The Raid of Balvenie and the Maiden Who Survived

by Cheri Gillard

Three weeks had passed and Jean was no closer to going home than the night she’d arrived at Dunnottar Castle. Angus MacKay was trying to woo her to the point that it had become completely laughable. Though Jean wasn’t laughing. She wanted him to leave her alone. The sight of him made her want to run in the other direction. When she was minding her own business out in the yard on a sunny afternoon, he came upon her and carried on like they were already lovers, speaking too intimately as if they knew each other well. When she was breaking her fast in the main hall of the manor house, he brought his trencher to sit with her and sat too close, touching his leg along hers on the bench, as though they were betrothed. She scooted away every time, but he didn’t take any hints. When she was doing anything she could find to pass the time so she wouldn’t go absolutely mad waiting for her chance to return to her own home, he always sought her out to flirt with her, constantly flipping his hair in a way that was irritating Jean just to watch. But she weathered his attentions as best as she could, not wanting to anger William Keith or trigger some kind of sudden, forced wedding. At least if she seemed to be slowly responding to their plans to win her over and accept a marriage proposal, it bought her more time.

  Horatius came and went at Dunnottar on his own schedule, always wearing different extravagant clothes each time he reappeared, as though the garments were as easy for him to obtain as by the snap of his fingers—unlike his brother who only wore the black tattered close-fitting apparel he’d had on the first time they’d met. The contrast between the two brothers was more striking each time Jean saw them. Haggard Panahasi always guarded and mysterious, and magnificent Horatius, dazzling and spontaneous. While Panahasi was circumspect and never over drank, Horatius was impulsive and couldn’t consume enough drink. His casual airs were new to Jean. She’d never met anyone like him before. To her, he seemed to be trying too hard to prove to everyone he was having a good time.

  Only a few times did Jean see Horatius completely sober, but his eyes held haunting pain. The other times, he was usually so far into his cups, there was nothing authentic or appealing about him. Drunk or not, he continued to strike up conversations with her, but he acted indifferent to her responses. Clearly he wasn’t that interested in her particularly. He just seemed determined to womanize and toy with people. He often offered her elaborate expensive gifts, so unexpectedly it was as though they were conjured out of nowhere, but of course she always refused them. He’d toss aside the tokens as though they meant nothing to him and move on to flirt with other girls in the Great Hall. Some of those lasses seemed less cautious than Jean and soon they’d surreptitiously take leave of the hall, surely to meet up with Horatius elsewhere to do what was no business of Jean’s.

  One day, when Jean was watching Laird William Keith and Lady Margaret’s children with the nurse out in the yard, she was helping their young daughter Agnes, who was just barely two years old, weave a wreath of wild flowers, when MacKay trotted into their midst, out of breath like he’d been looking for her and suddenly, unexpectedly found her around the side of the stables.

  “Oh, there you are,” he said with a forced smile that seemed to be covering up a bit of frustration that he would need to look for her at all. “I need to talk to you.”

  Jean looked at him with impatience then remembered her goal. She didn’t want to anger him—and he did seem to have a short temper and little patience—so to appease him, she mustered a pleasant, questioning gaze, as though she actually wanted to hear what he had to say.

  “Well?” he said. “Are you coming?”

  “I’m tending to Lady Margaret’s children. And Agnes and I still have some work to do on our wreaths, don’t we Agnes?” she asked the toddler, who was sitting next to her in the grass ripping off the tops of small white flowers from their stems.

  With a great show of imposition, MacKay sat down in the grass too.

  Jean scooted away so his knee couldn’t touch hers anymore and went back to splitting the stem of a flower and pulling another through the slit up to its bloom. She let MacKay stew.

  After glaring at the little girl, Agnes—though the child didn’t even notice, which made him huff and puff more—he finally said, “There is going to be a dinner and dance on the morrow and I want you to accompany me.”

  A panic swelled in Jean. Was this it? Was this the occasion MacKay had been waiting for to pressure her to accept his hand? The last thing she wanted was to attend any dance, and especially not with him.

  She tried to form the right reply, frantically testing words in her mind, looking for some way to put him off without angering him more. She stalled by telling Agnes she’d pulled up enough flowers now. Then she fitted the string of flowers she was working on around Agnes’ head to see how much longer it needed to be.

