by LAURA HARNER
By Danu, some of the Druid’s powers must have escaped his body as he lay on top of them, near death. And those powers had found a more worthy vessel, in Stephan. At last, his destiny would be fulfilled. He would become the most powerful Druid, possess skills to control people and events, draw on spirits to aid him in his righteous quest to restore Druidry to its proper place in this world. People would bow down before him.
It was only a matter of time before Ian led the guards to carry Gabhran’s body back to the Highlands, and it would be a simple matter to make sure the job started by the assassins was completed.
****
In the far south of England on a deserted shore, away from villages and prying eyes, a man threw a body from a small boat, and there was no regret in his heart for the loss of life. It had been necessary to strip every bit of knowledge from the man’s mind and then kill him. It had also been his only chance of survival.
When Robert had requested that a MacLachlan undertake this role of emissary, none expected danger to come on the first part of the journey, unless England’s King Edward discovered the trip, and there was no fear of that happening. Only a handful of the most trusted men knew.
Nay, ‘twas not thought there would be danger until the return, should he be bringing the Scottish King additional commitments in the form of ambassadors, money, or arms. Yet a mere few days into their journey a ship had begun to trace their path, and it bore no flag, disguising the true nature of its intentions. Much as the mission of Robert’s ship had also been disguised, for they sailed on a simple five mast ship of a merchant marine.
A member of Robert’s personal guard had been aboard the ship with Alexander, both as personal protection and as an aid to lend credence to the nature of their mission when they were granted audience with the foreign royals. Tristan, as the guard was called, provided the ship’s captain with Robert’s orders to change course, to disguise the true nature of their journey should they suspect they were being followed. The ship turned to the leeward side of a small island that would provide shelter, and the crew prepared to let the other ship pass.
Tristan hustled Alexander to the longboat, along with minimal provisions, and sheltered from view by their own ship, they rowed to the island and took temporary refuge, obliterating any sign of their presence on the rocky shore. Other than the two of them, there was nothing to disclose the nature of the journey, nor was there anything of value aboard. The privateers would soon leave to seek more profitable targets, and Tristan and Alexander would return to the ship.
From the safety of the caves near the beach, the two men watched in growing horror as the privateers turned their own ship and extended the barrels of the cannons, then let loose a barrage of fire on the unarmed merchant vessel. Explosions and the smell of sulphur filled the air. When the smoke cleared, the ship carrying Alexander was mere pieces of splintered wood, and the masts of the privateers’ ship were but a faint dot on the horizon.
Alexander and Tristan had combed the rocky shore of their small island, gathering driftwood, nets, pieces of sail, and other debris from the ship that might be useful. They found a vat of rum, of all things, still intact, bobbing merrily in an alcove, a case of claymores and dirks nearby. They gathered the bodies that washed ashore, and after waiting a day, believing danger from the privateers would be well passed, they built a funeral pyre. The danger of trying to sail the long boat without maps, provisions, or shelter was too great, unless they could see another ship on the horizon that might lend aid. For now they would set about surviving.
After fortifying their shelter, they began to explore the island, testing the boundaries and possibilities. They shared stories of their lives as they worked together, and Alexander soon discovered that Tristan’s time at court with Robert was relatively recent.
His days were filled with thoughts of escaping the island, unraveling whether the attack had been part of a larger conspiracy, and answering Tristan’s endless questions. His nights were reserved for thoughts of Lissa. Night after night he lay beneath the stars, arms folded behind his head, and wondered, where his Lissa was now?
When at last the efforts of the day made his limbs and eyelids heavy, he slept. ‘Twas not a dreamless sleep, nay, Lissa came with him into slumber, and och, his nights were filled with love.
Each day, their efforts to gather food began anew. Thinking about it later, Alexander was never quite sure what tipped him off, but it came too late. ‘Twas evening and it had been Tristan’s turn to prepare the meal. Alexander built the fire, a brought over logs to see them through the evening. Tristan continued to pepper him with his incessant questions. Alexander was surprised to feel a faint tingle of his Druid senses.
‘Twas nothing he could point his finger to, just a sudden sense of unease as Tristan prattled and probed. He gently tried deep reading Tristan’s thoughts and was surprised to find a barrier had been erected to keep him out. Now that was curious, what could Tristan be hiding?
Alexander’s Druid training had been accomplished in secret, ‘twas knowledge it was his sacred duty to protect. He had never even spoken of it to his brother, although he suspected Gabhran had been able to sense the power within him. Alex could certainly sense the Druid strength within Gav. Gabhran would have realized there was a reason it had been hidden and bided his time, knowing all would be revealed in time.
Tristan’s puny powers were no match for the power that flowed in Alex’s veins. He could have smashed Tristan’s barriers into dust with one powerful probe, but he’d thought the better choice was to continue to feign ignorance and spend the eve and morrow looking for a pattern to Tristan’s questions. Then mayhap he would confront him with his suspicions.
It had been a terrible mistake to grant that leniency, and it had cost Alex months, as he succumbed to the effect of the drugs in his dinner that eve. The days and nights took on a hellish quality, as Tristan kept him drugged and chained to a rocky arch outside a cave. He asked the same questions over and over, refusing to accept Alexander’s repeated proclamations of ignorance.
