RESCUED BY THE HIGHLANDER

by Preston, Rebecca

  These reflections were interrupted by the gentle creak of her door. Just as Maeve had promised, in sidled a servant, clearly moving as silently as she could. She placed a covered tray carefully onto the table — then she uttered a surprised little cry as she turned around to see Anna, wide awake and already dressed.

  “Oh, my word!” the young woman said. “Sorry, ma’am, did I wake ye?”

  “Not at all,” Anna said, smiling. “I’m Anna. New around here.”

  The woman bobbed a nervous little curtsey. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am. I’m Emily. I — thank you, for what your people did for my brother,” she said in a low voice, her eyes glowing with honest gratitude.

  Anna blinked, confused.

  “My people — oh. Oh, right.” She hesitated. “I’m — I’m not a Faerie, or whatever. Just someone who they brought through. I guess I’m a Changeling?” Was that right? Or did a Changeling need to stay with them longer than the few minutes she’d spent in their strange company?

  “Oh!” Emily laughed, a pleasant little sound. “My apologies. You look — well, you’re a beautiful woman, and your voice is a little different, I thought — well. You’re most welcome, regardless.”

  “What did they do for your brother?” Anna asked, curious. It was worth doing some research into these so-called faeries. After all, they were apparently her benefactors. In her world, faeries were benign at best, tricksters at worst. She still hadn’t completely given up on the idea that this whole transportation was some kind of elaborate joke.

  “Healed him, ma’am,” Emily said simply. “When he was a wee child, he fell so sick that everyone in the village swore he wouldn’t see another sunrise. My mother put out a dish of milk and said a prayer to the Fair Folk that they’d spare his life. In the night, there was a great wind that woke us all. In the morning, his fever had broken. He told us he saw tall, glowing figures standing around his bed, speaking to him in Gaelic — but my mother was at his bedside the whole night, keeping vigil, and she didn’t see a thing.”

  Anna listened to the story, rapt despite herself. Part of her mind kept seeking a scientific explanation — medical science wasn’t great in the sixteenth century, the doctors may have gotten it wrong, the boy could’ve scraped through for all kinds of reasons — but the detail of the tall, glowing figures resonated too strongly with what she’d experienced to be discounted. It seemed the faeries from Loch Ness helped the people of the village semi-regularly. “Were you working here then?”

  “Oh, no. But when he woke up well again, I marched straight up here to offer my services.” The girl smiled. “The people of the village… they don’t believe as strongly as they used to in the Fair Folk. There’s been less and less stories like mine of late, and a lot of them think it’s just silly superstition. Especially the more religious folk. But I don’t have to believe, because I know they’re real.” The girl smiled — then blushed prettily, her little face coloring. “Oh, ma’am, I’ve talked your poor ear off. Please — I’ve brought you some breakfast. Lady Maeve was sayin’ you haven’t eaten since before dinner last night.”

  “Very kind. Thank you, Emily,” Anna said warmly. The girl bobbed another little curtsey and scurried away, still smiling. An interesting insight, Anna reflected — but further ruminations could wait until she’d eaten. There was a bowl of what looked like oatmeal, scattered with dry fruit. A simple meal — but for Anna, who often skipped breakfast entirely, it was hearty fare indeed. She sat down at the table and set about demolishing the porridge. Maeve was right — it had certainly been a long time since her dinner the night before in her little apartment a thousand miles and hundreds of years away. Did time travel make you hungry, she wondered — then giggled to herself, nearly choking on a raisin. This was delicious. She made a note to thank Maeve for sending her breakfast. Food was something that she often forgot, but even this simple meal felt like it was filling up her engines with fuel. On a breakfast like this, she thought to herself, she could probably take over the world.

  And maybe she’d have to. After all, from even her brief experience last night, it seemed that women weren’t treated with a lot of respect around here. Well, she could change that in a few weeks. A few days, if she really put her mind to it. She wondered if the women of the castle — women like the sweet young Emily — knew how to defend themselves. Did women ever learn to fight around here? From her studies, she knew it wasn’t unusual to encounter female warriors, but it varied sharply by area, and she was hardly an expert in Scotland. Medieval martial arts, maybe — that was a subject she’d read more than a few books about — but nothing specific about Scotland.

  Was that a good way to spend her first day here? She had to admit — she was itching to find out more about the castle. She wanted to walk the length and breadth of it, get a real sense of its size and proportions — and ideally have a few more chats with the locals. Even the brief story Emily had told her about her own experiences with the Fae had been illuminating, and she wanted to collect more stories like that, get more insights from the regular people of the castle about what the Fair Folk were. Maybe if she gathered enough information, she’d find a clue that would help her get home. God, if she could work out a way to move back and forth between this time and her own… well, for a start she’d have to be careful. She knew more than a few guys in her chapter of the SCA who’d happily murder dozens of people for the chance to visit a place like this even for a second.

  These rather grim reflections were interrupted by a gentle tapping at the door. Anna looked up, confused — had Emily forgotten something? — then smiled widely as Maeve revealed herself. The woman was wearing a similar dress to the one she’d been wearing the day before, with only the color changing a little. This one was a sunshiney yellow that made Anna feel warm just looking at it.