  “Jean?” MacKay snapped. “There is no reason I can imagine for you not to accompany me. I will count on you to be there with me.”

  Jean kept her eyes on the flowers in her hands, moving her lips to begin a response, but loathe to say anything that would lead her one step closer into his trap.

  “Jean?” he said impatiently. “Jean!” The edge of his voice was sharp.

  “She cannot.”

  Jean looked up by the stable door to see who’d said that. She didn’t know where Panahasi had come from but she was glad to see him for once. He’d never flirted with her, which had raised her appraisal of him considerably. If he was going to somehow help her find an excuse to avoid this, she would be immeasurably grateful to him.

  MacKay squirmed with obvious annoyance then shot to his feet.

  “This is none of your concern,” he said. “I’m speaking to my…to Lady Jean and your presence is not welcome here right now.”

  “Nay, nay,” Jean said in as soothing a voice as she could. “It’s okay. Certainly, aye, absolutely, it’s okay.” She looked at Panahasi hopefully, wondering what he was about when he’d said she could not accompany MacKay.

  MacKay began to bluster, but Panahasi cut him off. “She has already agreed to assist me with an undertaking that will keep her attentions elsewhere.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” MacKay said to Jean instead of Panahasi. “What are you doing with him?” he said full of accusation.

  “It’s a private matter,” Panahasi said.

  Oblivious to what the adults were doing around her, Agnes handed a wad of flowers bunched in her chubby little hands to Jean, babbling a long string of unintelligible words. Jean took the opportunity to disengage from the conversation, which made MacKay even more agitated.

  He took his leave with an angry curse, making sure each of them knew he was vexed.

  When he was out of earshot and Agnes was distracted by a fat green caterpillar crawling through the grass, Jean said, “I’m having trouble remembering exactly what our arrangements are.”

  “We haven’t made them yet,” Panahasi replied dryly. “But when I heard that ass so clumsily force himself on you, it seemed a good time to step in. I do have a matter to discuss with you. When you are free of this task, will you meet me by the fountain?”

  Intrigued by the giant man who carefully hid his every emotion and guarded his thoughts so completely, Jean said, “I can go with you now. The children’s nurse can take Agnes back with the other children. Come on, baby,” Jean said, getting up from the ground and lifting Agnes, who shifted in Jean’s arms to reach back down toward her pile of flowers in the grass. With Agnes sideways in Jean’s arms, Jean carried her across the yard to where the nurse was playing a game with Agnes’ older brothers. Agnes fussed a moment but then quickly became distracted by a wooden toy wagon her brother had abandoned in the lawn.

  Jean followed Panahasi to the fountain, where she sat on a nearby bench and Panahasi stood an acceptable distance in front of her with his hands held behind his back. He spoke evenly and quietly, his face more serious than she’d ever seen it.

  “I will get right to the point. MacKay means to wed you. You clearly wish otherwise. William K
eith has the power to force your hand. Am I correct so far?”

  Jean nodded, intrigued by what he might have to offer. His assessment was exactly correct, which meant maybe he had a way out for her.

  “I have my own goal which will remain undisclosed for now, but it may be that your goal and mine can both be achieved if we work together. Shall I continue?”

  “Indeed,” Jean said, even more interested. Without realizing it, she’d shifted up closer to the edge of the bench.

  “Discretion will be most imperative. Have I your pledge of silence, even if once you hear my proposal, you choose not to cooperate?”

  “Aye.” Jean couldn’t wait to hear it.

  “First, you must trust me. Secondly, I am going to tell you things that you must simply hear but not think on too much. If you ponder them too heavily, your thoughts may be overheard.”

  Jean looked around, wondering who was going to overhear, at the same time wondering why he would say her thoughts would be heard.

  “Those who would hear you will not be seen here. I will tell you more, but you must guard your mind. This is why. I am not of this world. I have been exiled to this accursed place for reasons that don’t concern you. But I am here and I wish to leave. You can understand a fraction of my frustrations with exile because of your own circumstances. My desire is for us to exchange favors. If you are willing to play a ruse, I will reward you by returning you to your home.”

