by K. C. Dyer
“Did you see the mess on the floor after the meal?” whispered Kate, disgust in her voice. “These people just throw their bones and scraps on the floor after they eat. It’s awful.”
Darrell smiled sleepily. “I think they were throwing the scraps to the dogs. I saw at least three dog fights over the course of the banquet.”
“No wonder the Great Hall stunk so badly when we walked through it today.” Kate punched the straw pallet she was lying on. “And I’m sure I saw one puppy pee in the corner by the door to the kitchens. At least Delaney’s house trained.”
Darrell smiled in spite of her sleepiness. “Make that castle trained.”
“Do you think Brodie is okay? Where do you think he’s sleeping?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” replied Darrell, keeping her voice very low. “Since he’s taken on the job of stable boy, I’m sure he must be down there with Delaney.” She changed the subject. “I want to go back and have a peek at the cave again tomorrow. When Delaney came in, he had something in his mouth, but I didn’t get a good look at it. I have a hunch it has something to do with why we are here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, Kate. And I’m not really sure ... just something about the cave was different from when I saw it last. We left the cave in such a hurry that I didn’t get enough time to properly look around. And I couldn’t even get a good look back from the carriage ...”
“Right, I remember that,” interrupted Kate, sarcastically. “We got to ride on the back of a creaking wagon filled with straw. My back is still killing me from the ruts. And I’m sure that Brodie is down in the stable right now, sneezing his head off as your loyal servant should. As I recall, you were riding in air-conditioned comfort in a padded coach.”
Darrell snickered quietly. “Okay, okay, so the coach was better than the wagon. It was still pretty bumpy, y’know. And definitely not air-conditioned, except that there was no glass in the windows.”
She paused. “Anyway, in the coach, I was thinking that this whole trip has to do with what we were learning from Professor Tooth this summer. Eleanor confirmed it this afternoon. We are smack in the middle of the European outbreak of the Black Plague.”
Kate closed her eyes and leaned back on her bed. “I know that must be true,” she whispered, “but I still find it so hard to believe.” She looked at Darrell’s face, lit by the flickering light of a small tallow candle, and her eyes filled with tears. “I really want to go home now, Darrell. There are so many things that have happened that I don’t understand.”
Darrell nodded and reached over to pat Kate’s arm. “It will all work out, Kate. Somehow everything is tied into this cave. I’m sure by tomorrow we will be able to make it back to the school.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Darrell woke the next morning before dawn, feeling restless and worried. She was missing something, and she couldn’t think what it could be. She got up and dressed quietly, cringing a bit when she touched the slightly sticky mints that were still in the pocket of her skirt. I’ll have to get rid of this mess somewhere, she thought absently as she tiptoed downstairs to the stables. She could see the small stable boy at the end of the dark aisle carefully carrying an oil lamp. She put up her hand to hail him when she tripped and stumbled over something in the dark. She grabbed the low wall of one of the stalls and managed to keep her feet. Looking down, she saw Delaney, curled up like a brown apostrophe on the hay. He smiled up at her and held up his front paw, which had a small dirty bandage wrapped around it.
“Delaney,” she said with dismay. “What happened to you?”
“He got his paw under Primrose’s hoof, m’lady.” The small stable boy had heard Darrell’s clumsy entrance and come over to investigate. “I think the bone is broken,” he added.
“Oh, Delaney!” She patted him gently on the head.
“I’ve left yer servant to sleep, miss,” the stable boy whispered. “I tried to rouse him this morning but he just rolled over and would not get up.”
Darrell smiled weakly, still worried about Delaney. “I do need to speak with him about the dog, so let’s try a wet rag on his head. I’m sure that’ll do the trick.”
The stable boy sped off to get the water, giggling.
Darrell turned back to Delaney and found he was holding something in his mouth. She took it and stood up to peer at it in the gloomy lamplight.
A wool stocking, she thought. Where have I seen this before?
A voice behind her made her jump. Quickly, she jammed the stocking into her pocket before she turned around.
