For now and forever. Amen.
“Your mother’s prayer.” Henry broke the silence.
“Aye.” Mary Elizabeth closed the book that contained her ramblings as a time traveller and as a queen. She stood up slowly, allowing her old bones to crackle in protest. Picking up the journal, she stacked it with her grandmother’s and the other journals, and moved toward the loose stone. Pulling it out, she placed the journals carefully inside the hidden space, and then she replaced the stone.
“My mother’s box of treasures and letters is also in there,” she said as she moved slowly back to her seat by the fire. “Take care of it all and pass it on only to the one who will carry the torch once your time is finished."
Henry watched his grandmother carefully, his love showing in his reflective gaze. “I know. I have found it in the future, Grandmother,” he said once she had positioned herself as comfortably as possible. “Just as you said I would. I have come to see you off, as you predicted I would. Are the others here yet?”
“No, but they will be soon.” He referred to her grandmother, Lady Mary Catherine, and Jamie. She knew that. She had shared so much of the other time travellers and their importance in her life with him. Henry had even met them, joining his great grandmother on a journey well into the past to a time when everything seemed to stand still as Mary Elizabeth waited in the northern isles for her time to become Queen of Scotland.
She waved to a chair. “Come sit with me while we wait. I have much to tell you, but some of it I will tell you in the future, when the past me visits you there.”
“You must not tire yourself, Grandmother.”
“Ah! My great grandson, you know that even time travellers like us have a limited number of days. You have come for my passing as I will be at yours. Others, long gone from this timeline, will soon join us. My grandmother and my cousin, Jamie.”
“The man you would have married.”
“Aye.” she replied wistfully. “We have a great gift, Henry, and we must not abuse it. I know you will not take advantage of your time travelling skills, but there are others, well into the future, whom you must reach out to and convince them to use their gifts wisely. It is all about our country, Scotland, keeping it strong and independent.”
“For now and forever,” Henry said reflectively, quoting the oft-said rallying call of the Scottish people.
“Aye, for now and forever.” They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Mary Elizabeth broke the silence first. “I have often puzzled over the many what ifs. What if Grandmother had not rescued me at Loch Leven, the day I was born, the day my twin brother was stillborn? What if I had failed in my many attempts to claim this kingdom? Life is so full of unknowns and, even though we can jump around in time and see what might happen in the future or what may be a better course of action in our own timeline, we are just as cursed with the what ifs as the ordinary men and women who do not possess our gift.”
“I will use it wisely, Grandmother,” Henry reassured her, reaching across the table to firmly grasp her hand. He started at the icy chill that emanated from her hand. “You are cold, Grandmother. I should fetch you another blanket and stoke the fire.”
Mary Elizabeth grasped Henry’s hand firmly and motioned for him to stay where he was. She pulled at the ring that had laid claim to the baby finger of her left hand since that day, oh so long ago and far into the future, when her grandmother had given it to her. Only that had been another timeline, one that Mary Elizabeth and the others had changed frequently. It had once been her grandmother’s ring, then her mother’s ring, and finally hers. It was time to pass it on.
She gazed fondly at the Stuart crest mounted on the top of the ring. The Stuart motto, Nemo me impune lacessit, was etched around its circumference. “No one attacks me with impunity,” she said the words in English. “How appropriate. And we have stood by that motto and will do so long into the future.”
The ring was tight on her finger and it didn’t want to budge. She fought with it and twisted it, finally pulling it free. She handed it to Henry. “It was meant to be passed only to the first born daughter, but it is now yours,” she said, a weak smile stretching across her face. “Wear it well and keep it with you always. It is your heritage.”
“I will, Grandmother.” Henry took the ring and placed it on the baby finger of his left hand. It fit well. “I am honored.” He glanced across the table, his smile as feeble as his grandmother’s, tears streaking down his cheeks. He knew he would see her again, but not as he saw her now, from this timeline.
