“I have no idea.”
He chuckled again.
“I hate your laugh, what a horrible person, you find all the wrong kinds of things funny.”
He said, “I would get comfortable, ye will be here for a while.” He closed the heavy door and it was locked from the outside. Great.
I pushed and pulled on the handle, looking for any sort of give, kicking the bottom, and checking the iron hinges for weaknesses. I rushed to the window. It looked out over the courtyard, from very high up, with no ledges, no way to jump, but craning I saw the edge of storm clouds. I figured they were centered over the clearing on the other side of the castle, behind me.
I hoped it was Quentin and the rest of our family headed for Maine — and wasn’t it a relief that they were getting to safety? But also, wasn’t it horrific that the only people who knew James and I were captive in this castle were leaving?
It had been the plan but it never dawned on me that I would be the one captured and left behind.
But, then again, the storm clouds might be Magnus.
I was here on the day and time agreed upon by us — why wasn’t he here to meet me?
I had been at Stirling castle before in the year 1552, when Magnus and I had gone on a vacation with Mary of Guise. Our room had looked out over the courtyard, much like this, with a small window. From this year, 1290, to the year 1552 would be almost three hundred years. I didn’t recognize much in the landscape beyond the basics: a stone castle. A river, its course unfamiliar.
I turned from the window to take stock. It might have been the same room. In the year 1552 there had been a four poster bed along one wall with silk brocade curtains of purple cloth. There had been luxurious rugs, and tapestries on the walls.
It had been warm because of the fire that my husband built in our hearth.
None of that was there now. The fireplace had no fire which explained the chill. The stone floor had no rugs, the bed had a canopy, but instead of the purple silk, there was a thick brown heavy cloth draped around it. Near the fireplace stood an uncomfortable looking table and chairs.
I crossed the room to sit on the bed. There was an audible ‘bonk’ as my ass hit a plank. “Fucking great.”
What could I use as a weapon? There was a ceramic pitcher, I could break it and attempt to use the shards to kill the next man who entered the room, but ceramic was not as sure as glass. I rapped my knuckles on the side of the pitcher hearing a muted clunk, not the clank of strong sharp ceramic. It sounded like it would crumble to clay if pressure was applied.
To kill a man would require pressure.
Also, there was sure to be another man, and another, because it was a castle, there would be more men.
If I was here for a time I could break apart the chair and use a leg to beat the next man who came in. I tried to pick the chair up, it was thick and strong and heavy. I had one pocket in my skirts and all it had in it was some lint, a Burt’s Bees lip balm, and a Matchbox car I had picked up off the ground this morning so no one would step on it.
This morning was centuries away.
How come every time I got in one of these situations I didn’t have a gun? Or a knife? You would think I would learn. I sighed.
I sat down and carefully lay back on the hard bed and looked up at the stained canopy. Wouldn’t it be great if we normalized wearing a sword around Florida? Then I would always have one.
I remembered how Magnus used to want to carry a sword into bars and restaurants and it would have brought me happiness to think of him back then, so innocent and naive about the world, but —where was he?
CHAPTER 3 - HAYLEY
It was lunch break, visiting hours at Rehab, and Fraoch was here, waving from the door of the lounge. I joked, “Hey, sweet cheeks.”
He said, “Hello, potty mouth,” as he swept me up and kissed me.
I laughed. “Where’d you learn that?”
“From Isla. Tis funny.”
I laughed and led him to the cafeteria line. We were one of the firsts so there was no wait.
“How is everyone by the way—?” I took a cup for a soda.
He grabbed three cartons of milk. “Not good, m’bhean ghlan, we are a family in crisis as they say on the wall poster over there.”
