Sneaks

by B Button

  “No, shh, baby, quiet,” I whispered.

  “Now, make him silent.” Berna bent over and her upside-down face glanced at us sternly. “And, lass, listen to me, ye must get to the Castle Lennox. Ye must not let these men take ye. And if ye canna get there, remember where I live. Come back to me if ye can. If I’m not here, check the loose stone on the fireplace. I’ll leave ye a note.”

  It was hard enough to understand the words she said, but I also had no idea what she meant. I didn't know anything about the Castle Lennox. I didn't know anything about any castle. I just hoped no men would take me anywhere.

  “Shh, hush, shh,” I tried again to quiet the baby. It didn’t work and I thought he might start yelling at any moment.

  Berna left the house, slamming the door as she went. I heard the crowd get closer. I thought I was hearing a bunch of male voices singing some sort of song. Their approach made the floor vibrate.

  I didn’t know what to do with the baby, other than put my hand over his mouth. I was careful and made sure he could still breathe out of his nose, but I knew I was being mean. In the confines of our small space, he kicked his legs and pounded the air and scraped his fists on the under side of the bed. Because his noise and everyone's strange accent, I couldn’t make out the exact words that were being spoken, but I could tell they weren’t friendly.

  I heard yelling and thought Berna was begging. It seemed like they went on forever, and they just kept getting louder. Finally, the door burst open.

  I drew in my breath loudly which startled the baby silent for what I knew would only be a brief time. Even in the shadowed light under the bed, I saw his tiny lips fold down in a frown. He would burst into a scream any minute.

  “Weel, mistress Berna, if ye dinna have yer tax coins, I’m happy to see what else the laird might approve of.” The voice was loud and manly deep and accented even more than Berna's.

  “Sir, I ha’ nothing, as ye can plainly see,” Berna said, though she wasn’t begging any longer. She sounded pissed.

  I thought I had heard a large group approaching, but whoever else had been part of the group wasn’t talking.

  I peered out at the feet I assumed were attached to the voice. They were huge and wrapped in some sort of leather-like material. They were attached to thick, but bony ankles and black-haired legs. I’d never seen legs so hairy. Even with nothing else to judge him by, I could tell the man was huge.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something,” he said as he began to stomp around the small space.

  I didn’t know if it was because the man began moving again or because I'd started breathing again, but the baby sucked in what was sure to be a huge wail. I tried to get my hand over his mouth, but I was too late; the scream shook the walls.

  With only two steps, the man’s big feet were beside the bed. He didn’t bend over and look underneath it, but he lifted it with a whoosh and words that sounded like curses.

  I looked up at the stone-like face that was supported by a thick neck and wide scary shoulders.

  The baby stopped screaming, and I was so scared that I felt my toes and fingers chill.

  For some stupid reason I said, “Hi.”

  “Och, tha bana-bhuidseach bheag fo’n leabaidh!” the man said.

  “A wee witch under the bed,” Berna said. I guessed she was translating the big man’s words. They sounded mad and scary, no matter what language was used.

  He reached for my arm and hoisted me to my feet. I left the baby on the floor. The man's rock face practically cracked as he inspected me from top to toes. He was definitely big, but in wider way. He was shorter than my 5’, 7” by an inch or two. He had a long braid of hair down his back and he wore a skirt. I'd never seen anything like him before.

  His fingers pinched tighter and his black eyes burned.

  “Who are ye, lass, with no the proper clothes and hiding yerself under the ole woman’s bed? Ye’re not from the laird’s land.” He turned to Berna. “Did ye know she was here?”

  Berna nodded solemnly.

  “Is she a welcome guest?”

  Berna hesitated just long enough before nodding that he didn’t believe her.

  “Well, tell me, who are ye, and is the bairn yours?” he said to me.

  “Kally Bright. And …” I didn’t know how to explain about the baby. This man was horrifying. He wouldn’t have any sympathy for an abandoned baby. I didn’t know what to say.