“Here’s the water, m’lady.” The stable boy grinned impishly.
“I’m sorry,” Darrell muttered. “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s let him sleep a while longer. I’ve just remembered something I have to do ...”
Ten minutes later, Darrell was scrambling down the road to the beach. The kitchen had been a flurry of activity as she ran out the door to the garden (Just like Eagle Glen, she thought with a pang) and she was sure that no one had noticed her departure. She had stopped on the way through the great hall to pick up an old hawthorn stick she had seen lying discarded in a corner.
Using the stick as a cane tremendously aided her progress, and by using a hop-step combination over the many ruts, she was able to almost run down the road to the town.
My leg must be getting used to this prosthesis, she thought sardonically.
In less than half an hour she made her way down the stone steps and onto the beach. As she limped down the final steps, Darrell heard a scratching sound behind her, and her heart jumped into her throat. She whipped around, only to find Delaney limping down the path behind her.
“Silly dog,” she muttered quietly. “You should be home resting that sore paw of yours.” She patted his head and stepped onto the beach. Slowing down to catch her breath, she watched Delaney snuffle off down the beach. She pulled the stocking out of her pocket and picked her way across the rocky shore to the entrance of the cave.
She didn’t smell the smoke until she had actually stepped into the opening itself, and then it was too late.
A dry voice spoke behind her. “And who might ye be, lass?”
Darrell whirled around to face an old man, wildly bearded and wearing little more than rags.
Darrell’s heart felt like it had frozen in her chest. Her feelings of unease had been justified.
“I ... I found this stocking at the castle,” she said lamely. The man stared at her through blue eyes that looked strangely familiar. He nodded for her to continue.
Darrell groped for something to say, and then decided on the truth, or part of it. “I was here yesterday, and I saw the mate of this stocking tucked in the cave here. I ... I ... just came down to ... to satisfy my curiosity.”
The old man looked at her calmly.
“Well, my dear,” he said. “I’m afraid ye couldn’t have chosen a worse time to be curious.” He called into the cave. “Sir William, I believe we have a problem.”
Darrell turned to see the entire doorway of the cave filled with the bulk of an enormous man wearing a uniform similar to that of the castle soldiers. He was wrapped in a swath of plaid, and the links of his mail clinked and rattled as he stepped out of the cave. He was as heavily bearded as the old man, but almost twice the size.
Darrell was speechless. In an age where she qualified as a large girl, this was surely a giant. And yet the voice, when he spoke, was gentle.
“I’ve never seen ye around Ainslie, my girl. I would’ve remembered that wee wooden foot, I’m sure. Are ye a friend to my daughter, then?”
Darrell swallowed. “I ... we ... my friends ... ah ... servants and I were shipwrecked on your beach,” she stumbled. She took a deep breath and tried again. “The Lady Eleanor has welcomed us into Ainslie Castle, that we might find sanctuary from the Black Plague.”
The giant roared with laughter. “My Ellie,” he said with evident delight, “was probably so excited by yer adventures that
she kept ye up all night.” He sat down on a large boulder with a clank and turned to the old man. “As she’s a friend of Ellie’s, Iain, I guess we’ll just have to leave her here in the cave until all the nonsense is over.”
Darrell looked from one bearded face to the other with dawning understanding. She pointed her finger at the giant.
“You must be Sir William, Eleanor’s father.” She turned and looked at the old man. “And if I had to guess from the colour of your eyes, I would say you must have a son named Luke.”
The old man grinned through his beard and spoke to the giant. “She’s a quick study, this one. Perhaps she can deliver us news from the castle ...”
He was interrupted by a shout, and Darrell looked up to see Luke careening down the road from the castle on his horse. The animal scrambled down the bank and then thundered up the beach to where they stood.
“Father ... Hamish is mounting his men!” he gasped, and slid off the horse. “I took the fastest horse, but they were but moments behind me.”
Darrell grabbed Luke’s arm. “Please tell me what’s happening.”
