A Bridge Through The Mist

by Denise A. Agnew

  The sheer innocence of his question made her smile. "We still have ‘female’ situations."

  He sighed. "‘Tis a bad thing, to be sure. Men still put up with yer moods—"

  "I’ll give you a mood in a moment if you don’t stop." Alenna moved to the door of the other chamber. "Can you get fresh water for me?"

  Tentatively, he grinned. "Aye. Best I should, lest ye decide to lop my head off with my own claymore while I sleep."

  "You’ve got that right," she said as he went out the door.

  She made a rapid-fire conclusion. Men in 1318 were different from their male counterparts in the twentieth century in dress, vocabulary, and battle skills. And she was too different to fit into this alien world. Her life belonged to the future … her life belonged to her and no one else.

  Her modern outlooks were turned aside even by those who seemed to have her interest at heart.

  Alenna sank down in a chair and eyed the soiled dress. What other tricks did this century have in store for her?

  * * *

  CHAPTER 11

  Wind battered the castle, and Alenna wondered if the approaching storm would be a heavy deluge. She settled into her chair with a disconsolate sigh and sipped wine from a goblet.

  Maybe the heavy atmosphere of the clouds depressed her. No. If she admitted it to herself, it all came back to one source.

  One thoroughly, most completely, most maddening man.

  Tynan.

  Certainly he managed to be civil, and he threw an occasional smile her way. Something, though, was missing in the way he spoke to her. To admit she had a longing for the type of conversation they’d had back in Dougald’s room would be to admit she wanted his good regard, and another taste of his physical needs. She had no intention of admitting to anyone, least of all herself, that being close to him excited her.

  Since his tender, plundering kisses, she had forced away the nagging yearning threatening to overrule her good sense. Craving more of his attention … desiring it … was nothing short of foolish.

  Certainly he was a handsome man, but he was stubborn, impossible, chauvinistic, and about seven hundred years old.

  A pounding on the tower door made Alenna drop the goblet she held, and she simply stared at the mess on the table for a moment before asking, "Who is it?"

  "Message from the baron."

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but stepped to the door and opened it anyway. A short man dressed in the lowly garb of a servant stood at the door.

  "His lordship requires yer presence in the great hall," he said.

  Apprehension rolled in her stomach, but she could hardly refuse the command of the baron. She followed the servant, going through the great hall, and up the stairs that brought her to the vast area of the baron’s living quarters. The servant stopped inside the doorway and gestured for her to go ahead of him.

  "His lordship will await ye here," he said, and left so quickly he might have been a puff of smoke.

  Reluctant to sit in one of the hard chairs circling the large, crude wood table in the center of the huge room, Alenna stayed at the door.

  A gust of air blew her kirtle to the side, and she half expected to see the baron materialize at the door on the opposite side of the chamber. Instead, the breeze ruffled cold through the room, causing a shiver to glide along her skin. A sense of foreboding emanated from the room, as sure as the skin of a snake embraced its owner.

  A fine scent filtered in, barely penetrating her nose. The cloying odor teased her nostrils, adding to the unease that carried along her limbs. The word for it popped into her head without warning.

  Evil.

  Shivering, she crossed her arms for warmth. Only a short time ago Alenna would have laughed at the notion of evil … of knowing this room had seen terror, death and destruction. Perhaps the decor of the place might be responsible for how she felt.

  Lancet windows, barely larger than arrow slits, gave the room a gloomy atmosphere. Rushes covered portions of the floor. Her footsteps were muffled by the fibers as she forced herself to walk forward onto the crude mats.

  Huge tapestries, all of them in good condition, hung on three sides of the room. A small fireplace, devoid of wood was inset into the remaining wall, and next to it resided a large, ornate table and chair.

  Somehow this space managed to feel less a home … less a comfort than the far more modest lodgings she shared with Tynan in the Black Tower.

  Alenna stepped farther into the room and noted the doorway opposite led to another spiral staircase. Perhaps these stairs lead to the baron’s bedchamber, which he shared with Caithleen.

