The horse leaned her head down and nibbled on my belly and I recognized her companion beside her as Frith. “What’s your name, huh?” I asked petting her nose. I had to get up and wash the dirt from my body. I pulled myself upright using the mare’s head for support.
Once I got to my feet, I assessed my bodily situation. My back was aching and my knees bloody. I had fallen, no doubt, and probably knocked unconscious from my fall. I hoped no one had seen me lying here, but I wholly doubted it. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and the moon shone in through the open stable door, giving off just enough light to see around me.
Washing my hands in a clean trough, I looked around to see if anyone was nearby. It seemed quiet, quiet enough to sneak out, but my plans after that were dim. I needed clothes but getting them and not being spotted was going to be hard. I leaned against the wood of the stall entryway, hiding from any prying eyes, and wondered why the hell I was here. Did the book call to me? If so, why? Nothing like this has ever happened in the history of the Librarians. I would know, because I’ve studied the logs thousands of times as a young girl. If it did happen, no one spoke about it. I did learn of librarians who chose to stay inside the books, and the outcome was always disastrous.
It would change the course of history, and the target would not do what they set out to. But a book calling to a traveler just didn’t make sense. I pondered why it would happen while I watched the dark for any signs of movement.
The shock of being tossed here had kept my mind away from Jessa, but as I stood there in the silence of the night, it all came crashing down. Jessa would be panicked, beyond belief. But once the book was through with me, and sent me back, I could explain to her this strange occurrence. I stretched my back and felt a lovely crack which made it feel better, but that didn’t help my bloody knees. Finding some clean rags, I wrapped them and cleaned off the blood.
“Hey, you there! What business do you have with these horses?” I swung around, terrified of what I might find. I had been so busy watching the outside that I didn’t focus on the inside. A portly man in his later years studied me as I held up my hand.
“I mean no harm. I am from the kitchens. I merely came here to see the mares,” I lied, with ease.
He came closer, holding out a stick and staring at me sideways. “Ah, from the kitchens are ye? Well, then go back to them, you’ve no business here, these are my horses.”
I didn’t know what to say next. I couldn’t explain to him that I was waiting for the coast to be clear so I could sneak inside and get clothes. I had to stall somehow.
“I think I injured myself on the way in. I twisted my leg so I thought I’d rest for a minute before I tried to walk on it again.” Lying became so easy now that sometimes I forgot how many I’ve told.
He backed up a bit and held out his stick. “I can’t be helping ye. I’ve not got the eyes for it. I’m almost blind already. The last battle took most of what I had, and that wasn’t much.”
So he was partially blind then. It did work to my advantage even though it was tragic. He couldn’t see me properly, nor could he see just how much I currently did not fit in with the time period.
“I’ll be out of your stalls before you know it. I don’t need anything besides a small bit of rest. Once my leg is better I’ll make my way to the kitchens.”
He scoffed. “Och, aye, you will. You’ll be making your way there before Iona finds out you’re here and tans my hide for keeping a young girl in my stables. I’ll not have any suspicion with her.”
I was confused of his meaning, but I nodded anyway; which was stupid because it wasn’t like he saw me.
“You stay here and I’ll go off to bed. Don’t touch anything.” He grumpily walked away and I said goodbye to the horsemaster. Now that I met him, I knew why the horses looked so thin and in such rough shape; he couldn’t see how awful they looked. Once he was out of sight, I fed them myself and gave them each a good brushing. Except for the horse on the end. That black mare was antsy and I didn’t care to really injure myself.