He asked of Druid writings, of the Talisman of Cycles, of Edinburgh, and of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and of things no man alive in this century could know. Alexander continued to deny knowledge of that which Tristan asked, despite the drugs, the torture, and the starvation. He retreated to a place deep within himself, gave himself over to the Druid within him, and he survived. He became stronger.
Alex finally realized it was naught more than a binding spell, the chains, and the drugs that kept him there, and the first two could be easily dealt with, if he could avoid the drugs for a time to clear his head. He continued to bide his time, letting the Druid within him grow e’er stronger. When he’d finally felt his inner strength reach its peak, Alex feigned greater weakness, acted unable to retain his food and liquid, and Tristan, so confident in his complete domination had ceased giving him drugs for the day. By nightfall, Alexander had been able to perform the necessary spell to release the binding spell and chains. With one immense mental probe, he smashed through Tristan’s barriers and the man lay incapacitated on the ground.
Alexander waited a week, to regain his strength and to gather food and water before attempting to put the long boat to sea, determined to return home at all costs. He must get home and reach his mentor, he must protect all that was sacred, and he must set things to right. He had no doubts, no hesitation about where his duty lay. Once his duties had been met, however, he would claim his Alysone for all time.
Chapter Twenty-six
“Alysone, is my given name,” Lissa said, her voice sounding surprised at Randi’s question. “I couldna pronounce it when I was small, I said Lis, and Alexander took to calling me wee Lissa when I followed him around the grounds. The name Lissa just stayed with me. None call me Alysone now, except Alexander.” She laughed softly.
Randi was suddenly energized. “I want to tell you about where I’m from…”
She told stories of New Orleans, and the people who lived t
here. Without speaking of time or inventions that didn’t yet exist, she told of how her mother had disappeared and of being raised by her extended family.
Lissa listened with rapt attention, finally interjecting, “That is similar to my story!”
“Lissa, do you believe in magick, for the rest of my story will sound crazy, unless you can believe in magick.”
“There are things I know about the MacLachlan, that no one else knows,” Lissa said softly, her breath coming fast.
“Gabhran is my husband, I know he believes in magick.” She paused significantly, “He believes in Druids.”
With a huge sigh, Lissa continued, “Aye I believe in magick and Druidry. Gav left to train in Druid ways when he was sixteen.” She stopped and weighed her words before continuing. “Alex also trained, but it was in secret. I doona believe he ever told Gav, but they are both verra powerful men, with much magick. I used to help Alex meet with his Druid Master. I helped him keep his secret.”
Randi was momentarily struck by a wave of jealousy as she listened to Lissa use the familiar names of Gav and Alex. Not jealousy of a romantic sort, rather she was envious of all the time that Lissa got to know Gabhran. She had played with him as a child, they had nicknames for each other, they had a relationship that spanned years, not mere weeks.
With a sigh, Randi continued. “I come from family with a different type magick, and many of the women were born with the gift of sight, not fortunetelling exactly, but seers who see possible futures.” She looked at Lissa, who nodded that she understood.
“My cousin Marie is the most powerful of these seers, and she told me that Gabhran is my destiny. She also told me to stay near him because something very hard to believe was about to happen to him. I believed her and that night I slept with Gabhran, holding him through the night.”
Lissa’s face looked confused, and Randi knew this was the critical part. Either something she was about to say would trigger a similar memory or Lissa would ease herself away from Randi and think she was crazy. With a silent plea to any hovering spirits for strength, Randi took that leap of faith.
“When Gabhran and I went to sleep that night, we were in a time and place that was very far away. We were in the twenty-first century. New Orleans is in a country that you’ve never heard of in this century. When I awoke the next morning, I was here in this time. Gabhran thought we’d been married the previous day, and he remembered nothing of our time in New Orleans. He didn’t remember me except as a woman he had just met and married. And he didn’t act happy at all to be with me.”
There it was, she’d told Lissa the worst of it, and if she could find a way to accept this part of Randi’s story, there was hope they could work together to find a solution. She looked at Lissa, who had gone very pale and was sitting very still. Uh oh. Lissa jumped to her feet, swayed for a moment, then Randi caught her as her knees buckled, and down she went. So much for that idea.
When Lissa recovered, Randi suggested they forget about all this and get some breakfast, but Lissa stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“There is more. There is something about me in your story. Tell me,” she insisted.
“Yes, there is more.” No reason to hold back now. Randi told of how Gabhran had experienced times that he woke in new lives, that he didn’t remember how he had gotten to where he was, that he felt he had lived in many places and many times.
Lissa’s breathing was very fast and shallow now, and Randi was concerned. She poured the young woman a glass of water, but Lissa shook her off.
Randi continued with the part of Gabhran’s story that she knew. “Gabhran travelled to New Orleans because he read of a young woman who claimed to have awakened one day in a new reality. She remembered nothing of her family and friends and she thought she had lived in other times and places. Her story was very similar to his and he thought they might be able to help each other.