She reached to her shoulder and unfastened the Stuart brooch that she had worn every day since that first night in the MacGregor cottage near Kinross. Was it that long ago? There were times when it felt like only yesterday.
Free from its place of honor, she held it in front of her to examine its fine details, noticing how the light from the flames in the hearth reflected elegantly and mysteriously in the jewel that sat encased in the centre. She allowed her fingers to trace the design, sniffling back a tear of grief before passing it to her great grandson. For it was he who would now carry on the torch and ensure Scotland’s prosperity and independence well into the future. Mary Elizabeth pulled out a fine lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes.
“Grandmother.” Henry spoke softly, but with a sudden urgency. He had news that he wanted to share with someone and this ancestor of his —this noble queen who did so much for her country, his country – she was the only one he knew of who would understand. At least he hoped that she would. “Grandmother,” he repeated himself, his voice a little louder this time, surer, more determined. “I have been to the future – way into the future. I have met them.”
“Who, Henry? Met who?” Mary Elizabeth’s voice was weakening, but her mind was still sharp. Why was her grandson so anxious to share this visit? Of course he had been to the future. She had, too. That’s what time travellers did. What had he seen, what had he learned, that was so important?
She was finding it increasingly more difficult to stay alert. Everything seemed so foggy. She was fading away. Her time was near.
“We have been used as guinea pigs, Grandmother, lab rats.” He wasn’t reaching her. She didn’t understand what he was talking about. He could see that she was fading and fading fast. He wanted her to know, though. He wanted to share with her what he had learned. “Scientists in the twenty-fifth century have travelled through time and implanted tracing devices in our heads, like the microchips they started implanting in pets in the late twentieth century. We were the chosen; we were studied intently. We have been followed, stalked through time.”
The voice of her grandson became muffled as if he were mumbling. Mary Elizabeth no longer understood what he was saying. Looking beyond Henry, her face perked up as she beamed her brightest smile. Henry was still talking, something about science and microchips and stalkers.
He noticed his grandmother’s smile, her look of joy as her eyes sought someone standing behind him. He stopped talking; she no longer understood what he said, that much was obvious. Fastening the brooch to his tunic, he followed his grandmother’s gaze, just behind him.
“You have come Grandmother, Lady Mary Catherine, Jamie.” She said in greeting. “And just in time.”
Shadows of figures glimmered by the window, slowly taking shape. There were three. They nodded at Henry, but beckoned to Mary Elizabeth. When Henry returned his gaze to his grandmother, she had slumped over. He felt for a pulse.
There was none.
“For now and forever,” he murmured as he allowed the tears to streak down his cheeks unchecked. “I will see you in the future, Grandmother. Nemo me impune lacessit. For now and forever.”
Acknowledgments
I don’t know if I would be here today as an award-winning author if it hadn’t been for the encouragement I received from family: my parents, my husband, and, especially, my grandmother, Margaret Murray (Dickson) Downer (1902-1995). Gran, as we called her, shared w
ith me a passion for reading and history, particularly Scottish history, royal history, and, of course, the stories and facts that surrounded the ill-fated Mary Queen of Scots. When the two of us visited Scotland in 1973, not only were we tracing Gran’s ancestry (she was born in Scotland), but also the castles and castle ruins that marked the historic path of Mary Stuart (also spelled Stewart; I used the Stuart spelling in my novel). Gran ignited the passion of fascination and I continued to read and study this time period in Scottish history long after Gran passed away. With the continual battle to regain Scottish independence and the new issue coined as Brexit, I saw a possible story that could suggest an alternate course, if only the power to travel through time was a reality in our time and dimension. My scenario would certainly erase the years of English dominance and brutality of Scotland and the Scottish people.
Special thanks as always to my daughter, Margaret, for her special talents in finding the errors and inconsistencies that I always miss. And thanks also to, my efficient, thorough, and thoughtful editors at Clean Reads for their help and support in seeing this book to its published form.
