The Stone of Secrets

by K. L. Nelson

  “It looks like a pile of rocks,” Emmett commented as they looked out the windshield.

  “It was ordered dismantled in 1567,” Skye explained. “The centuries have not been kind, but that pile of rocks was once one of the most formidable fortresses in the country.”

  “Okay, so what’s special about this place?” Emmett asked as they got out of the car and started for the castle.

  “Let me show you,” she replied. “This is not open to the public so we may have to do a little breaking and entering. You up for this?”

  “Breaking and entering is my specialty,” Emmett replied.

  The pair reached the ruins and began climbing over the rubble. With some difficulty they reached the opposite side and descended near the ocean. Waves crashed against the rocks below as they made their way down the sheer cliff some sixty feet.

  “Good, it’s still here…” Skye said as they entered through a small archway in the castle wall near the level of the sea. They sat just inside the archway and Skye gave a little history lesson.

  “This was a massive stronghold for Scotland in medieval times. In 1338 it was laid siege by the English while the lord and his men were away at war. The lady of the castle received provisions by night, probably through this secret passage, that helped her withstand the siege and gain the victory.”

  “Impressive,” Emmett said as he examined the cave. “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

  “That’s not the half of it,” Skye said. “She was called Black Agnes, and she was a fearless taunt to the man in charge of the siege, the Earl of Salisbury. She would berate the man and his troops from atop the castle wall. She had her ladies-in-waiting dust off the places on the wall damaged by the bombardment to ridicule and taunt them. When the English approached the wall with a siege tower, Agnes had a boulder dropped from the wall to destroy it. The boulder had been launched over the wall by the English during the bombardment, and Agnes had saved it for just the right purpose.”

  “She used their own weapon against them.”

  “Precisely. She showed that anyone can win against impossible odds with a little resourcefulness and a whole lot of courage.”

  Emmett grew a big smile as he looked at Skye.

  “What?” Skye asked.

  “She’s your inspiration,” Emmett replied. “Now I know where you get it.”

  “Oh, stop.”

  “No really. I finally get you now. Thank you for helping me put it all together.”

  “Emmett, I am certainly no Black Agnes.”

  “No, but I’ll bet she’d be proud if she saw you.” Suddenly Emmett’s eyes grew big. “Wait – you descend from Black Agnes, don’t you!”

  Skye looked down. “Perhaps, but that’s not why…”

  “I knew it!” Emmett said with a clap. “That’s why we came here. So many things have just fallen into place! Thank you, professor. Thank you for helping me get you.”

  “Emmett Burke you pompous, arrogant…. You are far too pleased with yourself right now!” But nothing Skye could say would diminish the man’s satisfaction. He lifted her off her feet and gave her a kiss that disarmed her. It was a kiss of joy, like when someone is so happy and they proclaim, “I could kiss you right now,” and then they do it. But the innocent touch of their lips sparked a feeling far deeper than joy.

  Melting breathless in his arms, the professor feigned resistance. “…you pompous, arrogant…” she repeated softly before letting herself fall to his mouth to tenderly return his kiss.

  How did he do it? Skye thought. She had been quite sure of her plan to avoid all entanglements like this until she was good and ready. The rush of love she felt for this man almost made her angry. She felt comfortable in making an intelligent plan and then carrying out that plan. All of this was definitely not part of her plan.

  Locked in a loving embrace, Skye slowly felt her plan slipping away.

  The rising tide suddenly sent an icy spray into the cave that enveloped the pair, but neither felt the chill as they kissed.

  On that winter day, one seaside cave was a few degrees hotter than the others.

  ***

  On the drive home, Emmett was forced to think about Skye’s moral conviction once more. Naturally that kept coming up in his mind. As much as he desired her, he would never ask her to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. But as it turned out, that only made him want her more.

