by Ju Ephraime
* * * *
Alasdair had still been fuming as he went into the stables to take care of his and Coira’s horses before returning to the hall. He was not available to marry any woman, let alone one from the future.
He was attracted to the lass, he recognized that, but with the geas on him, he didn’t have the luxury of leading a normal life like other men. His was an immortal life. His spirit had been wandering the world for centuries, and he did not want to continue in that form, which was why he did not want a wife. He would be standing by helplessly while he watched her pass away.
He did not want to bring sons into this world, only to have to bury them while he continued with his lonely life.
He had to explain this to Coira, who was an innocent pawn in all this. His mither was too fond of the magic. Speaking of magic, this had to be kept away from the Templars; they did not take too kindly to Druid magic, and should they get wind that he was the product of magic, they would lose all respect for him. A leader had to have the respect of his men. That was why he had sent only his most trusted advisers to the MacDougalls to find out if they were connected with Coira’s presence at his keep.
Magic was the last thing he expected, and from his own parent, no less. Knowing the power of the geas and how he came to be here at this point in time, he realized he was picking up from where his life had left off. What he’d found confusing was the way no one questioned his sudden arrival. He was beginning to suspect they had all been frozen in time too? Would he wake one day and find this all gone… disappeared into thin air?
He couldn’t figure out how his mither had done it. Se must have used powerful magic to accomplish this. This could explain why she was not here. Such a powerful geas would have most certainly demanded her life in exchange. He didn’t think his life was worth it, but his mither believed in the magic of the geas. He would make the most of whatever time he had here so her sacrifice would not be in vain.
He had to go check on Coira. He didn’t have a way of returning her to her time. He would consult the crystal to see if he could learn anything. Alasdair was not good at using magic, though not because he did not believe in it. No, it was real all right. He had seen it go wrong many times when used incorrectly. Hence the reason he had always left it to the experts, like his mither, who swore by it.
He hated that he had to take Coira away in the dead of night. He had no choice; it was either that or risks the clans finding her. The sadness on her face had become more pronounced the farther they rode from his keep. He’d watched her shoulders droop lower and lower as they traveled.
The riding was hard on the men who were used to it; for a woman who had a hard enough time remaining in the saddle, it must have been brutal. He hoped she had recovered after sleeping away an entire day and night. Alasdair had to admit he missed her. He enjoyed sparring with her in words. He enjoyed being around her, even when they weren’t exchanging words. He found her company invigorating and exciting, especially when he thought of her long legs wrapped around his waist. It was enough to make him want to rip his plaid off and ease his frustration between her thighs.
CHAPTER NINE
After she was done with her breakfast, Coira was surprised to find her door unlocked. No doubt, Alasdair knew there was no danger of her escaping. After all, where would she escape to? Beautiful as this part of the country was, it was days away from her original port of entry into this time period. Also, there were soldiers and guards all over the place. She could see them walking the parapet out of the two windows in her room.
They seemed far enough away, and since her door was unlocked, she decided to take advantage of it and go exploring. She was able to make it all the way downstairs and into the courtyard before she heard a growl and her hand was grabbed from behind.
“Where do ye think yer going?”
Of course, it was Alasdair. He must have been on the lookout for her. Or was that his plan all along, to leave her door unlocked to lure her out and then accuse her of trying to escape? Regardless, she wouldn’t let him intimidate her.
“Where do you think I’m going?” she answered, shaking her hand free.
He didn’t answer her but fell into step beside her as she continued walking. She walked away from the building to get a better view of the estate. There were knights all around them, tending to their horses, laughing and joking with each other, the din so loud it was impossible to hear herself think. They didn’t pay her and Alasdair any attention, so they continued walking like lovers taking a walk.
The grounds were frozen and hard, with tall evergreen trees on either side of the building. The castle was nestled against the backdrop of the mountain with its front facing the valley, set in a glorious landscape beside a loch. There were two round towers on either side, with a third one off to the right. Bridges connected those in the back to the ones in the front.
The main building of the castle had two-level stories with a smaller center building on the top sitting like a crown and two small structures resembling wings on either side. The valley extended as far as the eye could see, and there didn’t appear to be any access to the building from the back. It was situated to be well defended against any approaching enemy. Whoever chose the location had chosen well.
They were a good way from the main building before finally he spoke. “I ask ye again, where do ye think yer going?”
She had ignored him the first time, now she supposed she had to answer him, if only to maintain peace. His accent was now almost as pronounced as Tris’s; he must be stressed.
“To look at the grounds,” she replied.
“Dinna be thinking of trying to escape. ’Tis nigh impossible here.”
“I figured that’s why you brought me here, to make it impossible for me to escape. You’ve disrupted my life, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.”
“Watch yer mouth, lass. I know ye are upset, but there is nae need for this.” He took her hand again. “Come,” he said, very quietly.
