Son and Throne (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 11)

by Diana Knightley

  "He's too sweet a boy to be dangerous, but I'm glad he is protecting his sister. I hope someone is protecting him too."

  "Aye, me as well, mo reul-iuil."

  "I think I need to sleep.”

  We listened to the nothingness outside, snow coming down all around us, muffling sound, enveloping us in quiet, our sleeping bags toasty warm from their heater.

  In the morning Magnus held the flap of the door open and looked out. “Och, tis a blanket of snow.”

  I sat up, my hair matted and sticking all over the place, to see. “Beautiful, how many inches?”

  “Looks tae be three inches of snow, twill be about three more.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Anyone can see it if ye look at the clouds.”

  I fell back down to the bedding. “I feel weak and hot and ouchy, this is not enough padding under my joints, everything hurts. Mind if I stay inside the tent?”

  “Aye, stay and rest, I’m going to go relieve m’self and then explore and watch.” He tossed me the walk-n-talk.

  “If you happen to see a Starbucks will you get me a latte?”

  After an hour or two, checking in by radio, I got up to use the bathroom and then sat in the door of the tent looking out. He sauntered up.

  “I love watching you walk through this landscape, you look like you belong here.”

  He looked down at me with a glint in his eye. “Yet I am out of time by centuries, how can this be?”

  “It’s the landscape, it’s timeless, like you...”

  He crouched and warmed his hands over the fire he started before he left. I had managed to keep it going, although I felt weak and tired.

  “I feel verra out of time. I just watched a winter hare hoppin’ around. I might hae hunted him for meat, but thought tae m’self, ‘he is survivin’ in the sixteenth century, without a man killin’ him for food, and I am just visitin’. Tis nae fair for a time traveler tae kill him for meat.’”

  I said, “Plus, we have the rations.”

  “Aye, but we are low on rations, tomorrow I will need tae hunt the hare.”

  “Lady Mairead will come tomorrow, we are not going to run out.”

  “Are ye feelin’ better?”

  “Yes, a little, I think, tired though. Anybody malicious about?”

  “Nae. We can stay here once more, and tis a good thing, the snow is still falling.”

  That evening I fell in and out of sleep, a little feverish still, sore, my duties were ‘taking care of myself’ while Magnus ‘made the meal, stoked the fire, got me things, and checked on me.’ And then at night, just before bed, the sleeping bags warmed from their solar-powered heaters, he brought me the bowl of snow so that I could pack the cold compresses around my breasts again. I was not wanting a feverish dream like the night before, that had scared the hell out of me. No adrenaline rush, just sleep, and patience, while we waited for help to arrive.

  Forty-three - Kaitlyn

  The next morning I woke up and my fever had broken. My breasts felt lighter. I got dressed, put on my parka, and went out with Magnus into the snow. It was a wonderland, snow piled all around the tent.

  “Wow! Gorgeous! Pristine!” I yanked up my skirts and relieved myself while joking, “Now here is not pristine anymore.”

  I packed a snowball and chased him with it, but he was fast, quick on his feet, and spun and high-stepped through the snow... I had on skirts and had recently been sick — I stopped, arms hanging. “I can’t chase you! Too exhausting!”

  He pivoted fast, scooped snow and had it down the back of my dress. Then he picked me up and held me while I squealed, snow melting all down my back. Finally, laughing, he let me go and I wiggled to get the snow to fall to the ground. “Brrrr, that was freezing.” I pretended to not be doing anything then scooped snow and flung it at him.

  “Och!” He scooped a snowball and I scooped a snowball and we both packed them.

  I asked, “What are you doing, Master Magnus?”

  “Naethin’, just holdin’ some snow...” And then we were off. I chased him and then he chased me, flinging snow at each other and laughing, and then I fell into a snowbank. He helped me out and kissed me: warm glow, red cheeks, puffy breaths, big strong arms around me. Fucking sexy.

  “I think I love this bank on the creek, when we get back let’s find it, let’s build a house here. We can bring the kids and show them where we camped in the sixteenth century.”