  “Emily was right — you are an early riser.” Maeve chuckled. “You didn’t want to sleep anymore?”

  “I’m on Army time still,” Anna admitted with a sheepish grin. “Besides, you’re up too.”

  “Oh, I don’t sleep much,” Maeve said. “Plus, I tend to take catnaps in the afternoon if the mood strikes me. What was that about the Army?”

  “I’m a soldier,” Anna explained, and Maeve’s eyes widened.

  “A woman soldier?” Well, there was an answer for her on how common women warriors were around here. Anna nodded, not really wanting to get into an argument about where a woman’s place was — but Maeve just smiled. “I can picture you on the battlefield. Your enemies would think twice about tangling with you, I’d imagine. So, you’ve trained with swords?”

  Anna laughed. How could she answer that? “Yes, I have,” she admitted, “but — not professionally. The Army doesn’t use swords anymore. I studied them … well, for fun.”

  “Well.” Maeve looked thoughtful. “The future certainly sounds strange.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “I was thinking you might like to have a walk around the castle, if you don’t plan to get any more sleep. I’m more than happy to be your guide. I know a few things about the place, after all, and I can stop you from getting lost in the dungeons.” Her silver eyes gleamed, and Anna gasped.

  “There are dungeons?”

  “Oh, yes. Down in the deep, dark, dripping depths of the castle…”

  “Lead the way, Maeve.” Anna bounced to her feet, a broad grin on her face. Her first day in the castle was shaping up to be quite an exciting one. She could almost forget the little voice in the back of her head that was still wailing with confusion and dismay at the complete absurdity of what was happening to her. A tour of a medieval castle from a woman who was raised by faeries? Well, why not? It was that or sit in her room and brood. And Anna was a firm believer in action.

  Chapter 16

  The castle felt lighter in the daytime. The stone of the walls was still dark, and she was never given a chance to forget that they were surrounded on all sides by dark water, but with the sun filterin
g through each narrow window, there was much more of a sense of light and life to the place. Anna followed on Maeve’s heels, the women setting a slow, meandering place as they wandered around the building. Maeve was a patient tour guide, letting her stop and stare at each individual feature.

  “I think we should start downstairs and work our way up to the roof,” Maeve said, and Anna was happy to agree. This approach would give her a good sense of the castle and its layout — as it was, she was getting confused about which floor she was on, how far she was from the roof.

  So, they wound their way down one of the spiral staircases. There were ten in total, Maeve explained — four emerging from the main foyer, and six more dotted around the walls. Because they were so narrow, it helped to have a few to avoid congestion at key times. Mealtimes, for example, could get rather busy. The porridge Anna had had was sitting very nicely in her stomach, but a part of her was looking forward to dining with everyone else the next morning. The huge dining hall at the end of the kitchen was intriguing.

  But Maeve led them out into the courtyard to begin with. With the sun up and her surroundings properly illuminated, Anna couldn’t help but gasp. Castle Urquhart was certainly built in a beautiful part of the country. Even over the walls that surrounded the castle and the courtyard, she could see the rolling hills of Scotland out over the horizon, a dull haze of purple touching them.

  The view from the tops of the walls must be beautiful, she thought, peering up at where a handful of guards were stationed staring out over the lake. The courtyard was a good size — they walked around it, following around the inside of the wall that ringed the castle. It was possible to walk all around the castle, but toward the back the space between the outer wall and the castle wall grew quite narrow.

  “Have you ever held off an attack here?” Anna asked, her eyes wide.

  Maeve nodded, looking solemn.

  “More than a few times. The Fae aren’t all friendly, unfortunately, and more than a few times we’ve had to hold off attackers who came from where you did.”

  “What about the Loch Ness Monster? Didn’t she help?” Anna almost felt like she was making a joke as she said it — like Maeve was going to laugh at her for being so daft. But the woman only nodded, as though she were simply enquiring after a guard dog.

  “Oh, aye. She helps keep us safe — and sounds the alarm to Maggie when the attackers go for the village instead.”

  “So, you defend the whole area? Or, just this castle?”

  “Just this castle,” Maeve said. “Once there were more of us, but lately the villagers chafe at supporting us. They’re beginning to believe that faeries are just old wives’ tales.”

  Anna felt a pang of guilt at that. A good part of her was still desperate to believe that to be the case, as well. As for what she actually believed… well, the jury was still out. Clearly, she needed more time to process everything that had happened. And touring a castle was a pretty good way of passing the time, as far as she was concerned.

  “Can we go and have a look at the view from the walls?” she asked as she caught up to Maeve.

  The woman shook her head, explaining that the guards didn’t like women on the walls.

  Anna bristled, and resolved to ask Donal — or perhaps Brendan — to take her up there instead. If they turned her down, she’d just go by herself.

  They moved inside, now, up the few steps to the great front doors. During the day, these were open, and Anna admired them as she and her companion moved through into the inner foyer. Servants moved back and forth, a group of them in particularly headed for the kitchens, and Maeve glanced around the entrance hall.

