by Zarik
“We cannae take ye through the stones. I don’t believe it’s even how ye got here. Magic.” Zarik made a distasteful face when he said the word. “I’ll have several of my men escort ye back to Fraser land.”
“But, I don’t know them.”
“Did ye not say ye were Fraser?”
“Yes, but I’m a Fraser from the year 2013. See my clothes? Could I even purchase them here? Or my backpack?” Tsarina held up her pink backpack as her evidence.
The three Highlanders eyed one another and eyed her, noticing that more of their clan warriors were beginning to surround them, wiping battle from their blades and faces.
Torradan grabbed the backpack from her and shook his head. “The lass is correct. She’d not be able to purchase any of the items here. What’s in the backpack?” The word sounded strange on his tongue.
“My things. I was on vacation, doing research in Scotland. And here I am now.”
“This is not happening.” Zarik was looking rather unhappy, which Torradan and Drostan took as more than amusing.
“She came for ye.” Torradan was still amused. “The auld man was right. But tell me, Tsarina, did they warn ye of what ye were going to get? I mean, look at him.”
Zarik elbowed his brother. Hard. “She’s no here for me.”
“Well, you can’t take me to the Fraser’s. They really won’t know me. Please. Just take me back with you until you can figure out how to get me back.”
“Fine. Let’s take her. And Tor, hang on to that backpack.” Zarik shot her a glare that dared her to argue about it. No matter her story, truth or not, honor would not allow him to leave a lass unprotected. “I’m in a hurry to get home and the sun is leaving us.” Zarik called everyone together and decided to skip cleaning up. It was better to just get back to the keep and jump into the loch after they got there.
****
Tsarina glanced at the landscape the entire way back to their keep, which she thought was more like a castle. It was beautiful. So much destruction and modernizing had been done to the Scotland she visited in 2013. It was a shame. This Scotland was pure. Well, if you didn’t include all the bloodshed.
It even smelled fresh.
As they went along, she rode with Drostan, who seemed none too pleased with sharing his horse with her. They rode behind Zarik, which gave her the opportunity to check him out. He was tall. She had thought Galen tall, but this Highlander was at least six foot seven. He was thicker and more confident. His long blond hair was down to almost his waist and he had two small braids. One on each side of his face, with the back flying free. Zarik’s blue eyes were magnificent. Clear, yet sparkly. Brilliant. Piercing when he looked at you.
Perhaps trying to win him over wouldn’t be such a hardship on her part after all. Too bad she couldn’t thank the old woman for her meddling.
When they arrived, Torradan let out a call to the gate watcher. Was that what they were called? Tsarina smiled to herself at her thoughts. She would get to write history while living in the midst of her research. Maybe there was a way she could get it to someone in the future. Too bad she didn't bring extra pens and notebooks. There's no way she'd likely be able to get any of the research supplies she was used to around here.
On the way to the large gates, there were numerous small homes placed here and there for miles. Upon entering the gates, there were towers and the main castle. Other buildings and storage places. The castle itself was at least six stories. It looked to be very well build, although rather dark in appearance. It was obvious that those living there and those caring for it, took pride in having a clean place. So much for all things historic being dirty.
People ran up to them to greet the warriors on another victory. She listened as some older man spoke with Zarik and patted his back as he got off his horse. As they noticed her, they all gave her odd looks. Her clothes, she guessed.
“That’s Zarik’s father, Niall. The auld man with him is Argus.” Torradan explained as though he could read her thoughts. “Argus has long predicted yer arrival to Niall, who puts complete faith in the old Druid. Zarik wasn’t convinced. He doesnae believe in magic. He’ll think of another way to explain yer odd clothing.”
“What about you. Did you think Argus would be correct?”
“It didn’t matter; it wasn’t supposed to have any bearing on me at all. If ye showed up,” Drostan shrugged. “ye were to be Zarik’s. However, now I find ye with me while Zarik tries to ignore you.”
Argus turned and smiled as he looked up at Tsarina on the horse. Faster than she thought he’d be able to walk, he was at their side.
