Son and Throne (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 11)

by Diana Knightley

  “Ye are a verra obligin’ wife, and ye daena complain too much on the state of yer castle.”

  “I don’t think it needs to be said, but your castle, Master Magnus, kind of sucks.” He squeezed my breast playfully.

  I added, “But your cannon is nice.” I curled up on him. “We going to play around again?”

  “Tis dark, the night is long, we daena hae anythin’ proper tae eat in days. Tis all we can do...”

  I laughed, “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you sound like sex is a runner up in things to do. “

  “Tis the first time I hae been this hungry around ye.”

  “How many days before we get to Edinburgh?”

  “I think three more nights.”

  I sighed and joked, “Fine, sex it is.”

  Forty-nine - Kaitlyn

  It took five days to travel to Edinburgh. We were in lower elevations. It was a bit warmer, but also more wet. And if we got wet we got chilled through. Our last night was just outside of town. Hunger pulled at our stomachs, making us irritable and impatient, but it was too far to travel this last night, we had to sleep and arrive in the morn. We kept the horses close by, and we were quieter. Highwaymen might be about so Magnus was guarded. We kept our weapons close. We had passed two groups of people on our route, the roads were busier and more dangerous.

  At dawn we packed up our tent in lovely weather and began the beautiful ride into Edinburgh.

  The town was amazing after living in a tent for so long. How long had it been? Weeks and weeks. Ugh, I needed a shower. The main thoroughfare into Edinburgh was lined with house after house, that cool old fashioned kind with overhanging second floors darkening the road. The roofs were thatched, the details were timber, the walls were white-washed, and behind the houses gardens stretched away from the back doors, small urban farms, in a way. The road was small, crowded, and wound up a hill and settled imposingly at the top, a castle, a large tower that shadowed the surrounding town.

  There were people everywhere, pulling carts and pushing loads, carrying baskets, everybody overburdened.

  I tried not to stare open-mouthed, but there was so much to see. Weird old-timey work happening: weaving and thatching, women carrying bundles, hordes of unwashed children carrying on and rushing by, a dude with a slop bucket, slopping. A literal chicken slaughter with a loud squawk. A foul-smelling chamberpot poured from a top floor, splashing onto the road, with the call, “Gardyloo!”

  Lots of horses and the smells of excrement and piss, plus barnyard, hard barnyard. Chickens clucked and raced around our horse’s hooves as they stepped and I tried to telepathically warn them, “That old man wants to kill you, don’t trust him.” We passed a pig sty, with a big ass pig covered in flies. Then a couple of small, thin dairy cows, being led down the path. The whole scene was a medieval shit-show and it was hard going to stay hungry. But ravenous was I.

  I knew to keep my head down, Magnus held my reins and his own. He was on guard, cautious, watching everything, until finally he found someone respectable and called, “Hallo!”

  They spoke at length. While we had been camping, he had been teaching me more words. But they were the words of forest and loch, not city and inn. I would need a lot more lessons to understand. Magnus and the man each pointed and discussed something farther along the road.

  After they were finished, Magnus said, “He told me of an inn near Grassmarket and another farther along, but the first is near the market and that is enough for me.”

  “Food?”

  “Aye, food.”

  We continued on, pushing through the crowds, coming to a retchworthy and stenchariffic slaughterhouse. Magnus said, “Turn yer eyes.”

  I watched Hurley’s mane and went to my happy place, until we came to the very crowded fresh market, and then further along we passed under an archway into a courtyard, surrounded by a row of two story, half-timber buildings that were small and almost like hotel rooms.

  Magnus said, “We hae arrived.” He slid down from Cynric and tied our horses to a post. I slid down from Hurley and took stock. The Inn’s sign was a crude carving of a deer. Someone shoved past me and Magnus growled at him. He unstrapped our main bag, the one full of weapons and gold, and slung it over his shoulder. He paid a stableboy to watch our things. “We will go procure a room.”

  We entered the downstairs of the main tavern. Much like an eighteenth century inn or a twenty-first century seedy hotel: dark, gloomy. I quickly counted four men, and one woman, sitting on benches at a long trestle table running down the room. At the far end of the room stood a hearth with a large fire burning. Warm with the promise of food, I mentally declared it perfect.

