by Jenn Lees
“Whoa, whoa, now.” Rory put his hands up to stop the barrage. “No, I did nae time travel to the future. I...ah...see things.”
May as well be totally honest from the start.
This was her chance to call him crazy. To have her suspicions he was odd confirmed and make her way out of this...whatever this was for her.
Rory held his breath and searched her eyes. What was she thinking? Forget time travel. He wished he could read her mind!
After a silence, and a lot of frowning, she opened her mouth but said nothing.
Uh, oh.
“Speak to me, Siobhan.”
“What exactly do you see?”
“Snippets from the past and the future. I can’t make it happen. It just does. Rarely, like. My aunty is a doctor, and well, she says it’s because I’ve travelled to the past and back, twice, I’m able to see time, ken?”
One eyebrow raised. Siobhan held his gaze. “You’ve done it twice?” A hint of incredulity lingered in her voice. She blinked a few times, the attempt to comprehend his explanation plain on her face, and she wasn’t winning.
“Aye, I had to retrieve my father from the past. But it did nae work out.” He bit his lower lip.
“What happened? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“No, but that’s when my father died.” Rory sighed. “It’s a long story, but my father stole a time journey to the past to protect my mother. It was after we were born here in the future. Or the present, which is now the past, or whichever way you want to look at it.”
Siobhan blinked and shook her head at the same time.
“There is history there which you need to tell me, but later, if you’d prefer it, okay?”
He nodded, relieved he didn’t have to go into all the detail now.
“Being into physics, I’ve often pondered time travel.” Siobhan’s mouth curled up on one side as she looked into his eyes, her gaze piercing. “I’ve always wondered when a person travels through time, do they step out of it momentarily? Does it mean they are in timeless eternity? What do they experience? Whenever I’ve discussed this with my fellow scientists, and even once with a theologian, we concluded it may send someone mad. Do you think you’re mad?”
“Um...”
How did he answer that one?
“I did at first, but Aunty Bec’s explanation about being able to view time works for me. I don’t remember the ‘during’ of time travel, only the before and after.”
“Well, I know you aren’t mad, if it helps any. Viewing time.” Siobhan’s voice held a thoughtful wonder. “How did I come to fall in love with a time traveller and a sage?” She leaned onto him more, almost winding him. “So, you saw us?”
“Aye, but I did nae ken it was you.”
“Huh?” She tilted her head. “You’ll need to explain that.”
“Well, I knew I would marry a beautiful, honey-blonde woman, but I did nae ken it was you until...”
“When?” The word stretched out of her mouth.
“When I first smelled your perfume.” Rory blinked.
“But that was—.”
There was a deep, distant boom, and the cottage rattled for twenty seconds. Books fell off the shelf behind the door. A spare cooking pot tumbled off the metal rack above the solid fuel stove and clattered to the floor. Rory held Siobhan close, and she gasped as she pressed her head to his chest.
“It will all be okay if he was submerged.” She lifted her head to him.
“Unless things changed any, last time I saw him he was diving.”
They held each other in silence.
Siobhan blinked at him. “If he wasn’t, this hut will blow away and us with it. Very soon.”
“He was under,” Rory said with certainty.
There was a knock at the door. Siobhan pulled the bed-clothes over herself.
“Aye, we’ll just be a moment, Murdo.” He yelled at the door.
“Come out when ye are ready, Rory.” Murdo’s voice came muffled through the closed door.
Rory jumped out of bed and put on Murdo’s shirt. Siobhan found her clothes on the floor and dressed, then went to the sink and rinsed her mouth. He stood beside her and did the same. They smiled at each other and then he walked to the door.
“Did you see anything with that boom, Murdo?” Rory opened the door where Murdo sat on an old chair, just to the right and facing west.
“Aye, nothing. And there would hae been if...” Murdo didn’t finish.
“Aye.”
“Aye. Young Angus. God rest his soul.” Murdo bowed his head.
“A hero.” Siobhan was beside Rory, her arms slipped around his waist.
