My eyes went wide. “What—? Is everyone okay?”
He glanced around the busy cafeteria and said under his breath. “I daena ken, they hae escaped from the house tae the thirteenth century.”
I held my tray out to get a dollop of mashed potatoes. “What the hell, why would anyone escape to the dark ages?”
Fraoch got his dollop of mashed potatoes and said, “More please.” To me he said, “They dinna feel they had a choice. The house is unsafe. They went tae see Magnus.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Where have you been?”
He put his tray out for Salisbury steak. “Quentin told me tae stay near yer rehab so I can collect ye when ye are all fixed up.”
A slab of meat was tossed onto my tray. “That was very nice of him to think of me and my situation.”
“Aye, remember when I said ye ought tae apologize tae him? This is why. Because he is thinkin’ of us.”
“Yeah, you are right about that.” I came to the end of the buffet line and took a small plate with a brownie. “So where are you, really?”
“I am livin’ in a tent in the woods right outside.”
“That’s either the most romantic thing in the world or the freakiest.”
“I am Freaky Froochie.”
“That you are.”
We placed our trays down on a table. “So I will be out of here in a few more days… where are we headed — the house is unsafe?”
“The house is unsafe, we are supposed tae meet everyone in the thirteenth century, unless we hear from them first.”
I smiled. “Sounds good, and in the meantime, since you’ve been living in the woods...” I passed him my piece of bread.
He teased, “Ye ken, I am living in a tent and there might be gators around, I might need an extra brownie as well for fortitude.”
CHAPTER 4 - MAGNUS
Ihad been watching for the storm, but when it arrived twas different, nae like a storm but a shadow. It felt electric, as if the Trailblazer had been in use, and the air shimmered. Twas hard tae describe, but looked as if the atoms of the air were charged and in furious motion, but the usual roar, crash, and booms of thunder were barely perceivable.
I watched Haggis barkin’ at the sky, and waited for it tae clear. Then I rode towards the clearing with m’army behind me.
The area was completely still.
I asked m’men tae remain back while I investigated. But there wasna anyone there. I circled the clearing a few times.
I would hae sworn the storm had been one of ours, familiar in strength and its sudden build, its brutal feel, yet this one felt verra different. As if it had occurred down a verra long tunnel, or like a video of a storm with the volume turned down. Now the clearing was empty, quiet, and still. As if there had never been a storm.
My horse intently sniffed the underbrush. Then stepped forward, plunged his muzzle through the branches, and sniffed the empty space. Haggis wanted tae go in, but I ordered him tae stay. I peered into the dimness, but twas evident that there wasna anyone or anythin’ there.
Haggis growled, so finally I commanded, “Go!” He lunged intae the brush, barkin’ and sniffin’. Haggis came out and growled low and menacin’ at the bush.
M’horse snorted.
There was an odd sense about the space, a wavering tae the spot, a quiver. I listened, but I couldna hear anythin’ but m’horse stampin’ and the loud puffs of his breath.
I pulled m’horse from the woods and drew some of m’men tae the middle of the clearing and I asked if they had noticed anythin’. During the exchange I sensed somethin’ behind me. I spun m’horse, sure there would be a man, but I only caught a glimpse, a glimmer of the height and form of a man, the sense of a man, and was not sure about even that.