  Time marched on and she wondered if the baron would ever appear. Maybe she could leave now and plead later that she thought he wasn’t coming. No. That was risky business. Better play by the rules.

  Footsteps sounded on the staircase, and she turned to see the baron standing in the doorway. She advanced to the center of the room, her heart beating fast and her pulse racing. The baron looked older today, as if something weighed on his mind. A hardness tinged his mouth, giving him a grim countenance.

  He bowed over her hand and said, "Welcome. I am pleased to see you."

  Alenna curtsied and murmured, "Thank you, my lord."

  "Please," he said. "Sit at the table. Would you take some wine?"

  As she settled into one of the hard chairs, she knew that it would be impolite to refuse, so she accepted a goblet. He remained standing, his position of authority plainly marked.

  He cleared his throat. "You are wondering, of course, why I asked you here."

  "Aye."

  The baron’s face retained its implacable line. "I have an offer from which I feel you will benefit, and which would give me great pleasure."

  Alenna felt her insides jumble. She didn’t know what to say. Was he going to ask her to be his mistress?

  "As you may know, I have extra chambers for those nobles that may visit."

  She nodded but said nothing. He couldn’t be offering her rooms here. He couldn’t be.

  "‘Tis my wish that you take the chambers above my own on the fourth floor." He waited, staring at her with assurance.

  He didn’t expect her to refuse.

  "I … I don’t know what to say, my lord. I have fine chambers with Tynan."

  "Aye. They are better lodgings than most knights, who are not of noble birth, can boast. You must understand, ‘tis with gratitude I offer these lodgings. You did save my best knight’s life, and this is a small way I can repay you. And you are Tynan’s cousin. Such gifts are not given lightly."

  "Of course not." Nervous knots tightened her throat. "It is just that your offer is so generous. And entirely unnecessary."

  Once again, a cool, tolerant smile crossed his lips. "‘Tis not seemly for a young, unmarried woman to live with a man without marriage. That he is your cousin matters not." He reached for the pitcher of ale and poured another portion for himself.

  "My lord, I am quite safe with Tynan. He’s an honorable man."

  "Aye, that he is. But appearances, my dear, are most important. Have you any hopes to marry while you are here?"

  "Marry?"

  "One of the men about the castle. Perhaps your cousin?"

  Startled, Alenna put her goblet down. "I have no plans to marry."

  The baron advanced on her with a stride as smooth as a panther on the hunt. Stopping much too close in front of her, he forced her to look up at him.

  "Caithleen thought it might be of great help to you both if you could act as her companion." He hesitated, then leaned slightly forward. "Unless, of course, I ask too much. Perhaps you are offended by the idea of being a companion to one such as Caithleen."

  Anger for Caithleen welled in her, but she shoved it down.

  "Nay," she said hastily. "Caithleen is kind, and a good woman."

  "Then you will accept?"

  Leaving her place with Tynan would mean she no longer had his protection. But it would also mean she could come and
go as she pleased. Even with no modern conveniences, she’d find the chambers in this tower more comfortable and the food and drink better.

  That alone should be enough.

  A vision of Caithleen in Tynan’s arms forced her decision. Despite her vow not to care, she could discover the nature of the relationship between Caithleen and Tynan if she took the baron’s offer. Also, without Tynan so near, she might concentrate on finding a way out of this time trap.

  Without another hesitation she said, "Aye. I will accept."

  The baron’s smile widened. "‘Tis settled then. You shall move in immediately."

  "Immediately? But—"

  "I shall send someone with you to gather your things."

  "My lord, do we need to be so hasty? I need to tell Tynan I am moving."

  He cocked one eyebrow. "Of course, but I would have you move your things into the room now. You will dine with us this night, and I shall invite Tynan. You may tell him your intentions then."

  His words radiated no nonsense confidence, sending a chill over Alenna. She wondered if she did the right thing.

