Her agreement did not take the heavy guilt from my back.
Finlay, Kenric, little Logan and his wolfhound Mialchu were at the stable gathered around the impatient, stomping ponies. Logan, at six sun cycles, was Kenric’s oldest, and looked through his father’s gray blue eyes. His mother’s blond hair was tied back with a short piece of leather. His feet were in one place, but his body bounced all over the stable. I stood and watched, amazed at how he could move yet not move. Small boys were to be watched and kept from harm, but not understood by adults.
Kenric asked whether Logan could ride with me. He was too small for his own pony on such a long journey. Our supplies, Kenric’s and Finlay’s swords and shields were strapped to the rumps of their ponies. There was no room for Logan.
“I will be honored to ride with the grandson of Beathan. I will tell him stories of his grandfather,” I said.
I wore the leather pouch decorated with the labyrinth Lovern had drawn. I tied my dirk to my belt, and a short sword that had been Beathan’s hung across my chest. It was a gift from Kenric when I walked again. It had hung in Beathan’s lodge. Kenric told me to use it for protection. It lay well balanced and not heavy in my hand. With it, I would kill the next man who hurt me.
Finlay handed me the bowl, wrapped in soft doe’s skin, and I slipped it into the bodice of my dress. My corded belt held it in place. I used a small stool to mount the pony, and swung my leg over its back with a grimace. Logan was boosted up. I hoped for some peace as he began to wriggle and grope for a place to hang on. We rode, one in front of the other, down the trail to the lake.
Logan was unsettled so to quiet him for a few moments, I started a story. “I remember, when I was your age, your grandfather, my uncle, would throw me into the air. I loved it, but Mother hated it. She was sure he would drop me. I would cry until she gave in. He would throw me one more time and catch me. He then kissed my mother on her cheek and told me to run and play with Kenric, your father. He was a good man, your grandfather. We are a stronger people because of him. That is why we make this journey.”
Logan told me his stories of when Beathan tossed him into the air, too. His mother had reacted the same as mine.
“I miss my grandfather,” said Logan.
“Yes. So do I,” I said.
Beathan’s bowl began its journey.
CHAPTER 11
AINE
April, 2005
George’s thick white eyebrows lifted in recognition when he saw Marc waving. He waved back, and then his hand fell to his balding head as if to straighten hair he’d remembered he used to have. He wore his uniform of khaki, multi-pocketed pants and a tan, long sleeved shirt.
“Good,” he said. “I was hoping both of you would be here.”
He leaned his tall, work-stooped frame just enough to kiss me on my upturned cheek. I smelled coffee on his breath and saw crumbs of his breakfast on his shirt. His rough hands brushed my cheeks. He hated wearing gloves when working, always afraid of missing something. Time had created a road map of capillaries on his face that was new since the last time I had seen him. He also looked tired.
“How are you, my girl?”
He was a trusted friend of my family. He knew my dad when they were younger and my dad made him promise to watch over me at university. Although my father died years ago, George still looked out for me.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m so glad to see you again. It’s been far too long.”
I put my arm through his and noticed he seemed a bit thinner than I remembered.
“How have you been?” I asked, patting his shoulder.
“Oh, you know, all the aches and pains that come with age. But I find, now that I’m retired, I have more work to do than ever, so I don’t dwell on my problems.”
He retired three years ago, but was still invited to most of the digs in Great Britain as a consultant. We were lucky to have him.
Marc picked up George’s bag and we climbed into the Rover. We dropped his bag off at Mrs. Dingleberrie’s and were on the hilltop by mid-morning.
“We’ve only been here two days but have part of a domicile excavated,” I said. “I’m expecting to find more very soon. I’m really excited about being here.”
I immediately saw the look I dreaded from his class when I would go to him and ask for an extension on my papers. I could never get them pared down to the page number requirement.
“You’re always trying to make something bigger than it really is, Aine. Well, we’ll see. I needed a small vacation for a day or two and then it’s back to my report. It’s worth the trip just to see you both on a job together,” he said, smiling.
“Yes. It’s been enjoyable so far.” Marc said, looking at me with a smile. He winked and I blushed. “We have a small crew, but all hard workers.”
We stopped at the edge of the excavated area where Matt and Tim were on their knees, trowels and brushes in hand.
“Did it stay dry?” I asked, changing the subject.
Tim and Matt stood and shook George’s hand.
“We had to use a bucket to get some of the water off the tarp before we moved it, but it’s dry enough here,” said Tim.
“Good. I see standing water in places. We could have been up to our knees if we hadn’t covered it,” I said.
“It is a good thing the tarps worked,” said Marc. “We probably don’t have enough money to get a pump and generator if we flooded. We’d have to break camp. We may have to do that in a day or so anyway if something more doesn’t show up.”
“I really don’t think we’ll have to worry about that anymore, Marc. I feel it in my bones,” I argued.
“As nice as your bones are, they could be mistaken,” Marc said.
I gulped and had no answer to that truth. My stomach was back on its nervous roil as Marc and I walked George around the site.