“And Dae-Jung and his helmsman; brave North Koreans.” Rory indicated with his chin to Murdo. “This man here is a hero, too.”
Murdo looked up from his chair, squinting in the morning sunlight. Siobhan faced him, waiting for more.
“He filled the sub’s tank with fuel to make sure it cleared Scotland, well and truly.”
Beside him, Siobhan gasped.
“When did you do that, Mr MacDonald?” she asked Murdo.
Murdo gave a shaky grimace and didn’t answer.
“I don’t know when it was, but he did nae have a suit,” Rory said to Siobhan. “Do you have anything for him?”
Siobhan blinked, her mouth open, eyes flicking and nostrils flaring. She shook her head silently, not looking at Murdo.
“Can you make things easier for him?” he whispered.
She shrugged, walked back into the cottage and rummaged through the medical kit.
“I’m fine, Rory. Dinnae bother.” Murdo’s gruff voice seemed even more so. “I feel fine.”
“But you may not for long. It depends on how much exposure you had.” Siobhan had the medical kit at her feet and rummaged more. “Here’s all the antiemetics I have and ... some sleeping pills. Morphine tablets too.” She held them out to him, but he didn’t take them. “I’ll put them on your table.” She stepped to the table, the bottles rattled as she placed them on the checked cloth.
“Thems over yonder dinnae ken yet that you did nae actually finish yoor ride on that there submarine, ye ken?” Murdo looked to the campsite by the shore.
“You mean you haven’t told them he’s alive?” Siobhan’s eyes were wide as she shielded them with her hand, the risen sun now hitting them with its full light. “We’d better get over there!”
They collected the depleted medical kit and walked to the motorboat. Over at the camp, people moved around and shouted, as the boom had awoken them.
Their journey over with Murdo was a quiet one. Rory held Siobhan’s hand in his. He needed the reassurance of her presence beside him. It had been a close thing.
So close.
Murdo steered the boat to the shore and the pier nearest their camp. Rory jumped out and tied the rope to the pier for Murdo.
“Make a seaman of you yet, Rory.” Murdo grinned at him as he walked back to the motorboat.
“I haven’t thanked you properly,” Rory said. “You saved my life, Murdo. And have risked your own.”
“Och weel, I did what I came for to do. And you have saved mine many a time, brother.” Murdo’s crinkled eyes seemed to glitter.
“What do you mean?” Rory frowned.
Murdo held Siobhan’s hand and continued helping her out of the moored, but still rocky, boat.
“Does she ken about your travels, Rory?” With a nod, Murdo indicated in Siobhan’s direction.
“What do you mean?” A chill collected at the back of Rory’s neck as he repeated his question.
What did this man know?
Their friends at the camp had noticed the boat and his presence. Their whoops and cries were coming closer.
“I’m your wee brother, Brendan, Rory,” Murdo whispered into Rory’s face.
“But how—?”
Murdo put a finger to his lips and slipped a small piece of paper into his hand. “Make sure your wee brother gets this, okay?”
<
br /> Behind Rory, his crew were cheering, and Xian slapped him on the back.
Chapter 27
A lump formed in Siobhan’s throat. Soft deep sobs mingled with sighs of relief surrounded Rory as Callum embraced his twin in a bear hug. Rory’s crew had tears in their eyes and broad smiles on their tired faces. Siobhan swallowed and turned to the loch as the reunions continued behind her. It was early, but the sun was well above the horizon. If she recalled correctly, tomorrow was the summer solstice. As it would be the longest day of the year, the sun would not set until very late. Murdo’s boat chugged back to the other side of the loch where a row of fishing boats moored to a pier. Seagulls circled above their masts.
“Let’s pack up and get going. I just want to be home.” Rory commanded his crew and Siobhan’s Government team behind her.
Rory’s hand came to her shoulder, then slipped around her waist.
“I hope you’re okay it’s common knowledge we’re together. I cannae keep anything from my crew. They knew about us before we did, as they say.” He grinned beside her.