“Dara! There is no time! Ye must flee back to the castle. Take this dirk!” He pulled a slim knife from his stocking. A ray of sun crept over the horizon and gleamed on the blade of the knife. She heard a crash and looked up to see what seemed a river of mounted men, pouring down from the castle road onto the beach.
Leading the charge was Hamish, looking much more imposing atop his horse than on foot.
Darrell recognized several of the soldiers who rode beside him as those who had surrounded Luke and his family and frightened her on her first visit to this place.
Sir William put his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her behind him. Darrell stepped back against the rocks, her hands behind her. Sir William looked up at Hamish, ignoring the other mounted soldiers. “Hail, young Hamish. Would this be a wee committee to welcome me home from my travels?”
Hamish quailed for a moment at the sight of the large man. He looked around at the troops mounted beside him and swallowed.
“Not quite, Sir William. Ye have been gone so long, we at Ainslie Castle had taken ye for lost.”
“So I have heard from my shipmate’s son, Hamish. He tells me that there may be other plans in play ... something to do with my daughter?”
Hamish shifted in his saddle. His tone was condescending. “Aye, yer spy has told ye well, Sir William. With ye dead and gone, and no male heir, it will fall to the Lady Eleanor to look after Ainslie Castle until she produces a son. I plan to marry her and help her with both projects.”
Darrell remembered Eleanor’s blushing face from the previous day, and Hamish’s plans snapped into place in her mind so clearly they almost clicked. She shook her head. I have to hand it to you, Hamish, she thought. You certainly don’t think small.
Sir William stood very still, but from her position behind him, Darrell watched his hands flex. “I’m afraid yer plans are spoiled then, lad,” said the large man quietly. “For I have returned from my journey and plan to take my place at the head of the Laird’s table.”
Hamish sneered and gazed over the water. “Looks to be a terrible storm brewing ... dangerous waters out there. When the Laird’s body is found washed up on shore, I don’t think there will be much argument if the captain of the guard helps console the Lady Eleanor in her great loss.” He returned his gaze to Sir William. “Look behind me, old man. Ye may have yer spy, but ye have been gone a long time. The loyalty of the castle guard now rests with their captain.”
Luke stepped forward. “I am no spy, Hamish. It is ye who are the traitor against yer Laird.” He raised his voice. “Who will stand with me, and fight for Sir William against this traitor?”
Hamish didn’t even glance at the crowd of mounted men. He turned his gaze on Darrell.
“Don’t think I have forgotten ye either, lassie.” He grimaced as though a bad taste had crossed his tongue and gestured to one of the soldiers. “Jacob, that girl has been nothing but trouble. Seize her!”
“Not under my command!” Sir William’s voice rose to a roar. “Who’s with me?” He reached behind his shoulder and drew out an enormous broadsword. Luke jumped to his side and suddenly all the soldiers had blades in their hands. Sir William swung his sword at Hamish and the fight was on.
The air rang with blows as soldier turned against soldier. Several horses screamed, and Darrell, terrified, stepped backwards into the cave. From the relative safety of the cave, she watched the battle unfold outside. It was hard to tell who was winning, or even who was fighting for whom, as by this time all the men were hard at it, and the slash and clang of metal against metal was deafening. Her heart pounded and her head rang with the noise.
The handle of the knife was warm in her palm, and she shifted it uneasily from hand to hand. Darrell glimpsed a rock shelf near the cave entrance. In the dim light she could see a niche where the rock levelled out to form a ledge almost two metres above the ground. Perhaps she could hide the knife in there, as she most certainly could do nothing else with it. Peeking over, she could see the ledge was tucked in behind a dark face of rock. It held a threadbare roll of rough cloth and a few scraps of dried fish.
Suddenly a man leaped in the entrance and pushed past Darrell. She staggered back to see that it was Luke’s father. He thrust his hand into the bundle and pulled out a short sword. Blood ran down one side of his face, but he was grinning.
