HIDDEN IN TIME

by Longley, Barbara

  The muscles along Aiden’s jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed to angry slits. Brian laughed again. “So predictable. Ye’ve never been able to control your temper. ’Tis one of your many flaws.”

  “I know what ye are about,” Aiden hissed as he stalked toward him.

  “Then ye also know I’ll not waste time on the likes of ye.” He continued to roll his shoulders and neck, while keeping a sharp eye on the coiled viper in front of him.

  As expected, Aiden let loose a roar and charged. His sword arced down, and Brian caught it with the edge of his blade. He twirled his sword around Aiden’s and directed his opponent’s blade downward. Brian pivoted. As momentum carried Aiden past, Brian planted his boot on the viper’s arse and shoved. Aiden went down, landing face first in the mud. Brian was on him the instant Aiden attempted to roll away. He flipped him over with his foot and stepped on Aiden’s sword arm at the wrist, pressing the tip of his own sword against the coward’s throat.

  Aiden stilled, and his eyes went wild with fear and loathing. The thrill of triumph thrummed through Brian. He drew the moment out for as long as he dared, finding the sweet taste of revenge intoxicating.

  This was as much for his father as it was for his friend. “For James and any other within our clan ye’ve wronged.” Brian brought the tip of his sword to Aiden’s cheek and cut him no more than the length of the tip of his thumb, but deep enough to leave a scar. Aideen would wear the reminder of his defeat for the rest of his life. “Ye are without honor, Aiden MacBlaine. Withdraw from the tournament.”

  Brian backed away. He turned and strode toward the edge of the ring. A cheer went up, suddenly turning to a warning cry. Brian whirled around to find Aiden almost upon him with his sword raised to strike. Stupid mistake. He should have disarmed the man. Brian ducked and plowed into him, shoulder first. They both went down. The fullness of his weight on top, Brian held him down as Aiden struggled to throw him off.

  Sloan and two other men ran into the ring. Brian’s father took both their swords out of reach, and the other two men grabbed hold of Aiden’s arms and held him down. “We have him, laddie. Get up now.” His da reached out a hand. Brian took it and pulled himself to his feet. Aiden was hauled up to standing, still gripped between the two men.

  “After this, none can doubt Aiden’s intent to cut my son was intentional,” Andrew shouted. “I recall there is a rule against striking an opponent after a bout is finished. To do so whilst the other man’s back is turned is beneath contempt. All present witnessed this man’s actions. I demand justice.”

  “Aye, there is such a rule.” Monroe, the chieftain of the upper village stepped forward. “The penalty is harsh, for such a lack of honor puts the very fabric of our clan’s society in peril.” He looked to the druids and to the other elders, each nodding their assent before he could pronounce Aiden’s sentence. “Ye are banned from ever again competing in a tournament, Aiden MacBlaine. Ye have proved yourself unfit.”

  “He was provoked,” Helen shouted. “Brian must be held accountable as well, for he baited my son.”

  “Brian is not responsible for your son’s inability to control his temper. When facing an enemy or whilst leading a village, a man must be able to keep a cool head. Taunting an opponent into behaving rashly is an accepted tactic,” Monroe answered. “’Tis clear to all the better man won.”

  At Monroe’s words, a roar of assent filled the clearing. Aiden seethed, and his face mottled with angry red blotches. He tore away from the men who held him and ran from the ring. Brian watched the coward leave, remembering how he’d knocked him into the river during the endurance test, and how he’d caused Ciaran to leave the competition. Brian could not let Aiden’s other transgressions go unaddressed.

  “Ciaran too suffered an injury by Aiden’s hand,” Brian called out as James and the druid returned to the center of the ring. His declaration was met agreement from the spectators. “Ceann Carraig, might we afford Ciaran the right to choose a champion as well? He’s able enough to participate in the archery contest, and mayhap with throwing a lance.”

  “For my part, nay,” Ciaran called, limping forward with a cane in hand. “I’ll have another go in future, and I’ve no desire to take on the role of chieftain. That bein’ said, our clan is well served by allowing James to continue.”