  “What kind of ruse? Is it dangerous?” Jean asked matter-of-factly. His proposal genuinely caught her interest.

  “You will first accept the betrothal of Angus MacKay.”

  That ended her interest. She would not allow that foolishness to occur. “No need to go any further. I thought you meant to save me from just that. I will not do such a thing.”

  “Hear me out. It will not end as you think.”

  She lowered herself back onto the bench, allowing him one more minute to explain just how becoming betrothed to MacKay wouldn’t end disastrously.

  Panahasi continued, but only after letting the slightest show of his annoyance slip through his secretive façade. “Once you have accepted the betrothal, you will entice Horatius into a compromising situation. You will seduce him, and in the process, drug him—I will provide the elixir—and that will conclude your obligation.”

  Jean was aghast. “Are you serious? I ruin my reputation and risk molestation? I think not.” She stood completely now and started to walk away.

  “I can undo what happened to your family.”

  She stopped. Slowly turning around, she titled her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you playing at, pray tell?”

  “You believe in the one you humans call God?”

  “I did. Before. I’m not inclined to anymore.”

  “You’d be wise not to abandoned your faith so easily.”

  “How dare you?” she said, facing him boldly, even having to lift her chin high to look him in the face. “You haven’t experienced what I did! I prayed, I trusted, and look what happened!”

  “There is in fact a God, and an entire world of unseen things. I can arrange for you go into that Unseen Realm, to be taken out of the Chronos Band—the thing you call Time—back to a period before the attack at Balvenie Castle. You could then act to prevent what occurred and regain your family, your life.”

  “You are mad.” She spun to leave.

  His hand caught her arm. “I speak truth.”

  Jean could only dream such of far-fetched fantasy were possible.

  Panahasi leaned over and picked up a long stick in the yard.

  “Do you know the story of the priests who turned rods to snakes in order to show their power to Moses?”

  She nodded slowly, worried about what he was about to do to her with the stick. He had a frightening air about him. Suddenly the stick was writhing in his hand, a deadly thick snake with fangs and a flicking tongue shooting in and out from its oval head.

  She jumped away with a short squeal, and put the bench between her and Panahasi.

  He quickly snatched the snake just behind its head in one of his enormous hands, and with the other hand, he whipped out one of his daggers and cut off its head.

  “It’s a simple parlor trick, really,” he said as he hurled the body and head aside in the grass. “It is an easy transmutation to accomplish. It is useless really, unless it proves to you there are things you cannot see, that a more true reality exists.”

  Jean’s mind was racing.

  “Don’t think too much,” Panahasi said. “You will give me away to the Celestials who hear your thoughts. They don’t hear me, soulless Nephilim wretch that I am. They can’t even perceive my whereabouts, but from you they can ascertain that I am near if you have too great an emotional reaction to me or my words. I don’t want them paying too much attention to any of this. You must guard your mind. Be disciplined! Don’t make me sorry I assumed you were strong.”

  She stopped thinking. She would just have to jump off a cliff, so to speak, to trust this strange giant and give what he suggested a chance to work. If there was any possibility of truth in his words, she was desperate enough to try it. And if he was wrong? What would it cost her? Merely her reputation and honor. And perhaps get her harmed in the process by that drunken brother of his. She shuddered. Then she strengthened her will and stood up tall and resolutely.

  “Fine. I don’t know what you’re really talking about. And I don’t want to. Simply tell me what to do, and I’ll obey. What more do I have to lose?”

  “You must go to that celebration tomorrow after all. Let that imbecile ask for your hand and accept him. Let him believe you love him even. His response to your betrayal with my brother must be extreme. I need him to release himself to the influence of other powers. The more angry he is, the more completely he will surrender his mind to another. Feed his ego with as many lies as it takes. When the time is right, I will give you the elixir. You will seduce my brother, then mix it in his drink. He is easily distracted with his need for libation. It will be done easily enough.”

  Jean suppressed her repulsion for the entire scheme. She took a deep breath. At least now she had a course to follow. Something to do to save her from such a disagreeable end as being Angus MacKay’s wife.

  “I will await word from you,” she said and went back to play with Agnes, hoping the child would keep her mind on other things.

  PROPOSAL