by Pandora Pine
“When Kelly was telling the story about the battle and what happened to Fionn, it got hot.” Rubbing the heel of his hand against the medallion usually calmed him, but not tonight. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shocked look on Fionn’s face when the enemy sword pierced his chest.
“Well, it was a hot day.”
“No, Cadence, it wasn’t. When we were in the cemetery, the sun had gone behind a cloud and it got cooler while the stone got warm against my skin-against my heart.”
“Okay. What happened after the moonstone heated up?” she urged.
“I traced the symbol on the grave, just like everyone else did and nothing happened. When you walked away and left me alone with Fionn, I traced the markings a second time while rubbing the medallion with my thumb. I whispered Fionn’s name and then…”
“Then, what?” she asked impatiently.
“I got dizzy and closed my eyes. When I opened them again I was there. I could see the battle from the hill,” Carter said, his voice just above a whisper.
Cadence stopped short causing Carter to stumble. “Just how much did you have to drink tonight? That Irish beer is strong shit, but I only saw you have two.”
“It’s not the beer. It really happened. I was up on the hill.” Carter pointed to the rise. The ruins of the castle were lit by the light of the full moon. “I could see the battle. I could hear the clang of sword against sword and the cries of the dying.” He stopped and took a breath, feeling tears prick the back of his eyes. “I saw him, Cadence. I saw Fionn. Heard him yell, saw him fall…” Carter felt the tears break free. He batted them away angrily with the backs of his fists.
“What did he say?” she asked curiously.
“He yelled, ‘my heart’ and then he was run through.” Carter’s left hand was instinctively holding his talisman. “He was looking right at me when he died,” he said on a broken whisper.
“Come on, let’s get you back and tucked into bed. There’s no doubt you believe this is what happened. I bet you fell asleep at the grave and dreamt the whole thing. Jet lag’s a killer.”
“Okay.” Carter would humor his sister for now, but he knew what had really happened on Fairy Hill. Ireland was famous for stories about banshees, selkies and little people. Travelling back five hundred years into the past wasn’t so far-fetched compared to other myths and legends of the Emerald Isle. Stranger things had happened.
9
Carter let his worried sister baby him when they got back to the inn. He showered and she tucked him into bed, making him promise he would wake her up if he had the “dream” about Fionn again.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he muttered out loud. Throwing back the covers he grabbed his pillow and threw it against the foot of the bed. Looking out the window, Moone Castle looked ethereal in the light of the full moon. He couldn’t help wondering if Fionn’s ghost was out there now searching for his lost Anam Cara. Searching for him.
The image of Fionn dying had been haunting him all day. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear Fionn’s voice and see the smile on his handsome face before it crumpled in horror and shock.
The Gealach in combination with the marking on Fionn’s grave had somehow impossibly thrown him back in time to October of 1433. Was it possible that combination would work a second time? Could he do something to stop Fionn’s death? Maybe if he stayed on the ground and didn’t attract Fionn’s attention, the warrior would survive.
Carter’s mind spun with the possibilities. What if instead of watching Fionn die, he could watch him live? They could get to know each other and become lovers. Wondering if his long blond hair would feel as soft as it looked, he slipped his hand over his stirring cock.
What would it feel like to be held by those powerful arms, to hear him call Carter, “my heart,” up close and personal? Feeling his cock jerk against his white cotton briefs, he sipped his hand into his underwear to caress his hardening flesh. Fionn was a fierce warrior. Would he be just as fierce in bed? Or, would he be a gentle, considerate lover? Carter’s hand sped up, his release nearing. When it crashed over him, he whispered Fionn’s name before quickly falling asleep.
Fionn visited him in his dreams. It was almost as if he could feel rough warrior’s hands cradling his face. Carter woke with a start. He was still able to feel Fionn’s presence. Blinking his eyes, he rolled to his left side to look out the window at the castle. A fog bank was rolling in, rendering Moone Castle nearly invisible.
Carter dressed quickly in a pair of well-worn Levi’s and a maroon and gold Boston College tee shirt. He shoved his wallet and his phone into his back pockets and debated leaving a note for his sister. He decided against it, vowing to send her a text message later, reasoning the chime would wake her up. He needed to make this trip back to Fionn’s grave alone.
Slipping quietly out of his room, he went down the ancient, creaky stairs as quietly as possible. The morning air was cold and raw making him instantly regret not bringing along a sweatshirt. He briefly debated going back for one, but didn’t want to risk the noisy stairs waking his sister. She was always a light sleeper.
The fog continued to thicken as he walked. As it was just after sunrise on a Sunday morning, no one was out and about. Carter enjoyed the solitude. It gave him time to think about Cadence’s reaction to what had happened yesterday.
He didn’t blame his sister for not believing him. He hadn’t believed it himself at first, not until Fionn looked up at him and smiled. Thinking about it now, it seemed like Fionn had recognized him. Stopping his long strides for a moment, he looked up at the castle which had disappeared. It unsettled him, not being able to see the stone monolith, now lost in the fog. Cold drops of moisture clung to his skin and he could feel the fabric of his shirt getting damp.