  “Tis agreed. I ken how tae get here again.”

  He passed me one of the walk-n-talks. “Stay, let me look around, I will be back in a few moments, or I will call.”

  He was off. I brushed snow off the tent and the packs and drank some coffee, probably the last we would have for a while. I surveyed the landscape: tree limbs weighed down by snow, everything muffled and quiet and still, except the creek, rushing a bit, iced along the edges.

  His voice a moment later. “Pack the gear, we should move.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “About thirty minutes.”

  I packed up that tent in ten minutes flat.

  Forty-four - Kaitlyn

  As we rode, Magnus gave me tips. He rode his horse a bit faster and then watched as I caught up. He drew back and made me lead the way. On level ground, sure we weren’t followed, he had me ride the horse ahead, and then he’d yell, “Left!” and and then “Right!” and I’d convince Hurley to turn.

  He caught up and I said, “Maybe someday I’ll really learn how to...”

  “What, tae ride?”

  “Yeah, with practice.”

  “Ye are ridin’ the horse now. Hurley is listenin’ tae ye, followin’ yer commands. Ye arna waiting for someday, tis already here.”

  “Really?”

  He had his hand on his knee, elbow cocked out, at ease, reins held surely between his legs. He effortlessly turned Cynric to watch me ride. I straightened my back.

  “Och, look at ye, all m’dreams...”

  I grinned, “What?”

  “Ye hae yer hair loose and wild as if ye hae been bedded, a high color tae yer cheeks, the snow all around, and ye are on the back of a horse, a plaid around yer shoulders. Ye could pass for a Scotswoman.”

  “Oh you like this whole thing, Master Magnus?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Aye, I think we only hae another few moments afore we should pitch the tent, it seems as if night is comin’ on.”

  “It’s full day, night isn’t for hours.”

  He chuckled. “Fine, I will attempt tae be patient.”

  “Do you think that men are truly following us? From the castle?”

  “I would if I were them. They ken I hae valuable things and I daena hae men tae fight alongside me.”

  “You have me, I’m packing and I’m a terrible arse.”

  “That ye are.”

  We rode for a while longer until we found a small glade, snowy and muddy, but pretty all the same. We made camp, we set a transmitter, built a fire, and warmed our dinner. I jotted down some notes about the day: the temperature, the sky, a tree I saw, how far we had traveled... Many of the details supplied by Magnus. I wrote as if talking to the kids, as in ‘your father told me’ and ‘your father says’... It seemed like they should know how freaking cool he was.

  I sang him a song while we ate, “On top of Spaghetti all covered in cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed...”

  He thought it was very funny so I made him sing along and then introduced him to a whole list of food-related songs. His favorite ended up being Ham Sandwich where each chorus is sung in a different voice and he sang some hilarious ones and I did some too.

  We were across from each other, not touching, watching each other. The firelight danced in his eyes. He was smiling and laughing. I said, “I like your sparkles so much.”

  “I like yer sparkles as well.” He grinned.

  “Okay, a game, I say: There once was a skunk who—”

  “What is a skunk?”

>   “A skunk is one of those little animals with a stripe down the back and it sprays a gawdawful stink if startled. You know, it’s probably called something else...?”

  “Nae. I daena ken, it has a spray that smells?”

  “Yes, it’s a little black animal with a white stripe, you’ve got them, surely?”

  “What size is it?”

  “Like a cat I think. Like a raccoon? Like between those two.”

  “Okay, a striped stinkin’ cat. What did ye call it?”

  “A skunk, now here’s the thing, it’s not always stinky, but if it gets scared it raises its tail and sprays you. Its smell can be smelled everywhere. It’s really hard to get off you. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “There once was a skunk who...” I giggled. “I forgot to think of something... okay, here, a skunk who fancied himself a gentleman. Now you say, ‘fortunately...’ and finish the story.”

  “Fortunately he kent a tailor who built him pants for his wee tail tae—”

  “Big bushy tail.”

  “Big bushy tail tae hang out.”

