by Jane Stain
There. That was as much as Emily dared do. She hoped it would be enough to tickle Vange’s subconscious in the same way that all of Dall’s authenticity had tickled her own, making her suspect he was a time traveler. She’d thought of writing Vange a note, but she was somehow sure that would be considered ‘discussing time travel’ with her.
Emily put her phone in the kitchen and started the empty dishwasher, and then she and Dall found ways to keep busy in their bedroom while Vange settled down for the night.
Once Emily was sure her friend was asleep and the dishwasher was still making lots of noise, she told Dall what was on her mind. “I think we should go take pictures of Peadar, Peigi, and Domhnall, to mark them as destinations in case they ever get lost.”
Dall hugged her tight. “I do love thee, lass.”
Emily kissed her man’s tears away, then went and got her phone, put on her long plaid skirt outfit in case anyone saw her, set their destination for Home during one of the open green slots available, and held it out where Dall could see it.
“Aye lass, this does look right to me, with the amount I know of it.” He had himself under control now.
Emily didn’t mind in the least seeing him cry about his children. She found it very moving and attractive, actually, that he had a soft spot for the little ones. She knew he was a good father, and she was looking forward to having children with him.
She pushed the button, the world went swirly, and then they were in their attic love nest in the highlands, in the middle of the night. Wincing at the creaking noises, they lowered their stair-hatch. Not hearing anyone stirring, they crept down the hall to the boys’ room.
Emily almost cried herself, the boys all looked so sweet sleeping. Aw, Domhnall was in with the big boys now, no longer in his grandmother’s room. He had a pad on the scrubbed wooden floor, next to Peadar’s bed. An older cousin bunked over Peadar, and there were two more sets of bunks in the room.
Dall kissed both of his snoring sons, and then Emily snapped their pictures. For good measure, she snapped pictures of all the boys.
They repeated this with the girls’ room, kissing Peigi and snapping photos of her and all her cousins. And then they climbed back up into their attic room and pulled up the stairs.
“I’m wide awake,” Emily told Dall. “How about you?”
Dall nodded.
“OK, there are a few things I need to teach you, especially how to drive. Let’s go somewhere and get started on that?”
Looking nervous, but also excited, Dall nodded his head quickly.
They went to her parents’ garage on Thursday, walked out, and rented a car for Dall to learn to drive in. Emily had to learn on a stick shift, but she resisted the urge to foist that on Dall on top of everything else. They also went to the library and used their computers to order ATM cards for Dall. They went ahead and used her parents’ address.
And then they swirled back to their trailer to rest for what remained of Saturday night before Sunday at festival.
Emily could tell that Siobhan was livid all day Sunday, but only toward her and Dall. She kept waiting for the axe to fall, getting more and more nervous the longer it didn’t. Maybe that was Siobhan’s intention. If so, the druid knew what she was doing.
Emily had left her phone in their trailer as she always did, so they could speak freely with their friends with no worries about the druid who was monitoring her phone overhearing. She dressed as a 16th century Scot in her ankle-length plaid skirt and bodice with an embroidered chemise underneath, her boots that were just like Dall’s, and her new leather belt with its scabbards for sword and dagger and its pouches slipped on. Dall wore his kilt, boots, billowy shift, belt, and sporran. They and all the other actors wore hats.
Murray was more than happy to see Dall and Emily Sunday morning. “Yesterday went so well, I’ve decided to give you a cut of all the weapons the customers buy while and right after you give lessons, kids. Like I say, it went well yesterday, but I think we can do even better.”
Dall surprised Emily by taking charge again. “If a cut we are going to have in the take, then it should be a cut of the whole day’s takings.”
Emily admired her husband’s business sense, and she scolded herself for forgetting her man was a leader and quite intelligent. She reminded herself that even though he looked foolish at times, it was because of inexperience with modern amenities. It wasn’t any lack on Dall’s part. She knew she would look just as silly if she’d been raised in his time and come visiting the modern world.
