The Archivist

by Christy Sloat

  “I don’t want to stick around and find out, Eoin. But, I am thankful to you. I am happy I met you. I feel —”

  What did I feel? I thought for a moment, looking around at the beautiful hidden cave and the rushing blue water that cascaded down. “I feel grateful for you. For this opportunity. I’ll never forget you.”

  His face smoothed out and he grasped my shoulders. “And I shall never forget you. Every time I see a thistle, I shall think of you and our travels. I don’t want you to be ill. That’s the last of my intentions, but I do wish to know you longer. Perhaps you can ride back to the castle with me. And we will have supper. Then you can go. Properly.”

  I thought on it for a moment and then nodded. I didn’t see the harm in having dinner and it would give me a chance to say goodbye to Iona.

  “Okay. But right after supper.”

  Sixteen

  The smell of smoke hit us about a mile away from the castle. Eoin kicked his monstrous horse and we rode as fast as the horses would go toward it. The whole time Eoin kept saying, chan eil, over and over. It meant no in Gaelic. I said nothing, even as the dizziness came back and hit me about three minutes out. I just shoved berries into my stomach, hoping that would keep the time sickness at bay. It did for a short time. When we reached the archway of vines, I knew something was horribly wrong. The thorns that had once been there had pieces of flesh embedded in them and they were lowered significantly. No longer did they cover our heads.

  “These were up higher,” I whispered.

  “Aye, they were a warning. When an outsider comes into camp, they are lowered at the gate. It seems whoever entered got themselves a nasty scratch or two.” he said, pointing to the sight of blood on the ground. My stomach turned. I didn’t care for blood, I never have. I wasn’t cut out for pools of blood on the grass or anything that involved torn flesh.

  “Stay behind me, Savannah. Whoever it is, still may be here.”

  He pulled his bow and nocked an arrow, keeping it up and pointed ahead of him as his head was on a swivel. Only his legs clung to his massive horse, showing me the strength he must have had in them. Eoin was strong and I didn’t doubt his advantage in a fight; I just didn’t want to see it.

  We reached the end of the archway and saw the destruction within. The smoke we saw came from the castle itself. All that was left was cinders and a smoldering smoke that grew up into the heavens. The once beautiful castle was now nothing. My mouth was open in shock and I couldn’t close it. People lay around us, dead. Burnt or murdered by someone horrible.

  “Iona?” I cried out.

  “No, lass. Be quiet,” Eoin yelled, but it was too late. I ran around the smoldering castle toward what would be the kitchens, searching for my friend. I found her crumpled up in a ball near the bath house. She was gone. Burns covered most of her body. I lay next to her on the ground and pulled her hair free from her face. She looked peaceful, not scared. Hopefully in death she was as free as she looked now. I swallowed the hard lump that formed in my throat. My poor friend had been brutally killed and I wasn’t here to help her.

  The anger of what happened here hit me tenfold. I stood up and faced Eoin, who was still watching the trees that surrounded us.

  “Who would do this?”

  He looked at me. “We’ve many enemies. But there is only one that would burn and murder my people like this. The English.”

  Bastards!

  “Where is Ainsley?” I asked, searching for her in the wreckage. Stopping, I thought back to my research and she did live longer than Sir Malcolm, but then again, the text about him was wrong. They said Sir Malcolm would die by the hands of the English in 1304, and that didn’t turn out to be true, did it? What historians wrote as fact wasn’t always true, which was why we Librarians exist.

  “She must be here somewhere,” I told Eoin. “She won’t die here.”

  We began to search the grounds for her, or any survivors, but we found nothing. It was possible that her body was inside the fire pit that was once a castle.

  Eoin’s head snapped up out of nowhere, and he pulled me behind him.

  “What?” I asked, looking around.

  “Shh, say nothing.”