  “This you’ve seen. The dining hall, I don’t think you have?”

  The hall was beautiful — and must have seated at least a hundred people at a time, Anna thought, taking it all in. There were about half a dozen great long tables, each with a long pew at each side — she could picture the tables, crowded with people eating and drinking and carousing. Over to the far side of the hall, she could see a little raised stage, and an empty space in front of it — a dance floor, she realized with a grin, and a stage for a live band to play. Maeve followed the direction of her eyes and smiled.

  “We throw pretty good parties at Castle Urquhart,” she confided, her eyes twinkling. “We get cases of whiskey at a steep discount from the distillery nearby, and we’ve got plenty of spare rooms for guests to collapse in when they’re tired of dancing.”

  Anna laughed. “When’s the next one?” She’d always loved bourbon — one of her dad’s favorite drinks. Scotch whiskey, she knew, was similar — but not quite the same. She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

  “I’m not sure, honestly,” Maeve admitted, leading her through to the kitchens. “Donal isn’t so fond of parties as his predecessor was. He’s worried about the locals taking him seriously, I think, and doesn’t want to give off the impression that he only cares about parties and celebrations.”

  Anna nodded. “Smart.” Leadership was difficult. So many things could go wrong, and it was so easy to get a bad reputation among your subordinates. She didn’t envy the guy. She could have pursued leadership roles in the military, she knew — they were certainly keen to get more women involved in the chain of command, and she was a good and reliable soldier — but there was too much pressure, as far as she was concerned. It had never been something she’d wanted.

  The kitchens were busy — servants running this way and that as they prepared for lunch — and Maeve smiled apology as she closed the door. “You’ve seen the kitchen, anyway. Let’s leave them to it.” As they left, Maeve spotted Emily, the girl who’d brought her breakfast and gave her a little wave. The girl beamed back, clearly pleased that their guest had recognized her, and Anna chuckled a little to herself as she saw the girl’s friends start interrogating her.

  “You’re something of a celebrity around here,” Maeve told her, smiling, as they climbed the spiral staircase to explore the first floor of the castle. “It’s not often that we get people coming through the burgh to stay with us. They’ll have all kinds of questions for you — once they work up the courage to speak to you, of course.”

  “I’m not scary!” Anna objected — but she understood the castle staff being a little intimidated. She would have been, too, if someone had been transported through space and time to visit her in her home.

  So, they spent the rest of the morning, moving up through the castle floor by floor. Anna was mostly fascinated by the defensive elements of the castle — the narrow windows, which allowed arrows to be fired through them without presenting too much of a target for attackers from the ground. She was very interested in the armory, which they moved past rather quickly — a huge room on the second floor, with multiple doors that entered into it. She got the idea that Maeve wasn’t especially thrilled by the armory. The woman stood by the door, not walking through the space as she had in the dining hall with Anna, and she gave fairly short answers to Anna’s questions. It was fairly clear that she wanted to move on as soon as possible, and Anna wasn’t willing to alienate her hostess, a woman who’d been so kind to her. So, she gave a suit of armor one last lingering glance — then headed out the door with Maeve.

  Maybe she’d get Donal to show her around the armory, too, she thought with a little smile. He’d know a lot more about the weapons and armor than Maeve did, anyway, and besides — she wouldn’t mind getting a little more time in with the guy. He was condescending and rude and clearly needed to get his gender politics in order, but nevertheless… something about him just made her like him. It helped that he was unbelievably good looking, of course. But it wasn’t just that. She got the sense that he was a good man, deep down where it counted. And Anna had always trusted that gut instinct she had about people. Intuition was rarely wrong. Besides, he’d saved her life. That counted for something.

  They continued up the stairs throughout the castle, Maeve chatting away about the planning of it, the long, slow process
of building it — multiple years, it had taken, according to the histories — and the effort that had been required to move in. Prior to the castle, the protectors of the village had just used a large building in town as their headquarters and had lived in individual houses throughout the village. Now that they were all together in the castle, it was a lot easier to get work done. Maeve showed her through various strange and fascinated rooms — entire areas dedicated to storing and experimenting with herbs, huge libraries of dusty old books, big flat workspaces where occultists in dark robes hurried back and forth, giving their guests a suspicious look. Anna took note of where the occultists worked — she had a few questions to ask. But first she wanted to get her theories straight, and that would take a few more days of careful thinking.

  Finally, when the sun was high in the sky, they got to the part Anna had been looking forward to the most. Maeve led her up one final flight of spiraling stairs, then opened a door at the top — and though she’d been expecting it, Anna couldn’t help but gasp in surprise at the view. There they stood on the very top of one of the four turrets that jutted out from the roof of the castle — she could see the other three from where she stood. It was an incredible view. Without a wall or gate in the way, and with the bright sunshine beaming down, she could see for miles in every direction. There was the Loch itself, enormous and dark — she scanned its choppy surface, searching for some glimpse of the Loch Ness Monster (it was still so hard to believe that that had been what had saved her life the night before… she craved visual confirmation of the creature.) And beyond the lake, the rolling hills, decorated with occasional groups of trees, stretching off toward the horizon.