Entwined

by Elizabeth Marshall

  CHAPTER 29

  Before he had an opportunity to object further, Duncan found himself heading in the direction of the main house; across the old cobbled courtyard and through the gate to the stables, stumbling occasionally on exposed roots and fallen debris. They hid themselves under the cover of the old wood store.

  On first glance it appeared as if the occupant of the property had taken herself to bed, but the shadow of a figure, seen through the small landing window, told him that someone was still awake. He turned to Eilidh in the shadows.

  “Did you see her?”

  She nodded.

  They both ducked back against the wall of the house. Amber crouched beside Eilidh, a menacing low growl rumbling through her bared teeth.

  “Shh, Amber,” Eilidh breathed, dropping beside the dog and stroking her back reassuringly.

  “What are we going to do now?” Eilidh asked.

  “We can’t risk going into the house until she is asleep. Thing is, I have a nasty feeling it’s fast approaching midnight,” Duncan whispered anxiously.

  “I have an idea. Follow me,” Eilidh said, tugging gently on Duncan arm. “Amber, come girl.”

  She led them away from the house and across the gravel path towards the banks of the stream in which they had played when they were children.

  “What are you doing?” Duncan whispered.

  “Taking us somewhere no one will find us,” she said, sliding down the bank on her heels.

  Duncan grabbed Amber’s collar as she spotted a rabbit and attempted to give chase.

  “No girl, not now,” he warned her sternly, keeping a firm grip on the collar.

  So little had the landscape changed in three hundred years that Eilidh and Duncan navigated the path along the river as though it were only yesterday since they had last walked it.

  When eventually they had travelled far enough to be out of earshot of the house Duncan pulled Eilidh to a halt. “What are you doing? It will be midnight soon. We’ll never make it back in time.”

  Eilidh threw herself on the ground and lay in the overgrown frozen foliage staring up at the moonlit sky. A million stars twinkled and glistened above them, like diamonds on black velvet. She stared for a moment before turning her head towards Duncan and patting the ground beside her.

  “Come, sit by me,” she said, pushing herself up. “No, not you Amber.”

  Eilidh nudged the dog forwards.

  “Have you taken leave of your senses, Eilidh? It can’t be much off midnight.”

  “I know,” she said, allowing Amber to rest her head gently in her lap.

  “Then what are you doing?” Duncan asked, coming to sit beside her.

  She turned and pointed behind them. A heavily overgrown bank rose steeply away from the river.

  “Do you remember when we were little? We dug a hole in the hillside and covered the entrance with twigs and other random foliage.”

  “And when Shannon was tormenting us, or we didn’t want our parents to find us, we used to hide in it,” Duncan said, lifting the edge of his mouth in a knowing grin. “You are brilliant, Eilidh. Do you know that?”

  “Forget your bolthole in the main house. I think we should wait here, then when midnight has come and gone we can uncover the hole and hide in it. When the sun sets and the farm falls quiet we can leave without anyone ever knowing we were here.”

  “I had forgotten about our hideaway,” Duncan said quietly. “Do you think we will still fit in it?”

  “It’ll probably be a bit of a squeeze, but I dare say we will manage.”

  Duncan fell silent, his eyes wondering out to the hills before them.

  “We had some good times, when we were kids. Didn’t we?”

  “Aye, my old friend, we did,” Eilidh said, following his stare.

  They were quiet for a while, there on the bank of the river they knew so well, staring out at the hills and fields.

  “Do you ever wonder how a place like this can remain unchanged for so long?” Eilidh asked eventually.

  “I can’t say I had given it much thought until now. I do miss it though.”

  “I miss it too,” Eilidh sighed, grabbing Amber’s collar as a rat scurried past them.

  “I don’t miss them,” Duncan said, nodding in the direction of the rat’s path.

  “No, nor do I. Filthy little creatures they are.”

  “I suppose we are going to have to get used to them again,” Duncan said.

  “We’ve lived with them before, it won’t be too difficult to do so again,” Eilidh replied.

  “Tell me about it, Eilidh?”

  “About what?” she asked.

  “Magic,” Duncan replied, trying to make sense of his meeting with the Stag.

  “That’s a big subject to cover in so short a time.”

  “Then just tell me about the village and how it came to be?” he said, lifting his eyes to the sky and wondering if Eilidh would believe him were he to tell her what he knew of the Stag.

  Eilidh sighed and readjusted Amber’s head on her thigh. The dog wasn’t a puppy any longer but Amber seemed to be the only one who hadn’t noticed the fact.

  “In the aftermath of the massacre a few surviving MacDonalds migrated north west, into the Highlands, looking for a new place to rebuild their lives. Eventually, after many months, they stumbled upon an uninhabited area of land. There they settled and for a time they flourished.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “Some of their old enemies found them.”

  “Do you mean the Redcoats?”

  Eilidh shook her head.

  “No, this time it wasn’t the Redcoats.”

  “Then who were their enemies?”

  “Family.”

  “Their family? But why?”

  “Because, most of the survivors of the massacre were immortal.”

  “How did that make family their enemy?”

  “For the same reason that Angus became your enemy,” she said simply.

