Time of the Draig

by Lisa Dawn Wadler

  She uttered strange commands. “Delta formation, alpha zone attacks, and I want one left to question.”

  Even as he watched the raiders emerge from the shelter of the forest, he saw her men move as he presumed she directed. The captain shouted additional commands that made no sense. Then the battle was upon them.

  A fierce cry spewed from his throat as his sword met the first attack. There was awareness of all: the uneven clearing beneath his feet, the cool wind that blew on his neck, the sound of metal meeting metal as swords engaged in battle, and the fact that the woman had already taken one man to the ground. The corner of his eye caught a spray of blood from her prey. Then he lost himself to the battle as he realized the mountain of a man stayed by her side.

  Chapter 5

  Faolan cursed and fell to his back, knocked down by the massive blow from his opponent. The only good part was that the man fell on top of him, which spared him from the almost certain deathblow that would have followed. Both struggled for purchase with their weapons, and neither accomplished any real damage, though Faolan felt the metal blade score his side.

  Daring the chance, his left hand found his dagger, and he plunged it into the man’s rib cage. As the attacker cried out in pain, Faolan pushed him off and ran his sword through the man’s heart.

  Faolan was almost to his feet when he saw Samantha running hard at him. She shouted, “Get down! Now!” Falling to his hands and knees, he felt her booted foot on his back. His head swiveled to see her other foot connect with the chest of an attacker he had not seen, a man who held his weapon high in the air, a weapon that would have ended his life.

  The man fell backward as she struck. Before he hit the ground, her dagger had cut his throat. He would never rise again.

  His eyes scanned the clearing to assess where he was needed, but the worst was over. The battle was done, and there were sixteen raiders littering the previously peaceful setting.

  As Samantha cried, “Drop your weapon now, soldier!” he turned to see one of her men engaged in combat with his cousin, Kagen.

  To his disbelief, she ran full force at her man and took him to the ground with her slight frame by tackling him just below the waist. In a heartbeat, the man was on his stomach, but Kagen’s sword was still in motion.

  Faolan cried, “Kagen, stop!” He could see the arch of the blade shift, but not enough. He screamed as the weapon cut the arm of the woman he had tried to protect.

  She barely acknowledged the injury as she held her man to the ground; her small body somehow kept the larger man from moving. Faolan, who was standing in front of Kagen, heard her say, “This is over, Corporal. Do you hear me? This is over, so drop your weapon now!”

  His heart hammered in his chest as the man struggled beneath her commands, and he held his sword in hand, ready to strike should the man attempt any harm. The corporal finally released the sword and had the audacity to laugh.

  Samantha slowly rose from his back in an obvious show of her superior force. “I’m going to assume you were carried away and didn’t mean to harm men who went into battle at our side.”

  The corporal rose and stared down at her with rage burning in his eyes. “Okay, let’s go with that.” The look on his face did not speak of peace; Faolan could see the disrespect in his glare.

  Jeff spoke as he approached, “Corporal Jensen, when the major speaks to you, answer correctly.”

  The man scowled at Jeff and Samantha. “Or what, you’ll put me on report?”

  Samantha surprised him as her dagger was immediately raised to the man’s throat. “No reports or brigs here, Corporal. You either follow orders, or we leave you behind. But the supplies stay with us. Feel like making a go of it alone in the dark ages?”

  Faolan could see the man mulling his choices and not happy with either. Jeff added, “I know you and will not put up with your shit. Do you understand me?”

  The corporal glared at Samantha. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Then report to Private Miller and have those cuts attended,” Jeff said as Samantha lowered her dagger.

  She turned to face Kagen. “My apologies.”

  Kagen reached out to offer a light touch to her left arm. “How badly did I hurt you?” Faolan hated his cousin at the moment for the excuse to touch her flesh.

  Samantha replied, “It’s only a scratch, no real harm done. Thanks for leaving my arm intact.”

  Jeff interrupted them. “Laird Faolan, we need to see to our men, and I suggest you do the same.” With that, he nodded to Samantha, and they turned to walk toward their cluster of men.

  Faolan called out, “Major Samantha, may we speak?”

  Samantha motioned for Jeff to continue without her. “What do you want?” Her tone held none of the warmth he would have wished.

  As her green gaze fixed on him, he wanted to say that he wanted her, but knew that to be a mistake. “I meant no harm. ‘Twas my belief you were a prisoner of these men and in need of aid.” His voice softened as she blinked in clear surprise. “I can see the exhaustion in your eyes and that you have nay seen the sun in too many a day. I would have never harmed you.”

  For a brief flash, her hard green glare relaxed, and she looked at him as if she believed what he had spoken. Then she bent to retrieve a fallen sword from the ground, and a hard emerald glare met his when she rose. Her voice remained cold. “Now we both know you would have never touched me.”

  Appalled to hear she believed him capable of seeking to take what was not offered, he said, “I swear that you would have been safe with me and treated as an honored guest within my walls.”

  Bitter laughter met his ears. “Yeah, right. I’m sure that was your intention.”

  Before he could say more, she turned and left him standing in the middle of a field full of dead men.