  The proprietor hustled over with a cup of ale for us to share. Magnus took it and drank and drank and drank until it was empty. I laughed. “Magnus!”

  “I am sorry, mo reul-iuil , twas too good tae share. I will order a whole lot more.”

  To the man he spoke at length and then they seemed to come to an agreement. The proprietor left and Magnus said, “I told Ian we need a private room and a great deal more ale. And food, I asked him was there plenty of food. He has assured me there is enough.”

  Ian returned with another ale and a wooden board with a loaf of bread on it, warm, with some cuts of cheese. He passed that ale to Magnus first, but Magnus dutifully gave it to me and I slammed that whole damn thing. There had been a pregnancy, a childbirth, a newborn and breastfeeding, and now I was lost in medieval times. I hadn’t been drinking for a long time and guess what? I had time to make up for. They laughed when I wiped my mouth with my arm. Magnus ordered us another ale.

  It was clear by how Ian spoke to Magnus that he considered him rich and important, which was a great feeling after being homeless for days on end. Magnus and I sat down at the end of the table. He spoke loudly to the other patrons, and then ordered them all a round of drinks and another loaf of bread on our tab.

  I downed my second ale and got super buzzy and introduced myself as Lady Ulrich of Lichtenstein and Gelderland. I leaned to Magnus, “It’s from a movie, Knight’s Tale, before I met you it was basically the closest I ever got to a sword.” This was the most fun we had had in weeks. Magnus and I plowed through the loaf of bread and ordered more. He asked, “Dost ye want anythin’ else?”

  “Is there an egg or three? I need some protein.”

  “Aye,” he ordered cooked eggs and more cheese. To me he said, “I hae tae slow down. I will get sick if I eat too verra much. I daena want tae get sick.”

  “Me too, God, I love you.”

  “I love ye as well, mo reul-iuil.”

  And as it grew dark outside, in the early afternoon of deep December, we held hands at our table as patrons came and went, and we drank and talked. It dawned on me, “What about my parents?”

  “Aye, tis likely we winna make it tae family dinner this week.”

  “I know, they will be so disappointed. Who will they give their unsolicited parenting advice to? ‘Thanks mom, for the sad-vice on weaning my newborn.”

  “Sad-vice is a word?”

  “I just drunk-vented it.”

  He chuckled. “And yer father was explainin’ the stock market tae me, he has been tryin’ for months, but I tell him I canna understand buying stock in the fruit market.”

  I laughed. “By fruit market you mean Apple?”

  “Aye, I ken the truth, tis yer phone, but I like tae make him fluster.”

  I was slurry. “It’s so surprising they don’t know you’re a time traveler. She loves Outlander, you’d think she’d put two and two together.”

  “People believe what they want tae believe, sometimes with the truth right in front of them.”

  “That is so modern of you.”

  “I am verra drunk.”

  “Me too, want to go to our room?”

  “Och aye.” He swung his legs around on the bench seat, just about falling off the side, and laughed. “Och, the ground is movin’.”

  I gigg
led and we met at the end of the table and threw our arms around each other. He slung our bags to his shoulder. We stumbled out of the door, to the courtyard.

  “Frigid!”

  “Aye, and we hae tae get all the way up there.” He pointed to a door up a long wooden outdoor staircase. “I picked it because tis over the tavern, we will hae the heat from the large fireplace warmin’ our room.” The temperature had dropped and snow was falling, making the ground slippery.

  I got to the bottom step weaving and holding the rail with a death grip. The staircase swayed. “Uh oh.” I hiccuped. There was a real possibility of not making it up there. The next step was loose, the next too close together, and the railing wiggled when I used it to pull myself four steps up. I said, “Magnus, go back down, we have to do this one at a time, it’s swaying.”

  “Och, I thought twas me.”

  He backed up to the bottom and I climbed, carefully holding on, and testing each step. I made it to the top and creaked open the door. “Okay you can come up now.”

  “Ye are half m’weight in stone.”