  “So this all started with family rivalry?”

  “It did, and as time went on other Highlanders seeking refuge from family feuds found their way to the Village, and so the community grew.”

  “What about the crystals and the heather?”

  “Highland Heather has always been a protector of its people.”

  “Then why doesn’t every Scot carry some?”

  “Because not every Scot believes.”

  “So you have to believe in it for it to work?” he asked, creasing his brow in a frown.

  “Not believe - trust,” Eilidh said, shivering as the cold wind blew over them.

  “And the crystals? Are all crystals portals to time travel?”

  Eilidh laughed a gentle, sweet laugh, the kind that warmed the air and lifted the spirits of those that heard it.

  “No, Duncan. Not all crystals can be used for time travel. The crystals we have are called Campbell Crystals. They are endowed with charms - magic. They can only be created by the Stag, and perhaps one day by your little brother, but, honestly, I think their loss to the Highlands would be a good thing,” she paused, bowing her head to stare at the ground. “Too much damage has been caused by their use. They are dangerous and too easily used with ill intent.”

  “Will the heather lose its magic when the Stag dies?” Duncan asked thoughtfully.

  Eilidh shook her head slowly.

  “No. Highland Heather will always protect our people and the crystals will retain some of their charms, but not enough to be used like we have been using them.”

  “When we return - you know, to our own time, will we age?”

  “Aye, Duncan, we will and so will the villagers. Until now, those born with the gift of immortality only age to eighteen. Those gifted with it in later life have ceased to age. From midnight tonight we will all age as mortals.”

  “Are you and I aging now?” he asked turning his look to the gentle outline of her face and her eyes as they glistened in the moonlight.

&nb
sp; “We are, and so did Giorsal and Jessie for the twenty years they were out of the village. The Stag long since lost the strength to protect those away from him.”

  “So my Ma and Pa will have aged in the past six months too?”

  She nodded. “Aye, but not as much as ordinary people do. We all still carry a small part of the charm, the magic bestowed upon us by the Stag,” she paused and rubbed her head, as if to shift a headache. “To be honest, Duncan, even the villagers that are still in the village have been slowly aging over the past few years. The Stag no longer has the strength it did.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “The Stag?”

  “Aye.”

  “It was attacked.”

  “By the Dark Circle?”

  “Well, it wasn’t always the Dark Circle. They grouped later, much later, but essentially it was their leader - a man called Brody - who went after the Stag. He caught it and took a broadsword to it, but before he could sever its head the Stag rose up and fled into the mountains.”

  “What became of Brody?” Duncan asked, staring wide eyed at Eilidh.

  “He eventually went on to form the Dark Circle, but only after he had spent a great deal of time trying to kill the Stag.”

  “And the Stag?”

  “It fled to our village to die,” she said, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her top. “The poor creature has given everything to protect us. It has hung onto life, waiting for the child to be born so that it could die knowing its people would be safe.”

  “How do you know all this?” Duncan asked, wondering if the Stag had visited Eilidh too.

  “Mostly from Marta. The Stag spoke to her often of things to come. Graham’s father was a diviner. He also provided us with a lot of the information.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes staring down at the river below them. The moon glistened on the water, partially frozen in parts and gently running in others.

  “Do you suppose Marta and the Stag could be wrong?”

  “They could be,” Eilidh replied softly, “but I hope they weren’t.”

  “What do you think will happen if they are?”

  “We will die, either when we are thrown back in time or at the stroke of midnight,” she replied simply.

  Duncan considered her comment for a moment.

  “Then let’s just hope they weren’t wrong, because if I have a choice I would much prefer a life with rats than no life at all.”

  “Aye, Duncan, let us hope.”

  He turned to her, his face little more than a dark outline against the night sky.

  “On the small, outside chance that Marta is wrong, just as a precautionary measure, of course, would you mind if I did something?”

  Eilidh met his look, her eyes locked on his. She shivered a little in the cold air and slipped her hands inside the sleeve of Duncan’s coat.

  “What would you like to do?”

  “I would like to kiss you, if you wouldn’t mind, too much.”

  She smiled a gentle, sweet smile. “I wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, I think I might rather like it.”

  He leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers. She reached down and lifted Amber’s head from her lap and turned to kneel in front of him. His arms encircled her waist and drew her towards him. Eilidh put one arm around Duncan and reached down for Amber’s collar with the other. With a firm grip on the dog’s collar and her arms around Duncan she closed her eyes and felt the tender touch of his mouth on hers. She had waited so long for this moment, dreamed and prayed that it would one day come and now that it had she surrendered herself to the moment. All that mattered was the here and now. The feel of his arms around her, the solid wall of muscle against her breast, his thighs taut and hard against the softness of her legs. She quivered and he tightened his hold, supporting her against him. He didn’t care what was to come, he didn’t fear for the future. His only thought was for the softness of the woman in his arms, the smell of lavender in her hair, the sweet taste of honey in her mouth and the gentle curves of her body. He had never understood love, never felt its passion, until that moment when he realized, without a shadow of doubt, that he loved this woman more than life itself.