She looked at him sharply. She expected to see the same anger that had marred his face the entire five days of traveling, but it was gone. Coira couldn’t place the emotion on his face. If she had to take a guess, she’d say it looked almost like sad regret. She didn’t know what he had to be regretful about. He was not the one displaced from his home; she was. Yet, she felt an overwhelming desire to comfort him, to ask what caused the look on his face.
She had to, once again, remind herself that she was the one wronged here, and this Laird certainly didn’t need her feeling sorry for him.
He took her through a door in a wall. It was tall and cathedral shaped and appeared to be part of a wing of the castle. He was stopped several times by one worker or another. He answered them in a quiet tone and addressed every one of them by name. This was a man on top of his game, and she was impressed.
It appeared they had made a circle because they were back to the main part of the building. Coira knew from the appearance of the building on the outside that the interior had to be equally impressive, but nothing in her wildest imagination had prepared her for the sight that met her eyes. This was opulence at its finest. The great hall was huge, with ceilings reaching to the sky. There were several open fireplaces so the room was warm and toasty. The walls were covered in beautiful art, and fine furniture graced the large room. Beautifully designed tapestries with the dominant colors of the clan, dark blue, black, and green, hung on the walls. The same colors were used for seat cushions and chair backings on the dozens of strange-looking chairs around a beautifully carved oak table. This table could easily sit fifty people or more.
The floor was covered with gray stonework, which was similar to what made up the interior walls. The windows were more like massive cathedral doors, which let in lots of light, giving the place a light, cheery atmosphere. They must be close to the ocean because she could smell the salty air of the sea. She made a note to ask Imogene about it when she returned to her room.
“What has ye i
n awe?”
“The unexpected appearance of the place. Although small for a castle, it’s very well designed and managed. Who built it?”
“Inveraray Castle was built by Sir Duncan Campbell and neighboring fishermen with plenty of fish and herrings, which was a financial boon for the Campbells.”
“That’s awesome. Who takes care of it when you are away fighting your numerous battles?”
“We have several housekeepers, a head cook, several maids and scullery maids to keep things running smoothly.”
“This takes a lot of organizing. Did you ever have a wife managing things?”
“Nay, I never had a wife,” he said stiffly. “Do ye like the place?”
“I think it’s beautiful.” She smiled.
He gave her an answering smile. “Come, they have prepared some refreshment for us in the hall.”
“After the huge breakfast I just had, I’m not ready for anything else.”
“Just have some tea and biscuits. I need to talk with ye.”
“Oh, okay,” she agreed. “What harm can a biscuit or two do?”
“Good,” he said. “I can understand yer surprise at the preparedness of the place. Had I arrived here unannounced, only one or two wings of the building would have been occupied. They were expecting me and my betrothed, so they went the extra mile to make the place ready. Do not mistake that for my doing. I could not tell them ye were not to be my wife without giving an explanation for yer presence. So, I let them think ye are to be my wife, but I have no intention of marrying ye.”
“I never asked you to,” Coira told him with a forced smile. “Marrying you was the furthest thought from my mind, Laird. My only concern is getting home to my life in America.”
“Are ye still fretting about returning to America?”
“Yes, I’m still hoping to get back home if that’s what you mean. I believe, if I was able to be transported here, then I should be able to be transported back, just as easily.”
“Is that what ye think? Seeing as I don’t have the answer, I will not disabuse you of your belief.”
“You may think me silly, Laird, but you’ll soon find I don’t give up easily. And while we’re at it, who told your staff I’m to be your wife?”
“I do not know. I told ye someone told them and I went along with it. It was better that than believing ye are a spy, as I did when I first saw ye in my keep. If they were to think ye a spy, there would be no place for ye to hide from them. Even I would not be able to keep ye safe.”
“What made you change your mind about me being a spy?”
“The information Tristan got from the clans and then it all began to make sense. Ye got caught up in a clan’s feud that had naught whatsoever to do with ye.”
Coira averted her face with a sniff. “I certainly have no desire to marry you. You, your clan, same thing to me. What happened to me was done by all of you.”
Alasdair studied her through narrowed eyes, and then, lowering his head, he brought his face menacingly close to hers. “Perhaps I will marry ye, lass, if for nothing other than to have ye obey me. Do ye know a wife must obey her husband in all things?”
“You’d wish,” she told him. “Don’t forget I’m not from your time. Neither am I from the Highlands, so your laws don’t apply to me.”
“I hate to have to disabuse ye of this notion, but so long as ye’re in my sphere, ye fall under my jurisdiction, and as a result, ye will listen and do what I ask. We are preparing for war with England, lass, and who is marrying whom will soon be irrelevant.”
“Why are you going back to war with England? I thought you, not too long ago, came out of a war.”
“We did, but this time, the Bruce wants England to recognize us as a sovereign state, so war it will be because they’re hovering too much over us. We Campbells ride with the Bruce. His war is our war. So, make hay while the sun shines.”