Murray got a twinkle in his eye. Emily knew that meant the man loved to bargain. But Murray hid his joy in the process well other than that twinkle. “How do you figure that?”
“Well,” said Dall, “what sells at a faire … or a festival, is largely because of the feeling of fun, you ken?”
Murray gave Dall an admiring smile. “And you figure you and Emily are adding to that feeling of fun.”
“Aye, and that carries through to the rest of the day and even to the rest of the customers. One smiling face begets another.”
“I won’t argue. You’re right. OK, I’ll look at yesterday’s take as opposed to the take last Saturday, and today’s as opposed to last Sunday, and we’ll work out a percentage, alright?” He held out his hand.
Dall surprised Murray by grasping the muscular man’s forearm instead of his hand, but then Murray grasped Dall’s forearm right back, and they shook on the deal. “Make it a good percentage, and we will keep up the lessons and mayhap even add more,” Dall added into the deal during the shake.
And then Emily and Dall were sparring with rapier and dagger, her most competent sword fighting style that wasn’t anachronistic in this period. They ran all over the arena, swiping and thrusting and blocking and sidestepping, and also jabbing with their daggers.
They put on an even better show than they had the day before, now that there was something to be gained from that, and they drew twice the crowd and almost twice as many lessons.
They didn’t have time to notice how many weapons were selling, but when they finally said they were running off to sit with their friends at ‘Taming of the Shrew’, Murray had a huge grin on his face and the tables were almost empty. They knew he had boxes in his trailer to restock them from, and they figured the take had to be pretty darn big already.
Dall held out his arm, and Emily took it, and they walked alone together to the outdoor stage to meet their friends.
Now that she wasn’t busy brandishing a weapon nor showing someone else how, Emily kept watching for Siobhan’s angry face to pop up amid all the wonders of the festival. This was her perfect opportunity. They were alone.
This site was wooded, and many of the performers climbed up into the trees and hung down to amuse passersby. Most hung on swings, but some were on hammocks and one even hung inside a big cage. Emily was startled several times, but not by Siobhan.
“Hey.” Brittany and Ashley both called out at the same time, waving them over to the straw bale where they had saved two seats.
Safe. Emily smiled, remembering the days when she and Vange would play tag with the kids in the neighborhood. And she enjoyed the stage play more than she had the day before.
“Hi Em.” Vange called out from their picnic table at lunch. Her face was so happy, with none of that sadness Emily had seen … tomorrow. Yeah, that sounded crazy, but she didn’t know how else to think of it.
Emily smiled at her best friend and sat next to her.
The 8 of them were laughing and talking when Siobhan showed up.
Emily braced herself and rehearsed in her head. Siobhan, you’re always telling us to do things with our guildmates. Siobhan, we’re both over 21, so why’s it a problem that we went to a dance club? Siobhan, renfest is supposed to be fun. Why are you trying to make it into a drudgery?
That last argument would only work where the locals would hear and wonder if Siobhan said it was Dall’s duty, but they were here right now.
But Siobhan didn’t give Emily a chance to use any of those arguments. She acted as if nothing was wrong, chatting and laughing along with the rest of them.
But Emily met Siobhan’s eyes a few times, and inside, the older woman was seething with anger.
The afternoon all-guild sword demo, the staged Scots clan meeting, and the ring-out parade all went by in a similar manner to lunch. Siobhan didn’t blow up, but she gave Emily and Dall the evil eye.
And the locals always went home Sunday evening. That particular Sunday was no exception.
“We’ll walk you to your car,” Emily said to Brittany with a smile, falling into step with the five of them and tugging Dall and Vange along by their hands.
Brittany laughed and then smiled sympathetically. “You’re going to have to face her sometime.”
Vange joined in on teasing Emily, but she looked her in the eye and did it in a friendly, questioning way. “Are you really afraid of that woman, Em? She doesn’t seem at all scary to me.” She wanted to be convinced, to hear what awful things Emily knew about Siobhan.
