I blinked; what now, indeed. “Lunch?”
“Lunch sounds lovely,” Robert agreed.
Per usual, Robert and I ended up eating in a pub. Our grubby state earned us a few interested glances when we entered, the bright yellow sunlight streaming in from the windows showcasing the dust motes floating around us, but no one seemed offended. And, everyone in the pub appeared to be of the human persuasion, which was yet another plus.
While Robert got us some seats I ducked into the bathroom to wash up. When I returned, I found Robert settled in at the bar with two pints standing before him.
“I ordered your meal for ye, as well,” Robert said as I claimed the stool next to him.
“What did you order?”
“’T’will be a surprise for ye,” Robert replied. I considered badgering him further, but figured that I’d know the answer soon enough. I flagged down the bartender instead, and asked for a glass of water. “The ale is no’ to your liking?” Robert asked.
“It is, very much so, thank you for ordering it,” I replied. “But since I’m driving, I can’t drink it.” In response to his blank stare, I added, “There are laws against drinking alcoholic beverages and driving soon afterward.”
Robert looked confused, then he scowled. “What sort o’ laws?”
“Um.” Honestly, I had no idea of what the penalty would be for driving under the influence in Scotland, or anywhere besides the United States for that matter. I’d always figured Chris would get the first DUI, so I just kept bail money on hand. “Well, I could go to jail,” I guessed.
Robert’s scowl deepened. “More oppression from the English, I gather,” he growled. He was still muttering away about things like Covenanters when the bartender deposited a meat pie in front of Robert, and a basket of curry and chips in front of me. Before I could mention that I was hungry for something a bit more substantial than potatoes and a condiment, the bartender returned with a plate of chicken tikka masala over rice. I glanced sideways at Robert, wondering how he even knew what Indian food was, but he merely shrugged.
“I asked the barkeep to prepare ye the best meal they offer,” he said.
“Well, thank you,” I said. “Why didn’t you get the same for yourself?”
“What, ye will no’ share wi’ me?” Robert asked with a wink. “I thought we were friends by now, love.”
I smiled, and took a bite of my chicken. The meat was tender, and the sauce was perfectly spiced. “This really is good. Want to try it?”
“Only if ye will try mine.”
I glanced at his pie, and the thick cuts of steak and gravy that were spilling forth from the pastry. Yeah, I could do with a bite or two of that meaty goodness. I speared a chunk of chicken, coated it in sauce, and held out my fork. I had expected that Robert would take the fork from me, and eat the chicken as one normally would. Instead he leaned closer and ate the morsel right off the tines.
“’Tis no’ bad,” he declared once he’d swallowed. “A wee bit peppery, but no’ bad at all.”
“It’s not that spicy,” I protested, even as I reached for my pint.
“Careful, love,” Robert warned, placing his hand on mine. “I do no’ wish for you to end up in this croft’s tollbooth. Although, I could most likely break ye free.”
“I bet you could.” I took a sip of beer anyway; first of all, one sip couldn’t possibly hurt. Second of all, I’d have the fairy queen’s personal assassin in the car with me. As if Robert couldn’t take on any ordinary police officer.
“Karina lass.”
I glanced up, and saw that very same assassin holding out a forkful of steak and pastry. “For me?”
“Eat, love,” he insisted, thrusting the fork closer. Since we had apparently moved on to the feeding each other portion of our day, I ate. The steak and pastry was, in a word, scrumptious.
“Oh my God, that’s delicious,” I said, realizing a moment too late that I was talking with my mouth full. I grabbed my napkin and hid behind it, enjoying the rich flavors. Then, I realized what I’d said. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, now?”
“For taking the Lord’s name in vain.”
Robert chuckled. “Do no’ fash, love. I do no’ think He would mind a bonnie lass such as yourself enjoyin’ a bite of a fine meat pie.” He scooped up some more steak, and pointed it at me. My confusion must have been plain, because he added, “If ye do no’ have another bite o’ mine, how am I to obtain another bite o’ yours?”
