The Key to Her Past

by Dabney, Blanche

  “Maybe I will,” the captain called back to her. “Farewell.” He waved as the wind caught and they began to move further out onto the water.

  Natalie walked to the stern of the ship, looking out at the water, seeing the pursuing army on the horizon. Had they been spotted? She hoped not.

  She turned away, refusing to look. She had not had a single moment to catch her breath since she arrived here. She had made a mistake coming here. It was a mistake to wish to see the past. The present was dull but at least it was safe.

  Wallace had disappeared inside. The captain was at the helm and she joined him.

  “Was that your love?” she asked.

  “It is a tale I will tell someday if we make it through all this,” he replied. “For now, you should be thinking of your own tale. How is that going to end?”

  “I’m going to go home,” she replied. “If I can ever get there.”

  “Is he going to go with you?” He nodded toward the cabin.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what he wants.”

  The captain lowered his voice. “I’m going to share something with you that I want you to keep to yourself.”

  “I already know your name’s Colin.”

  “Not that. How much do you know about the MacGregor curse?”

  She shrugged. “Not much.”

  “Jock MacGregor was held in chains in the MacCallister dungeon by a curse so strong it could never be broken. Until Wallace came along. He freed his father but enslaved himself.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Aye. He was bound in those chains until he could find someone to take his place. Then you appear and what does that tell you about why he’s shut himself away in the cabin?”

  “What are you telling me?”

  “That you might want to watch him carefully around dungeons lest you find yourself bound in accursed chains with no way of escaping them.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I’ve spent a spell or two in MacCallister Castle. They talk so loudly there I’m surprised the mountaintops don’t hear the tales. Everyone knew about the curse and that they had a MacGregor in their dungeon.”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust him?”

  “I’m saying you must decide who he is and who you are like I had to decide who I was. Colin Peabody the bean farmer or captain of my own ship. Don’t let his words fool you. It is only what he feels in his heart that has kept you safe up to now. The lairds of the highlands are cruel and cold and yet here you are, keeping company with one as content as anything. You happy?”

  “I wouldn’t say I was happy.”

  “Nor is he.”

  The cabin door opened and Wallace emerged. If he’d been listening to their conversation, he made no reference to it when he spoke.

  “I ken what we must do,” he said. “I have made my decision.”

  12

  “Your decision will have to wait,” the captain said, running over to the main mast and starting to slacken off a rope. “They have spotted us.”

  Wallace looked behind the ship. Four dots on the horizon, growing larger. “How far to the mainland?” he asked.

  “Half an hour.”

  “How long until they overrun us?” Natalie asked.

  “Half an hour.”

  “Then it’ll be close.”

  “Wallace, pull that rope there. Natalie, grab the rudder and turn us starboard.”

  “Huh?”

  “Right, turn the rudder left so we go right.”

  The ship began to cut faster through the water as the sails were adjusted. “Now what?” Natalie asked.

  “Now we stay the course,” the captain replied. “I will do the rest.” He came over and took the helm, leaving Natalie to look worriedly behind her at the pursuing ships.

  “Come,” Wallace said, taking her arm, surprised by how good it felt to do so. “It will do no good watching.”

  “Why aren’t you scared?” she asked as he led her slowly toward the cabin.

  “They will either reach us or they won’t,” he replied. “Now sit down and drink this.” He held out the whisky bottle. “It will do you some good.”

  “How’s your wound?”

  He lifted the ragged remains of his tunic, untying the rope that held the two cloths in place. Natalie looked at the wound and seemed pleased with what she saw.

  “What?” he asked. “Why do you smile?”

  “It is not infected,” she replied. “That’s about as much as I could hope for.”

  “Infected?”

  “Rotting. It’s not rotting. It will heal, if we can stay alive long enough.”

  She looked down at the floor, sighing heavily. He lifted her chin with his finger. “It will be all right,” he said. “I will get you home.”

  He hoped he sounded more certain than he felt. He had a horrible gnawing feeling that all this would be for nothing. He thought about telling her what he’d been thinking while he’d been alone in the cabin but decided against it. What good would it do?

  There was no point telling her how he felt about her. It would only cause pain when she went back to her own time and he returned to the chains that had bound him since childhood.

  He had decided he could not hand her or the key over to the barefoot man. Much as he wanted to be reunited with his father, he could not countenance the idea that she would have the pay the price for his desire.

  She, who was so innocent, had done nothing wrong since the moment they met. She did not deserve to be immured in this corrupt world in which he lived.

  She deserved to go back to her own time where she could be happy and safe.

  “Have you heard of the butterfly effect?” she asked out of nowhere.

  “No,” he replied. “Should I have?”

  “It’s the idea that going back in time and changing something can affect the present, that ripples spread out through seemingly insignificant acts and the consequences cannot be guessed at.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like say I throw that bottle over the side. It might be washed up onshore years from now and someone might stand on it. They might get an infected wound from the glass and die. Their children would then not be born and bingo, back in my time their descendant who was going to find a cure for cancer no longer exists.”