  Emmett thought of Sargent Jacob Smithers, a buddy from his days in the military. Jake was a clean-cut guy who was serious about his religion. For him, that meant no sexual relations outside of marriage. On a SEAL team, that made him stand out like a sore thumb. While boys were out being boys, Jake would stay home and write a letter to his girlfriend back home. The others on the team ribbed him mercilessly. Emmett himself did not shrink from the sometimes-not-so-light-hearted teasing. But one day he took Jake aside. He knew Jake didn’t really take the persecution too seriously; he always seemed to laugh the loudest. But Emmett just wanted him to know how much he admired Jake for standing up for what he believed in. “You’re doing it right, Jake,” he told him. “Inside, all of us reprobates wish we were a little more like you.”

  Jake smiled and thanked him for saying it. He looked Emmett in the eye and said, “When the time comes, I know you’ll do it right too.”

  Those words stuck with Emmett. How could Jake possibly know that? Somehow Emmett didn’t doubt for a second that he did. He looked over at the woman beside him in the car. He had always wondered if he would ever find the right one and settle down. Now it seemed that time was coming faster than expected.

  For now, Operation Skye was proceeding as planned….

  “Oh my gosh Emmett, what is it now?” Skye asked suddenly.

  “What?” Emmett asked, startled.

  “You did it again! You keep getting a random smile. What could be going through that mind of yours?”

  “Can’t a guy smile?” Emmett replied innocently.

  “Not that kind of smile,” Skye said.

  Emmett sighed. “Okay, Skye, let me explain something about men. We’re not like women. We only have one smile. It means we’re happy.”

  “Oh really?” the professor countered. “Perhaps I’ll start taking pictures of your smiles. On this trip alone I’ve counted five of them.”

  “Trust me, Skye. They all mean the same thing.”

  “Well don’t get too happy. I’m still not interested in your gun collection.”

  “Oh, we’re way past the gun collection,” Emmett replied. “Now I’m thinking about showing you my muscle car.”

  There’s number six, Skye thought to herself. This man is hopeless. How could she fall so hard for this stranger she’d only just begun to know? Even as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. He is everything Daniel is not.

  It’s not fair. Emmett doesn’t deserve to be compared to Daniel, even if he does compare favorably in every way. She wondered if she would ever be able to have a relationship without Daniel in the back of her mind.

  The answer to that is no, she thought. Life is about learning from your mistakes. To forget Daniel would be to forfeit the experience gained from him. She was a better person for it. She was wiser. She definitely knew what not to do.

  One thing was certain: Emmett seemed to understand her heart like no one ever had before. He had been right, for instance, about why she came to Dunbar. She came to seek some kind of connection with her roots, with Agnes. Somehow being at the ruins helped her comprehend herself. She didn’t fully understand it, but she felt drawn to her ancestry. If there was one thing her training had taught her, it is that the past matters. How can a culture understand itself without knowing where it came from? And if that was true about culture, why would it not also be true in family? Can we really understand who we are without knowing the people who went before us, who laid the foundation we build on?

  For some reason she didn’t entirely understand, Skye had been thinking about her ancestr
y a lot lately. Somehow she felt like her progenitors were pulling for her on the other side. Her analytical mind kept having the same thought: Why would the people who love us the most feel any less love when they depart to the next life? If anything, she reasoned, their feelings for us would intensify as they watch us from beyond death. And if that’s true, what influence could they have on our path in life?

  The farther she pressed down this line of reasoning, the more unanswerable questions she came to.

  And to the scientific mind of Skye McAlister, unanswerable questions were like fuel to the fire.

  ***

  The next morning, Skye and Emmett got out of the SUV at the Buccaneer Ruins and started walking for the tree with their tools in hand. Suddenly Skye was knocked backwards with a tremendous force, as if hit by an invisible sledge hammer. Skye lay on the ground, bleeding from her chest. She’d been hit by sniper fire.

  “No!” Emmett dropped his tools and rushed to her side. “Hang on, Skye,” he said as he held one hand to her chest to stop the bleeding while dialing his phone with the other.

  The ambulance seemed to take forever. Marnoch was out of the way enough that the ambulance had to come twenty miles. During that time, Emmett talked to the victim.

  “You’re going to be okay, Skye. Focus on my eyes, don’t leave me.”