  “Where do ye live?”

  “Outside Ch . . . Chigo. Illinois.”

  “N’er heard o’ it.”

  I shrugged stiffly, my shoulder tightening and my breathing unsteady. This was all far too real.

  The man growled, a low, deep throaty sound that I felt in my nose. He turned back to Berna.

  “I’ll be taking her and the bairn.” He looked down at the baby, who was finally quiet. “The laird will need to ken this new visitor. We’ll get the truth out of her about the bairn.”

  “No!” I yelled. Berna had said I shouldn't let them take me. I didn't know how to get away other than yelling. I looked her. She wasn't doing anything to save me or the baby from this horrible man. She wrung her hands and looked at me like she hated me.

  The man yanked me out of the house, and I saw the rest of the crowd – five other men on horses.

  I had no idea the animals were so big. Even in the picture on Mr. Bellini's clock, they hadn't seemed so huge. The horses and the strange looking men on them were things I hadn't even seen in books. I didn't know what to make of men with long hair and wearing skirts.

  “Ian, get the bairn,” the man said as he motioned to one of the smaller men who was more boy than man.

  Ian’s eyes opened wide. “The bairn? The one . . .” he said with a squeaky voice.

  “I dinna ken, but we’ll get the truth out of her. Get in there and fetch him.” The big man tightened his fingers on my arm and I imagined I could see steam come out of his ears.

  “Ye’ll no say a word until ye speak to the laird himself. He’ll want to ken yer story,” he said to me.

  Maybe the laird would be easier to talk to, but I doubted it. So far, I didn't think I'd met one person who was easy to talk to.

  Ian swung himself off his horse and scurried into the house. He was not a rock of a man like the monster who had me by my arm, but small and pale as snow, his big blue eyes almost as scared as mine, and his red hair swinging behind him in a long braid.

  Kilts, they were wearing kilts, I remembered. Yes, I remembered learning something about Scotland before the quakes. Men wore skirts - no, kilts. In the next instant a million ideas ran through my mind, all of them ending at the same spot—there was a very good chance that Berna wasn’t as crazy as I thought. Maybe I was in 18th century Scotland after all, no matter how ridiculous that seemed. There wasn't one other explanation I could think of.

  The big man yanked me toward a horse.

  “Get up there, and ye’ll be trying no funny stuff if ye ken what’s best for ye.”

  Ian came out of the house holding the baby, with Berna at his heels.

  “Dinna hold the bairn so like that,” she scolded. “Support his head and neck a bit.”

  Ian carried him like a football under his arm.

  I had no idea how or why I said what I said next. "I’ll go with you without a fight, if you let me carry the baby. And I’ll ride with him.” I looked at Ian. I could imagine one of the men dropping the baby. Why did I care so much?

  The big man stood still. I noticed a small dagger in a pouch at his waist and I swallowed hard. Crap, why hadn't I just done whatever he said?

  “Why would we let ye carry for the bairn?”

  I gulped. “Because I’m the one who saved him?”

  Big man smirked. “That’s a story I’m sure the laird will be pleased to hear.” He looked around and then at the boy. “Ian?”

  “Aye sir?”

  “Ye’ll make sure she doesna escape?”

  Ian swallowed with more vigor than I had a
moment before. “Aye, sir,” he said uncertainly.

  Even though I knew I could probably take Ian in a fight, I couldn’t take them all. But I wouldn’t fight. I would get the stupid baby to safety, whatever that meant, and then I would find a way to escape and save myself. Someone would know how to point me toward home.

  “Let’s go. Lord Duncan will be verra curious about how the old woman has paid her taxes.” He turned and muttered something to one of the men who nodded and then rode away from the rest of us, his horse running so fast, it looked like they were flying.

  Ian turned to me and said, “I’ll climb aboard and then ye and the bairn can sit behind me.”