  “What’s cancer?”

  “Never mind. I just mean, I’ve been thinking-”

  “Me too,” he interrupted, realizing he was still holding her chin. He let go, sitting on the bench behind him and looking at her closely. “I’ve got something I must talk to you about.”

  “I think I know what you’re going to say,” she said with a sad smile.

  “Do you now?”

  “Don’t let’s talk about it yet, okay?”

  “Why not? The butterfly effect?”

  “Exactly. Who knows what it might lead to in my time. Who knows what I might already have changed. For all I know I’ve wiped out my whole country just by being here.”

  “Or you’ve saved it,” he replied, leaning toward her.

  “I think you should have this,” she said, passing him the key. “It’ll be safer with you.”

  “You keep it,” he replied, wrapping his hand around hers.

  The light was shining through the porthole, illuminating her face perfectly. She looked like an angel. He leaned further and realized he was about to kiss her when the captain’s voice called from outside. “Land ho! I could do with some help out here.”

  “Come on,” Natalie said, turning and pulling open the cabin door.

  Was she glad to escape him? What if he’d kissed her in that moment? Would her butterfly effect theory come into action, cause something bad to happen in her time as a consequence of his action?

  He found his head hurt if he thought about it too much. Better to let what was going to happen happen. He would focus on what he could do in the now.

  Stepping out into the open and seeing how close the pur
suing ships were, he knew what that was. He would fight to save her. “Have you a sword?” he asked the captain who was busy steering the ship toward the approaching shore.

  “Down in the hold.”

  Wallace retrieved it, testing it with some practice strokes. “Mind if I borrow it?”

  “Be my guest. Get ready. As soon as we reach land, you better run.”

  “Have you heard of the door in the rock?”

  “Aye.”

  “Where is it?”

  “South of where we’re landing. Top of a peak that looks like a running wolf.”

  “How far?”

  “No more than an hour or two. Why?”

  “I need to get there. We need to get there.”

  “I thought we were going back to the castle,” Natalie said, glancing back at the ships behind them, fear growing on her face. “How else am I getting home?”

  “We have to do something first,” he replied.

  “But you promised.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  She looked at the captain before answering. His face gave nothing away. “I do.”

  “Then trust me on this.”

  “Brace yourself,” the captain said. “I can’t risk the time to row to shore. I’m going to ground her.”

  “But you’ll destroy your ship.”

  “Maybe but if I don’t we’re all dead. Hold onto something.”

  The shoreline grew nearer until Wallace could make out individual trees just off the beach. He grabbed hold of Natalie with one hand and gripped the mast with the other.

  The ship rocked from side to side, scraping sounds growing louder underneath until there was a giant thump and then they ground to a halt. Only his strong grip kept them from falling.

  “Off you go,” the captain shouted.

  “Are you not coming with us?”

  “I make my own path,” he replied, waving them toward the port side of the ship. “Jump for it.”

  Natalie stood on the edge, looking down at the swirling water. “I’m not sure I can do this. What if there are rocks?”

  Wallace grabbed her, jumping a second later. She screamed and then they were under. He held his breath, pushing upward until they were both out of the foam, Natalie gasping and spluttering.

  “Swim,” he called, shoving her forward.

  He felt the arrow wound in his side sting as the salt water ate at the edges. Ignoring the pain, he kicked for the shore, Natalie in front of him.

  Glancing back as he reached the shallows he saw the pursuing ships closing in. They had only minutes before dozens of men would be coming for them.

  “Here,” the captain shouted as he swam after them. “You forgot this.”

  Wallace held out a hand and caught the sword by the hilt as it was tossed over to him. Then he was up on his feet with Natalie by his side. “Run,” he said.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We must reach the door in the rock. It is the only way to save the highlands from the barefoot man.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Pray you never find out.”

  They ran as fast as they could but Wallace was hampered by his lack of knowledge of the terrain. He took them along one track that petered out into a marsh and slowed their escape.

  In turning back and finding another route they ended up on the edge of a cliff with no discernable route down. All the while their pursuers were getting closer.

  “This way,” Wallace said as Natalie fought for breath behind him. He turned along the cliff edge until it gradually descended into a wide grassy valley.

  On the far side was a mountain topped by jagged rocks that looked exactly like the shape of a wolf mid run.

  “Up there,” he said, pointing toward the wolf’s tail. He took a step toward it and then stopped. From left and right armed men appeared, all of them slowing as they saw their prey standing together in the middle of the valley.

  Wallace lifted his sword as the men approached. “I will gut you all,” he cried, muttering to Natalie, “Stay behind me.”

  The men grinned, their faces as cruel as their weapons, swords glinting in the sunlight. Natalie clung onto him, her panicked breathing in his ear making him all the more determined to die protecting her.