And Emily couldn’t tell her. And it was hard. Until this year when she met Dall, she had always told Vange everything.
Emily acted as if it really wasn’t a big deal. She made a show of fighting a smile that was forming on her face and fell into Dall’s arm as he swung it around her while they walked. “She was pretty obvious at lunch with her Dall-and-me-specific anger, wasn’t she?”
Her acting worked, which pleased her pride, but left her a little lonely. She clung to Dall.
Everyone snorted laughter through their noses and their pursed lips, as if they were fighting the laughter. All too soon, they reached Vange’s car.
While Emily hugged her friend goodbye ‘until next weekend’, she whispered in her ear, “There are things I wish I could tell you, Vange.”
Vange gave Emily a brief startled look as she got in her car, and then she gestured and mouthed “Call me,” before she waved and drove off. As if it were that simple.
And then they were at Brittany’s car, and their five new besties were driving away, calling out cheerfully.
“See you next weekend.”
“If Siobhan doesn’t kill you.”
They were just joking. How could they know that what they had said sometimes seemed like a very real possibility?
Emily turned to Dall. They both took deep breaths and let them out. She said, “Time to face the music.”
Dall laughed.
“What could possibly be funny about that?” Emily asked, dumbfounded.
“‘Face the music’ is what we say at the beginning of a dance, lass. It means giving respect to the players of the music. But I ken well enough the meaning you have with it, and we are in agreement, aye.”
Emily expected Siobhan to be in their trailer waiting for them when they got back to it, but she wasn’t. Was the feisty druid aware of how much anxiety she was causing by delaying her appearance? Best to hope not. She pretended everything was fine and this didn’t bother her while she peeled potatoes for their supper.
Her phone was in her suitcase, under her bed. She wasn’t sure that was enough insulation to keep the druids from spying on the two of them, but it was the best she could do.
“Are you trying to kill the wee vegetable, lass? The cause of my asking being that you have nearly carved it down to naught.” Dall put down the beef he was cubing for their stew and came up behind her and enveloped her in his embrace.
Emily took another deep breath and tried to let her tension out along with it as she relaxed into his comforting arms and answered him in Gaelic. “Ug, she’s getting to me. I’m a nervous wreck. I wish she would just come chew us out, already.”
Dall started rubbing her shoulders.
She groaned. His massage hurt, she was so tense, but in a good way. “It’s hard to face the music when the players won’t play any.”
More slowly than was strictly necessary, they got back to getting the stew ingredients into the crockpot. And then they broke out a bottle of wine to enjoy while it cooked.
Feeling a little smug in their new abilities, they swirled the crockpot full of stew ingredients over to her parents’ house at nine am on Wednesday and plugged it in. When they were done with their wine, they swirled back over at 4 pm on Wednesday to get their cooked stew. It smelled wonderful. It tasted good, too.
The wine was helping.
Emily didn’t feel so anxious. “C’mon over, Siobhan.” she said right into her phone where she knew a druid was always listening. They’d gotten it out to set the alarm for sparring the next morning. “Let’s have a little talk.” That was what she meant to say, but it came out a little funny. She tried to put the phone back into the pocket of her PJs, but Dall took it and walked away. She lounged on the couch. It was nice.
And then Dall was picking her up and carrying her, which made Emily feel dizzy. But he was warm and comforting, and she snuggled up next to him in their bed and the next thing she knew, it was morning.
The alarm on Emily’s phone was loud.
She fumbled on the nightstand until she grabbed it and stopped it. At 5:01 am. “Why did we set that, again?” she said, closing her eyes and snuggling back up to Dall.
He gently sat up with her and then stood with her, holding up her mostly sleeping form. “So that we can be at the arena at sunrise, to spar with the others, lass.”