  I didn’t see or hear anything. It was just Eoin being panicky. But wait, what was that? I pulled my glasses free from my bag and I saw them. Ten soldiers riding toward us the same way we came in. Their leader looking entirely too happy as he surveyed the damage that lay at our feet.

  “Good day, man. Nice day for a fire, isn’t it?” he asked, riding in a large circle. Eoin’s bow was up and trained on him. “Now, what is a strapping man like you and a pretty thing like that, doing here? Shouldn’t you two be off frolicking in the heather somewhere? Making babies in the sunshine?”

  I wanted to throw a rock at his face, but I stayed where I was. Eoin would get us out of this situation, I didn’t doubt it.

  “What’s your name, young man?” the English soldier asked.

  “Chan innis mi dad dhut,” Eoin replied.

  “Well if you’re not going to tell me anything, then I’ll have to string your lassie up, like I did the other pretty redhead in this camp and do as I did to her. And let me tell you, lad, she didn’t last long after we were all finished with her.”

  Eoin’s arms began to shake, but not with fear, with adrenaline. This was a horrible situation to be in and I didn’t see any good way out of it. My apprehension of seeing Eoin in a fight was coming to fruition before my very eyes. I suddenly felt the fear of losing him, like I lost Iona.

  “You’ll not be touching her,” Eoin growled, his voice shaking, but strong. “I’ll shoot you in the eye before you dismount yer horse. And then I’ll shoot your friend to the right in his throat, and the next in the face. I’ve a good shot, and ten arrows. One for each of ye.”

  I was shocked when they all began laughing. I didn’t think Eoin was joking. His family, or what was left of them, were all dead around his feet, and he was ready to kill someone. They had brutally murdered them all, of that there was no doubt. And Eoin wanted to make them pay. He was now all alone in this world.

  “I believe you, man. I can see that you have a good hold on that bow, and a fine arrow you have there. But let me tell you what I think,” he said, still on his mount. “I think you came back from a small trip, to find your whole camp massacred, by me and some one hundred men, and you’re angry. I understand, good sir. But we came here to find someone, and we didn’t find him. But we did find his bride, Lady Ainsley. You’ll be happy to learn that she is well kept in a nice English camp just south of here. She’s locked up nicely and that’s where she will remain.”

  He kept circling us and all the while Eoin kept his aim, and I stood behind him, helpless. I wished I had something more than the rocks at my feet. What good would that do me? You don’t bring a rock to a sword fight.

  “She was very open with us, indeed. She told us all about how Malcolm had died at his hideout, a place we never thought to look. But then she freely told us about his bastard son. And you know what, lad?”

  Eoin said nothing, nor did he take his eye off his target. But I practically frothed with anger.

  “I think that son is you! And you do know that I mustn’t return to my king without Malcolm Walsh’s head on a pike. His very last words to me were, ‘Vargis, you get that son-of-a-bitch back to me so I may hang him in front of his very people for his crimes. Or you cut his head from his body! But either way, you bring him back.’ Now I cannot go back without your father’s head. So, I went to his lover’s cottage, and do you know what I found?”

  “What?” Eoin asked, rigidly.

  “His burnt remains, but no head. What am I to do, bastard son? I cannot take ashes to my king.”

  Suddenly, it all came rushing back to me from all that I studied before this trip. Vargis was the man who capt
ured Sir Malcolm and delivered him, alive, to the King of England. He was also the one who became a decorated hero because of it. And now, all this questioning, I realized something I hadn’t before; the historians never got it wrong. They did hang Sir Malcolm Walsh for his crimes against England, except that it wasn’t Sir Malcolm Walsh, it was Eoin. And with him slightly resembling his father, I could see how the English didn’t suspect a thing. How could they know what Walsh really looked like?

  Everything suddenly went into slow motion. The English soldier slowly began dismounting his horse at the same time as the other nine soldiers. Eoin did in fact loose his arrow, but as it flew through the air, I knew I had a choice to make. I could either stand here and watch as Eoin’s arrow missed his target, and he is grabbed and taken away from me to pay for the crimes of his father, or I could save his life, and change everything, including the past; something I firmly believed was wrong. Changing history was not what we Librarians did. We observed, we did not intrude or for God sakes, alter.