I kept waiting for the soldiers outside to leave their posts, but it didn’t happen during the night. It wasn’t until early dawn that they finally left and I had my chance to run inside. As soundlessly as possible, I ran across the empty courtyard and into the doors of the castle that I had entered into on my first arrival here. I found myself in Marsen’s quarters and searched for the kitchen attire I needed. With my arms full, I dressed in the proper undergarments, including a pair of heavy wool stockings that would keep my legs nice and warm in this drafty cold castle. The brown overdress hung tightly over my curves but looked less restricting when I applied my loose apron. The shoes were another issue indeed. They were odd fitting and the strangest thing to get used to when you normally wore sandals or sneakers, but they were easy to slip on. I reached up to my glasses and took them off my face. I could see a little bit without them, but I saw best with them on. I could go without and I knew, to fit in here that I’d have to. I tucked them inside my clothes and into a leather satchel.
Once dressed, I quietly left the room and headed for the kitchens and the area that Iona had told me was mine for the night. The fire was lit and warm, and the rug that served as a bed was empty. I laid down and stared at the dying flames of the fire, trying to think of a good reason to tell Iona why I was missing. When I left I had no idea how many days, months or hours could have passed. The only way to know, really know, was to return and deal with the consequences. I usually had a good story, like last time, but this time was different. I was already away from these people for so long, that suspicion would surely grow. They were hiding out here in this castle; this fortress. Sir Malcolm wasn’t here to protect them from the English if they stumbled upon this site. His wife and all of her people would surely be slaughtered.
I couldn’t raise alarm, for fear of them throwing me in the stocks or outright killing me. I had to find Sir Malcolm, but the stupid book kept bringing me back here, for some reason or another. Perhaps Sir Malcolm was here, somewhere close, hiding. If that were so, he was hiding very well. As I rolled onto my other side I reached up to push my bracelet up higher, so it wasn’t seen by anyone’s prying eyes. When my hand touched nothing but skin, I sucked in a deep breath. My bracelet was gone!
Six
I panicked silently, hoping that the muffled sound of my crying wouldn’t wake anyone sleeping near the kitchen. I retraced my steps from the stables, even risking being seen by guards, but found nothing. Now as I sat on the rug by the cold fire, I cried and worried. There was nothing else to do but hope it turned up when I could get a better look. The sun was already coming up and looking in the dim moonlight was impossible. Once the sun arose I would find it for sure. That is if someone else didn’t find it first.
Oh, no, this was terrible. The bracelet was my only way back home and I was screwed without it. If someone found it, I may never see it again. The rose gold color of the bracelet would catch someone a pretty penny if sold. My grandmother had a safety latch put on the clasp, preventing breakage, and hadn’t ever lost it before me. I had to be the one to lose such an important family artifact. Burying my face, I sobbed even harder.
“Why Mollie, whatever is the matter, love?” Asked a very sleepy Iona. I looked up to see her concerned face and wanted nothing more than to run into her arms. Iona was such a lovely person, and her caring soul was hard to find in my time.
“I’ve lost something important, Iona,” I cried softly. “I am afraid it’s going to be gone forever.”
She sat next to me and put her hand on my shoulder, “No, my sweet, you’ll find it again. When you truly stop looking for it, it will return to you. You’ll see. Now, get yourself up and help me get breakfast ready for everyone. Today is a calm day, you know the sort. No fussing about, just regular meals for all. Then you can help stock the pantry, as is your job now. And then you will find what you
’ve lost.”
I sniffed. “You’re not concerned that I was gone, are you?”
She waved her hands and said, “Bah, no. We’ve gone over it. You’re back now and that’s all that matters. You get to start your first day back here with us. We’ve all missed you so. Well, me more than anyone else, really.”
So I came back on the very night I had left before. I had arrived in sync with their time period. How strange. But then everything about this travel was different. I was called here and now I was stuck here. Perfect.