“You must have trusted Aine’s instincts somewhat,” George said as he reached over, tucked me protectively under his arm, and gave me a hug while we walked. “You called me and I’m glad you did. I’m happy to be here for her, even if only for a few days. I’ll help in any way I can.” He smiled at me. “You were a great help when my Sophie died. I’d’ve had a hard time of it if you hadn’t come and helped me. I’ll look around. If I think it is warranted, I know where we can get some funding.”
My hope leaped at this bit of good news, but the pressure was on. All I had to do was find something in the next few days. Jahna, I need you now, more than ever.
We were back at the tent and Kendy showed us her drawings of bits of pottery and the bronze blade we found yesterday.
“Marc, I’m going to take a hike up the mountain a bit,” I said. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to get to the trail to see if I could find the spot Jahna had shown me last night. I located the area the sun was shining on yesterday while we walked around. “I’ll take my camera. I think it would be valuable to have some photos of the hilltop and the surrounding area from above.” I pointed up. “The sky looks as if it might rain again, and I want to go before it starts.” From the way the clouds were forming, I figured I had several more hours before we had to pack it up and go back to the inn. I couldn’t waste time.
George agreed. “There might be some ancient trails that show up in photos from above. I think that’s a good idea. It might give us an idea how popular this hill was. Wait. I brought some new toys, walkie-talkies. Aine, why don’t you take one? They’re supposed to have a range of over two kilometers. This will be a good test. I’ve not had to use them this far away before. When you get up there, call and tell us what you see.”
I grabbed my pack, put in my camera, the walkie-talkie, a bottle of water and started to the mountain that flanked the hill.
I skirted around the standing water and mud puddles on the hilltop and found the trailhead. I hopped over ruts formed by rivulets that had run down it last night. The mountain was picturesque. Greenery of all shades was starting to show in the spring warming. Grasses and small
brush surrounded granite boulders that seemed to burst out of the mountain’s side. It wasn’t a big mountain, but a respectable one in one’s book of mountains, I thought. The trail led me in a zigzag fashion, the way animals would clamber up. I followed it without much difficulty, stepping carefully to avoid slipping in the mud.
The larger exposed boulders partially hid my view of the hill below. About halfway up the trail, I stopped. The boulders opened up, and I saw the valley and hill clearly. The hilltop was just large enough for a few dwellings and the accompanying animals. We had uncovered the first sign of habitation and I visualized the rest of the fort. The depression that would have been the defensive wall followed the shape of the hill. I imagined people walking in the courtyard and animals in the stables.
Looking out over the fields, I saw the bog where Mr. Treadwell let some of his Highland cattle feed. There might have been a lake there at one time. On either side, now surrounded by stone walls that were centuries old, lay other fields that looked as if rows of ancient cultivation were plowed into them. They were now pastures for cattle.
As I turned back to the hilltop, I had a dizzying feeling of déjà vu. I had been on this spot last night. I looked through Jahna’s eyes with this view filling my vision. The spot now being excavated was where she saw her home in my awake dream. It was exactly where I decided to start digging. I knew she had come here to look over her home, happy with her life. There was nothing else I wanted more than to know her at that moment. She was happy, and I would have loved to see her and talk to her at that point in her life. She had given me a gift. Jahna allowed me to feel her joy.
I turned to go on, but something looked strange from the corner of my eye. An unusual slab of stone, actually a large piece of slate, was set into the mountain. It was out of place. This was a granite mountain, and didn’t have slate running through it naturally. Earth partially covered the slab, and a mound of dirt directly under it must have come off in the rainstorm last night. On its left was a trickle waterfall from last night’s rain. The soil was saturated.
Suddenly, I was depressed. My shoulders fell forward, and sadness filled me. I almost fell. I put my hand against the slate as a brace and sat down to catch my breath. The peaceful feeling was gone. I couldn’t understand the grief that replaced it. For a moment, it seemed all my dreams had vanished, that there was nothing left to live for.
I sat with my back against the slate, unable to see the hilltop below me. Dark shadows filled my eyes. I closed them to gather my strength to stand again, and felt the slate grow warm against my back. It was as if it were sun warmed, but the sun hadn’t cut through the clouds for hours. I leaned forward and, still seated on the damp trail, scooted around to face the slate. It was dark, the color of the damp earth around it, and large, about one and a half meters across and over a meter high. I traced it with my fingertips and found the outside edges buried in dirt. It was a huge piece of slate that should not have been there. Someone must have placed it for a purpose. I had to know who placed it and why it was here. Starting to try to dig around the stone with my fingers, I remembered the walkie-talkie. I pressed the button and said, “Hello George. Would you get Marc for me please?”
“Sure. I’m walking over to him now. Where are you?”
I stood up and waved my arms. “I am about halfway up the trail, and I’ve found something I’d like Marc to come see.”
“Hi, Aine. Oh, there you are, I see you waving,” said Marc. “What is it?”
“There’s a slab of slate up here. It looks human placed. Could you bring up some of our tools so we can take a look?”
“Should I get a pry bar from the Rover?”
“Yes, I think we might need it,” I said.
“George says he is coming too. He suspects the view from up there is good.”
