Warrior of My Own

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Warrior of My Own Page 6

by Knightley, Diana


  “He’s going to be living in 1702. I don’t think some vitamins are going to hurt him!”

  Magnus shrugged, “If I get used tae eatin’ the magic pills what about when I daena have the magic pills?”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake.” I slammed the drawer shut and looked around the room. There wasn’t anything left to take and the bag was stuffed already. “They aren’t magic,”

  Magnus said, “If it upsets ye, I’ll take the magic pills.”

  “No, it doesn’t upset me, I just want...” Tears welled up and I gulped them down. “I just want one freaking thing that I’m in control of. For the next week my life is going to be dangerous and confusing, and I’d like one thing that people do just because I say so. One less fucking thing that I don’t have to worry about.”

  Magnus pulled the two pills into his palm put them on his tongue and swallowed them down. Zach held out his hand and Emma poured in two pills and he swallowed them down.

  Quentin said, “All right, me too.” And took two vitamins as well.

  “Thanks everyone, sorry about that. I’m going to go get dressed.”

  Chapter 15

  Magnus appeared to help with my dress. I was wearing silk long underwear. It hadn’t been easy to find them in June in Florida but they were on my body. We had stretched the shoulders and cut the neck so it could be tucked inside the neckline of my bodice.

  My giant wool dress still smelled a little swampy after my swim months ago.

  Emma stuck her head in the room and I asked her to crank the AC up. It was blazing hot.

  I watched my husband as he prepared to don his traditional kilt. A ritual that involved laying out the fabric, pleating it down the middle, weaving through a belt, laying across it, then cinching it all around. When he stood, he was wearing his skirt. It was time-consuming but at least he could do it himself.

  I, on the other hand, needed someone to cinch my waist for me. But I wasn’t complaining. There was something pretty romantic about my Magnus with his powerful hands, tugging at my laces, delicately pulling on my middle, breathing softly in concentration.

  It was the opposite of the sexy taking-off of clothes.

  Putting-on was committed, loving.

  Just as I thought it, he leaned down and kissed me right on my cleavage. Oh hell yeah, sexy again.

  “You are nervous?”

  “Yes. Not happy at all about the mode of travel, the destination, the reason it’s necessary—”

  “Are ye havin’ second thoughts?”

  I adjusted the front of his kilt and tucked the long sides in at his waist the way he liked it. “No. I love my traveling companion, so none of the rest of it matters.”

  He rested his hands on my waist. I put my hands on his. “We just have tae rescue Sean. Then we will come back. After that we’ll make decisions about Lady Mairead and the other time vessels together.”

  “I agree. And we should do this fast because I don’t want to over-think it. Plus it is hot as hell in these clothes.”

  * * *

  Quentin was driving us to the south end of the island. It was private there; we were less likely to be noticed. Magnus and I rode in the back seat, the roof up, the AC blasting. His sword across his knees, my backpack on my lap. Now and then I unzipped it to check if something was actually there. It all was. Every single thing I thought of in the past few hours, that I had room for, was in there.

  I was especially proud of my new solar powered flashlight. The solar panel could also charge my phone, which I brought so I could take photos. What the hell would happen if I had photos of the 1700s? I didn’t know. Zach and I speculated last night that it might create a space-time rift through the universe, but he had been a little high at the time and ultimately that was ridiculous. I was taking photos. I probably wouldn’t bring on the end of the world. Probably.

  Quentin pulled the Mustang over to the shoulder, half in sand. And came around to open the door for us and help with our bags. He didn’t need to; we were packed very lightly considering the distance. “Boss man, see ya soon. Next time I wanna go.”

  “Och aye, ye would find it a great place Master Quentin, full of bonnie lasses and ancient armaments but for now I need ye tae guard the house.”

  “I will sir Boss. You can count on me.”

  I said, “And take care of the apartments. That new couple wants to move in. Their deposit is—”

  “I got it Boss lady, no worries.”

  Sweat dripped down my forehead already. “And go to your meetings. Work your program. If you need someone to go with you, Micheal will. Zach will. Emma will. Meet your probation officer. You hear me?”