I set about helping Iona with breakfast and even helped them set up the feast in the hall. When they ate in the morning, they had it buffet style. Although, they didn’t call it that, they usually ate that way unless it was a special occasion. Serving them anything besides ale, wine, or whiskey would be rare. But my job was in the pantry now, keeping it stocked and making sure the castle had the correct amount of food to keep everyone fed. As I set about to do that, I worried my lower lip wondering how long I would be stuck here. If I didn’t find my bracelet, my way home, it would be forever. I would never go home. Oh geez, that couldn’t happen. Staying in this century would be absolute madness. The future for Scotland was increasingly grim. Once Robert the Bruce became king, it would be better for a while. But then the fighting would start again. Well, it never really stopped until they gained their freedom. As I oversaw what was already in the pantry, I came across something smelling just like chocolate, and as I pulled it out saw that it was an herb. Of course chocolate wasn’t a food source in Scotland just yet, but the herb smelled amazing. As I put it to my nose, the smell reminded me of Jessa and her chocolate covered face. I put the bottle back, trying hard not to think of how worried she must be right now. What would happen to my life back home if I went missing for years? Would Jessa know where I was, or would she think that I ran away? I sighed and continued my work as fast as I could so I could go out and look for my bracelet.
Placing the last item on the shelf, I ran out to the courtyard, where men were training for battle and women were watching in awe. I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on my mission, choosing to ignore the kilt wearing men. I found nothing in the courtyard, so I returned to the stables.
“Hello,” I called, to the horsemaster. “It’s me, um, Mollie from last night. I seem to have dropped something and I came to look for it.”
Silence. He wasn’t here or he was sleeping still, which was entirely possible. I entered anyhow and ran my hands along the wood, petting the horses as their noses poked out of their stalls. I found the stall for the horse that I had met with last night when I came crashing in. I opened her stall door and found it empty, horse and all was gone. Even her feed and manure had been cleaned out.
Hearing a sound behind me, I ran out of the stall, I had to find out who had it cleaned. They may have my bracelet.
“Hello! I need to talk to you,” I said to the sound in the back of the stable. When the sun poked through the clouds, and the stable filled with brilliant light, I saw that the sound wasn’t coming from the horsemaster, but from a large blond Scotsman who was brushing the black stallion that I didn’t dare touch. He stopped brushing as I neared and then finally turned to face me.
He was the man from last night’s feast. The stranger I had never seen before. His angry face, faced mine and he threw his brush to the ground.
“What are you doing in here? Don’t you know that kitchen maids stay in the bloody kitchen?”
When he spoke he spat, and I could see pure hatred in his blue eyes. I couldn’t imagine what would cause a man to hate a girl he didn’t know so much, but I backed up, not wishing to find out.
“I apologize, I was looking for something very dear to me and I came to see if it was here. That’s all.”
He scoffed and said, “There is nothing here of yours, wench. Now be gone before I shove you out.”
“Of course,” I bit out, trying not to cry. As I turned around I said as low as I could under my breath, “Bastard.”
“What did you call me?” I froze, not so much because he heard me, but because I had said it in English, not Gaelic, and he had understood me. Most of the people in Sir Malcolm’s household and the people that swore their fealty to him spoke in Gaelic, the language of the Scots. Some spoke in English, but it was rare.
Before I knew it, he was grabbing me and turning me to face him. “Don’t ye ever call me that. Do ye hear me? I will not be talked to like that by some… some traitorous sneaking spy! Calling me a bastard is like me calling you a… a whore! It isn’t right.”
I ripped myself free and fought the tears that came fast. “How dare you! I am not a whore, I am a lady. I’ve done nothing to you, but you treat me so ugly. You truly are a bastard and I will not take it back.”
He huffed and growled and that scared me more than his words. He was seriously angry with me for no apparent reason. He only shook his head at me instead of apologizing.
“Why do you dislike me so much? I need help looking for something and you are so mean to me. Why? What did I ever do to you?” I asked as tears poured out of my eyes. I wanted to run away so badly, but I needed to find my bracelet more than I needed to get out of there. I would stay here until I had answers.
“I don’t trust you, is why I don’t like you. I’ve never seen you before and you’ve that look about you that tells me you are not who you say you are. Mollie. Mollie what? From where?”
I swallowed hard. I had a backstory, and I knew it well, but as I stood before this man, I found it hard to remember.