He knew his sister had been humoring him last night when he told her about traveling back to 1433 and seeing the Battle of Boyne Bog. She blamed his hallucination on being overtired in combination with having a few drinks at the pub. Her disbelief made him briefly question whether or not he actually did flash into the past, but it had seemed so real.
He heard swords crashing and could smell the coppery stench of blood. He supposed his imagination and scenes from Braveheart could have added color to his…dream? Hallucination? Delusion? Carter sighed and shoved his hands deep into his pockets hoping to warm them.
He could accept all signs pointing to what happened yesterday as a product of his imagination with the exception of one thing. He heard Fionn yell, “my heart.” That phrase meant nothing to him. Until yesterday he had never heard it before. Kelly had not mentioned that phrase in the tour of the castle or in her discussions about Fionn. Surely that kind of romantic line would have been remembered?
So deep was he in his own head, Carter missed the turn off to the castle. Not being able to see the hulking ruin was off-putting and made him feel disoriented. Correcting his course, he headed up the gravel path toward the graveyard which gradually came into view the closer he got to the castle.
Fionn’s grave slab looked much the same as it had yesterday with the exception of the stone being damp from the fog. “Good morning, Fionn,” Carter whispered, kneeling beside the stone. He instantly felt the cold morning dew seep into the knees of his jeans.
“Did I really see you yesterday or was it just a product of my imagination?” He plucked his moonstone talisman out from under his shirt. It felt cold and clammy in his hand. Maybe he imagined the stone generating heat against his skin when Kelly spoke about the Gealach and the Three Treasures of Ireland.
Not knowing what exactly he had done to send himself backward in time, he tried to recreate everything he had done yesterday. Holding the moonstone in his left hand, he traced the well-worn design with his thumb while reaching out a tentative hand toward the identical marking on the gravestone with his right. “Send me back to 1433 in time to save Fionn,” he whispered into the swirling fog.
Thoughts of Doctor Who stopped him from touching the stone. If
he were actually able to alter Fionn’s fate, the first thing to change would be the date of death on his grave marker. He dug his phone out of his pocket and took a few quick shots of the slab to preserve the stone the way it was in this moment. He thought briefly of texting Cadence on the off chance this crazy idea actually worked, but shook his head and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
Taking a deep breath, he whispered, “Help me, Fionn.” Reaching his right hand down to the Celtic knot carved into the slick granite, he traced the symbol while rubbing the moonstone in his left hand. “Please,” he whispered and disappeared.
10
“My God, how much did I have to drink last night?” Carter groaned. His head was pounding. It felt like he’d gone five rounds in an MMA octagon. His eyes were slammed shut and the roiling in his belly told him it was a good idea to keep them that way.
Feeling the sunshine beating down on his face told him he wasn’t in his bed. He was dry, for the most part, but could feel water seeping into the back of his jeans and shirt. Fanning his hands out from his chest, they encountered what felt like dewy grass beneath them. The air smelled fresh and clean, if a little earthy. It was quiet, unnaturally so. The only sound reaching him was the rustle of the wind through tall grass.
Opening his eyes, he saw bright blue skies overhead. He sat up quickly and regretted it, feeling a wave of dizziness pass through him. From his position on the ground he could see Boyne Bog and could hear the rushing River Boyne. Fionn…
It came back to him in a flash. He had been at Fionn’s grave rubbing his hand along the carving hoping the motion would throw him back in time again to save Fionn from his untimely death.
Saying a quick prayer he would see Moone Castle whole, rather than in ruins, he spun to look behind him. Unbelievably, his prayer was answered. He was sitting in a meadow of high grass and wildflowers several hundred yards outside the bailey wall. Moone Castle sat atop Fairy Hill looking brand new.
Carter breathed a sigh of short-lived relief. He had done it. Going back in time again seemed to have been the easy part, but a bigger question still loomed large, where was he? Snorting at his present situation, he supposed the more accurate question was, when was he? It wasn’t going to do him any good if he arrived after Fionn was already… He couldn’t bear to finish the thought.
The good news was there was no sign of the battle. He couldn’t hear the screams of wounded men or horses and couldn’t smell blood. The bad news was there was no sign of anyone. The Irish countryside was silent as the grave. Carter shivered in the cool morning sunshine.
He dug into his back pocket to grab his phone. It powered to life when he pressed the home button, but there were no bars. He should have texted Cadence when he left the hotel. Now she would never know where he had gone or how to find him. “I’m sorry, Cadence,” he mumbled out loud. Not able to do anything about his sister, he turned his mind to figuring out how to get inside the heavily fortified walls of Moone Castle to find Fionn.
Fionn Ò Ciardha was enjoying his morning ride through the meadow outside the walls of Moone Castle. He could feel the warmth of the sunshine on his shoulders and reveled in the calm his early rides with Brimstone provided. “It is a pretty morning, is it not?” he cooed to the horse. For his part, Brimstone nickered softly and tossed his ears back.