  I was scared but glad I'd be riding with him. All the others were so big and so old. I did what he said, and I held tightly to the baby with one arm and tightly to him with the other. I had never been so close to a boy but there was no time to think about that because I'd never ridden on a horse either, and from what I could tell, it was going to be horrible. I was glad I'd worn jeans but it was still going to hurt.

  As we rode away from the cabin, I grabbed Ian's shirt in my fist and turned to look at Berna. She apologized with her eyes, but it didn't help much. She reached up and touched the bottom of her throat.

  I touched the pendant. Did what I found in the clock have something to do with all of this? I couldn’t understand and I had to focus on staying on the horse, so I decided to think about it later.

  “How long until we get to … the Duncan man?” I asked Ian.

  His back stiffened and a pulse beat at his jaw.

  “Quarter of a day. It will be dark when we arrive.”

  “That’s not too bad,” I lied. Why did the horse have to bounce so much?

  Ian didn’t answer. He couldn’t be older than about thirteen or so.

  I hoped everything would be okay, but I had doubts.

  “Will we be passing the Castle Lennox?” I asked Ian.

  No answer.

  “Please. I really need to know.”

  Ian’s neck twisted slightly.

  “Corc said no talking,” he finally said.

  “Cork?” I said. Corc was ahead of us, but the other men were behind.

  “Aye, Corc. Ye’ll not find a more loyal man to the laird in all the land. I must obey.”

  “Tell me about the . . . the laird.”

  “He’s, well, he’s … hush now, we’ll not talk.”

  I tightened my grip on both Ian and the baby.

  The curious stares from the other riders and horse sounds and the strange language and accents made me feel like had been put into an old time movie. People used to go to theaters to watch movies, then they watched them on their computers until it got too dangerous to turn them on. Now, nobody watched much of anything, but from what Granny and my mom told me, I felt like I'd been put into a movie.

  Riding on the horse was painful. It would have been uncomfortable even if I wasn’t carrying a baby and trying to hold onto someone else. As it was, I wondered if there was a part of me that wouldn’t hurt when we reached our destination.

  I was miserable.

  But I was something else too. I was in the most unfamiliar place I could imagine – and never had imagined. I’d only given a little thought to green hills, no thought to men in kilts or castles. I was scared, maybe more scared than I’d ever been, but I was also getting something I'd never gotten before; an adventure. My life in Chigo was predictable. I knew when I would wake up, when I would go to school, when I would go home, when I would eat, what I would eat. And now I knew from which group I was going to choose a husband.

  Here, on these greener than green hills, with men with kilts, and crazy old ladies, I had no idea what was going to happen next. I didn’t know what was over the next hill. I didn't know what to do, which meant that tomorrow just might be different than today. Even though thinking that I'd still be here tomorrow made my stomach hurt, at least I didn't know.

  The letter I’d opened this morning meant nothing – here.

  After a long time, we rode up over a ridge that opened to a large valley below. A cobblestoned road led the way to a castle – a true-to-life-real castle sat in the middle of the valley. It was squared off and spired at the corners. It was made of dark stones and though there wasn’t a moat, there was a wide creek carving a path in front of it. A bridge, made with the same stones used for the castle, led from the road to the wide open mouth of the huge structure.

  “Holy crap,” I said to myself. “I think I'm really in Scotland in 1750. I’ve never seen a castle before," I said.

  No response.

  “It’s very … big.”

  Ian turned slightly and gave me a fast and quick smile.

  There were more people closer to the bridge and I suddenly thought I might be able to find someone to take care of the baby. Someone here should be able to help.

  “Ah, Corc, we didna expect ye before tomorrow.” A thin, stringy-haired woman with a basket full of what looked like onions stood at the edge of the bridge. She wore a gray dress that was too big for her, and her long suspicious face was aimed my direction.

  “We ran into a problem, Una. Thought it best to get back to Lord Duncan as quickly as possible.”

  “I see.” Una allowed us to pass over the bridge. She followed closely behind and I watched her watch me as she walked purposefully into the castle. We got off the horses in an open courtyard on the other side of the bridge. I either hurt or had no feeling in my body parts.