“Tell him he won’t be disappointed. I’ll take pictures of the stone and the surrounding area until you get here. You should also bring a tarp, the ground up here is very damp and we don’t want to be sitting on it for long without protection,” I said and wiped some of the mud off the bottom of my pants. “Bring Kendy along. We should get some grid sketches before we try to move it, too.”
“OK. We’ll be there soon,” Marc said.
While I waited, I took pictures of the surrounding valley, the hilltop and the stone slab. I put my hand next to it to give it a size comparison and pulled out my notebook to make a sketch. I wanted my own record. I knew this was important.
As soon as they arrived, we spread out the tarp. Kendy sketched the hillside and the slab. We used GPS readings and measurements to get its exact placement.
Finally, Kendy said she had enough information and Marc and I started cutting the soil away from its edges.
“It sure looks like it was covered originally. Either by humans or an early slide,” said George. “Last night’s rain must have loosened the soil just enough. The topsoil here looks a bit unstable so be careful. There is a shoulder of earth just above you that looks as if it could cause some trouble.”
I looked up where he was pointing and said, “Then we need to get it excavated so it doesn’t get covered up again. I don’t want to lose it. I have a feeling this is very important.”
“Okay,” Marc said. “We have it as far as we can go by hand. Grab here while I use the pry bar to loosen it a bit on this side.” The stone started to lean back and let light behind it for the first time in, I was betting, centuries.
“Stop,” I yelled. “There’s an opening. It looks like a cave. Let me take some pictures before you move it further.”
Marc and George held the slab in place, while I took pictures of the stone and the hole behind it. Kendy was furiously drawing. A minute later, we had it moved to the side and the mouth of the cave exposed.
I stood trembling while Marc, using a flashlight, peered into it. “It seems to go back a bit but I can’t see a lot through this small opening,” Marc said.
I got down on my stomach and crawled to the edge of the opening so I had a direct view into the cave. “This was dug by someone. It’s short, about four meters. I can see the end of it. And about a meter or a little more high and wide. I can see more slate lining its bottom and sides. There is a box of some sort toward the back,” I said, excitedly. “I’m going in.”
“Wait, Aine,” George and Marc said together.
“Do you think you should be going inside? This looks pretty water logged and could be dangerous,” asked George.
Marc continued, “We don’t have the best equipment to get anyone out if it collapses while someone is in there.”
“I’m willing to take the risk,” I said. “We need a big find to help fund this project, Marc, and this could be it. This cave is man made and is lined with slate. And that box. What could be in that box? I don’t have time to wait. I’m the only one who will fit in that hole. I am going in now.”
On my tummy, camera in one hand and flashlight in the other, I inched forward like a worm. I tried to keep the flashlight focused on the box and took pictures as I slid myself further into the dark cave.
“I’m at the box! Oh my gosh! Its sides are pieces of slate, balanced against the sides of the cave and each other. There is a larger piece that is the lid. There isn’t room in here to do anything more than lift the lid so here goes.”
The stale air made me sweat. I lifted the lid, slowly. The front and back sides of the box fell inward and banged against what was inside. I held my breath, and hoped I hadn’t broken anything. I laid the lid to the side, and saw a faded design painted on it. I couldn’t see what it was. I expected to be able to look it over more carefully outside, but now I longed to see what was behind the rest of the slate. I pulled the front side down and my flashlight highlighted a raven design. Three ravens intertwined. There, in front of me, was the bronze bowl I had seen in my dream last night.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” I screamed. “There’s a bronze bowl in here. Marc, I’ve found another bronze bowl!”
/> “Wow!” said Marc.
“Take pictures!” said Kendy.
“Be careful,” said George.
I snapped about thirty pictures, still unbelieving what I had discovered and said, “I am going to pick it up and bring it out.” I laid my camera and flashlight down and wrapped my hands around the bowl. I glanced up and noticed a shadow at the back of the cave. Something was on the floor, just beyond the bowl. I was drawn to it but first I wanted to get the bowl out.
“OK. You’ll have to help me. I have my hands full and can only use my elbows to move.” I felt myself being tugged by the hem of my pants. I inched backwards and my shirt bunched around my waist.
Finally out, I handed the bowl to Marc and stood, pulling my shirt down.
“There’s something inside,” said George. “It looks like cremated remains. It could be a burial bowl. We can send it to Glasgow for testing.”
I gently liberated the bowl from Marc’s sweaty hands. It was the size of a large grapefruit with three ravens engraved on the outside. As I held it, I felt the same heavy grief I had felt before. My shoulders slumped as I realized these must be Jahna’s ashes. I had found Jahna’s remains. I didn’t want to let it out of my sight but I realized it should be studied. “Okay. Yes. Send it to Glasgow. There probably are human remains in the bowl. Let’s see if there are enough remains for it to be sexed.”
“Good idea,” said Marc. “It could be another chieftain.”
“Could be,” I said. “Could be.” But I knew he was wrong.
“Kendy, would you walk it down for me?” I asked. “I need to go back in and get the camera.” George placed the bowl and its contents into a large, plastic bag, keeping it upright.
“Please be extra careful, Kendy. The trail is very slippery,” I said.
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