  The men charged all at once.

  In their lack of coordination, they crashed together from left and right. Wallace swung wildly at any who got too close.

  “Stay with me,” he yelled over the noise. Groping behind him he felt for Natalie but she was not there. Where had she gone?

  “I must thank you,” a voice called out. At once the attacking men froze, turning as one to look in the direction of the voice.

  A man in a cowl was approaching, he had hold of Natalie, dragging her squirming form beside him. Wallace went to run at him but again the men swung their swords.

  He fought valiantly, slicing left and right as the figure in the distance spoke up again. Somehow, despite the roars of pain from those he felled, he could hear perfectly the conversation taking place.

  “She will take your place in the chains as we agreed,” the man in the cowl said. “You brought her all the way back to me and I am grateful. Now, girl. Give me the key.”

  Wallace felt something digging into the back of his waistband. He dipped his free hand behind him and then smiled.

  The men attacking him had stopped attacking at the sound of the word, “Key.” They were all looking the other way, craning for a look at the famous key their master had been so desperate to find.

  Wallace took his chance, slipping between them and quietly moving backward. None of them noticed, they were too entranced by what was happening over at the far side of the valley.

  “Where is the key? The man snapped. “Give it to me.”

  “I do not have it,” Natalie replied before she screamed, “Run Wallace!”

  He ran, sprinting up the side of the mountain and then dipping behind a huge boulder. When he peered out he could see the barefoot man’s army looking for him. None had spotted his escape yet.

  He could see Natalie being screamed at by the barefoot man. His demands for the key were becoming all the more violent.

  Wallace prayed the answer did indeed lie within the door in the rock. What had Scarlett told him? That he would find what he needed most in the world behind it. What could that be? His father? His clan? A dozen armed men to fight off that army down there?

  He slipped from rock to rock, keeping out of sight of the men in the valley. Soon he could no longer hear anything but the wind as he continued to climb, the mountainside becoming steeper and steeper until he was clambering up a sheer cliff.

  He reached up and stretched, jumping for the edge high above. He made it, just, his fingers catching and almost slipping but then finding a grip somewhere. He hauled himself up.

  There was the rock Scarlett must have meant. In the middle of it was a wooden door that looked completely out of place.

  He took out the key from his waistband. When had she sneaked it in there? He guessed while they were under attack. She was brave to think so clearly while in such danger.

  Sliding the key into the lock, he took a deep breath before turning it. He gasped at the sight on the other side.

  The door opened out into the middle of the valley. Right in front of him was Natalie, her back to him. The barefoot man was a few feet away, berating one of his men. “He has the key. He was right here. He can’t have gotten far. Find him or I will have your head left here for the wolves to enjoy.”

  He had only a second before the barefoot man turned and saw him. Leaning through the doorway he grabbed Natalie by the shoulder, yanking her backward through the door before she knew what was happening.

  The barefoot man spun around to find himself looking at the empty space where she had been standing just moments before. She was gone.

  13

  The barefoot man was glad he had personally come down from the castle. His initial thought had been to remain in t
he tower and let the key come to him.

  He had listened to the reports from his scouts, the messages on the pigeons coming in thick and fast while he worked out exactly where Wallace and Natalie had gone.

  He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. He just impatiently waited for news. Then the old hag casually dropped into the conversation that the two of them were hiding out on Knife Island. It was enough to make his blood boil. She couldn’t have told him that earlier?

  They had help that was making this whole thing one sided. It wasn’t fair for the balances to be tipped against him after so he had worked so hard and waited so patiently.

  It had taken it out of him to send Wallace’s spirit forward in time. It wasn’t something that could be conjured lightly out of the air. Dark magic like that was draining.

  It had been worth it to know that his chance was getting closer, that the key was getting closer. Soon his father would be free and together they would rule the world. Father and son.

  The churches would close. The abbeys would empty. There was little point praying to a faraway God in the sky when a God on earth was in charge. Even with the cheating fool attempting to help them, he was going to win.

  The excitement of the chase had got his heart pumping faster than it had in many years. He knew Wallace was having second thoughts about the deal.

  That could be the only reason why he wasn’t bringing Natalie and the key straight back to the castle. He wasn’t sure where they were planning to hide but they should have known better. As if anyone could hide from him. The very idea was ridiculous.

  The first time he set eyes on them both in the valley, he had to resist laughing. They had genuinely thought they could escape him.

  “I must thank you,” he said, calling across to Wallace. “She will take your place in the chains as we agreed. You brought her all the way back to me and I am grateful. Now, girl. Give me the key.”

  The men all watched him as he looked at her. She was pretty enough. Maybe he’d take her as his bride, have a child of his own. Imagine that. Three generations.

  The entire known world would tremble at his feet. He could hardly wait.

  She looked afraid. He liked that. “Where is the key? Give it to me.”