  Ciaran’s words came as a shock. Did Ciaran and others see James as the better choice as chieftain? Could it be the longstanding animosity between Aiden’s kin and his was viewed as a mark against him? The heat of shame rose to his face. He’d become ensnared in a trap of his own devising. His parents had let the matter go as best they could, but he’d kept the offense done to his father close to his heart and always in his thoughts. Maybe he, too, was unfit to lead.

  His heart and thoughts heavy, Brian left the ring and joined Grayce and his mother. He accepted his shirt from Grayce and pulled the linen over his head, pushing his arms through the sleeves. Next, she handed him his tunic.

  “What’s wrong?” She studied him. “You kicked Aiden’s ass, yet what I’m sensing from you isn’t exactly triumphant glee.”

  He shrugged into his tunic. “Defeating Aiden in the manner in which I did does not make me the better man.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, twenty-twenty hindsight sucks.”

  He had no idea what that meant, but he didn’t care to ask. Brian raked his fingers through his hair and released a breathy sigh. “Mayhap ’twould have been better if James had chosen someone else as his champion. Too much already festers between Aiden’s family and mine. Perhaps a man with more objectivity, a man who does not nurse a grudge and seek vengeance would make a better chieftain after all.”

  Grayce thrust his sword belt at him. She rolled her eyes and snorted. He was in no mood for guessing games. “What was that for?”

  “You know where I stand on the whole chieftain issue, and then you go and say something like that?”

  Baffled, he frowned. “Like what?”

  “Like a man who is objective and humble enough to be self-reflective. Only a good person would acknowledge where he went wrong. That kind of man would make an excellent leader, damn you.”

  He opened his mouth to retort, but none came. He wasn’t certain he agreed with her, yet he couldn’t deny a part of him wished to.

  “Listen.” She glanced around them, gripped his wrist, and tugged him a short distance away from the crowd. “You must know none of the remaining contestants are competing for the right to court me. Rebecca, maybe, but not me. They’re in this because they, too, want to become chieftain, especially Dylan and James.”

  “Why do ye think they don’t wish to court ye?”

  “It’s not that they don’t want to.” She shook her head impatiently. “I know this because not a single one of them has made any attempt to even talk to me. Since that first day, not one of them has followed me around with their hands full of wildflowers either.”

  “’Tis my fault.”

  “Yes, it’s entirely your fault.”

  “And that saddens ye.” By the goddess, his arrogance had once again gotten the better of him. He’d monopolized her time, staking his claim for all to see when the tournament wasn’t even half completed. “My deepest apologies. I shall remove my—”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Brian. What I’m trying to say is that everyone, and I mean everyone, can see we already have feelings for each other. The other men know courting me would be a waste of time. What I’m trying to get through to you is that these worthy men also feel as you do when it comes to leading na Baiscne through any perils to come.”

  “So?”

  “So, unconsciously or not, James has won everyone’s sympathy. And by toying with Aiden the way you did, you came across—”

  “As an arrogant, cocksure arse who not only wished to win, but also to humiliate.” By the goddess, hadn’t his father warned him to fight with integrity? He’d ignored that sage advice, as well as his da’s warning to be circumspect in his demonst
rative affection for Grayce.

  “Exactly, not to mention you broke your promise to quit taunting Aiden. Worse, you reminded everyone of the ongoing enmity between your two families.” Grayce gripped his hand in both of hers. “I can’t help but wonder if your friend James didn’t choose you as his champion knowing full well you’d make a show of the whole thing.”

  “Nay.” He scowled. “He would not.” Would he? Had he been manipulated, because like Aiden, he was predictable? He’d have a conversation with James in the very near future. “Did ye sense this?”

  “I didn’t need to; it’s obvious. Your dad told me strategy is a big part of this competition. Don’t you realize James had to know you threw away your bout with him? I’m sure he figured out you didn’t want to face Aiden in that ring. By choosing you, James made sure you and Aiden had to face each other exactly as you did. I think you may have just been outmaneuvered.”

  “That should make ye happy, aye? Ye do not wish me to become chieftain.”