  "Caithleen shall be so pleased, and you will be more comfortable. ‘Tis a cold day, and your new chamber has a large hearth and warm wraps to stave off cold."

  Moments later, he sent for a guard to take her back to her room. As her escort followed her to the Black Tower, a hollow feeling grew within her chest. For a moment it felt this walk would end at the executioner’s block.

  * * *

  Tynan saw Alenna coming out of the donjon with a guard in tow, and every muscle went on alert. Had the baron summoned her, or had the cuif woman gone to him uninvited? If she’d gone to the baron without a summons, the baron would see the visit as an invitation. There was no telling what the man would do.

  Damn her! What did he care? She irritated him like a winter illness, lingering and never quite leaving his thoughts. Women of the twentieth century were far too forward and independent for his tastes.

  After he’d held her in his lap and they had kissed with such fire, he’d put distance between them. Besides the fact she wanted to leave his time, Tynan had other reasons to keep his distance. After she’d challenged him about his confrontation with the three thugs, he knew she cared for him a little. There had been tears in her eyes and she’d responded to his kisses.

  But even if she cared about him, he could not do what his body clamored to do every single night. Take her. Hard and deep. Every pore screamed to make love to her … see the fire in her eyes as he gave her the ultimate pleasure.

  But she’d never allow him to take her, and he wouldn’t force himself on any woman.

  As Alenna disappeared out of sight around the corner, Tynan hurried to catch up. Not wanting her to know he followed, he immediately slowed down. When she went back to the Black Tower and the guard went inside with her, a fierce surge of protective instinct hit him in the gut. He ran the rest of the way to the tower, and slammed inside without hesitation, ready to break the guard into tiny pieces if he’d so much as laid a hand on her.

  Tynan thundered into the room. Alenna stood by the pallet, which was laden with a bundle of surcoats and kirtles. The guard stood too close. Far too close.

  When he saw Tynan, the man pulled his sword from the sheath. Alenna gasped, her hand going to her mouth as she stumbled away from him.

  Tynan’s muscles tightened, and he clenched his fists at his sides, his feet planted ready. The guard, a mere boy, lunged for him. Alenna let out a startled cry.

  Tynan dodged the sudden movement, grabbed the lad’s sword arm and wrenched the weapon from him. He tossed the weapon in the corner, just as he gripped the guard by the neck and slammed him against the wall.

  The guard gasped as he lost his breath, his eyes wide and fearful. Tynan pressed his forearm against the guard’s windpipe. Enough to hold him, but not to kill.

  "I should pull yer limbs from yer body, one by one," Tynan growled.

  "Tynan, no! Release him at once!" Alenna clutched Tynan’s shoulder and yanked. "You’re hurting him!"

  He didn’t release the boy. Instead he glared at her in disbelief, a heavy surge of anger going through him. Couldn’t she see he wanted to protect her?

  "Damn it," she hissed and pulled on his arm again. "Let go of him. He’s one of the baron’s guards."

  "I can see that. He was in here with ye. Alone."

  She dropped her grip on his shoulder and arm. "The baron sent him as an escort."

  Anger made his voice loud. "Ye have my protection and that is enough. I’ll no have another man sniffin’ around ye like ye was a bitch in heat."

  Alenna’s face flamed, her eyes filled with fury.

  "He’s here to help me pack up my things," she said coldly.

  Slowly he released his grip on the boy, the initial thrust of anger shrinking away. He snapped his attention back to the limp guard, who stayed against the wall, his gaze darting back and forth as if looking for escape.

  "I beg yer forgiveness," the young guard said. "I wadna have drawn my sword, but ye scared me, sir."

  Alenna glared at Tynan. "You should be glad he was so quick to defend me. If you hadn’t come barreling in like a lumbering beast, he wouldn’t have drawn his sword."

  Tynan took a deep breath, and his anger seemed to abate. He looked at the guard. "Get outside."

