Shared by the Highlanders

by Ashe Barker

  “But, it’s too fine. And if it’s one of your best ones… Really, I’m happy with something more plain.”

  Elspeth shakes her head firmly. “No. I want you to have this. I insist. Please take great care of it, and when you wear it think of me. And of my dear bairn, whose life you saved. It is little enough by way of payment, but I trust it will suffice.”

  I would have protested more, but she gives me no opportunity and returns to the nursery where her youngest child is tucked up in bed and sipping some sort of egg and milk concoction guaranteed to restore his constitution to its former robust state. I suspect that will not prove difficult to achieve.

  I sit up when the door opens, and both Will and Robbie enter. Will has also benefited from a hot bath and is decked out in fresh clothing. Apart from that though they both wear sombre expressions.

  “We need to be moving. Now.” Robbie offers his hand to assist me to my feet.

  “Now? But why? I know you have business in Stirling but Elspeth won’t mind us staying another day or so.”

  “There’s a mob gathering at the gate.”

  “A mob? Why? What’s happened?”

  “That fool Drummond went rushing off down to the kirk in Blair village spouting about unholy powers, sorcery, witchcraft, immodest behaviour, and the like. The villagers are demanding that the witch be put on trial.”

  I feel the blood drain from my face. “Me? They mean me?”

  “Aye, lass, they mean you. So we need to be making ourselves scarce. We have horses already loaded with our belongings and waiting for us at the back of the stables, including a good, swift one for you. We must make all speed, put some distance between ourselves and the events of today.”

  “It wasn’t witchcraft or magic. It was just plain old medical science. Not even that really, I just performed CPR. And what do they mean by immodest?”

  “It seems Mr. Drummond was somewhat shocked by your state of undress when you dived into the loch. The man’s a halfwit, but the damage is done. We don’t know what it was you did to revive wee Iain, but we do know you’re no sorceress. A witch trial never ends well though and we need to avoid that at all costs. So we’re leaving. Now.”

  “Oh, God. I can’t believe this.” I’m shaking, my head suddenly overflowing with images of being tied to a chair and drowned in the village pond, or even burnt at the stake. “I never thought, never imagined… “

  The door bursts open to admit Elspeth, looking distinctly ruffled. “You must flee. There’s a mob of thirty outside and more coming up the valley from over the burn. Quickly, this way.” She beckons us to follow her.

  We take no persuading. The four of us dash along the upper corridor of her home. Elspeth leads us down a back stairway and out of a small door leading to her secluded kitchen garden. She points across to the wall at the far side.

  “That gate leads to the rear of the stables where your mounts are waiting. I saw to it that your possessions were returned to that bag of yours and it’s strapped to your saddle. Do not leave it behind whatever you do.”

  I’m starting to fully appreciate the dangers in being considered to be in any way different in this time. The last thing Elspeth needs is to have to explain the presence in her home of my compass, tampons, or a ballpoint pen. I have no wish to endanger my new friend.

  Robbie appears torn. “Elspeth, we have letters, for the queen.”

  “You cannot go to Stirling now. Word of this matter will reach there before you do and who knows what welcome might be awaiting you when you arrive? Give me your letters and I’ll ensure they are delivered.”

  Robbie hesitates, then reaches inside his leather tunic to retrieve a package of folded linen parchment. He hands that to Elspeth, then reaches into his pocket again. This time he produces a ring, large, heavy, a bright golden colour set with a huge green stone surrounded by smaller red ones. Instinctively I know it to be gold, and the stones are an emerald and rubies. It must be worth a fortune.

  “Elizabeth entrusted this to us also, as a gift to her Scottish cousin.”

  Elspeth looks at the glittering gems, then back at Robbie. “Keep it. I’m sure the queen has jewels enough. If you should encounter an opportunity to give it to her majesty at some stage then do so but I suspect you may need this to aid your escape.”

  “I won’t steal and sell the queen’s ring.”

  “She doesn’t even know she has it. The piece will never be missed.”