  Do I believe him? She wanted to think it didn’t matter, yet for some reason it did. Samantha tried to look at the situation with an analytical eye. That she was pale and exhausted was an understatement. It had been more than two months since her last visit above ground, and sleep was something that happened in three- to four-hour chunks every thirty hours or so. She had arrived in the location with the compliments of a toss from Boomer and then yelled at him to get off her, not exactly making her look like the commanding officer she had become. None of it made her appear to be a person with choice.

  The way Faolan had looked at her made her think he was lying on some level. It hadn’t been mere curiosity in his gaze; he had “checked her out,” as Boomer would say. She doubted a man from medieval Scotland would have much interest in a woman beyond what he could take physically. But his eyes had been soft and gentle while he explained his motivation. So why do I want to believe him?

  Her silent musing ended when she reached her men. She walked over to Miller who was setting a broken finger on a soldier whose name badge said Iduna. “How’s the hand, Sergeant?”

  He answered quickly, “Just a broken finger, no big deal, Major.”

  She crouched before him. “Good to hear. As soon as we make camp tonight, I’d like to actually meet you.”

  His broad smile answered, “I’d like that too.”

  “Private Miller, how injured are my men?”

  The private finished wrapping the finger. “Mostly minor cuts and some bruising.” He glanced across the field at Faolan and his men. “They have a man down. With your permission, I’d like to see if I could help.”

  “Why would you even ask? They fought beside us, and that makes them friendlies. See it done.”

  Miller grabbed the med kit from the ground. “I wasn’t sure if you would mind. After all, I was sentenced to die for aiding men who didn’t wear the uniform.”

  Samantha’s eyes widened at the statement. She knew it was bad out there, but not that bad. “Who did you help?”

>   “I was putting our men back together after a skirmish in Mexico when I went to patch up some locals that got caught in the crossfire.” He sighed as he finished. “I will admit I had been ordered not to aid the villagers.”

  Samantha rose to her feet. “You did the right thing then and now. I’m doubly glad to have you along.” She saw the man beam as he trotted across the open field to where the wounded man lay. A small curse left her lips as Miller was pushed away from the injured warrior.

  Harrison said from behind her, “Looks like they don’t quite get the concept. Should we intervene?”

  “We may have to. Are you injured, Captain?” she asked as she faced the man.

  “Just a few light scratches that have already been disinfected. Your arm needs the same,” he said as they began the walk back across the field.

  “After everyone else is seen, Captain.”

  “Again you sound like your father. The men always came first for him too,” he added as they sidestepped a body on the ground. “You can call me Jeff when we are at ease, Samantha.”

  Her smile answered but then faded as they reached the wounded man. Kagen stated to Miller, “Leave him alone.”

  “This man is a healer and may be able to help,” Samantha said, though she doubted a class four med kit could do anything. There was a large slash across the man’s belly that went far too deep for simple stitches. The medic still examined the wound, and she could see the frustration in his face.

  Miller said, “He’s already gone.”

  “Which is why I told you to stay away from Robert’s body,” Kagen said.

  She felt his approach before Faolan uttered a sound. The hair on the back of her neck prickled in awareness, though not in an unpleasant way. There was no hint of a threat at his silent approach, only a certainty he was there. He offered a polite nod to her before he knelt beside the body and used his hand to close the staring eyes. He took the dead man’s dagger and tucked it within his belt.

  Faolan stood. “I would see him buried before we leave.” Kagen nodded at the statement.

  Miller said, “You’re both cut, let me clean those up first.” He glanced at the other two warriors. “Are they hurt?”

  Faolan shook his head. “No. Dinna fash yourself. We both will live to see another day. Take care of Major Samantha . . . her arm bleeds.”

  She glanced at the rip in her jacket and, for the first time, felt the cut, not deep, but enough for a stitch or two. Her jacket fell to the ground as she lifted the short sleeve of her t-shirt for the medic to view. A sigh of relief escaped when she noticed her Semper Fi tattoo remained unharmed.

  Per Miller’s instructions, she sat again on the grass and winced as the disinfected pad swiped her cut. The adhesive flowed over the broken skin, and she knew within thirty seconds her wound would be set and closed. The shadow covered her as Boomer stood over her. “No worries, Boomer.”

  “My bad, Sam.” The guilt overflowed in his voice.

  “Yeah, too bad you can’t keep up,” Samantha mocked and then asked with concern, “You okay?”

  “Five by five as always,” he replied, as he leaned down to whisper, “We have a live one.”

  She nodded as she waited for Faolan and Kagen to have their light wounds tended. There was only bewilderment that they didn’t question the treatment or what must be magical material in the med kit. When Miller declared them fit, Samantha said, “We have a live attacker. Care to ask any questions?”

  Both men were on their feet before she finished. Samantha reached for her jacket and hesitated as Faolan extended a hand to help her up. She didn’t need it but accepted the offer. His hand was gentle as he gripped hers, with none of his obvious strength used. It was almost as if he were afraid to break her, like she was made of glass. But she felt it, the warmth his skin offered hers when his large hand swallowed hers. As soon as she was up, she dropped his hand, too disturbed by the tingly sensation he had created.