“Urrg.” Emily found that she could open her eyes, now that she had a reason. And Dall wasn’t in the bed to snuggle with
But the sandman had liberally sprinkled her eyes, making them want to close.
Leaving her phone on the nightstand, she went into their little trailer bathroom and washed the sand out, went to their little trailer closet and got dressed, and then tucked herself under her kilted and wide awake husband’s arm.
Dall already had their practice swords in his other hand, and his real claymore was strapped to his back. “This may prove to be one of our more interesting mornings, Drusilla,” he said in Gaelic.
She answered him in Gaelic. “Yeah, she’s bound to be there.” Emily was once again nervous about facing Siobhan’s anger, but she was resolved that it needed to be done.
“Aye, there is that,” Dall said as if Siobhan’s anger hadn’t occurred to him.
His confidence tried to put Emily off, but she chose to be attracted to it and hugged him tighter to her.
He caressed her back, and then he puzzled her. “However, we also need to be back inside the trailer before it is 8 of the clock.”
Emily had to think about that for a moment before his meaning dawned on her. “Oh, right. We were at the club at 8 this morning. OK, that sounded weird, but yeah. I wonder what will happen to us here at 8?”
“I do not know, but I say we had best be in the trailer when we find it out, lass.”
They had arrived at the arena, where all of their sparring partners were eating donuts and drinking coffee. Dall and Emily got themselves some of each and watched a few sparring matches, and then they each sparred a few times. They went one at a time so Lews couldn’t pull a stunt like he had that once. He still scowled at Emily whenever she looked at him, which was less and less often.
Everyone else except Siobhan seemed OK with them, even Eamann. It was confusing. Siobhan and Eamann talked quietly in the corner for a few minutes, and then the confrontation with Siobhan happened, but in a much different way than Emily expected.
Siobhan finished her donut, put her coffee down, and walked over to Emily in a businesslike manner, holding out her hand. “Emily, you and I are going to practice our stage brawling.” There was no hint of anger in her eye now. She seemed warm, but not quite friendly. More like … motherly?
Dall squeezed Emily’s shoulder, which let her know he would be watching and would move in at the first sign of actual fighting, should that occur.
She felt herself smiling. Siobhan might be tough in the business sense, but surely the modern druid realized she was no match
for Dall in the arena, and that he had Emily’s back. She forgot that druids have magic.
Emily turned her smile toward Siobhan, took the offered hand, and let the other woman help her up. “OK.”
Once they were in the arena, Siobhan started their conversation softly, so that only Emily could hear. “We’re all very interested to see that you aren’t pregnant yet.” She also started their stage brawl, by putting her hands on Emily’s shoulders in position for a shove.
Emily followed stage brawling protocol: she grabbed Siobhan’s wrists and pushed off of them, making it look as though the other woman had pushed her. “Uh, that came out of nowhere. Who is we, and how do you know?” Emily staggered backward to make the staged push look like it had been a forceful one.
Siobhan pressed her imaginary advantage in the brawl by rushing toward Emily and positioning for another push while Emily was off balance. “We druids can sense these things that involve the life force. I can also tell you aren’t on the pill and haven’t had any birth-control shots. No IUD, either.”
Emily grabbed the druid’s wrists again, this time using them to lower herself to the ground while appearing to be pushed. “We could be using condoms.”
“Those would require Dall’s cooperation, and being Catholic, he wouldn’t do that.” Siobhan performed a stage kick at Emily’s mid-section, pulling her leg back dramatically so that Emily would know the target and then kicking quickly, just short of her target.
Thanking her luck that she wouldn’t have to say anything, Emily faked a painful moan about the kick, meanwhile reaching out and grabbing the leg that Siobhan was balancing on and faking a tug by bending her elbows out dramatically.
Siobhan faked a teeter, swinging her arms and her other leg around as if trying to keep her balance. “It’s as if you had never started your period, which I also know isn’t the case.”
Everyone in the gazebo was laughing, amused by Siobhan’s comical movements. Except Dall.