  “But…”

  “Hush up, there is no time to debate the morals of this. Sell it, or not as you see fit. But you must go. Now.” She turns to me. “Please make every effort not to tear my gown, but if some mishap should befall the garment, please be sure to repair it yourself.”

  I’m no seamstress but this seems to matter to Elspeth, so I nod. Any further discussion is forestalled by the sound of yelling from the other side of the manor house. It would seem the witch-hunting villagers have mustered sufficient bloodlust to enter the property. Robbie shoves the ring back into his pocket and grabs me around the waist. I am hurled onto the back on my mount, a fine chestnut mare who seems spirited but shows no immediate inclination to send me flying into the dirt. I hitch up the velvet skirt and opt to ride astride. We’re rather past the point where I need to keep up appearances.

  Robbie and Will vault into their saddles and with a last wave at Elspeth we clatter out of the yard and head south across open moorland.

  No one speaks for an hour or more as we concentrate on galloping away from the perils of Glen Blair. Well, I concentrate. Will and Robbie make horsemanship look effortless, but I’m clinging on for all I’m worth, my seriously sore arse from last night’s escapades not helping matters in the least.

  At last Robbie slows the pace, sufficient to enable some attempt at conversation. I ask the question uppermost in my mind.

  “Where are we going?”

  Will answers. “South, back into England.”

  “Why? Wouldn’t we be better heading north, to the Highlands? Clan Sinclair?”

  “We could, and we may end up there eventually. But we’ve just learnt how difficult it’s going to be, keeping your secret. You’re as likely to fit in here as I am to take to the air and fly.”

  “You’re angry again. Because I disobeyed you.” I state the case, knowing the likely consequences.

  It’s Robbie who replies this time. “No, wee Charlie, I don’t believe we are. You did what you had to do. What either one of us would have done had we been close enough to make a difference. I’m glad of your prompt action, and of your amazing trick after you pulled the laddie out of the water. That was impressive, bringing him back from the dead that way.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I know, I know, medical skill. You said. But we remain impressed even so, and you have earned Elspeth’s undying gratitude. But for you, wee Iain would be food for the eels by now.”

  “Even so…”

  “So, we need to find a way to extricate you from your current precarious situation, and the best notion we can come up with is to send you back to your own time.”

  Now that sounds like a plan. I see one important flaw in it, however. “But you said you don’t know how. Neither do I.”

  Will spares me a glance as he urges his mount on. “True enough, but if there’s a hole or some such that you might be able to slip back through, the best place to locate it is going to be in the same area where we found you in the first place, on Helvellyn. So we’re headed there.”

  “What if we can’t manage it? What if I really am trapped here?”

  “Then we take a different route back up through Scotland and seek refuge with my family as you suggest. You and I will be wed on the way there. There’ll be some raised eyebrows but you’ll be accepted as my bride and can claim the protection of Clan Sinclair.”

  I open my mouth to respond to that little bombshell, but Robbie is quicker. “Wee Charlie has an aversion to marrying either one of us,”

  “Well, sh
e can overcome it, and fast. Unless she prefers taking her chances with a bunch of peasants armed with pitchforks.”

  “I didn’t say I was averse. I just said there was no need to feel obliged to marry me in case I’m pregnant.” I feel inclined to explain myself. Further, any objections I might have raised have entirely evaporated at the prospect of the likely alternative.

  “Ah, yes. I neglected to share that detail with Will. Our wee playmate here has some sort of contraption within her person that she claims prevents the possibility of pregnancy.”

  Will turns to stare at me, incredulous. “Well, that sounds as though it could turn out to be right handy and I’ll be interested to hear more of it. I trust you can disable this device also, since I expect we’ll all be fancying an heir or two in due course.”

  “It stops working after about three years. I’ve had it for a year already. What do you mean, we?”

  “I mean me, you, and Robbie.”

  “All of us. All three of us? Even after the wedding? If I do marry you, that is.” My head is reeling at the implications of continuing our unorthodox threesome.

  “Ah, lass, you’ll have no option but to marry one of us if you end up having to remain here. It doesn’t much matter which. And yes, we see no reason to alter our arrangement, though a degree of discretion might be called for. But we’ll come to all that in due course. If this plan we’re currently set on comes to nothing.”