  “Now I add to it with, unfortunately... he was invited to the ball but come to find out no bushy tails were allowed.”

  “Och, I see how tis played... Fortunately he had a verra long sword and he went tae the ball and said, ‘I am here tae dance. And ye canna stop me.’” He added, “Tis a mythological Scottish skunk.”

  “Unfortunately, there was a beautiful lady that was standing to the side and no one had asked her to dance.”

  “Fortunately the skunk kent she was an iora rua and that under her dress was a verra bushy tail, so he strode up and said, ‘Madame Iora Rua, would ye care tae dance?’”

  “Unfortunately she didn’t know how to dance to bagpipes.”

  “Och, tis silly, everyone can dance tae pipes, ye just do.”

  I grinned. “Is that your part? You didn’t say fortunately.”

  “Fortunately, the skunk said, ‘Madame Iora Rua, I hae lost interest in dancin’, now I am thinkin’ on what ye are hidin’ under yer dress and I was wonderin’ if ye might shew me.’”

  “Unfortunately she became outraged, ‘How dare you be so forward, Master Skunk?’ But secretly she was a huge fan of nuts and wondered if he might have some that he might share with her.”

  Magnus laughed. “Och! She has a wit, now fortunately, the skunk is undaunted by her outrage, he kent she was willin’, she couldna take her eyes from his sword.”

  “Unfortunately she needed Master Skunk to actually make the first move, she was a lady after all, and—”

  “Fortunately Master skunk is nae listenin’ anymore as he is a man of action, he will tell her, ‘Madame Iora Rua, ye are the most beautiful woman in the room and ye hae a sparkle tae yer eyes when ye look at m’sword, I believe ye are wantin’ tae be bedded.’”

  “Unfortunately she was offended by his words, but still...” I leaned back on my arms, “she spread her legs just a little...” I spread my legs. They were under my skirts but I could see in his eyes it was just as effective as if I had been naked.

  “Och,” Magnus ran his hand through his hair. “I am forgettin’ the point of the game as ye hae just...” He grinned. “Tis how ye win?”

  “Hell yeah, first person who forgets how to keep going loses. You sir have lost to me, I wonder what I win?”

  “I ken it, I will explain it in the tent.”

  “As long as your explaining, kind sir, includes some tongue, I am ready to listen.”

  He stood and took me by the hand and led me into the tent.

  We crawled through the door, dropped our parkas to the floor and our outer clothes and then we both slid into our sleeping bags, zipped together nicely.

  “These are so toasty.”

  “Aye, but they are warmer down at the bottom, he climbed down my body, with kisses and licks and nibbles, slowly ever so lovely and so so slowly and I watched the shifting ambient light on the outside of our tent, the branches bowing in the night, the shifts and patterns of leaves and moon and clouds and snow and oh — while my husband brought me, with licks and kisses along my thighs and between my legs and around and around, to moans and out-of-my-head, and oh Magnus — I pulled him up, breathless and wanting, and held him and pulled him inside and wrapped around and we rode... on and on, writhing and holding and moaning and sweating, while the wind outside rose we met it with our own rise and swell and release.

  And then to the sound of the wind, we cuddled, and just before we fell asleep he asked, “Did ye leave anything outside, mo reul-iuil? We will have a storm by morning.”

  “No, but what the hell, all it does is storm but not in the right way.”

  Forty-five - Kaitlyn

  The storm lasted all the next day. Snow drifted. Magnus shoveled it up into a wall around us to protect our tent from the wind. The air was cold, but our tent kept in our heat, our sleeping bags were warm enough. I didn’t need to get out. We used the camp stove to cook the last of the rations. Magnus worked outside a little, checking the horses and our site.

  We wore our parkas even in the tent and wrapped in wool blankets. Midday we went for a walk to check the area, not going too far, just enough to get the blood flowing, for the excitement of it all. Then we rushed back into the warmth of the tent.