Hearing him put the prospect of war so succinctly, Coira felt sad for him and the people of Scotland, especially knowing, even if they got their independence from England, it would not be for long. This victory they won was all they would get. She couldn’t stop herself from placing her hand on his impressive forearm, plagued by curiosity, her anger briefly forgotten.
“Aren’t you weary of war?” she asked.
“I am not weary of war, Lass,” he told her. “I live for it. I thrive on it. Take the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. This was an especially important victory for the Scots.”
“I hate to ask, but I feel I must. What happened?”
“On the twenty-third and twenty-fourth of June, 1314, Robert the Bruce faced King Edward II at Bannockburn near Stirling. The Scots army was outnumbered almost three to one. Edward had more than 2000 battle-hardened knights to Bruce’s 500 horsemen. In terms of foot soldiers, Bruce had a mere 6000 facing Edward’s 16,000 infantry. It was the second time that an English king had led his army in battle against Scotland. The battle of Falkirk, the first Scottish War for independence, which took place in 1298, was the first. In that battle, we were defeated.”
“The way you seem to like everything to do with war that must have been a great disappointment for you.”
“I do not like war, but I don’t shy away from it. So aye, it was a great disappointment, not just for me, for all Scots.
“The Scots are a proud people, you all must have taken it very hard.”
“We did, that was why with the battle at Bannockburn the Bruce chose the location of the fighting with great care. He used the natural terrain to counter the threat of Edward’s heavy cavalry. We dug small pit traps or pots to defend our flanks and force the English to fight us head-on. During the campaign for our independence, the Bruce had lost everything, yet he never stopped campaigning to win the crown and free our land. Now, finally, we were face to with the English king.”
“Wow, that must have been some undertaking.”
“It was. The Bruce was like someone driven. The first day of the battle was a Sunday, and we heard mass before taking up arms. He had us form three massive schiltrons, and we were to hold the ground at New Park. Bruce was mounted on a small palfrey, armed with only a battle-axe, when Henry de Bohun saw him and turned his war horse to charge. De Bohun thundered across the field, leveling his lance at Bruce. The Bruce stood his ground and waited till the English knight was almost upon him then stood up in his stirrups and brought his battle-axe crashing down on Henry, splitting his helm and his skull in two.”
“My God, that was something.”
“It was, but the Bruce was not done yet. The next morning we rose and prepared for battle. It was Midsummer Day. Even though the numbers of the massed ranks of English Knights, infantry, and Welsh longbow men were greater than our forces, they were at a disadvantage. When the English Knights saw us advancing upon them from all sides, they began struggling to escape back across the river. We didn’t relent, we kept advancing and chaos ensued among the English. Fallen men were trampled underfoot, as we pushed Edward’s army back to the steep-sided Bannockburn until the river was filled with bodies and the water ran red with blood.
“My, this must have been something to behold.”
“Ave, but I don’t think yer would have liked being there.”
“You never know. I found it interesting the way you described it.”
“I am just a good story teller.”
“Well, go on then, finish the story.”
“If ye insist. The battle was won, and Robert the Bruce became King of Scotland in the eyes of most Scots, but he still lacked English and papal recognitions of Scotland's independence and his own kingship. After his victory at Bannockburn, the Bruce was able to negotiate the freedom of his wife Elizabeth, daughter, Marjory, and sister, Mary.”
“After all this, here you are, looking forward to going back into battle.”
“As I told ye, fighting does not bother me, so long as I’m fighting for Scotland. ’Tis the men with their families who worry me. Why the sudden interest in me
, anyway?” he asked, giving her one of his rare smiles. She’d seen him bestow them on Tristan and Garvin, never on her.
Alasdair continued looking at her quizzically, his flashing blue eyes on her hand, which was still on his bicep.
“Have you ever considered taking a wife? I’m sure there are lots of women falling at your feet.”
“That ye will never know, now will ye?”
She thought it best to change the topic because, for some strange reason, the prospect of him with a woman didn’t appeal to her.
“Do you have any other brothers and sisters? I know Gertrude said you lost one sister. Do you have others?”
“I do have two brothers, Tris and Garvin. I find obsessive interest in my life very suspect. I brought ye in here to discuss how we could best work at making my clan believe we’ll soon be wed, to make them more accepting of ye, so long as ye are here.”
“What do you mean, ‘so long as I’m here’? Are you trying to figure out a way to send me back?”
“Ye are not happy here, and I don’t like being the cause of your unhappiness, so I am looking for a solution. I don’t know if I will find one, but I am looking.”
“That’s encouraging to know.” Although she couldn’t explain the sadness she felt. Whether it was at the prospect of returning to her time or something else, Coira didn’t examine the feeling too closely.
His eyes narrowed at her. “Lass, if ye would like to turn yer mind to figuring something out, then figure out a way out of this betrothal; otherwise, we are to be married in two sundowns.”
“I’ve already told you I won’t marry you, so you don’t have to be so angry about it. My life in America does not have room for a husband, let alone one who looks like you. You’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”