Her mouth tugged at the corners. “Yes. Let’s go home.”
What did she mean by that? Where was home now? In the Government Bunker, or here, up top, with Rory? She sensed she was in the in-between. Something deep inside told Siobhan she was on the precipice of a new beginning, and a knowing saturated her. She was with this man now, and there would be no turning back from Rory—not ever.
They reloaded the remaining equipment onto the horses after striking camp. Sundeep and Sanjay’s bodies, wrapped in dampened camp blankets to keep them cool, lay on either side of the sturdiest-looking packhorse. Antony and McPherson mounted and had their hands tied to their saddles.
“Do I ride with you again?” Standing next to Rory, Siobhan fiddled with straps of her duffle bag as he loaded the pack horse with her gear.
Rory arched an eyebrow. “Well, you need to learn how to ride, woman. But as I’m wanting to get home without any mishaps, I suppose I must endure you sitting in front of me all the way.”
She opened her mouth to reprimand his cheek, but Callum interrupted.
“Rory!” Callum’s deep voice called from where he stood with his horse. He faced the hills behind them.
Siobhan turned with Rory to the direction in which they would travel back to the Invercharing Community. Overlooking the loch, a group of people, some mounted on horses, positioned themselves on the side of the hill. Guns and swords glinted in the sunlight. Their clothes were shabby, and lank hair stirred in the breeze.
“Who are they?” she whispered to Rory.
“Bandits.” His hand twitched to his pistol tucked into his belt. “Mount up as soon as we can, everyone. We’ll veer to our right as we start our journey. No use sitting here like ducks.”
They were soon riding their horses at a walk the way they had come, and the bandits stayed to their left. Siobhan looked at their audience regularly. Rory, Callum, Xian, and indeed everyone in their group, did the same. The bandits hadn’t moved an inch. Their weapons remained at their sides. They seemed content to watch them journey past.
Callum cantered up to Rory’s horse once they had reached Poolewe.
“What’s that all aboot, do ya think?”
Rory shook his head. “They did us no harm.” He looked his brother in the eye then. “I’m no’ sure. Stay alert, aye?”
A silence had descended on the party, thanks to their unwelcome observers.
Rapids roared beneath the arched stone bridge they crossed on their way through the quaint, small village of Poolewe. The village had appeared empty on their way up to Loch Ewe, but now families stood in their doorways and stared at them as they rode through their village. Some waved. Young children giggled. Rory shifted in the saddle behind her and remained quiet. He nodded at the adults who acknowledged them.
Once through the town Siobhan, turned her head to Rory. He wore a frown.
“Why the audience?”
“Dinnae ken.” Rory’s frown never lifted.
The puckered brow continued for most of the morning. It was there every time she glanced around at him.
They stopped for lunch a third of the way along Loch Maree and sat opposite the first of the three islands in the middle of it. Siobhan ate the stale bannocks and dried beef, scanning the countryside. The grey-stoned, green-grassed mountains beside Loch Maree sat in quiet reflection in the waters of the still loch; the loch a mirror in the bright, sunny day.
Still so beautiful. How wonderful to live here. If only it was safer. Siobhan swallowed the dry meat. Her nerves had been on high alert since the morning’s spectators. Once again, the beauty of the wilds of Scotland were tempered with its dangers—the people.
Siobhan eyed the landscape once more. It truly was magnificent—tall, grey mountains, out-croppings of rock, clumps of darker-green forests. Her eyes flicked back to a lone figure. She gasped.
“Rory.” There was alarm in her voice.
Siobhan told herself to be calm or she’d make everyone jumpier than they already were.
“What?” He was by her side in an instant.
“Ah, I’m not sure, but is that a person way over there?” She pointed.
Rory took out his high-powered binoculars and looked in the direction. He shook his head. “No. A standing stone. Maybe one of the standing stone circles that are all over the Highlands.”
“But it’s only one. That happens?”
“Aye,” he sounded unperturbed.