I grinned, and let Robert feed me. The steak was good, and the pastry crust really was to die for. “You can have more of mine if you want, but you need to get it yourself.”
In response, he took possession of a rather large piece of my chicken. “I can manage that well enough.”
I turned back to my lunch, only to have a chip that had been liberally doused in curry sauce thrust before my nose. “Am I supposed to eat that?”
“Ye surely are.”
I accepted the chip, and washed it down with another sip of beer. What the hell, it had already been poured. “You’re in an interesting mood.”
“Bein’ out in the countryside with ye has done wonders for me constitution,” he replied, now cutting up the rest of his meat pie. “Truly, lass, there are few ills in this world that fresh air and sunshine will no cure.”
“I absolutely agree.” After all, that belief was what had led me to study the earth sciences in the first place. I pulled out my crumpled map, rife with notations of all the places I’d like to visit; there had to be hundreds of marks defacing the poor thing. Since we were already a few hours outside of Crail, and it was still early afternoon, I figured we had plenty of time to visit the other site on my agenda.
“How do you feel about the sea?” I asked. “More importantly, how do you feel about castles by the sea?”
Robert cocked an eyebrow at me. “Get to the point, lass.”
I shoved the map at him, and pointed to a location on the southern edge of the Firth of Forth. “Here’s the other place I want to visit. It’s called Tantallon Castle. The view of the sea is supposed to be amazing there, and there is this really cool volcanic plug island right offshore.” I studied the map for a moment, and added, “The castle is more of a ruin, really. It’s kind of on the way back to the cottage.”
Robert read over the castle’s description in the pamphlet, then he glanced at the map. “’Tis no’ really on the way,” he pointed out. “And ye mentioned earlier today that this castle may have a ghost?”
“Yep, there’s a white lady,” I confirmed. “No idea who she could be, though. People have all sorts of theories, but nothing concrete.”
Robert snorted. “Has anyone bothered to ask her who she is?”
“Most of us don’t have your unique communication abilities,” I smirked.
Robert's eyes skated over the map. “And how far is this castle?”
I shrugged. “Oh, not far.”
“Ye truly have no concept o’ distance, do ye, lass?” he asked. I blushed and ducked my head, my dark hair curtaining my face. My fellow students had teased me mercilessly about my inability to reconcile time and space. One year, the entire geology class had pitched in to give me a state of the art GPS for Christmas, which had left me mortified. Unfortunately for Robert and me, I’d left the device back in the States.
After a moment, Robert leaned toward me and gently tucked my hair behind my ear, and murmured, “Do no’ fash, Karina me love. If ye wish to visit this castle with its strange island, I shall certainly accompany you.”
“You don’t mind?” I ventured.
“Ye are the driver, aren’t ye now? I am at your mercy.”
I don’t know what amazed me more, that Robert was so willing to go along with my whims, or that he could so easily turn my mood around. I smiled, and grabbed another chip. “I should teach you to drive,” I said after I’d swallowed. “I bet you’d like it.”
“I do no ken about that,” Robert said flatly. “I believe m
y skills lie in languages and swordplay, not in the taming o’ metal beasts.”
“Well, eat up, then,” I said, taking another swig from my pint. “We have a castle to visit.” I just knew that the drive, and Tantallon, would be lovely.
Chapter Twenty
Karina
Robert and I talked and laughed during the ride toward Tantallon Castle, him regaling me with stories of his youth in Perthshire and me telling him all about life in New York. We were getting along like old friends, and I dared hope that the nonsense that had been flitting through my mind last night was gone for good. Of course Robert was grateful toward me, being that I’d liberated him from centuries of… of…
I didn’t know exactly what sort of things had gone on in the fairy court, but Robert had mentioned being under Nicnevin’s curse. Anything that had “curse” in the title couldn’t have been all that pleasant.