  “Screw it,” I said, as I put the bracelet on my wrist and grabbed onto Eoin’s arm, tightly. I felt the whooshing sensation, the power of the bracelet and the time-traveling formula it held, and heard the music in my ears, as we were pulled back in time, from this era to 2018.

  ****

  At first, I lay there breathlessly. I felt the warm sensation of fur beneath me, and then I smelled the scent of warm cookies nearby. Not wanting to wake or open my eyes, rather, I stayed this way, just breathing. What I had been through, where I had just been, had defied all logic and explanation, and my body was paying the price. It was exhausted.

  I could hear gasping next to me and I tried to ignore it and just rest, but the sound went on. I lifted my head and saw that the room would not stop spinning no matter how hard I tried.

  “Ugh,” I moaned.

  “Savannah, stay very still. I have help coming. Just don’t move.” It was Jessa and I felt her nervous tension floating in the air, but I couldn’t help ease it. I was too tired. “We will get you both some help. Just hold on.” Her hand reached mine and she squeezed, tightly.

  “Where am I? What on earth is this place? Savannah, what have ya done to me, lass?”

  I knew the voice and I knew his questions needed answers, but I was too busy blacking out to answer them.

  Seventeen

  “What you’ve experienced was a total body shut down,” the woman told me. She was dressed smartly, holding a worn book tightly in her arms. Her curly hair was pulled tightly into a nice low ponytail that showed off her kind face. “I myself have felt a sickness like this. But your illness is much worse than mine ever was. You’ll need rest, which may be hard for you to hear because of your new visitor, and his questions.”

  She looked over at Eoin as he sat in my overstuffed chair. He was still dressed in his kilt and heavy quilted clothing, despite the warm room we were in. He looked terrified and I wasn’t sure if it was shock of where we were or for me.

  I was in my bed, at home, with Freddy wrapped practically around my face. I pushed her off, but she just went right back. Stubborn cat loved me too much.

  “You do know you’ve broken our most sacred of laws, Savannah,” she asked. “You are not to bring anyone from another time to ours. Think of the damage it could cause. The altered life that he will have.”

  “Yes, but you don’t understand, they were going to hang him. If I left him there, he’d die for his father’s crimes. He was innocent. I don’t care what his—” I tried to go on but the damned cough I had now wracked through my body in spasms.

  “Shh… try not to talk,” she said. “I can’t say that I didn’t break a few rules myself as a Librarian. But this isn’t your first go around. You rest, and we’ll get him sorted out.”

  Turning to Eoin, she sat down on the edge of my bed. “You understand that you are a visitor in the 21st century? Your days are no longer and there are many things you will not understand. You’re going to have tons of questions. Most of our world and our ways will come as a major shock to you, Eoin. I hope you’re prepared for that.”

  Eoin nodded and looked at me with sadness in his eyes. “Will she be well soon?”

  “She will. But she has to rest. Her body has traveled through time and stayed there too long. You’ll do her good by not asking her all your questions. Anything you have to ask, you can ask me. My name is Emmeline, or Emme for short. Now, let’s let her sleep and go into the next room to speak.”

  I looked at Eoin, and he at me. I didn’t want him to leave, but I knew he had so many questions he was dying to ask them. Besides the concern that showed, he was comforting, and if he left, I would be lost again. If he was sent back, I’d go crazy.

  “I just want to stay with her a moment,” he told Emme. “And I’ll meet you there, lass.”

  Emme smiled and got up. Jessa followed her out and closed the door behind her. Eoin looked around my room in wonder. He touched the stuffed bear on my bookshelf, and then ran his fingers across the books themselves. Picking up a few of my photos made him smile and shake his head. I could only imagine what was going through his mind as he looked at photos of me with Jessa.