  He doesn’t need to elaborate. If we are successful in locating the route back to my own time I’ll be leaving my men behind, here in sixteenth-century Scotland. Suddenly that prospect holds no appeal at all. I’ve only been in their company for four turbulent days, but I feel we’ve been together a lifetime. I can’t imagine life without them, wherever or whenever I might end up.

  “How long will it take to get back to Helvellyn?” I am conscious our remaining time together may be disappearing fast.

  “A couple of days, no more. We have three horses now so we can travel faster.” It took us four days to reach Glen Blair. Our pace is somewhat quicker now I have my own mount and am no longer slowing down one or the other of them by doubling up.

  “Enough talk. We ride, and fast. We want to put as much distance as we can between ourselves and that mob back there.” Robbie kicks his horse into a gallop again, and Will reaches over to give mine a flick with his riding crop. The mare lurches after Robbie, and I hold on and grit my teeth.

  * * *

  It’s dusk when Robbie finally slows again. He leads us into the shadow of a small wood, and dismounts. I pull my mare to a standstill beside his and attempt to do the same. My muscles have other ideas. I’m so stiff I can hardly lift my leg over the saddle. Robbie laughs at me as he comes over to help me down.

  “Wee Charlie, we’ll make a horsewoman of you yet.”

  “Not if you insist on spanking me every other day. Christ, I’m sore in places I never knew I had.”

  “The spanking will continue. You’ll toughen up. Eventually.”

  “Not if we do manage to find a way back for me.” I can hear the disappointment in my voice. This is ridiculous. I should be elated at the prospect of returning to my own world.

  “No one to spank you at home?” Will grins at me as he drags my bag from the side of my saddle. I guess we must be going to make use of my tent again.

  “Hardly. I live a very quiet life usually. On my own.”

  Will makes eye contact with Robbie and they exchange what I could only describe as ‘a look.’

  “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I beg your pardon, Charlie? Is something amiss?” Will has extricated my tent from the bag and is intent now on working the pop-up magic.

  “That look. You looked at each other.”

  “Did we? No, I don’t think so. A trick of the light, probably. And speaking of which, before it gets dark could you help me get a fire started, sweetheart?” Robbie drapes an arm across my shoulders and leads me away in the direction of the trees and likely firewood. His distraction tactics are only partially successful. I help him to collect twigs to burn, but I know what I saw.

  * * *

  We are lying in the tent, me sandwiched as usual between the two men, all of us naked. We enjoyed a decent supper of bread, cheese, and ale supplied by Elspeth and we are warm enough under the combined tartans of clans Sinclair and MacBride and aided by our own shared body heat. I can testify to the fact that sixteenth-century Scotsmen are remarkably hot.

  Will nuzzles my ear. “Are you tired, lass?”

  “Mmm, yes. And I ache.” I snuggle in to Robbie, Will pressed up close behind me. I am well aware that both men are sporting very impressive erections, but they always do when we settle down to sleep together. It doesn’t necessarily mean they intend to use them, though this does seem something of a waste.

  Robbie shoves himself up onto one elbow to peer down at me in the darkness. “Aches, do you say? Such a pity. Would you like us to help with that?”

  Ah, right. “You have something in mind?”

  “I suspect we can come up with a suitable plan, if pressed.”

  “It just so happens I have a plan of my own.”

  I can just make out the gleam of Robbie’s teeth as he smiles at me, his grin verging on wicked. “You do, wee Charlie? Then do please share it with us.”

  “It’s a bit rude.”

  “Ah, sounds like a good plan then. Continue, please.”

  “Very well. I’ve never sucked either of your cocks, but I’d like to, before we…” I don’t complete the sentence. I don’t want to actually put into words what we are heading toward. There’s a chance, just a faint chance, but a chance nonetheless that we’ll be going our separate ways before long, and it’s killing me.