  He nodded with a sheepish grin.

  “Okay then.”

  Magnus and I walked a little away from the car over a small dune to a stretch of beach that was private and nice.

  We stopped and faced each other. We both had dribbles of sweat from our temples, beads on our upper lips. “It’s not the vitamins that will make you soft, it’s the air conditioning.”

  “Och aye, tis sweltering out here.” He adjusted the straps on my backpack. Then took the time travel vessel from his sporran.

  I gulped. This was real. I was doing this with foresight and decision. Was I freaking crazy? He took my hand. Facing each other, we huddled close. He held the vessel between us and twisted the dial while I held his forearm. It hummed to life. The markings glowed. He dialed the ends so the markings aligned. “Hold tight,” he said and then he began to say numbers. “One naught eight three, twelve—”

  “No no no nooononononono no, oh no,” I dropped his hands and stepped away, “No no no, oh god, no, phew, whoa,” I shook my hands out and clutched my diaphragm, taking a deep ragged breath. “Oh shit, oh no, I can’t oh no no no—”

  I bent over and tried to catch my breath. He might leave. He might leave without me while I acted like a chickenshit. “Don’t go Magnus, don’t you dare go, just—” I stood and pulled at the front of my bodice. “I just need a mo—”

  “Are you okay?” His voice was quiet and rumbling and comforting and...

  “Yeah, it just — I’ve never been good at jumping. If I think on it too long, I can’t. Why’s it so freaking hot?” I swiped at the sweat on my forehead. “Okay, I can do this. Let’s do this. Can we sit?”

  Quentin called from the car, “Everything cool?”

  “Yeah, I’m just taking a moment.”

  Magnus sat down on the beach, crisscrossed legs. I sat right in front of him, knee to knee. We bowed our heads over the vessel and he twisted the dial again. It hummed and glowed. I wrapped my hands around his and closed my eyes.

  He said “one naught eight—”

  I scrambled away. “No no no, oh no no no, okay, wait, please wait. I’m still... It hurts. I’m just — I’m having trouble with the — it hurts.”

  “You canna go.”

  “I can. I can go, I can. I can do this. I can do it.”

  “If you canna, I will come back.”

  “No, you can’t leave me Magnus, you can’t. Don’t you dare. I’m just getting my courage up. I can do this. I can do anything I set my freaking mind to. Did I start a YouTube channel? I did. Did I clunk the candlestick up against that Lord Shifty-eye’s head? I did. Did I run in the middle of the night through a 18th century forest? That was me. I did that.” While I recounted my heroism I crawled onto my husband’s lap. I pulled up my skirts that were covered in sand and wrapped my legs around his waist. My arms under his, my hands laced around his back, I tucked my head into his chest like a monkey. Not quite heroic looking, but it was the only way I was going to go.

  “Who jumped off her grandparents’s dock the last day of vacation because she was too scared to do it the first day and sat around wishing she was brave enough and then finally she was brave enough? Me, that’s who. I can do this.” I spoke into his shirt. “I can do it.”

  I felt the vessel come to life resting between his hands against my lower back.

 
“Before you say the numbers say something romantic.” I was leaving a sweat spot on his chest.

  He said low and deep and only for me, “Tha gaol agam ort, mo reul-iuil is ann leatsa abhios mo chridhe gubrath. One naught three—” and I was ripped screaming from my time to his.

  Chapter 16

  I woke as if from a nightmare, heart racing, shocked, adrenaline coursing, everything hurt, writhing pain and no solace. I was in wet mossy dirt, leaves, sticks. The muck and mire of Scotland I hoped because I would just live here now forever. Because that jumping shit sucked hard.

  Beside me, “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.” There must be something or somebody. I looked at Magnus’s face. His eyes were clamped shut. His body wrenched in pain. His jaw clamped shut, “Shhhhhhhhhh.” He wasn’t shushing me. He was shushing his body’s anguish.

  I remembered the time his heart stopped and panic hit me in the stomach. I wiggled closer and kissed his nose and forced the word, “Okay?”

