my belly was rumbling. “Would you like a something to eat?”

  Robert eyed the small green rectangle in my hand. “What sort o’ food are ye offering me?”

  “It’s granola. Nuts and dried fruit and such.” I unwrapped one of the bars and took a bite, then I held out the beef jerky. “This is dried beef.”

  Robert shook his head. “I am no’ that hungry.”

  “Suit yourself.” I jammed the unopened bar and jerky in my pocket, grabbed my site map, and oriented it to our location. “It’s about a thirty minute walk to the gorge from here. You up for it?”

  “I am a warrior and a scholar,” Robert declared. “O’ course I am up for a wee walk.” He made a face and added, “I will take that strange meat o’ yours, lass.”

  I smiled, and handed him the packet of jerky and a bottle of water. “Let’s be off, then.”

  ***

  The hike to the gorge wasn’t one of the easiest hikes I’d ever been on, but it was far from the worst. Once we arrived at the gorge proper, Dob’s Linn lived up to all the marketing materials I’d read. It was carpeted in lush grass, with dozens of fallen shale blocks and greywackes littering the landscape. Yet again, Scotland’s beauty had not disappointed.

  Robert, true to his scholarly roots, nodded attentively as I explained the site’s significance as a boundary between the Ordovician and Silurian periods—geologic time periods which had occurred four hundred eighty five million and four hundred forty three million years ago, respectively—and had the decency to be impressed when I pointed out a volcanic ash layer that streaked across the side of the gorge.

  “Ye truly are in your element,” Robert said when I pulled out my hammer and chisel. “Ye remind me o’ the young lads I studied with at university.”

  “Well, I am a young woman studying at a university,” I pointed out. I picked out a promising looking slab of shale, and ran my fingers along the edge. “I’ve always been fascinated by the earth, how everything ended up the way it did. For every bit of information we learn, the earth has a thousand more secrets buried within her.” I dragged the wedge of shale around, and balanced it on its side. “Can you hold this upright for me?”

  “I surely can,” Robert said. “Why am I holding it?”

  Instead of responding, I set my chisel along the side of the shale, and gave it a few taps. Once I found the cleavage point, I gave the shale a good whack. Robert cursed as the stone broke apart in his hands, but I ignored his mutterings.

  “Wow, I never get this lucky with my first strikes,” I mumbled, grazing my fingertips across the rock.

  “Luck?” Robert repeated, ignoring my charmed comment. “What does luck have to do with the breaking o’ rocks?”

  I took a swig from my water bottle, then I poured some across the newly cleaved shale. “These are graptolites,” I said, the water having defined the fossils embedded within the shale.

  “Written in rock,” Robert said, translating the fossils’ Greek name as he grazed his fingers across the small creatures. “They look more like plants than beasts.”

  “Yeah, they have a distinct dendritic form,” I said, poking at a larger one. “For centuries they were mistaken for fossilized plants, but they’re definitely critters.”

  “Beasts like trees,” Robert murmured. “Ne’er have I heard o’ such a thing, no here on God’s earth, nor in Elphame.”

  “I’m not surprised. They went extinct around four hundred million years ago.”

  Robert’s eyes widened, then he shook his head. “I do no ken how ye can refer to these vast expanses of time with such ease.”

  “Says the almost four hundred year old man,” I said with a smirk.

  Robert threw back his head and laughed. “Ye have me there, Karina me lass.” He tilted the shale toward the sun, tracing his fingers across the surface. “Actually, I think I have seen beasties such as these.”

  “Really?” I leaned in for a closer look. “Where?”

  “The cottage’s garden. Do these beasties no’ resemble the wight’s wings?”

  I looked at the fossil he’d indicated; it was a colony, with four feathery
branches attached to a central point. “I guess so.” I bit the inside of my mouth, hard. I would not have a panic attack while prospecting for fossils.

  “Do you think these fossils are wights?” I demanded. “Are they fossils at all, or just some fairy sent to spy on us?” I glanced around the gorge. We appeared to be alone, but I’d stopped trusting appearances.

  Robert touched the back of my hand. “Does no’ matter, lass. Even if these beasties were dragons in life, they are well and truly dead. They canna harm us, nor report on us to her.”

  I ducked my head. “I guess I freaked out a bit. Sorry.”

  “’Tis quite all right, love.” He stowed that rock and our find in the largest of the canvas totes, then he stood and held out his hand. “Let’s look for a few more o’ these fossils o’ yours,” he said as he hauled me to my feet. “I find that I enjoy being around things that are far older than I.”

  ***

  About two hours went by, Robert and I had packed all three of our totes full with fossils (that might or might not be ancient wights) and other interesting finds. Robert was a quick study, and it turned out that he had quite an eye for prospecting. When I mentioned that he laughed, and stated that he’d always loved to learn.

  Eventually, we hauled our finds back to the rental. After stowing our tools and fossils in the trunk, Robert asked, “Well, Karina lass, what now?”