“We will not follow you, but do not return. If we discover that the son of Mag Mòr is returning for the throne his father lost, then we will have him executed in London for all to?—”
Wallace said, “I ken, I heard yer diabolical threats — I am sick of listenin’ tae ye goin’ on and on. Ye would threaten the son of the Scottish King? Truly? Then I will see yer head taken from yer shoulders.”
Edward said, “When fleeing a stronghold that has been destroyed by forces from England, ought you insult and threaten the King on your way from the gates?”
Wallace glared.
I rode my horse between them. “Come on, Wallace, we hae a journey ahead of us and yer whole lifetime tae solve this dispute.”
CHAPTER 56 - KAITLYN
STAUNTON, VIRGINIA - SOMETIME IN 1775
The helicopter was swooping over the landscape, it was soul-shakingly loud, and freezing with the air rushing in through the open sides. I tucked my head against Magnus’s chest and clamped down, trying to keep myself from shaking apart with cold and fear.
I felt him tense as he raised his head to look around, then put his head back down and was quiet for a while. We couldn’t talk, it was way too loud for talking.
Then he raised his head up again and watched. “Och nae!” He yelled, “Hold on! They are twistin’ a vessel!”
“While we’re in flight? In a helicopter?”
Magnus shoved his back against the wall and jammed his feet against another wall. I was pulled partly under a seat, gripping the legs. I held my feet clamped around a bar, as I felt the wind grab and buffet the helicopter, swinging back and forth in the air.
I screamed as the pain shot up my arm and I held on for my life.
We weren’t flying anymore.
Everything was still.
The helicopter rested at an angle.
I opened my eyes to see Magnus’s face, still and...
way too still.
I tummy crawled across the floor of the helicopter and grabbed his face in both hands. “Magnus! Magnus are you okay?”
He nodded without opening his eyes. Then they fluttered open. He groaned. “Och nae, twas a horror.”
Behind me a man was laughing, loudly. “Hotdamn! I always wanted tae fly a helicopter through time. That was awesome.”
He was wearing breeches and a blue coat, with a high ruffled shirt collar, looking like a Founding Father. “Wasna it awesome, Mag Mòr?”
Magnus said, “Ye are a monster. Who are ye?”
The man’s face fell. “Ye will call me Emperor Asgall, and ye dinna like it, Mag Mòr? Ye dinna think twas fun?”
“Nae, twas criminal and if I address ye at all, twill be as ‘Arsegall’.”
He chuckled. “Ye just had tae put on yer seatbelt and — but I see ye dinna hae a seatbelt. Oh well, tis fine, ye lived through it.” He lifted the head of the pilot from the control panel. “This guy though, he dinna survive it. But twas an experiment, we learned something.”
Magnus asked, “Where are we?”
“We are at one of my residences, ye are tae be my guests while I wait for yer ransom.”
He ordered men to grab us and force us through the woods at dusk, the light was growing dim. We came to the lawn of a large colonial-style home.
I was walking behind Magnus. He was craning around, looking at everything. I was too, trying to figure out where we were. Any clue. Or else it would be near impossible to find us.