  He nodded, “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” And that’s all I knew for a while.

  The next time I came to, Magnus was sitting up his hand on my hip guarding me while I lay unconscious. I forced myself out of my stupor and rose. The pain was still excruciating but I was on top of it. The air was freezing. I put my head on Magnus’s shoulder. He pulled a twig from my hair.

  “We did it?”

  “Aye, we are an easy walk from Balloch.”

  “So what is our plan? I haven’t been able to think about anything past the trip.”

  “We will spend the night at the castle. At dinner I will raise an army and tomorrow you and I will go to Talsworth Castle. We will rescue Sean and my army of cousins will cover our escape.”

  “There’s a lot of unplanned stuff in there, huh?”

  “Aye, we must figure it out as we go.”

  “Okay, we can do that. We’re smart. We’re brave. We just kicked the ass of time-traveling, three hundred years, like that.” I snapped my fingers, and Magnus and I both groaned.

  Chapter 17

  The dining hall was much more crowded than last time I had been there. Many more men, and many more women. It seemed like a celebration of some kind or a gathering. People sat in every chair down the table and stood in groups around the rest of the room. Smaller tables were set up in two corners and they were crowded around too.

  Music lilted faintly from the minstrel playing in the corner. I could barely hear it over my own breathing and heartbeat pounding loud in my ears. We approached the head of the table and I was reintroduced to the Earl and then introduced to Magnus’s uncle, Baldie. He was big, gregarious, had a warm smile and welcomed us profusely.

  He asked, “And where is Ewan and Sean?”

  Magnus bid me go sit at the other end of the table, the one empty chair, so he could speak with the Earl and his uncle in private.

  So I found myself alone in a Great Hall in 1702. My sight was faint. The room dark and crowded. The noise a mumble but also loud like a roar.

  The woman to my left vacated her chair. The woman to my right turned away from me. Bored, I lifted the tablecloth. The table was a thick wood, heavy. My chair, thick wood heavy. I had an empty chair beside me and no one seemed inclined to speak to me — which was fine. I could watch. I argued in my head about whether I could pull out my phone and take a photo of the room without anyone noticing. Suddenly a plate was placed in front of me. I smiled at the young woman before she bustled away forgetting to give me a drink.

  My plate contained a mystery meat and something resembling pudding. Grey.

  The only thing that would make this palatable would be beer or wine.

  I looked down the table at Magnus, fifteen feet away, separated by conversations, people, empty spaces, noise, a cacophony of sights and sounds. He had a plate in front of him, three men around him deep in conversation. He glanced down the table at me and gestured toward someone behind me. Within a moment a small glass of beer appeared beside my plate.

  I watched him at the far end of the room. Earnest and powerful. He was one of the largest men there and also the most handsome. Commanding. He was giving the other men the bad news: Ewan had been killed. Sean was in prison.

  I watched as the news filtered through the crowd, person to person. Men stood and approached the end of the table to listen and question. Occasionally people looked down at me as they discussed the news causing me to blush uncomfortably.

  Yes, I was responsible.

  Yes, I got Ewan killed.

  Sean was imprisoned because of me.

  I hadn’t even thought about how that whole sordid story would seem to his family. My ears rang from the loudness of my internal noises drowning out all other noise. Soon the conversation seemed to turned to strategizing. Voices were raised. Fists were slammed on the table.

  My food was rubbery though necessary. I had a stack of protein bars but I was saving them for when we wouldn’t have castle food to eat. I was thirsty for water but I left my backpack in our room. Breaking out the bottle would attract attention, anyway.

  Magnus rose with three other men. They crossed the room to sit and converse at a table in the far corner. He had warned me that this would take a long time. That it would be boring and I would need to stay out of the conversation. My presence would complicate it too much. When we left Balloch for Talsworth everyone knew Magnus wanted Ewan dead and now he was. We had no proof that Magnus hadn’t done the deed.

  There would be some who wouldn’t trust him. He wanted the men to fight alongside him because they chose to, instead of being ordered to fight by the Earl. If they were fighting under orders, he would always need to watch his back.