  A half mile away, on a hillside completely hidden in the foliage, a man lay motionless peering through his range finder. .50 caliber bullets were striking the ground all around him, throwing dirt in the air and making a huge sound.

  Typical Americans, he thought in his eastern European tongue, using a cannon when a good rifle will do the job nicely.

  When the ambulance finally arrived, Skye was gone. The sniper watched as the paramedic examined the victim. The paramedic looked up at Emmett and shook his head. The sniper watched the agent kick the ground in frustration. He watched the woman’s lifeless body being zipped into a black bag and loaded into the ambulance. All he need do now was make his escape. The job was done.

  The professor was dead.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Fidach

  Kingdom of the Picts

  Third watch

  Vuradech stood atop the hill that overlooked his lands. He felt like he could do anything. This was the first time he had ever been able to run at full speed from the west peak clear to the north peak by way of Peleg valley. He was getting stronger every day. He could carry one of his fat sheep on each shoulder. He was in the best shape of his life.

  Vuradech sat on the hillside and surveyed his flock with pride. From where he sat he could see Tarzog’s flock across the valley. Vuradech knew his own flock was bigger by fifteen head, and a smile crept over his face. Tarzog was a good neighbor. Before Vuradech began building his herds, Tarzog was known as the richest man in the valley. Everyone in Fidach admired Tarzog and his fine animals. But Tarzog knew nothing of herbs.

  Being a man of honor, Vuradech offered to share his knowledge with his neighbor. He would have every Pict improve the quality of their animals, if they would listen. But Tarzog scoffed at Vuradech and his herbs. Vuradech the leaf clipper telling Tarzog how to raise animals? It was laughable. Then the hard winter hit and Tarzog lost seven animals, while Vuradech lost only one. And with the finer quality of Vuradech’s sheep, they seemed to birth their young much faster. Now the laughter was coming from the other side of the valley.

  But Vuradech’s private laughter subsided as he remembered the recent conversation he’d had with his wife Galem. No, ‘battle’ was a better word for it. The woman was not happy with Vuradech, not one bit. Vuradech had run out of excuses to not join her in bed at night, and Galem’s patience was gone. Vuradech wished he understood women better. His life with Galem had taught him much. But just when he thought he was beginning to understand everything, Galem would hit him with something out of the blue. He felt like he was helplessly lost in the darkness all over again.

  Vuradech was glad for his flocks. He liked sitting on the hillside where he belonged, watching over the animals. It gave him time to think. Perhaps out here alone he could finally figure out women.

  That evening, Vuradech walked into the house quietly. Galem was sitting in the corner of the room with her eyes closed. Vuradech swallowed hard and stepped closer. “Look what I found for you on the hill,” he said softly, laying the bundle of heather he’d collected on the table. “I thought of you when I saw it growing.”

  Galem opened her eyes and looked at the purple flowers. Her sad eyes rose to meet Vuradech squarely, but she said nothing. Vuradech felt himself grow discouraged. The flowers were not working. Why were the flowers not working?

  Vuradech felt his discouragement turn to despair, and then to utter grief. Tears came to his eyes and he knelt at the woman’s feet. Suddenly he felt all was lost. He broke down sobbing. He hated himself at this moment. He could stand in council with the noble men of Pictland and captivate their minds. He could stand on the battle field and cross swords with an enumerable foe. But he could not face a single woman. Why did Galem have such power over him to bring him to his knees like this, to make him feel so helpless?

  “I don’t want you to die,” he said through his tears.

  Galem put her hand on the top of Vuradech’s head. “Stand on your feet, man,” she said softly.

  Vuradech gathered himself and stood up. Galem rose to face him. She looked into his eyes and spoke slowly:

  “The pain of childbearing is natural. All mothers have it. If your mother - and your father - had not the courage to face it, you would not be here. No one ever promised you it would be easy, but your line must go on. You must produce a daughter. And we must fill the earth with our kind. It is the destiny of our people. Yes, I may die. You may die. But if we refuse to live, have we not died already?”