“I’ve waited many years for ye, lass. I'm glad ye've finally came. Thank ye. It no could have been an easy task.” He looked toward Zarik. “And it will get even more difficult know. Why are ye riding with Drostan?” Argus took her hand and placed a kiss on it, while shooting a displeased look at Zarik.
“It’s just where I ended up. So, you know how I got here?” Tsarina watched the old man nod. “And you know why I’m supposed to be here?” She saw the smile flash across his face and as he nodded again. “Can you help me get back?” That was it. His smile was gone.
“Lass, ye cannae go back. Ye belong here. Zarik needs ye. I need ye. We, the clan, need ye.” The elderly man eyed Drostan. “Why did ye not insist she ride with her betrothed?”
Drostan shrugged and rolled his eyes. Argus knew that when Zarik made up his mind, it’s just the way it was. No matter what anyone else thought or said. Arguing was pointless. It would only end with Zarik plundering someone.
“He doesnae seem interested. So, I’m not much help if I fail. I should simply go home.” Tsarina was matter-of-fact. “Betrothed? He doesn’t know me; I can’t be betrothed to him. Isn’t there some ceremony and doesn’t he have to ask?”
“Betrothed? Yes, it’s fitting and Niall and I will tell him later. I know who ye are, lass, even if he doubts me. Deep down, he kens why ye are here and how ye got here. He'll just no admit it for a time. Mayhap not ever. Nothing worth anything ever comes easy. Ye’ll see in time. He’ll be interested. Zarik’s just going to be difficult.” With that, she watched Argus walk back over to Niall.
She was at Drostan’s mercy as Zarik still hadn’t seen fit to even look her way. So much for her knight in shining armor. Or was that sword bearing Highlander with flowing kilt?
****
Drostan escorted her in and placed her in what he called capable hands. The young girl couldn’t have been older than thirteen.
Tsarina was given a brief tour of the main castle area and shown to her room. A tub, of sorts, was brought up for her and several people carried boiling water up for her. She was already missing faucets. Did they really step into that boiling hot steamy water? She’d have third degree burns everywhere.
Cringing at the thought of everywhere, she pulled off her clothing and wrapped in what they called a towel. It definitely wasn’t fluffy and absorbent like she was used to. It had a rough texture. There was no fabric softener or dryer sheets here.
A knock on the door pulled her away from degrading the towel further. “Come in.” Tsarina watched as the young girl came back in, mostly hidden between clothing she had flung over her shoulders and in her arms.
“The MacKinnon sent these to ye. They were his wife’s. Ye look about her size.” The girl rambled as she placed everything in a chair and began spreading them carefully across the bed. She hoped that soon Zarik would welcome her with the gifts Argus and Niall had seen fit to have purchased for her. She was looking forward to a lady around the house to talk and arrange clothing for. “She died several years ago in some clan battle. No one ever speaks of it and I wasnae here when it occurred to ken the details of it, ye ken.”
“I can’t accept these. They aren’t mine. I have several items in my backpack if you'll be kind enough to get it for me.”
The girl looked at her with horror. “Now ye’ll not be wearing any of yer clothing if it looks anything like that. Ye are to
be mistress of the house soon and Zarik and Niall would not have ye looking as though ye were to be paid for services. Ye get my meaning?” She eyed Tsarina.
“I’m not a paid whore.” The girl gasped and Tsarina almost wished that she’d have held her tongue. Almost. “These aren’t my clothing. Won’t it stir up unpleasant memories?”
“Don’t ye be worrying on it. They’ve sat and not been used for a number of years. It’s nice to see them being used. The MacKinnon says they’ve sat far too long.”
Tsarina reached over to touch the fine fabric. Clothing in her time was not made like this. Perfect material. Soft. Expensive. She’d have to pay a fortune for silk clothing.
“’Tis beautiful. Is it not?” The maid looked pleased that Tsarina was responding. “Now let’s get ye in that bath and dressed for dinner. Yer hair looks more than a little tangled.”
“What’s your name?”