Running his mind through a list of tasks to accomplish for the day, he spotted something dark red several hundred feet away. Knowing that color was not of his meadow, he urged Brimstone into a slow walk, desiring a closer look at the strange color but not wanting to give any sign he was approaching.
As he got closer, Fionn thought the object looked like a man, but how could a man have wandered into Ò Ciardha lands without raising the alarm? His guards would have alerted scouts to an invader and riders would have been dispatched to intercept any threat to Moone Castle.
Slowing Brimstone to a halt, he softly pulled his sword from his scabbard on the saddle. From this vantage point, he was sure it was a strangely dressed man. He slid from the horse’s saddle and walked quietly toward the man who had just buried his head in his hands. Fionn raised his sword and touched the tip to the back of the man’s neck. “Explain your presence or my sword will taste your blood.”
Carter jumped a mile at the touch of cold steel. He slowly raised his hands in the air. “My name is Carter McCann. As you can see, I’m unarmed. Now would you kindly take the point of your sword away from my neck?”
“How did you slip past the guards and into Ò Ciardha lands? These are troubled times and strangers are not welcomed here.” Fionn took a moment to examine the seated man. His hair was short and dark with bits of grass stuck in the silky strands. His shirt was burgundy-the color he had seen from afar- and bore strange gold markings.
Rolling forward to his knees, Carter moved away from the kiss of the cold blade against his skin. He kept his arms raised in submission as he got to his feet and turned around, his dark eyes popping open in shock.
Fionn wore a baggy green colored tunic stretched tightly over his broad shoulders and fawn colored leggings with boots that came up almost to his knees. He studied the young man but continued to point his sword at the stranger’s chest. “Who are you? Speak quickly. I do not suffer fools lightly.”
“I told you, my name is Carter McCann.” He reached his right hand forward.
“Fionn, son of Fiannan.” He switched the sword to his left hand and reached forward to grasp Carter’s forearm in his hand. There was strength in the stranger and a jolt of awareness tickling past his senses. Carter was a handsome man, but that did not mean Fionn would spare his life if he meant him or the people of Moone harm.
Fionn’s touch sizzled across Carter’s already frayed nerves. His hand was rough, with calloused skin. Obviously, he was a man used to hard work. “It’s nice to meet you and thanks for dropping the sword.” Carter kept Fionn’s arm firmly ensconced in his own. After all the years he spent fantasizing about the blond warrior, he was in no hurry now to let him go.
He had done it! He had come back in time before the Battle of Boyne Bog. He would be able to save the fierce warrior, if said warrior didn’t run him through first. He stopped short of telling Fionn he was his Anam Cara. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed at sword point by his soulmate. Why didn’t Fionn know who he was? He obviously recognized him on Fairy Hill. Carter would have time to figure that out later. For now, he was here and Fionn was alive. That was all that mattered.
“How did you come to be here?” Fionn eased his arm from Carter’s grasp.
“I’m not totally sure you would believe me if I told you.” Now that the sword was no longer pointing at anything vital, Carter took a moment to assess his situation. How likely was it that this medieval warrior would believe his story about time-travel? His bloody corpse would probably hit the ground seconds after he got the words out. What he needed was to get inside the walls of Moone Castle so he could regroup his scattered wits and come up with a better plan.
Carter took a deep breath and looked past Fionn, spotting his stallion. “Is this your horse?” Carter asked with wonder in his voice. He took half a step toward the animal and was stopped short by the raised blade of Fionn’s sword.
“I thought we’d moved past the sword? I’m not going to hurt you and I’m sure as hell not going to hurt that magnificent animal.” Carter sidestepped Fionn and his lethal blade and moved slowly toward the giant, black warhorse, who was watching Carter’s approach with guarded eyes.
Never having been this close to a horse before, Carter relied on what he had seen in movies and television. He offered his hand, palm down, for the animal to sniff. “You’re such a beautiful boy, aren’t you? Yes, you are. I’m Carter and I’m hoping you’ll be my friend, since all your master wants to do is run me through with his sword.”
Brimstone bumped his muzzle against Carter’s hand. Slowly raising his hand, he scratched above the horse’s nose. Once the horse seemed used to his touch, he brought his ot
her hand up to pat along the horse’s neck. Brimstone blew a breath out through his nose and bent his head to nuzzle against the side of Carter’s face, making him laugh. “You’re a lot friendlier than tall, blond and scary, huh, boy?” Carter continued to croon and stroke the horse.
Fionn was stunned. Brimstone didn’t like anyone but him and there were some days when even he would doubt the horse’s affections. This kind of behavior was unheard of. Brimstone was acting like a teenage girl, stomping his hooves and tossing his head prettily in front of Carter McCann.
What a strange name and why hadn’t he identified his father? Fionn had too many questions and not enough answers. It was time to stop this horseplay now. “Carter,” he said, testing his name out on his tongue. It felt strange yet somehow safe. “Why are you here in Moone? How did you get past the scouts? Who is your father? Where are you from?”
“Hold on there a minute, cowboy. Why don’t you let me answer a few of those questions, before you ramble on with more, okay? But first, can we walk down to the river so I can get something to drink and wash my face?”