  Her words did not stop the tears from falling down Vuradech’s face, but somehow Galem made him feel hope. How did the woman always make so much sense?

  Vuradech let Galem lead him by the hand into her bedroom. Lying beside her, feeling her warmth gave Vuradech new strength. He realized more than ever that he was nothing without her. He would do anything for this woman. If Galem wanted another baby in her womb, maybe he could even do that.

  At last, he was beginning to understand women.

  Seven Years Hence

  Vuradech laughed as he watched his five children frolic in the courtyard. He remembered his conversation with Galem from seven years before and smiled. His worry had been for naught. His Galem proved that she was stronger than he thought. She had given birth to two more strong sons and a beautiful daughter for him. His children, including Taezalorum’s son now played in the courtyard. He sat beside his wife and laughed at them as they cavorted.

  In the last seven years, his clan had experienced peace. However, he knew that the peace would not be long lived. There were rumors of war in the south and Fidach was ready. The men of every village in the realm were trained and armed for battle. Vuradech himself had enlisted the help of the great warrior Tergalot to teach him the art of war. Tergalot taught him discipline, control, and precision in handling his weapon. He taught him tactics for the battlefield. He taught him how to get inside the head of his enemy. Often battles are won before a single sword is drawn.

  Vuradech one day bested Tergalot as they sparred in the forest. It was the first time Tergalot had not made Vuradech look like a fool. It surprised Vuradech as much as Tergalot.

  “You have learned much with the sword, Vuradech,” the master said as he picked himself off the ground. “Now I will teach you how to not be surprised when you win!”

  Vuradech had also grown rich beyond measure. People came from across the realm for his expert counsel on sheep rearing. His whole clan was flourishing. Even Tarzog his neighbor humbled himself and sought Vuradech’s advice. Vuradech happily counselled with Tarzog on which herbs to administer and when. Tarzog’s flock soon rivaled his own. And that made Vuradech just as proud.

  But ev
en prosperity was cause for worry. The Angles would know of the great riches in the north. It would only feed their lust for Pict blood.

  Every day he went to the altar on the hill and beseeched the gods to protect his people. He prayed as if everything depended upon the gods. Then he worked as if everything depended upon him.

  “What ails you, husband?” Galem asked him one day, noticing his concern.

  “It is too peaceful,” he confessed to her.

  Galem was wise beyond her years. She nodded sagely. “Then we shall enjoy the peace while it endures,” she said. “We shall not let fear of tomorrow rob the joy of today. This is my humble opinion, my lord.”

  Vuradech took her hand. “You have served me as more than a wife. A greater woman there is not in all the seven kingdoms. Fidach shall do as you bid. We shall be happy. We shall work to prepare ourselves against the day of battle, and we shall live with joy in our hearts knowing we have done enough.”

  Vuradech saw his boys Harbald and Taezali sparring with sticks in the village. He went to them and caught one of the sticks as it swung wildly. “Stop now, young warriors. Let me show you something the great master Tergalot taught me many years ago…”

  Galem laughed as she watched Vuradech train the boys in swordsmanship. Under her breath she mused, “Silly man. He taught you that yesterday.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alpha Sigma House

  Steinbridge University

  The university paper lay open on the coffee table in front of Lindsay and Mert as they looked at the obituary. “Steinbridge Loses an Honored Professor and Friend” was sprawled across the top of the page in bold letters. Underneath was a picture of Professor Skye McAlister.

  “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Mert cried.

  “It won’t be the same without her,” Lindsay spoke through her tears. “This is awful.”

  Skye McAlister had been much more than a professor to them. She was their mentor, their friend. Special is the bond that joins students to the one who guides their learning with more than teaching. The professor could have stayed at the university and enjoyed her plush office, rising from her leather chair to lecture for a few hours a day. It was all Steinbridge required of her to collect her generous salary. But how much more valuable to young people to spend a summer in the field putting their hands on artifacts they had drawn from the earth? Taking notes in a lecture hall cannot compare. Professor McAlister did so much more than teach. She instilled passion for learning.