“When he found her, they spent many days together sharing their stories, before something happened to her. He went to the hospital one morning, only to find the young woman was missing. I had just met him a few days before that and we were looking for the woman when my cousin Marie sensed Gabhran was about to be pulled to another time. She thought if I stayed next to him, we could prevent or at least delay it for a few days.
“It was my job to find the young woman and Gabhran told me much about her before we were pulled back to this time. She was about twenty-four, slender, small in stature, with long, very light blond hair, and a heart-shaped face. Her most unusual feature was her violet eyes.”
Randi waited for those same violet eyes to meet her gaze. When they did, she added one final bit of information. “Her name was Alysone.”
Lissa’s eyes had lost their focus, and she stared inward at some memory Randi couldn’t see. Finally, she started to speak.
“I was sixteen when Alexander first kissed me. I begged him to take me, to make me his woman, and there would be no obligation on his part. Agnes had talked him into sending me to Edinburgh to protect my virtue.” She placed her hands on her swollen belly, and smiled wryly.
“He kissed me and ‘twas as though I had only been half complete my entire life until that moment. We could not stop ourselves, fire was within us. Then Alex pulled himself back, he whispered something. I thought he said he loved me. Then I didna remember more.”
Randi was very still, smiling gently, silently encouraging Lissa.
Lissa looked up and continued, her voice nearly a whisper, “The next real memory I have is from when I was a full score. I went for a walk near the standing stones. It was a place Gav and Alex played when we were children. Sometimes they let me tag along. I sat in the sun and thought about Alexander, and the last time we’d been there. ‘Twas the night he kissed me.
“Then as if my memory conjured a ghost he was there, and he was holding me as though no time at all had passed.”
Randi drew in a sharp breath, but Lissa shook her head. “Nay, Miranda, I know time had passed, we were both older, the trees had grown, it was daylight, the other time was night. There were many differences, except in my heart, and in his. ‘Twas the first time he laid with me, he took my maidenhead that eve, and I thought my heart would burst with love. I thought I lived here and loved him ever since, but now that I listen to your story, I am no longer sure.”
“There are times in my life I simply doona have memories to explain away. I doona remember being aware of these gaps, ‘tis as though ever since my sixteenth birthday I just live in the present. How can that be? How is it I doona have memories and until this moment I didna even notice?”
Her voice was rising, panic filled her eyes, and Randi reached out to her, trying to project some calm assurance into what surely must be a terrifying realization.
“Let’s work together to figure this out. We’ve been on both sides of the experience, we have a lot of time on our hands, let’s look through every part of this castle, see if we can find books or papers or anything that will help us discover what is happening. Maybe we can find a way to save our men, to save ourselves. For if we can change time somehow, we can tell Gabhran, tell Alexander not to take these trips, we can warn them of the danger.”
“Aye, Miranda, I believe I know where many secrets may be hidden.”
****
Alexander began his slow and cautious journey back. He dare not make himself known in this part of England lest he find himself jailed for treason. He had no money, and the clothes he wore were tattered. He kept to himself, not willing to risk his Highland accent in conversation. Rather than wear his Druid spell of invisibility, he walked at night and slept during the day, and stole what he needed to survive. Near the morn of the fourth night, he stumbled upon three men sleeping near a smoky and ember-filled fire pit.
They had obviously set up a small hunting camp and had been there for several days. Long enough to have venison and salmon from the nearby river hanging over the fire, curing them with the smoke. Alexander whispered a sleeping
spell, to ensure they wouldn’t wake while he gathered their supplies.
One of them had a beautiful stallion, massive, nearly twenty hands tall, and ebony from tip to tail. His nostrils flared as he danced at Alexander’s approach. Reaching with his Druid senses, he said, “Easy there, easy lad,” and was rewarded with an answering wave of intelligence.
Putting his hand on the stallion’s neck, he spoke aloud, “Easy boy, you and I will belong to each other now, won’t we lad?” He was not looking for acquiescence or submission; he was looking for the spirit that would tell him they would be partners in their future travels.
With a snort and a toss of his proud head, Alex felt the noble spirit within the handsome beast swell, pleased to be given his due. The horse pranced, waiting impatiently to begin their journey together.
Alex laughed softly, then said, “I am Alexander, although you may call me Alex. I doona suppose you would care to tell me your name?” Spending so much time on his own might not be a good thing if he was resorting to talking to horses. Then a voice in his head very much like his Druid voice said, “Dubh Each,” only it sounded like one word Doo-Eek.
Alexander nearly burst out laughing. “Really? Black Horse? Surely, we can find you something more noble.” He kept his voice low, trying to keep quiet since he had not expended much magick on the sleeping spell. He wanted to be long gone when the men woke and discovered they were missing food, clothing, coin, and their horses. They led the other horses away from the camp and then they were off, already forming a unique bond far beyond a typical horse and rider as they rode.
It was days later, when horse and man reached the Highlands, that Alexander was finally able to relax. Christ, it will be good to be home. The hills were awash in blooming heather, the gentle scent infusing him with passion for his homeland. The skies were of a blue so brilliant, it nigh took his breath away. A pine marten peeked at them as they passed and Alexander called out, “Good morrow,” in greeting. Each minute brought him closer to his beloved home, and he was anxious to get to his keep.