Siobhan continued chewing the tough meat. She didn’t recall any standing circles on their journey to Loch Ewe, but then they’d had other things on their mind.
They remounted after finishing their food. Rory, at the head of the party, turned Boy so he faced them.
“We’re making good progress, due to our early morning’s start, but I wish to camp beside Loch Maree. The same spot at the loch-side near the woods as we camped on our way here, aye? It will be ideal.” He turned the horse and kicked him to a walk.
“Ideal for what, Rory?” Callum rode right behind his brother, as always.
“You’ll all find oot when we get there.” He waved his hand dismissively.
They reached the place and set up camp with efficiency, and few spoke. A campfire lit for cooking was soon on the blaze when Rory approached Siobhan as she sat on the log beside it. He carried his long range rifle and smiled for the first time since leaving Loch Ewe.
“Callum, Xian and I are going hunting and we’ll have a celebratory feast of sorts tha’ night. Need some fresh meat. Have nae eaten well for a few days, aye?” Rory kissed her on the lips before walking off with the other men.
He spoke orders to Kendra and Geoff as he passed. Ensuring their vigilance, no doubt.
There was a definite strange feeling surrounding the camp and a prickling on the back of Siobhan’s neck, but not as in a threat. After all they’d experienced with an underwater nuclear explosion nearby, everything was giving her the heebie jeebies. But the people who’d stared at them earlier in the day seemed benign, even curious.
Siobhan wandered to the loch side, stood amongst the grey pebbles and stones, and filled cooking pans with cool, fresh water for heating over the campfire. Camping was becoming another skill to add to her repertoire. Rising from her task she inhaled the crisp mountain air. The grey, triple-headed monolith on the other side of the loch wasn’t wearing such a cloudy halo today. The sensation of being watched remained. Maybe it was the grey monster over there.
Siobhan laughed to herself at her explanation. Her first laugh in a long time. Yes, the previous days of stress were lifting. Let them. More stresses would come. Such as what to do with Antony.
And what to do about her and Rory.
How would it pan out? She pushed the problem aside for the moment. Celebrate, then think the through difficult things. Just be here; here and now. Life was too short to worry about tomorrow even. Yes, so short for some. She still had to tell Aunty Rajna of the death of her pre
cious boys.
Warm tears trickled down her face. Siobhan hadn’t allowed herself to cry until now. She wiped the moisture off her cheeks. She wasn’t being disrespectful, only practical. Celebrate first. The boys would have understood she needed a break from all this intense emotion.
Siobhan walked back to the fire with the water and then helped around the camp, avoiding Antony as much as possible. She did not want to have any confrontations with him at present. And any interaction with him would be a confrontation.
She sat on the log by the fire for another hour; with no wind, the smoke hung around the camp. She would smell smoky, along with everything else. She was looking forward to a shower. The sound of male voices and foot-tread coming through the forest reached her ears. Rory and Callum each carried a berry of rabbits hanging from their hand, and Xian followed behind with the guns. The rabbits had a split in their bellies from where the men had gutted them.
“We’ll take them over near the loch and skin them,” Callum said.
The others devised a spit.
THE EVENING MEAL OF spit-roast rabbit was the most delicious Siobhan had ever eaten. Ever.
After their meal, Rory stood from his seat beside her, a flask of whisky in his hand, and poured a dram into everyone’s mug, then held his high.
“To our heroes and dear friends. May we never forget them. Scotland is indebted to them. To Angus. To Dae-Jung and the helmsman. To Sundeep and Sanjay. To Murdo MacDonald.” Rory lifted his mug in a toast.
“Angus, Dae-Jung and the helmsman.” Chorused around the fire. “Sundeep and Sanjay. Murdo MacDonald.”
Rory removed the lid of another flask, a silver-metal hipflask from his kit. Holding it high, he began to pour out its contents onto the ground beside him. He blinked often as his brow crinkled. The group held a respectful silence for a while. Even those restrained, who’d had their bonds loosened to eat their meal, remained silent.
“Slainte Mhor.” Rory raised his mug again.