  A cold wind whipped up around them, blowing ever harder and harder. She clung to Duncan and the dog as the air began to circle them. Faster and faster it whirled, as time unraveled around them until they could see no more but a hazy blur, the misty outline of what had been. Dizzy and disoriented Eilidh fell against Duncan, losing hold of Amber’s collar as she did. Unable to support her any longer, Duncan, too, collapsed. They both fell to the ground and lay, unresponsive in an ever increasing vortex, until eventually the swirl calmed and the air warmed. The night sky disappeared and in its place beamed a warm summer sun.

  ******

  CHAPTER 30

  Ellem - August 1716

  The dog staggered to her feet her eyes dazed and unfocused. She stumbled to Eilidh’s side, gently nuzzling her nose against her mistress’s.

  “Get your tail out of my face,” Duncan moaned, lifting his hand to swat away the nuisance.

  Eilidh’s eyes flickered and she lifted her hand weakly to rest on her forehead.

  “Not now, Amber,” she said, turning her face away from the dog’s cold nose.

  Duncan pushed himself up from the ground.

  “Come on, Eilidh, we need to get into the hole,” he said, reaching down and pulling her to her feet.

  “My head’s banging,” she said, swaying slightly. Duncan steadied her against him. “How long have we been lying there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can you tell what year it is?” Eilidh said, squinting against the sunlight.

  “I haven’t got a clue, but if I were a betting man, I’d say we were in the 18th century.”

  “Well we aren’t dead.”

  “No Eilidh, I don’t think we are,” Duncan said, smiling down at her. “But we might not be alive for much longer if we don’t get out of sight.”

  “Can you remember where it is?”

  “Vaguely,” Duncan replied, turning to his left and making his way a few steps upstream.

  It didn’t take them long to find the hole and, although a little overgrown, it was much as they had left it. A small hollow burrowed into the hillside.

  “Are you sure we are going to fit in here?” Duncan said, drawing his knees up high under his chin to make enough space for Eilidh and Amber.

  “I think so,” replied Eilidh, squeezing into the hollow beside him.

  “At this moment I wish you had a smaller dog,” Duncan groaned. “Get your tail out of my face, Amber,” he said, once again swatting the tail from his face.

  “She can’t help it,” Eilidh said, trying unsuccessfully to cross her legs, and instead drawing them up tightly against her chest.

  “How long did you say we should wait in here?”

  “I did think we should wait until tonight, but I’m not so sure now.”

  “The air feels like mid-summer,” Duncan said, trying to take a deep breath in the confined space.

  “Which means it won’t be dark for hours.”

  “If you don’t mind too much, Eilidh, I don’t think I can spend hours in here.”

  “I agree. Any ideas on what we can do?” she asked, still massaging her forehead.

  “Have you still got a headache?”

  “I never time travel well. It will pass in a few hours.”

  “Do you feel strong enough to make a run for it?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I thought about going out into the woods. You know the shelter we used to play in?”

  Eilidh nodded, “Aye, I remember it. Wasn’t it built as a bolthole in case the Redcoats ever came this way?”

  “It was, but I don’t remember it ever being used. All I recall of the place was the three of us playing in it.”

  “Which means it’s somewhere Shannon is likely to look for us,” Eilidh said. />
  “Unfortunately, Eilidh, you are right, and that is why I’ve discarded the idea.”

  “Any other thoughts?” she asked, hopefully.

  “Well actually we could head out into the hills until nightfall, then double back when the farm falls quiet.”

  “What if someone sees us?”

  “We’ll just have to be careful.”

  “Aren’t you curious to know what everyone is up to?”

  “Yes, I’m very curious, Eilidh, but not so much that I would risk our lives to satisfy it.”

  “I miss my parents,” she said, suddenly giving Amber’s fur a quick ruffle with her hand. “Do you suppose someone buried them?”

  “I am sure they were buried, Eilidh, but we can’t risk finding out. I’m sorry,” he said, gently reaching over the dog and taking her hand in his.

  “How long do you suppose we are going to survive out here?”

  “As long as it takes, Eilidh, as long as it takes.”

  “I might be able to make our lives a little easier,” she said, looking up at him with her big round eyes.

  “And how would that be?”

  “My Pa buried a tin outside our cottage. I remember it because we did it together. He said I wasn’t to mention it to another living soul. It was the money your Pa paid him to build the big house when they first came here. Pa kept the tin in the house, adding the odd bit to it here and there, but then one day he noticed some of the money had gone missing. He thought I had taken it at first, but then… oh, it doesn’t really matter who took it, but he decided to bury it.”

  “And you think the money is still there?”

  Eilidh nodded. “Aye, I’m sure it is still there because he only buried it a few days before Angus came to the farm.”

  “I’m not sure it’s worth the risk, Eilidh,” Duncan said, tapping his fingers on his bent knees.

  “Why not? You said yourself that we will have to double back from the hills to go south.”

  “But going into the heart of the farm? Eilidh, it’s just too risky. We don’t know where Shannon is, we don’t even know who is left on the farm.”

  “Without it, Duncan, we don’t stand a chance,” Eilidh said, frankly.

  “We’ll manage.”

  “No, Duncan, we won’t. We haven’t a penny to our names.”