  I called down with a giggle. “Did you just say you were stoned?”

  He lurched up the stairs, with bags slung on his shoulders, the whole staircase shuddering under him. He made it to the top and dropped the bags. “I will hae a man come tae shore that up in the morn.”

  Our other bags were already in our room. And what a room — not much bigger than the tent, but there in the middle stood a bed, with not one but two feather beds on top of it. The linens were suspiciously dirty looking, but that was okay, we had the sleeping bags. They weren’t much cleaner, but they were our own sweat and grime. I unrolled them on the bed. “Magnus, feel this!” Their fluffiness on top of the feather beds was amazing compared to the hard frozen ground under our tent.

  “I daena want tae, I want tae lay on it first.”

  He was taking off his boots and dropping them in the middle of the floor and then his sporran went into one of the pack bags we had brought in.

  We put our parkas on the end of the bed because we might need the extra layer for our feet. I dropped my skirt to the floor and he and I both climbed onto the bed. I moaned happily as I dropped on my stomach.

  He groaned as his back touched down. “Tis nae perfect but will do for a time.”

  “Oh yes,” I mumbled, “yes, oh yes, it’s fucking awesome.” I reached for his hand. He pulled our covers over us and within seconds we were both asleep.

  Fifty - Kaitlyn

  The night was long. Halfway through I woke up to a new unrecognizable pitch dark, the pitch dark of the inside of a room in a hotel with the wind howling outside really pummeling the walls. Creaking and groaning and moaning. I opened my eyes and saw a tiny sparkle about where Magnus’s eyes would be. “Are you awake?”

  “Aye, the storm is ravagin’ the house.”

  “Speaking of ravaging...” I squiggled my hand over and grasped his cock. “The hotel might lift off the foundation, I need to hold onto a pole.”

  He chuckled.

  I mumbled. “I thought you might need some help, but here you are, already at attention.”

  “But ye are mistaken, I am still sleepin’.”

  “Ah, I might need to wake you up, clearly, the wind is making me nervous and I need you to protect me.”

  I wiggled down in the covers to take him into my mouth and played there for a long time, licks and tastes, his hand on my shoulder, his fingers wrapped in my hair. Teasing, I pulled away and came back, over and over, until he was all full of want and urgency and then I climbed up his body, slow and deliberate, trailing along his skin and then climbing on, settling down... I rode him hard and deep and intense while the winter storm wailed around us, thankfully on the other side of thick-enough walls.

  The next day we peeked out the door. “The staircase is still there, thank God. I wondered if it would fall and we’d be stuck up here.”

  Magnus joked as the staircase weaved under him, “Tis too sturdy tae fall.”

  We went to the tavern for a breakfast of bread and cheese, dreaming of a coffee to go with it. Then, because the winds calmed a little, Magnus and I decided to go on a short walk around our neighborhood.

  At the front door we stood side by side looking out on the road. Snowy before, now turned drizzly and cold. I sighed. “Think of this, Magnus, all the centuries, through time, men and women, standing in a doorway in Edinburgh, Scotland, looking out, wondering if the weather is good enough to walk out into...”

  Magnus looked up. “Tis dreich.”

  “True, how many times do you think this has repeated itself?”

  “Too verra many tae count.”

  “There might be a couple in the twenty-first century, doing this exact same thing, they’re from America, they’re in love, now they’re going out in the rain to see the sights in Edinburgh.”

  The castle is still standin’ in your time?”

  “Definitely, though it’s a tourist attraction, and not actually guarding the kingdom. Quentin read all about it when we traveled to Scotland to go to Balloch castle.”

  “I would like ye tae take me tae the Scotland of yer time someday.”

  “If we ever get to go home, it’s a deal.”

  “I wish we could wear our warm parkas.”

  “Me as well, mo reul-iuil.” We pulled our tartans around our shoulders and stepped out into the wet streets.

  The roads were deserted, the smart people staying warm inside, but we wanted the lay of the land so we walked through the neighborhoods, up and down streets, to the portcullis and the gatehouse of the castle. We stood taking them in and the imposing tower beyond, a little like tourists actually. Until the guards took notice of us, and we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. We returned to the tavern for more food, always more food.