  I watched him as he spoke, his jaw set, his demeanor focused. His broad shoulders stretched his shirt. His bicep rounded as he lifted his beer to his lips. His back was to me so it was hard to guess what he was saying. He gulped and swiped at his mouth with his arm mimicking the manners of the surrounding men. I watched other groups too. The young women eating together at the end of the table. Their dresses were much nicer than my own. One woman had a baby with her and it made me wonder what Emma was doing and how Ben was; how much time had passed? Here it had only been a couple of days since Ewan had died.

  In Florida, months had passed. This was something we needed to figure out, losing all of this time sucked.

  Magnus’s important conversation seemed to end because the intense expressions were replaced with laughs, more beer was delivered to their table. A woman approached and stood beside them joining their discussion and their laughter. Could I go over too? Should I? Magnus didn’t look over, so I sat and waited for him to retrieve me.

  I was wearing a pretend sporran, leather, sort of like a fanny pack. We belted it around my hips using hidden zip-ties to make it hang the right way. I unsnapped its top and looked inside, flashlight, Burt’s Bees lip balm, phone —

  Three young women approached Magnus and one of them put her hand on his shoulder and laughed loudly. She said something close to his ear and then nudged his arm with her hip. My heart raced. Okay, I would go over there. But that felt desperate. I would just not notice, sit here, and pretend like my husband wasn’t flirting across the room with a woman much closer to his age. Since I was like 330 years old.

  Tears welled up. I was all alone and—

  A female voice close to my ear said, “That one is Middy. Ye needs be watchin’ her with young Magnus.”

  “Huh, what?” I turned to a woman not much older than myself standing behind my chair.

  “I could see ye noticin’, just keep him close is all I’m a sayin’. Middy has been wantin’ him since she was a wee bairn. She inna keen on lettin’ his marriage stand in her way. I figure she thinks that a wife from far away, as ye are, is nae troublin’ to her aims at all. So keep an eye on her.” She beamed down at me with her brows raised. “I’m your sister, by the way, Lizbeth. I heard ye had trouble with Ewan?”

  “I did, he is um, passed away, while at Talsworth.”

  “Och aye, me mu
m in her murderous castle has done tae death my cousin. Sounds about the way it goes, but I meant before ye left. Ewan had his way on ye and my brother had tae beat him near tae death?”

  “True that all happened.” I shuddered a bit. “And it wasn’t really your mom, but her husband that killed him.”

  She shook her hand, dismissing the exception. “We needs nae speak of that, my mum has made her choices. Tis a hard welcome to your new home I should think. We arena all villainous. That chap over there is downright saintly.” She pointed toward one young man who seemed about the age of fourteen and was quietly eating by himself.

  I laughed.

  She laughed and dropped into the empty chair beside me. “Thy name is Kaitlyn?”

  “Yes.”

  “My brother Sean is still a guest at Talsworth I hear. I wanted tae ask ye, Kaitlyn, if ye think he be alive still?”

  “I do, Magnus and I are going to go get him out tomorrow.”

  “Aye. You have a plan then?”

  “We have a key to the door that’s pretty much it.”

  “Men always want tae storm the walls, but if I were ye I would go in through the kitchen garden like a fly, buzz around ‘em until they canna understand your purpose, and then dash tae the prison. Always go in at the kitchen.”

  “That’s exactly how I escaped. I ran through the kitchen, buzzing like a bee.”

  She laughed, “We think like sisters already.” She gestured for another beer for us both, then looked over at Magnus. “Middy has her hand on his shoulder.”

  “Should I draw a knife on her?”

  “Tis too crass. You are his wife. She thinks ye may be a wife of convenience, nae worthy of her consideration so she is flirting with him. He daena notice much because his focus is elsewhere, on the men, on his purpose.” Our glasses were delivered.

  I watched a strange woman’s hand rub on my husband’s shoulder right where it stretched against the linen of his sleeve and kind of thought I might throw up. Middy laughed and leaned in closer toward him.

 

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