  Bored, we climbed into the sleeping bags pulled them up to our our ears, and faced each other, inches apart. Shifting shapes on the outside of the tent fabric, filtered, dappled, blue-gray light on our faces. Under the covers was warm and close, our legs entangled. Out of the covers, the tops of our mussed hair sticking up, wild, we were both outside and inside at once, hot and cold, and in our cocoon we whispered for some reason. The muffled snow bringing our words close to our ears. And we laughed at things we said. The breaths of chuckles were like balms for our hearts and souls. We were safe. And with safety came hope. And I loved him so much. The crinkle beside his eye, the growth of his beard, the smile for me.

  We whiled away the rest of the day talking about little things. Telling stories about our pasts, alone and together. And we reminded each other about things we loved and missed.

  When the wind rose and buffeted our walls we quieted and listened. Magnus said, “Och, our walls are tenuous at best.”

  “But also tenacious.”

  “What does it...?”

  “Like they might not be the best, but they will try.”

  “Tis all we can expect.”

  We kissed, and snuggled under the covers more. Our tent was an enclosed space, full of warmth and love, but so small, so very isolated, alone in the desolate wilds of the long ago past enduring a winter storm. Thank God for its tenacity.

  By the next night it stopped storming.

  I wrote in my journal.

  We had cuddled in bed most of the day and now another night lay before us. I said, “Will we be stuck in the tent most of the day tomorrow, too?”

  “Nae, tomorrow we need tae get up early and move camp. I was thinkin’ though, we should move closer tae the clearing. I want tae check it for a message.”

  “Okay, first thing.”

  Forty-six - Kaitlyn

  We rose at dawn and packed the tent and gear on the horses. The weather was good, but the snow was deep. It was difficult to maneuver through. We wound our way up the hill and then Magnus, using the binoculars, checked behind us. He held up a hand telling me to be quiet. After a few moments, I whispered, “What do you see?”

  “Men are in our campsite, Kaitlyn.” He flicked his finger toward a stand of trees. “Hide behind the trees there. Hold Hurley quiet. Pull yer gun.”

  I gulped, nodded that I understood, and directed Hurley to the trees, trying to hide within their shadows.

  Magnus retraced our steps for a distance, then climbed off Cynric and brushed our tracks away. He mounted him again and rode the opposite way for a few yards so he was in full view of the men below. He waved his arms, and yelled, “Hie!”

  He turned Cynric and rode high
er up on the hill, then dropped from his horse behind a rock, pulled his rifle, and waited.

  I dropped from Hurley, and waited too, with my gun pulled, settled on a branch on the tree, aiming. I tried to be as still as I could be, holding the reins in the bend of my knee, watching the trail. I prayed they would pass me, and then they did, right past, quick, climbing the mountain, heading right for Magnus. I knew not to fire. I didn’t want anyone to come after me. I wasn’t a sure enough shot, not from a distance, but I could maybe shoot someone before they got to me. So I waited, tried to calm myself, and watched.

  Until the men were closer to Magnus than me, and Magnus fired, the sound ringing out across the mountains, a shot echoing through the hills, crack, crack, crack, a pause and then crack, crack, ringing through the clear crisp days, A riderless horse ran down the path just beyond me. I kept my aim on the path, waiting for men to flee, but then long minutes passed and no one came.

  Finally Magnus rode down the hill toward me.

  “Thank God! I thought you were dead.”

  “I canna be dead, m’gun outshoots them by a verra long distance. I came tae see tae ye.” He led me up the hill to where two horses stood idly in the snow. There were three bodies.

  Magnus tied our horses to a tree and dragged the bodies over. He dug through their bags, searching for anything valuable. Their knives were crude, he tossed them away. He found a few coins and dropped them into his sporran. It was all rather unsettling, dead people weren’t really something I liked to see, but I had been seeing them quite a lot lately.

  He shook his head. “I gave them the chance tae be thieves. I left these coins in our site. The chance tae take them with their lives, but they were determined tae be murderers as well.”

  “Now they’re dead.”

  I nuzzled and talked to Hurley and Cynric, and led them to an area where the snow was thin and there were shoots of grass.