Despite whatever torments or non-torments Robert had been subjected to over the last few hundred years, they hadn’t damaged his good nature. What’s more, all he had expressed toward me over the last few days was his appreciation over being freed from the Minister’s Pine, and a cordial demeanor. His good manners, coupled with his generally chivalrous behavior, such as when he held doors for me, or walked with his hand firmly placed upon on my elbow or the small of my back, had just sent my imagination into overdrive. My flight of fancy had been nothing more than that. Maybe it was even less than that.
Once we’d arrived at Tantallon, I pulled into the empty tourist lot, parked the rental, and grabbed my Spiritual Sights tour pamphlet from the center console. Not once during this trip to the UK had I arrived at a tourist site and found it empty; even Doon Hill had had a few others wandering about the ruined kirk and graveyard, though only Chris and I had deigned to climb the fairy mound. The utter lack of visitors at a castle by the sea on a clear, sunny day made me wonder if the place had been closed down.
“It says it’s still operational,” I said. I flipped the pamphlet over and checked the copyright date; it had been printed only a month before Chris and I had left the States. “Where are all the tourists?”
“Perhaps they’re off viewing attractions that offer more than a few crumbling stones,” Robert quipped.
I scowled. “You’re starting to sound like Chris.”
Robert grinned at that, forcing his blue eyes to twinkle at me until I laughed. Thus disarmed, we exited the rental and made our way toward the ruins. The castle, though it had been long since abandoned, was still rather majestic, from its tall towers to its massive curtain wall to its perch on a rocky outcrop high above the sea.
“I bet no one ever invaded this place,” I said as we crossed the narrow walkway to the entrance. The castle was surrounded by steep cliffs on three sides, the rocks below so jagged they resembled brown teeth jutting skyward, and the beach below wasn’t any more accommodating. If you fell from the walkway and the height and rocks didn’t kill you, the crashing sea would make short work of what was left of you. “Nothing could possibly be worth the risk.”
“The worthiness o’ the risk all depends upon what’s inside,” Robert said. “Some treasures are worth far more o’ a trial than the crossing o’ a wee bridge.”
“I don’t need money that badly.”
“What if the treasure in question was a fair sight more valuable than gold?”
He had a point there. I was starting to hate it when he had points. We’d reached the end of the walkway, and were standing in an open area before the main entrance. I glanced about for a tour group, a docent, anything; though, since the car park had been empty, I don’t know how anyone would have gotten here. Tantallon Castle wasn’t walking distance from anything.
“Shall we?” Robert asked, extending his arm. I ignored him and strode off toward the tower steps. If Robert was offended he made no mention of it, though he did plant that hand in its usual spot on my back. I could hardly feel him due to my thick sweater and waterproof jacket, which was a good thing. Otherwise, who knows if I would have been able to walk on a flat surface, never mind ascend those ancient stone stairs.
The first thing we learned during our journey upward was that this tower was completely empty, devoid of everything but dust and a few crumbling leaves; there weren’t even any decorative carvings or cool stonework around the windows. While complained about the lack of adornment, Robert navigated the warren of rooms until we found ourselves standing on the top of the middle tower. Once we were up there I understood why some ancient architect had had the crazy idea to build Tantallon in the first place.
The view from the tower was breathtaking, the combination of its six story height atop the cliff below holding us far above the crashing sea in the Firth of Forth. The steeply inclined island of Bass Rock rested in the distance like a lone sentry against invasion. The salt air was cool, inviting, intoxicating, and I turned my face into the wind. I was half imagining that the wind was carrying me off, when I felt Robert’s warm hand against my skin, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“That’s Bass Rock,” I said, stepping out of his reach and pointing toward the island. “The volcanic plug island I mentioned.”
“I’m familiar with The Bass,” Robert said. “Saint Baldred once kept a cell there. He was so holy that when he died his body copied itself twice over, so three kirks could be graced wi’ his relics.”
“Wow.” Multiplying corpses was a superhero ability I’d never heard of, or particularly wanted to witness. “Do you know a lot about saints?”
“Aye, that I do.”
That stubborn piece of hair blew across my face, and Robert tucked it behind my ear once again. Without thinking, I turned my face into his palm until he was cupping my cheek. “Karina,” he murmured.