  "Nay. If I disobey his lordship—"

  Tynan took a step forward, and the boy shrank against the wall again. "I could break yer neck like a chicken, lad, and it wad be over so fast ye wadna ken what hit ye. And all I wad have to tell the baron was that I found ye touchin’ her. He wad no blink an eye to hear that I had killed ye. Go outside and wait ‘till I say."

  The boy nodded and inched his way to the door. Without attempting to retrieve his sword, he quickly went outside, slamming the door.

  Alenna walked up, her mouth a tight line, her ever changing eyes darting blue and green sparks of animosity. "You big, hairy oaf!"

  "What did ye call me?"

  "A big, hairy oaf. Why did you come charging in here before you knew what was going on?" Comprehension came over her features. "How did you know the guard was with me anyway?"

  "I saw ye come out of the baron’s tower."

  "Fabulous. So now you’re stalking me."

  "Stalkin’?"

  "Never mind. You practically scared the poor kid to death. He was only doing what he was told. Why are you so overprotective? Are you trying to control me? Are you one of those men who gets off on power?"

  Alenna stood practically nose to nose with him, her hands on her hips. He took a deep breath to stamp down the galloping of his heart. Fury plunged through him at the way she constantly disregarded her own safety. He had half a mind to let her go where she would and the consequences be damned.

  "What are you staring at?" she asked.

  "In battle, ye no give a man a chance to explain himself, lass. When he pulled his sword I thought he intended to harm ye. If I hadna reacted, he could have run ye through before ye could say clishmaclaver."

  For a moment Tynan thought he’d gotten through to her, but her expression hardened again almost instantly. "You know I can take care of myself. I’ve already saved your life twice. In my world you—"

  "I am not of yer world, Alenna. And I never will be."

  Her face flushed a light pink. "No. No, you’re not."

  Tynan had a tremendous urge to yank her into his arms and hold her. Hold her tight and tell her it didn’t matter where she came from, or that she had dropped into his world from the future. Pride held him back. Pride and the realization that she spoke the truth. She had saved his life twice.

  Her earlier words penetrated his brain, and an apprehension filled him. "Why are ye gatherin’ yer clothes?"

  "The baron has asked me to live in the tower as Caithleen’s companion. As a gesture for saving your life."

  He shook his head firmly. "Nay. Nay, I’ll not allow it. I’ll never let ye live with the baron."


  Alenna should have been angry with Tynan. She thought about this a second more, but something else bugged her and kept her from being completely incensed.

  Tynan’s protective actions when he thought the guard intended to hurt her stirred an equally primal response within her.

  That he’d kill for her … that he’d kill to defend her startled and amazed her. Yes, he had shielded her before. But she’d never seen such fierceness in his face, such overwhelming male determination.

  Like a wolf defending his mate.

  Damn it, but it stirred a part of her she didn’t understand.

  Alenna’s mouth opened and closed and then she put her hands on her hips. "I’m to be Caithleen’s companion. What harm can there be in that?"

  Tynan stood stiffly, his arms crossed, his feet planted apart in an arrogant stance. "Because I said yer no goin’."

  That did it.

  She gathered together her bundle. "Excuse me, but we’ve talked about this before. I’m not a child and you are not my father. But I can see your social training is too ingrained in you to change. You’re right, Tynan. You’re not from my world, and I’m not from yours. So we’d better part ways."

  He shifted, dropping his arms to his sides. "Ye said ye would obey me. Ye lied to me."

  Tears surged into her eyes. "Yes. Yes, I did. So I’m a liar and you shouldn’t want anything to do with me. Now if you’ll excuse me—"

  "Ye canna do this."

  "Tynan, why are you so sure there are ghosts around every corner? You seem to think every man with whom I might be alone will hurt me."

  He shook his head. "Nay. Not every man."

  "Then why are you so opposed to me moving out?"

  "Ye just canna do it."

  "That’s not an explanation."

  When he said nothing she relented. "You don’t mind me being in Dougald’s company."

  "Nay. He wadna hurt ye. The baron may be different."

  "Are you saying the baron has hurt Caithleen?"