HISTORICAL NOTE
What if? We are always challenged with the multiple possibilities of random 'what if' scenarios. Taking some notes from history and adding a little bit of fantasy and science fiction, I have re-written another plausible outline of Scottish history since the sixteenth century. And it all begins with Mary Queen of Scots imprisonment at Loch Leven Castle in 1567. After a short, ill-fated marriage to Lord Bothwell, Queen Mary was captured, imprisoned, and forced to abdicate in favor of her infant son, James, with her half-brother, Jamie Stuart (also spelled Stewart), acting as regent. She was handed over to the noble house of Sir William Douglas, who would act as her gaoler during her time at Loch Leven. Queen Mary, as history records, gave birth to twins while at Loch Leven, Lord Bothwell being the father. It was a premature birth and history notes that the twins died at birth and were buried on the island on which the castle stood in the middle of Loch Leven. No evidence of this burial has ever been recovered. Did the twins die? Did one live and was whisked away into a life of oblivion? Or, what if someone from the future rescued one of the twins and took the infant to the twentieth century for special care, to keep the preemie alive? Then, what if the little princess grew up and returned to the sixteenth century and challenged both her brother, King James VI of Scotland, and the errant Queen Elizabeth I, to allow her to rule Scotland after Elizabeth’s death and James’ acceptance of the throne of England? So many what ifs: some pure speculative fantasy, some based on historic fact.
Much of this story is based on facts. Queen Elizabeth I did imprison her cousin, Mary Queen of Scots, and she did have her executed at Fotheringay Castle. King James VI, Queen Mary’s son, ruled Scotland until Queen Elizabeth passed away without heirs, leaving the combined kingdoms of England, Ireland, and Scotland to James, who then became King James I of England, Ireland, and Scotland.
Historical facts and dates are accurate, for the most part, except where some events were fantasised to fit into the new plot, the life of the unknown princess, Mary Elizabeth (a completely fictional character, or so we may believe). The facts surrounding the Earls of Northumberland and the magnificent home castle, Alnwick, were altered to fit into the plot. One of the Earls was indeed outlawed by Queen Elizabeth I for his involvement in trying to help Queen Mary escape. He was stripped of his titles, lands, and castle. His heirs seemed like good characters to resurrect to support Princess Mary Elizabeth’s cause, as his family had supported her mother during her imprisonment.
Hadrian’s Wall, built to keep the Picts in Scotland, seemed like a logical choice to create the new border between England and Scotland, especially since many of the northern Lords supported and tried to help the imprisoned Scottish queen.
There are other places, events, and personages of interest, some mentioned, others not. This is a story, a work of fiction, pure and simple. It is a story that opens up a realm of possibilities. If only…
What else can I say? History was written, but if time travel ever does exist, it can and probably will be re-written. With the increasing uncertainty surrounding Great Britain’s desire to exit the European Union, Scotland has ignited a new, and somewhat stronger, fervor to gain its own independence. It’s too bad the amalgamation of the seventeenth century under the rule of King James I backfired so badly over the succeeding centuries. Greed. It always boils down to greed. But the English and the Scots have always been at odds, even before King James I tried to bring them together under one rule and his abysmal successors tried to overpower the Scottish land and people, and, in some instances, attempted to wipe them out.
Sit back and enjoy a realm of possibilities and what ifs. Perhaps in another time, another dimension, there is another plausibility, another historical timeline.
Emily-Jane Hills Orford
About the Author
Emily-Jane Hills Orford is an award-winning author of several books, including Gerlinda which received an Honorable Mention in the 2016 Readers’ Favorite Book Awards, To Be a Duke which was named Finalist and Silver Medalist in the 2015 Next Generation Indie Book Awards and received an Honorable Mention in the 2015 Readers’ Favorite Book Awards, F-Stop: A Life in Pictures, which was named Finalist in the 2012 Next Generation Indie Book Awards and The Whistling Bishop, which was named Finalist in the 2011 Next Generation Indie Book Awards. She writes about the extra-ordinary in life and her books, short stories, and articles are receiving considerable attention.
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