“Mollie Wallace from Aberdeenshire. I came here with Iona, when she decided to follow Mistress Ainsley into hiding. I’ve met with Sir Malcolm many times and have been with his men and his followers for a year now. I’ve fallen ill and had to stay away for a time, but I am back. And I must say,” I said, calmly, “I’ve never seen you before now. So who exactly are you, huh?”
“Who I am, is none of your concern, Mollie Wallace from Aberdeenshire. I know my place in this castle and it’s to fight, not to play with kitchen maids.”
Oh my God he was so frustrating. If I could slap him, I would. But his height must have been about six foot six, way taller than my tiny five foot four. He towered over me and his muscle mass dwarfed me. Regardless of his size, I refused to let him call me a whore.
“You are an angry person, whoever you are. And it wasn’t right that you called me that ugly word. If you were a real man you’d take that back and apologize to me. But you won’t do that, will you? Now please tell me, what happened to the mare in that stall?” I said, pointing to her empty stall. “And who cleaned it out?”
He peered into the stall and then looked at me and shrugged. “Don’t know. How ya see the stall is how I saw it when I arrived.”
That didn’t add up. I left here not too long before sunrise, and she was fine when I left.
“Then who was here before you?”
“The horsemaster was, but he’s still asleep. Sorry that I can’t help you. What is it you’re looking for then?”
I wouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction of knowing what I had lost. Screw that! I turned on my heel and marched out of the stables and went in search for the mare. If she was with a rider then surely they would know who cleaned the stall out. An hour later I found her out in the pasture eating grass and her rider was Lady Ainsley. As I came upon her, I bowed my head and greeted her. Seems she wanted a ride with her best horse.
“I know the conditions of the stables, Mollie,” she told me as she watched the horse feed. “I had Eoin clean out her stall this morning. She deserves to be free today and not be locked up. I suppose we all want a little freedom, lately.”
Eoin. So now I knew the name of the man or boy I had to track down. I watched the horse with Ainsley for a while and then before it got too late, dismissed myself. It was better that I did anyway, she was loo
king a bit sad and I didn’t want to bother her any longer than I already had.
I had a mission now, to find Eoin and get my bracelet back. My luck would be he was a thieving child who already sold it. As I set my eyes back on the castle the supper horn was ringing and I knew I had to hurry to clean up. Dinner would be served soon and I was expected to play my role here for now. It wouldn’t be long. I would find my ticket back home and then I would stop traveling until I found out why the book did what it did. Finding answers would mean taking a trip to visit with some other librarians who might know better than I. Finding Sir Malcolm might never happen. His story may never have a real ending, but right now I didn’t care about that. All I cared about was getting home.
****
The dinner rush swallowed up my whole night. I was spent by the time we were finished in the kitchen and I had zero energy to search the castle for this Eoin. At least my mind had been on other things, instead of the dread of being stuck here. After helping the ladies in the kitchen clean up, I took off my apron and hung it in the pantry. It was fully stocked and ready for the next day, so I took my leave. I finally had some time to investigate. Hopefully I could be sneaky enough and no one would question why I was wandering about the castle at night. It seemed everyone was on edge lately. In the past, whenever I would come here and visit with Sir Malcolm, I’d see happy cheerful Scots. This time, though, they were not as merry. Maybe it was because the state of their country, or because Sir Malcolm had to go into hiding. I knew with Ainsley it had to be that he was gone. If I had loved someone like she loved him, I’d feel the same way. But the castle as a whole was hushed and secretive. I mean just today I was thought to be a spy, and no one trusted anyone it seemed. During dinner a fight had broken out between Torren MacAllister and Connell Kennedy over something, I wasn’t sure what. But it was odd to see them fighting because these men were part of Sir Malcolm’s band of warriors. They fought together for Scotland’s rights and freedom and they shouldn’t be fighting each other.
The Archivist (The Librarian Chronicles Book 2) Page 5