A bird cried overhead, breaking the spell. “Why do you always call me that?” I muttered, sliding away from him.
“’Tis it no’ your name?” Robert countered.
I sighed, and looked toward the sea. “It is. It’s just that everyone calls me Rina, even my professors at school.”
“Oh?” Robert cocked an eyebrow. “What does your mum call ye, then?”
I pursed my lips, and walked to the opposite side of the tower. Not that the simple act of turning my back would in any way deter a gallowglass. Robert placed his hands on my shoulders, and it was all I could do not to lean back into the warmth of him. “What happened to her?” he asked.
I stared across the empty courtyard, my gazed fixed on one of the cracked blocks of the opposite tower. “Both of my parents died in a car accident while I was young. Well, I wasn’t that young; I was thirteen.”
“A terrible age for a girl to be wi’ out her mother,” Robert murmured. I nodded; in less than a heartbeat’s time, I’d gone from much-loved daughter to orphan.
“Chris tried being there for me,” I continued, “but he was all wrapped up with college and … and it’s not like he really knew what to do with me anyway. I mean, I was just his kid sister, no one he—”
My voice cracked, and Robert spun me about and pulled me into his arms. I started to tell him that while I missed my parents they’d been gone for ten years, and that while the pain was still very much with me it had dulled with time. What’s more, what Robert had obviously interpreted as a sob had really only been a cough, due to the wind having whipped up some dust or leaves or something, but his arms were so warm and strong. After what I’d seen over the past few days, I felt like I deserved a bit of comfort.
“Karina love,” Robert murmured against my hair, “we truly are a pair. I am alone in this world, and ye have naught but your brother.”
“It’s a good thing I found you, then” I said into his chest. He tipped my head back, his blue eyes searching mine.
“A good thing, indeed.” He grazed his thumb along my jaw, his face leaning closer to mine. “What would I do wi’ out you, love?”
“Kill bad fairies? Rescue the wee bairns?” I clutched the front of his shirt. “W-What would you want t
o do?”
Robert’s hand on my back pushed me closer to him. “I ken exactly what I want.”
“I thought I heard visitors!”
Robert scowled, then he looked over the battlement to the courtyard below. I followed suit, and saw a heavyset middle-aged woman waving a red umbrella at us. She wore a floral button down shirt, plaid pants, and the whole ensemble was topped with a raincoat, rain hat and galoshes in matching neon yellow. Most remarkable were her ears, long pointed affairs topped with tufts of dark fur, followed by the fangs jutting up from her bottom lip. Even if I hadn’t seen those fuzzy ears and gnarly teeth I would have thought she was one of the Good People.
“I see ye ha’ started the tour wi’ out me,” she called. “Well, since ye are the only ones in attendance, ye will ha’ me undivided attention. Come along, now, let’s get a wiggle on!”
“Wiggle?” Robert repeated. I slipped out of his arms, fully intending to put this latest touching incident behind us, but he grabbed my hand. “Karina.”
“Let’s go,” I said, tugging him toward the stairs. The tone in his voice had told me that he wanted to discuss things that I’d rather not be discussing. I needed time to process what had just happened, and a few seconds on a battlement wouldn’t be enough. “She’s waiting for us.” Robert followed me, but based on his muttering he wasn’t too pleased about our—well, his—change in plans. And he wouldn’t let go of my hand.
Once we reached the ground level, the way too chipper tour guide was nearly bursting with anticipation. “Well, good day to the two o’ ye!”
“I’m sorry we went up alone,” I began. “The car park was empty, so we didn’t think anyone was here.”
“I’m quite sure that no harm was done,” she demurred. I was impressed at her elocution, what with the fangs. “I’m Morag, by the by, and I doona drive, hence the empty car park. I ha’ a wee room set up for meself in yonder tower.” She gestured at the other tower, which was even more crumbly than the one we’d climbed.
“You stay here all the time?” I asked. “Alone?”
Gallowglass Page 13