  “True, I would prefer you not take on that burden, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you’re the best man for the job. I’m on your side, Brian.”

  “As always, ye’ve given me a great deal to think about with the promise of headache to follow.”

  “And once again you’re going to be surly with me.” She grinned up at him.

  “Aye, that I am.” Grinning back, he chucked her under the chin. He did have much to think about, not the least of which was Grayce’s admission that she had feelings for him. The sparkle had returned to her lovely eyes. He’d cling to that for now.

  “Brian.”

  “Aye, lassie?”

  “The thing between you and Aiden is not over.”

  “By the goddess I hope ye’re wrong. Mayhap he and his mother will move to one of the other villages and make a fresh start.”

  “Sure, that’ll happen.” She glanced toward the ring. “Looks like Ceann Carraig is ready to wrap things up.”

  “Aye, let us return so I can collect my medallion.” Placing his hand at the small of her back for all to see, Brian guided her back to his parents.

  She cared for him. Despite everything else that weighed upon his mind, he could think of nothing else. Holding her admission close, Brian pondered their shared future. He imagined Grayce holding their wee son in her arms, a contented smile lighting her features. Their home would be filled with love and laughter with the occasional argument providing them with opportunities to make up.

  Granting James the right to choose a champion for the events he couldn’t manage had been the right thing to do, and the council had once again demonstrated their wisdom. Now, if only he could think of a way to end what stood between him and Aiden, then all would be well. Grayce nudged him. “Aye?”

  “Don’t be too hard on James for strategizing where you’re concerned.” She cast him a pointed look. “And don’t be so cocky during the rest of the tournament. No more showboating.”

  He had no idea what it meant to showboat either, but he caught the gist of what she meant. Chuckling, he crossed his arms in front of him to keep from hauling her into his arms. He’d just been scolded by his future wife. He was already in love with Grayce MacCarthy, and she cared for him in return. Her caring was sure to grow into love, and that made him the luckiest man alive.

  Chapter Eight

  * * *

  It had been three days since she’d been handed the devastating news that she was here to stay. As painful as it was, Grayce needed to accept the facts. Boann would not be able to help her, and the fae involved in hiding these valleys no longer existed. As if performing some kind of symbolic ritual—the end of one way of life and the acceptance of another—she removed the rings and studs from her piercings, all except the bellybutton ring set with a garnet, which nobody else could see.

  Grayce put the jewelry away in a small wooden bowl she’d found in the loft where she slept. She added Brian’s medallions and placed the container on a small shelf next to her candle. She sent her thoughts out to her family, hoping they’d sense her message. She had resigned herself to her situation. She missed them like hell and always would, but she was alive and well, not to mention in love.

  Time to turn to more practical matters. Today was laundry day. She stripped the linens from her bed, bunched them together with her clothing and headed for the ladder. Today was also bath day, which meant hauling heated water to one of the two wooden tubs kept in a small building she had thought was a smokehouse. Nothing was easy about the business of living here, and she hadn’t yet found the sense of satisfaction Brianna had mentioned.

  “Laundry coming down,” she said before dropping her bundle. Then she climbed down the stairs, wearing her cargo pants and the shirt she’d worn the day she fell through, so she had a clean linen shift to wear after her bath. “Good morning, Brianna. Now that I have a few gowns of my own, I can return yours once they’re washed.”

  “Keep them, Grayce. We’ve hemmed them for you, and I own plenty.” Brianna smiled, and her brow rose slightly as she studied her. Still, she said nothing about the missing rings and studs.

  “Sloan and Brian started the water heating out back for us before they left to cut hay. We’ll get to work right after breakfast.” Brianna set two bowls of oatmeal on the table. The teapot and mugs were already there. “With your help, things will go much quicker.”

  Grayce filled two mugs with tea and took a seat. “I’d like to take a bath today if that’s all right. Also, I need to know what women here do when it’s that time of the month. I need to prepare.”