“Been through too much to get back here to give up now,” he said. “Tis enough to make a man feel young again,” he added and jumped back out the cave opening.
The battle outside seemed to be ebbing, judging from the noise. The clamour was dying down, with fewer ringing blows being struck. Darrell willed herself to be calm. She took a step toward the entrance to peek outside when she was thrust back against the wall of the cave by a small form.
“I thought ye might be in here, lass.” Hamish grabbed Darrell by the arm.
She struggled to push him away. “I thought you were fighting your Laird?”
Hamish grinned and his teeth looked brown and broken in the dim light. “He went down in the first sortie, lassie.” With strength that belied his size, he pinned her to the wall with one hand and pulled up one of his leggings. A broad white scar bloomed on the back of one calf. “I believe I have a score to settle with ye, miss.”
He swung around and held his bloody sword to her throat.
Without a second’s thought, Darrell slashed at the hand holding her arm with the slim blade that she still held. Hamish cried out and dropped her arm. Realizing she was free, she plunged deeper into the cave. A brown blur surged through the door and to Darrell’s side, and together she and Delaney flew into the black recesses of the cave.
She could hear Hamish shout behind her, calling for a torch, but she ran on, blindly, in the dark. Guided only by the feel of the wall under her hand, which was raw from the rough surface, she fled into the darkness, Delaney at her heels.
Darrell’s leg was in excruciating pain. The wooden peg, though bound tightly, had no flexibility and pounded brutally into her leg as she ran. A rock caught her foot and, unable to keep her balance, she felt herself falling. A memory of another fateful fall in another world rose up from deep within and told her to roll her head and legs in a ball. She hit the ground very hard, jarring one shoulder painfully, slid on the sand, and crashed against the rock wall of the cave.
Another shout echoed behind her, and she flailed in the dark, feeling Delaney at her side and trying to get up. As her right hand groped for purchase on the wall, she was flooded with a sudden realization. There was a vicious yank on her arm, and she was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Her head was spinning, pounding, whirling. Darrell curled up into a ball and, eyes tightly closed, forced herself to breathe evenly. She slipped one of the mints from her pocket into her mouth. The spinning slowed, and as the hot, sweet taste of peppermint filled her mouth, the sick feeling in her stomach e
ased. She clasped her arms around her knees, almost weeping with relief. Apart from the sore leg and shoulder, this was definitely an improvement over the last trip. And she knew there would be at least one more trip to come. She swallowed.
Her friends were lost, behind more than a rock wall in a cave. They were stranded in time.
This sick thought propelled Darrell to her feet. Though her heart still pounded with fear, the lingering pain forced her to limp slowly to the entrance of the cave. Her leg was throbbing, although it was certainly easier to walk in her comfortable prosthesis than with a wooden peg strapped to her leg. Nauseated with fear and confusion, she sat down to take stock near the cave entrance, where evening light flooded in through the rock.
Looking around, she saw that for the first time after a journey there was no sign of Delaney. Still, she didn’t have time to worry about him at present. The priority right now was to go back in time to find Brodie and Kate, and she knew she had to do so quickly. Every minute she was here meant much more time lost in the compressed world of the past.
Hurry ... hurry ... make a decision ...
This was crazy. She tried to stop her mind from whirling and to catch her breath.
This time I need to be better prepared, she thought grimly. Darrell scrambled to her feet and slipped through the crevice.
The run up the beach seemed to last forever, though the pain in her leg had started to slide to the back of her mind, edged out by the fear for Brodie and Kate that tore at her gut. Her mind gnawed at the problem — find Brodie and Kate, get them back to the cave. And what about Hamish?
The gravel crunched underfoot as at last she turned onto the winding path up the cliffs to the school. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. She crept upstairs, anxious to avoid anyone, and grabbed a few essentials from her room. The seconds sped past as she applied an extra layer of padding and, fingers fumbling, re-adjusted her prosthesis snugly. She slipped down the corridor to a room near the stairs, having to hide in a doorway only once to avoid a student coming out of the bathroom. One item left.