  “Everything is so full of color in your quarters. I cannot explain the feelings I’m having, just by standing here now. I feel… as if I do not fit here.”

  I laughed, and the damn cough came back. “Sorry, for laughing at you. You don’t exactly fit in, Eoin. You come from another century. Your people are all gone. The days of Highlanders and clans are over, and the English did their damage, even after your war with them. But the fighting is all over.”

  His brows rose up as he asked, “The fighting is over? What do you mean, lass?”

  “I mean that Scotland and England united, and there is peace. I promise you your country is no longer in turmoil.” I sighed. “Eoin, do you understand why I pulled you back here?”

  He nodded and sat down at the edge of my bed causing it to sink down a bit. I must have looked terrible. Freddy wouldn’t stop climbing over my hair, and I felt like I’d hit a brick wall.

  “I do, lass. I think that those men meant to hang me, and say I was Sir Malcolm. They wouldn’t have stopped coming after me until they had me in their clutches. What you did was a great service. You saved me.”

  “But you don’t belong here,” I said, as I felt the tears well up in my eyes.

  “No. I don’t. There is something I must confess to you, Savannah.” He bit his lower lip and fidgeted with his cloak. “Remember when you said that you don’t feel as if you belong anywhere, like you’re lost?”

  I nodded. I remember that moment well. I recalled how he told me that I was like the sun, and that there was a goodness in me that he felt he needed. The feeling we both desperately needed in our lives, we gave one another. And even in such a short time together, we had found an anchor in one another. He opened my eyes to a great many things and I could give him happiness, even for a brief moment. Maybe pulling him here was a blessing.

  “Yes, how could I ever forget the talk on the mountain range?” I smiled.

  He wiped the hair free from his eyes and took a deep breath. He was visibly worried about something. Then I began to panic slightly. Would Emme be taking Eoin back with her tonight? Is this the last moment I had with him?

  “It’s okay, Eoin,” I said, as my voice shook. His hand gripped mine tightly. “You can tell me.”

  “I have never found a lass like you. I see much in you that reminds me of my ma, and I like that about you. But you’re different than her in many ways, as well. You’re much braver than she. She was afraid to fight for something she loved. And you, well, you look fear in the face and you laugh. You give me hope, something I never felt before. I need hope in my life, Savannah. And no matter where I am now, whatever the time, you’re here. I cannot go back without you. Mo cluaran. I would be haun
ted with the memory of you in every step I walked.”

  This was nothing like what I thought he was going to say. Happy that he said this, I lifted my head, as high as I could, and grabbed his collar, pulling him down. It was now or never, but this kiss was going to happen.

  His lips gently touched mine, and he pulled away for a moment, no doubt making sure I was all right.

  “Nay lass.” He pulled me from the bed and cradled me in his lap, instead of crushing me with his whole body. I didn’t fight it. As his lips met mine, this time in a more fervent kiss, it was as if the world around us went silent.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he held me tightly, running his fingers through my hair. He explored my mouth with his tongue, sending shockwaves through my body, awakening my senses. I felt things I had never felt before in this moment, and realized, Eoin was an amazing kisser. I also realized no one had ever kissed me like this before. His hands ventured, but never too far. His body shook with what I could only assume was passion, as I felt it too. If I wasn’t exhausted, I would be doing more than kissing him.

  When we finally came up for air, I realized that this could go no further than right here. I wanted nothing more than to fully explore Eoin in all ways possible, but we were not alone.

  “I thought that kiss would never happen,” I admitted, as my lips stung.

  He chuckled. “I meant to kiss you many times, lass. But for fear of you slapping me, I stayed away, ever being the true polite Scot.”

  He laid me back onto the bed and covered me with the blanket. I felt empty and cold not being in his arms.

  “I wish I could stay here with ya. But I think yer friends mean to have a serious talk with me,” he said, with a jovial laugh. “I will return.”