“Igrid, m’lady.” She curtsied slightly and went back to gathering soap and items for Tsarina’s bath.
“I’ll not have you wait on me. I’m no one special and can handle my own bath. I’ll be down later.”
“Oh, m’lady, ye may verra well be able to do yer bath, but ye’ll never get into the dress and stays. That is most impossible for one person. I’m happy to help. I’m to be yer ladies maid according to Argus. So, I’ll be by yer side for whatever ye wish of me.”
Tsarina signed in resignation. “Would you at least stop calling me m’lady?”
“Oh no, m’lady. It’d not be proper.”
With that Tsarina gave into her fate of being bathed by someone else and dressed as though she were an infant.
Privacy was a thing of her past.
****
By the time Igrid was leading her downstairs for dinner, she realized that Zarik had avoided her as if she were a four-headed dragon. Niall and Argus continued to welcome her and basically hold her hostage. They had both stopped in to check on her in the hours between arrival and the late dinner. There would be no way to convince either to help her go back.
Igrid had been nothing other than under her feet. She’d never get used to that. The girl had even suggested a nap, as ladies do get tired. Really? She should have tried that with her boss.
Her boss. What would she do here to keep her busy? She could research, but how would she ever share her findings? Would they even let her nose around? Weren’t people of this time paranoid about what they considered nosy? She’d likely find herself drawn and quartered. Would her boss even remember she was employed there if she remained in this time?
What was she saving Zarik from? And why did she care that he avoided her? Could it really be that important to history that the two of them wed?
Tsarina never believed in fate or love at first site. If it didn’t work with someone, there was someone else waiting later on. There was no one person as everyone seemed intent on convincing her. Shouldn’t she feel sparks? Or be unable to breathe in his presence? She had to admit, he was hot. A romp between the sheets would be fun. But love? He seemed more of a beast, albeit an attractive one.
****
Zarik saw Igrid and Tsarina coming down the stairs. She looked lovely in his mother’s blue silk dress. Her hair was partially pulled up with some hanging lose in the back and on the sides. She looked absolutely lovely. Although, she seemed to have no jewelry. She’d need a few necklaces.
He shook his head wondering why her lack of jewelry would bother him. Perhaps it was because his mother had always had an abundance of trinkets and jewels that she claimed she didn’t need or want yet cherished every piece his father spoiled her with.
Annoyed, he realized that Torradan had gotten up and was approaching her, hand out to show her to her seat. Where would she sit? Zarik spared a glance over to his father who looked just as mesmerized by her appearance as he had.
Torradan placed a kiss on her hand and placed her arm in his as he lead her the rest of the way down the stairs.
Niall cleared his throat loud enough to allow him to motion the two of them toward him. “She’ll sit at our table with us, Torradan. After all, she’s soon to be family. Tsarina, we’ll seat you between Torradan and Zarik. The two of ye,” Niall looked pointedly at Zarik. “need to get to know one another. I’m looking forward to publicly announcing the betrothal.”
The man’s smile was warm and Tsarina found herself not being able to argue with him.
“There is no betrothal father. We’ll be sending her back to the Fraser’s.” Zarik took a drink of ale and slammed the cup on the table.
“There is no way to send her back, lad. Even if we could, we’d not. Ye need her. We need her. Ye’ll see. Now why not propose? It’s a good match and people have married knowing one another less. Love will grow. It did for yer mother and I. I approve of the match, so ye may ask her any time.” Niall was convinced this was the woman Argus had spoken of for years. He didn’t want to waste time. There were grandchildren to be had and a clan to hand over to his son. How wonderful it would be to live the rest of his years without worry over clan matters and listening to the shrieks and laughter of his grandchildren.
Chapter Four
Zarik thought dinner would never be over. It was bad enough that they had it so late, Niall liked to wait for the warriors to return from battle when they weren’t expected to be gone days or weeks. He’d have rather grabbed some dried meat and cheese and sat in his chamber.