  With a gentle but strong yank Corc took the baby from me, handed him to Ian and then took my arm again.

  “Ian, take the bairn to the laird. I’ll follow ye with the lass.”

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “Ye’ll no speak, lass. Ye’ll only answer to the laird.

  Ian led the way into the castle. He carried the baby more securely this time.

  I struggled, but nothing was going to free me from Corc as he pulled me into the large entryway. I didn’t see details, but the walls were white and there were paintings and things that looked like rugs with pictures on them.

  I suddenly wasn't so excited about not knowing what was going to happen next.

  Corc dragged me up the stairs and then down a long hallway. When we reached the end of it, I saw Ian open a big door and disappear into the room on the other side.

  Corc's fingers dug in hard. I wanted to kick or hit him, but he was just strong enough to keep me at a safe distance.

  Only a few minutes later, Ian came out of the room with the baby. He nodded at Corc and then turned and went back the direction we’d come.

  “Explain yerself, lass,” Corc said as he threw me into the room and shut the door behind me.

  I stumbled but didn't fall. As I straightened up, I heard my own heavy breathing as I looked around this new space. There was a large fireplace against one far wall. Two chairs and a pair of muddy boots flanked one side of the fireplace. There was an enormous bed halfway across the room and then a large table and chairs on the other side of it. The one room was probably four times the size of Berna's house. A large man was sitting in one of the chairs; a man like I’d never seen before, even with all the strange things I’d seen today. He had big shoulders, but he was taller than the others I could tell even though he was sitting down. He had bright blue eyes and long black hair that wasn’t pulled back in a braid; it fell over his shoulders. He was so still and so unlike anything I'd ever seen that I wondered if he was real.

  “Sit, lass,” he said, but only his lips moved.

  I forced my legs to move forward. I sat in a chair across from him and looked at this strange large creature. Back home, men were tall, but they didn't have shoulders like these guys. They didn't wear long hair, they weren't allowed. They didn't wear kilts; those weren't allowed either. Women weren't even allowed to wear skirts or dresses anymore. He was like a statue I might see if I ever got to go anywhere and see anything.

  Directly behind him I saw something that made me want
to laugh, but not because it was funny. Behind the man, on a short ledge, was a clock. It was short and wide and looked new and unscratched but I didn't think it was working. Somehow, its presence calmed me. Finally - something I knew.

  “Where are ye from?” he asked.

  I couldn’t tell him. I knew that Chigo used to be called Chicago, but I didn’t know if it existed in 1750. Even if it did, it was very far away from this castle. And so far, the people I'd told hadn't taken it well.

  “I . . . I can’t remember."

  He looked at me again, his eyebrows coming together.

  “What happened to the bairn?”

  "He was bitten by a wolf. I saved him.”

  “How?”

  “I threw a rock at it – the wolf.”

  “Did ye kill it?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  “What did the wolf look like?”

  “A wolf. A big ugly, hairy monster of a wolf.” I didn't know what else to say. I wasn't even totally sure it had been a wolf.

  “Did it have any special marks?”

  I thought back. “I think it had a mark on its forehead, but I can’t be sure.”

  His eyes squinted

  I waited.

  “Where?” he said.

  “Where what?”

  “Where was the animal that ye hit?”

  “I don’t know. I was close to the woods when I heard the baby cry. Once I got the baby from the woods, I went toward the woman named Berna’s house. I probably walked for just over an hour before getting to her house and I was walking away from the sun.” It was the best I could do.

  The man stood. I was right, he was tall. I leaned back and the chair scooted slightly.

  “What is yer name?”

  “Kally Bright.”

  “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t lock ye in the dungeon.”

  “I saved the baby.”

  “I’ll see if I can find yer wolf – dead – to prove yer story. Ye’d better hope that I do,” he said as he glared down at me. “If I do, ye wilna be harmed. Corc!”