  After lunch, Magnus leaned against the wall, satiated. His cheeks were flushed from the chill, his brow wet from the snow. He put his hands out toward the fire to warm them. We ordered more ale.

  “I love you,” I said, “If I have to spend an eternity with someone in the god-forsaken Middle Ages, I’m so glad it’s you.”

  He nodded, his expression thoughtful. Finally he said, “I love ye as well, mo reul-iuil. We are livin’ through a great trial, but I feel verra fortunate tae hae ye at m’side. Ye are all tae me. We will get through this taegether.”

  “I love that, yes. I agree.” I fiddled with my mug. “I just miss them so much, so so much.”

  “I ken.” He took my hand across the table. A tear rolled down my cheek and I tried to hide it since I was in public, my head down, tears streaming silently.

  Magnus leaned forward and wiped my cheek dry and added, “All we can do is survive this and wait.”

  I nodded, and did a more thorough job of wiping my tears. “I know.”

  “We hae seen the town. We can live here, how difficult can it be?”

  “True.” I sniffled. “There’s food. Fireplaces. Cynric and Hurley. And you.”

  He smiled. “Ye are verra sexy when ye list the horses afore me.”

  “Oh you like that do you?”

  “I am glad ye learned tae ride. Ye can shoot and hunt and—”

  “I’m finally ready for all our time-travel adventures, all the dangers, and now there aren’t any anymore.” I added, “I mean, this sucks, we are truly lost without hope of anyone coming to get us. I try to imagine living like this, but man, it’s hard to... The smell alone is impossible.”

  “Aye, it smells like the bottom side of a cesspit in summer.”

  “And we should know, that was awful. What do you think Hayley and Fraoch are doing right now?”

  “I canna imagine. I hope they are askin’ Lady Mairead why she forgot tae come for us.”

  “Although if it’s true that Fraoch was the son of Donnan by another mother, and Lady Mairead had him beat and you held a gun to his head, they might not be on our side. I wouldn’t really blame them. That sounds like it got pretty
intense.”

  “It did, twas something I regret.”

  It was my turn to hold his hand. “Yeah. I know you do.”

  He squeezed my hand. “We will miss the bairn and as time passes we will mourn and we will remember. We will pray tae God for forgiveness and for strength in these trials. And we will build a life here.”

  “Okay, that makes sense.”

  “Tomorrow I will inquire about a house. We need servants. A stable for Hurley and Cynric. I was thinkin’, once settled, we ought tae present ourselves at court. We are royals, tis within our rights tae speak tae her Majesty’s regent, James Hamilton, Duke of Châtellerault.”

  “Where did you learn that?”

  “When ye last visited the chamberpot I learned it by joinin’ in conversation with the proprietor. The queen is verra young and lives abroad, the plan is tae marry her tae the dauphin of France.”

  ”Good, that’s good information.”

  We smiled at each other and then he said, “Let’s hae another round of ale.”

  Fifty-one - Kaitlyn

  The next day Magnus and I bought wool cloaks from a merchant, to make our clothes more dignified and the following day Magnus began talking to people about finding us a house. My job was to sit nearby and be quiet and look regal.

  And then he had a lead.

  It took two more days but then we were summoned to one of the homes on the high road to meet Lady Helen Fleming. She was a short prim woman, who might have been in her fifties, but looked much older, grayed, stooped. Her house, though, was on the main road on the hill near the castle where the grand, tall houses were. As we walked up the hill to meet her, Magnus explained to me all he knew, that she was rich and recently widowed. Her husband had been a lord and yet, his widow was in a great deal of debt.

  We were let into the house and brought through to an interior room. The floors were stone. The walls of the house were stone, with alcoves and arched windows. The front window held an expensive frosted lattice glass. There were tapestries hanging on the walls. The interior walls were wood paneled and everywhere there was uncomfortable looking blocky wood furniture and heavy iron accent pieces. The whole vibe was medieval castle, except smaller, like the back house of the medieval castle, or the mother-in-law suite for a disgraced queen.