Then he had to sit next to Tsarina. The entire meal. She smelled wonderful, like nothing he’d ever smelled before. Sweet yet perfumed and tart. Every now and again, her leg or arm would brush his. It was making him insane. It had clearly been too long since he’d been with a woman. He needed to remedy it. Soon.
His father wasn’t giving him leave either. Every time he tried to bid his goodnight, he was stopped. His father needed a hobby. Perhaps a woman of his own. After all, he wasn’t that old. And it had been a reasonable amount of time since his mother passed. It was time for Niall to move on. It would be expected.
“I think I’ll go upstairs now. Thank you for a wonderful meal.” Tsarina looked at Niall. While the food was different, it still tasted very well. It was spiced, though differently than she would have made it. The meat had been tender and juicy and she wasn’t really certain of some of the other things she ate. She felt it better not to ask for fear of what it might be. She definitely didn't want any faces or gasps of horror to make her seem ungrateful. People in this time had to work much harder to obtain their meals.
Zarik signed with relief. She’d be away from him and he’d be able to retire to his room to have a few drinks in front of his fire. Peacefully alone.
“I’ll escort ye, Tsarina.” Torradan told her as he pulled her chair back from the table. “We wouldn’t want ye slipping on the steps in the low torch light.”
“It’s not necessary, Tor. I’ll take her.” The words had passed through Zarik’s lips before he was aware. What the hell had made him say that? He’d been trying to get away from her all night, not take her to her bedroom. Damn his brother for always trying to be the more polite of the brothers. In most instances, it wouldn't have bothered him a bit. But there was something that was pulling him to be protective of the Fraser girl. It was likely because he'd been the first to see her.
As Zarik took Tsarina’s hand from Tor, he looked over to his father and saw him and Argus smiling at each other like children in a cookie jar. “Dinnae worry about coming back down, Zarik. Argus and I were going to retire as well.” Niall’s eyes glimmered.
“I’ll not be back down this eve. As soon as I get Tsarina to her room, I’ll be going to mine. It’s been a long day.”
He glanced at Tor as he realized he didn’t have a clue as to where her room was. The keep was large. He figured it might be on the third or fourth floor. He was on the fifth.
“Next to yours. The room right before.” Tor smiled and walked away.
“Lovely.” Zarik muttered under his breath. It was the room th
at would belong to his wife, if ever he were to marry. It seemed his father was trying to force him into running into battle without his shield.
“I don’t mean to keep you from anything. I can find my way back to my room easily enough.” Tsarina didn’t want him to think it bothered her that he seemed annoyed that she’d been placed next to his room. She hadn’t known it was his room next to hers. But didn’t think there was a need to be bothered by it. They were just rooms. He should have just allowed his brother to bring her up.
They didn’t speak as they went up the stairs. Zarik slowly lifted her hand and kissed it as he left her at her door. “Sleep well, Tsarina.”
It had taken every ounce of determination to not pull her hand from his lips. Where his lips touched her skin, it burned. A fire like she’d never felt. Especially from such a simple gesture. Did he feel it too? Judging from his lack of expression, she'd never be able to tell.
“Goodnight, Zarik.” She quickly went inside and latched her door.
****
The next morning Niall and Argus were at the table waiting for breakfast as Tsarina came down the stairs looking as though she’d not slept a wink. Both men stood as she approached.
“Good morning, Tsarina. How are ye this morning? It looks as though ye’ve not rested well.” Niall inquired as she sat.
Tsarina ran her hands through her hair and smiled. “Good morning. I’m well. Perhaps just not used to the room.”
“Were you warm enough, my dear?” Argus inquired.
“Oh yes, Igrid kept my fire almost too warm. Does she really need to sleep on the floor in a corner? Why not let her sleep in her room? I’ve really no need of her, especially overnight.” She hoped that she sounded pleasant and not ungrateful. But the poor girl.
“She’s yer maid, Tsarina. In yer room and by yer side is where she need be. She knows this. It’s no discomfort to her to see to yers.” Argus gave Tsarina a sympathetic look as she glanced back at Igrid who stood behind her chair even now, getting ready to fill her glass.