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry I hadn’t thought to talk to you about that before. We can gather what you need this afternoon. We mostly use pads of felted wool, which is plentiful, and sometimes dried moss, both wrapped in linen.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. Will you teach me how to make bread this week?” Grayce stirred her oatmeal before scooping up a mouthful with her wooden spoon. “I also need to learn how to cook over an open fire.”

  Brianna nodded, and they ate in companionable silence. After cleaning up, Grayce gathered her pile of laundry and followed Briana to the backyard. There she learned how to do laundry without electricity and using wooden paddles instead of a washing machine. She occupied her mind by inventing improvements to the current methods, like mechanized, wind- driven paddles, or at least some kind of piping system to move water. As Grayce hung the last sheet to dry, a call came to them from the front of the cottage.

  Brianna straightened from stoking the fire beneath their heating bath water. “Back here,” she called. Then she grinned. “You’re about to meet Brian’s grandfather.”

  An older man strode around the corner. His silver hair was thick and wavy, and his handsome features were deeply creased. Like Sloan and Brian, he was fit and vigorous enough that it was difficult to tell exactly how old he might be.

  He exuded friendly curiosity and intelligence. “Good day to ye, daughter.” He swept Brianna up in a bearhug, his sharp blue eyes fixed upon Grayce. “And you must be Grayce,” he said, putting Brianna down. “We’ve been hearing quite a bit about ye.”

  “Sloan and I were wondering when you’d come.” Brianna turned to her. “This is Braedan. Dad, this is Grayce MacCarthy. She’s been staying with us since she came through.”

  “’Tis glad I am to meet ye at last.” He took one of her hands. “Ye and my grandson are getting on quite well, aye?”

  “Um, sure. It’s nice to meet you too.” Grayce fought the urge to squirm under his steady scrutiny.

  “Where’s Beth?” Brianna asked.

  “My wife will be here for the clan gathering, along with her son and his family. With all that is going on, she could not get away just yet, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I understand the archery competition is this afternoon, and I wanted to see Brian compete.”

  “Beth’s family owns a pub in the upper village, and Braedan works with them,” Brianna told her. “I imagine the Pig’s Whistle has been b
ustling.”

  “Aye, that it has, and we hear all the gossip.” Braedan studied Sloan and Brianna’s cottage, and his expression turned wistful. “Like my forefathers, I was born and raised on this land. My wife—may she rest in peace—and I raised Sloan here. I still think of this farm as home, and I’ve missed ye all something fierce.”

  Brianna smiled. “We miss you too, Dad.”

  Braedan rubbed the back of his neck. “Ach, well, now I brew ale for the Pig’s Whistle in na Sráidbhaile Uachtarach.” He smiled ruefully at Grayce. “Ye’ll know it as the upper village.”

  “Are you hungry?” Brianna asked. “You must have set out very early to get here.”

  “I could do with a cup of your wonderful tea and a bite to eat. I stopped to chat with Sloan and Brian on the way. Beth and I will be staying with Brian whilst we’re here.”

  Brianna gestured toward the heating water. “Grayce, go ahead and bathe. I’ll take my bath once Braedan is settled.”

  “I’ll add more water to heat for you,” she said as the two headed for the cottage. Grayce grabbed the handles of the two wooden pails and headed for the large cauldron of water over the fire pit.

  Another member of Brian’s family had just entered her circle, bringing with him the promise of more to come. They were wonderful people, but no matter how much she came to care for them, Brian’s family could never replace her own.

  A sudden burst of anger stole her breath as she imagined what her family was going through. They must be so worried about her. She hadn’t been able to sense anything from them, which meant the fae magic would prevent them from sensing anything from her. Her family wouldn’t know she was still alive, and never knowing what became of her would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

  The sun had begun its descent, and the new moon peeked over the horizon. Now that all the events in the tournament had been completed, the clan would gather this very eve, and the new chieftain would be announced. Brian’s grandda and Beth had left his cottage to visit with friends. Bathed and shaved, Brian dressed carefully in his very best trews and his finest tunic. He pulled a comb through his hair and tied it back with a bit of leather. He’d been too nervous to eat much of his supper. His stomach had turned to a tightly wound ball of nervousness and hope.