  “Ah, such a strumpet. Who would have imagined it? Still, that’s an excellent notion and I for one would be obliged if you were to get started sometime soon.” Robbie shoves the plaid covers back to reveal his huge cock, jutting up at me in compelling invitation.

  I shuffle around to kneel up between the two of them. Will is also sitting up, and his erection looks every bit as eager as Robbie’s. “So, Robbie first, then you?” I smile at him, relishing the deliciously sinful prospect of sucking one man off while the other watches.

  “Nay, lassie. While you have Robbie’s dick in your mouth, mine will be in your arse.”

  “Oh!” That could be off-putting.

  “Yes. Oh. So turn your pretty little bottom in my direction, and get to it.”

  “But what about… oil?” I don’t recall seeing any lubricant in the tent, but in the darkness I really would not have noticed anyway.

  “Sweetheart, you’ll be so wet by the time I’ve prepared you we may not need it. But just in case…” He reaches under the edge of my sleeping bag, spread out as a groundsheet for all three of us, to retrieve the small bottle of oil. It has become a familiar sight whenever the three of us find ourselves alone.

  Thrilled at the prospect of the preparation he has in mind, I lean up to kiss Will’s lips. He enfolds me in his arms, his tongue tangling with mine as he explores my mouth, stroking my inner cheeks, the backs of my teeth.

  “Put the wench down. I have a use for her here.” Robbie’s tone is amused rather than impatient, but Will breaks the kiss anyway.

  “Randy bastard. Women prefer a little finesse occasionally. They like to feel appreciated.”

  “I do appreciate her. I’ll kiss her later if she insists. But I’m dying here.” Robbie has moved around so he is now lying across the width of the tent at the end closest to the entrance, his knees bent to fit. This arrangement offers me and Will more room for our part in the proceedings within this confined space.

  “Ah, lass, we must take pity on the poor suffering lout, I fear.” Will jerks his chin in the direction of Robbie’s swollen, solid cock. I grin to myself as I lean over to grip it in my fist.

  I’ll miss them so, and all of this. The gentle, crude banter. The explicit talk, t
he way they tease me at the same time as they’re arousing me to distraction, both of them bent on pleasuring me as much as themselves. Perhaps more. I could almost hope we don’t find that temporal wormhole or whatever it was that catapulted me back four hundred and fifty years. Then I would have no choice to remain here, with my beautiful men.

  I draw my hand up and down the shaft of Robbie’s cock, at the same time stroking the smooth head of his erection with the pad of my other thumb. The droplets of fluid seeping from the slit in the end coat my fingers, and I spread the wetness all over. I lean in, first to sniff the salty, musky aroma, then to lick the tip.

  The fluid tastes wonderful, a heady, tart flavour, familiar yet unique.

  “Ah, lass, that feels good. So good…” Robbie groans, one arm flung across his eyes.

  Encouraged, I open my mouth to take the whole of the head inside. I run my tongue around the ridge, pulling the skin back to expose the most sensitive area. Robbie jerks, swearing softly. I widen my jaws and take as much of the shaft as I can. My hand is still wrapped around the base and I pump that, my movements slow and even.

  Will shifts behind me, and his palms are on my buttocks, lifting my bottom higher. I arch my back, drawn into the shared intimacy of this moment, all of us open, exposed, enjoying each other, unashamedly pleasuring each other.

  I part my legs in response to a soft tap on my inner thigh, then gasp around Robbie’s cock as Will plunges three fingers deep into my pussy. I can hear the sounds of my wetness as he withdraws and drives them in again, twisting his angle to find my G-spot with an accuracy that is nothing short of unerring.

  Despite the distraction I manage to continue my own worship of the cock in my mouth, lapping and sucking, listening to and sensing Robbie’s response. It comes in the form of short, breathy moans, occasional muttered oaths, and a rhythmic jerking as he starts to thrust in sync with my own movements.

  Robbie reaches for the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He doesn’t force my head down, but the pressure of his fingers against my scalp tells me how much this is affecting him. I slip my spare hand behind his raised thighs to reach his balls, heavy and solid within their sac. I lift them, roll them in my palm, then squeeze gently.