  Boomer led them to a dying man on the edge of the field. From the twisted angle, it was clear his leg was broken, and blood flowed freely from a large gash on his side. Faolan knelt by the man and demanded, “Why?”

  The man coughed blood and sneered at the question. His voice was but a harsh whisper, “You have been found, Draig. You shall pay . . . for the sins of your ancestor . . . your line dies . . . the gods shall have their revenge.” Then nothing more as a final breath left his body.

  Samantha knew Jeff had heard it all, and they both turned to Faolan. “What was that about?”

  “I dinna ken. His words were in a language I dinna comprehend.”

  The captain replied, “What are you talking about? I followed everything he said.”

  Samantha interjected, “I have a lot to explain to you yet, Captain. It’s very probable that was a foreign language.” She turned to Faolan and repeated the dying man’s message verbatim. His face paled, but he still claimed not to understand the threat.

  “My clan is respected in the Highlands, and we have no known enemies. Though these men are most likely responsible for the deaths of several of my warriors and my father. Plus, they stole half of my sheep. We were tracking the flock when we met you,” Faolan explained. “My father was a good man.”

  She felt his pain at the simple yet eloquent epitaph. Those were words she could have used for her own father.

  Captain Harrison said, “It may have just been the mad ramblings of a dying man.”

  Faolan quickly agreed. “You saved my life, and there is now a blood debt between our people. It would be pleasing if you would join us as we travel home. Guests have long been honored within my walls, Jeff.”

  Samantha didn’t miss Kagen’s surprise at the offer. His shock almost matched her own. “While your offer is kind—”

  Captain Jeff Harrison quickly interrupted, “The major and I need to discuss your kind offer. In the meantime, we would assist in burying your dead.” He called out for two of the men to bring shovels and pointed to the dead warrior of the Draig clan.

  Faolan nodded and walked away with Kagen.

  Samantha whispered, “The last thing we need is to get more wrapped up in this timeline.”

  “Get over the timeline because we are now a part of it,” Jeff said. “We need shelter, a place to think and choose our next course of action. I like the idea of strong walls around us while we sleep.” After glancing over his shoulder to make certain they were alone, he asked, “How did we understand the other language?”

  “The easiest answer is that the quantum door gave you the ability.” Using his own metaphor, she continued, “Think of it as a built-in universal translator.”

  “Nice use of the Star Trek analogy, but I still want a report on UNK005 when we make camp.” He thought for a moment. “Faolan and his men probably speak Gaelic.”

  “That’s my belief given the date and geography.” Samantha added, “I still don’t think getting more involved with them is a smart plan.”

  Boomer interjected, “You will when our supplies run out in a week. I’m with the captain, I say we go with them.”

  Caught off guard by the assertion, Samantha asked, “Why?”

  “I have every reason to trust Faolan,” Boomer said with confidence.

  “You never trust anyone. For heaven’s sake, the man tried to buy me an hour ago. Did timetravel rattle your brain? You once threatened to kill a man for offering to buy me a drink,” Samantha replied.

  “That guy was a drunk ass who stared too hard at your boobs. Trust me, Sam,” Boomer said.

  “You are still in command, Samantha. However, our options are limited, and a cave is our only other option, albeit not a great one. Going with them gives us a place to start and some security. It also keeps us from running into any other indigenous people,” Jeff added.

  Th
ey were right and wrong all at the same time. Samantha looked between the two men. She knew her men would be safer behind walls, and that had to be priority one. She acquiesced, “Fine, we go home with them. But have you considered we will be greatly outnumbered once within those nice walls?”

  Jeff answered, “I have considered that. If I remember my history correctly, a guest is sacred in this time. They appear to be honorable men.” He added with a small chuckle, “Besides for the whole buying you thing.”

  She gave them both Faolan’s explanation of why he offered. To her disgust, both of them accepted it as a simple and understandable truth.

  Jeff mocked, “I just wonder why he offered me the plain dagger. He has a pretty one with semi-precious stones sticking out of his boot.”

  Boomer teased, “Maybe he’s only a little sweet on her.”

  “I should have left you both stranded in Siberia in 1647,” Samantha said. “Pull a few men to help gather the livestock. I want boots walking in thirty.” She ignored the laughter and went to meet her men.

  Chapter 6

  Including Jeff Harrison and Boomer, there were nine men under her command. Jeff had been correct when he said they were good men, or more correctly that most were good men. Corporal Jensen was the exception. He was the one who attacked Kagen and had a blatant disregard for her authority. While the rest of the men had disobeyed bad orders, Jensen had taken matters a bit more in hand. The corporal had killed his commanding officer. If Jensen was to be believed, it was because the C.O. had refused to grant him a promised leave. Jensen was a bad seed with a large attitude problem. He would need to be watched for the safety of the rest of the men.

  The rest had disobeyed orders that should have never been given; orders to kill unarmed locals, raid stores, attack weaker members of their team, and steal supplies from other divisions. Captain Jeff Harrison was no exception; he had been ordered to destroy a small town in Southern Florida. Command believed it was occupied by the enemy, though all recon proved opposite. He had disobeyed and refused and subsequently lost his lieutenant colonel rank and been sentenced to death.