“But you don’t know what you’re missing. Sex with the woman you love…it’s like sticking your cock in…”
“That’senough, Domech”, Bridei said impatiently. His sex life was frustrating enough without Domech rubbing his good fortune in his face at every turn. The more power and riches he gained, the choosier he had to be about the women he bedded. And truth be told, hewaslonely for the companionship a wife or at least a steady consort would have provided. Someone to hold in the night and talk to about all of the things he could tell no one else, not even his closest advisors. And children. He would love to have children of his own one day. His people adored their children, they were seen as the future of the tribe and gifts from the gods. If he was fated to have that with someone, it would have to wait. For now, his life belonged to his people, and no woman would change that.
Nessahadn’t thought about how quiet it would be, when she had imagined the past. And shehadimagined it, many times. How could she not have, when she had lived such an unusual life, where the lives of a people long gone were such a big part of her own? Despite the bird songs and the sound of the surf just outside the window, there was a primitive stillness in the air that spoke of a time before the noise of engines and the subtle hum of electronics took up the spaces in between. This was in so many ways an alien world; although the landscape was familiar, she could feel the difference deep in her bones. Oh she’d seen a lot of very strange things in her life, being who she was, and living in Scotland where legends and superstition ran deep. Some of the things she’d experienced even seemed to have no earthly explanation. But this…this beinghere, was so much more.
She drew in a deep breath. The room, like the hall below, smelled like cold ashes and stale wood smoke, mixed with the earthiness of stone and the slight tang of oak. Bridei had tied her to a wooden post when he left, despite her protests, which had escalated rather quickly to hissing and scratching on her part, and amused laughter on his as he easily overpowered her.
Bridei was strong. Really strong. And he smelled like leather and exotic spice with a hint of musk. How did she know that? Because he had held her down with the weight of his body as he fastened the rope. She had quit her struggles then, because the butterflies had come back again. Only they had morphed into large, fire-breathing dragons, and her body had melted beneath his. For a brief, insane moment, she hadwantedhim. Then she had come to her senses and felt guiltier than she ever had. Nathan was probably worried by now, because she wasn’t home for their usual Friday date, and he almost always spent the night at her place on weekends. She pushed Nathan to the back of her mind. Although she already missed him, she had other things to think about. Like escaping with her life.
And where was Angus? For a moment she thought about shouting his name to see if he was within ear-shot, maybe in another room in the broch, but she quickly thought better of it. She could only hope he was okay, because it hurt to think of him tied up like she was. Angus wouldn’t understand what was happening.
She tested the ropes for what must have been the hundredth time, but they still held, grating against her already chaffed and stinging wrists. Bridei apparently meant to make her suffer a little, and that made her angry, since she hadn’t even done anything wrong. She was here by accident, not choice. If she had guessed for even a second that there were actually instructions for time travel in that old trunk, and that Angus could read them, she would have put a stop to things long ago. As she closed her eyes and rested her head against the beam, Nessa could almost see Angus in his little room, working feverishly on his calculations.
She sighed as she stared at the piles of open books and papers covered with illegible scribblings that were littering the small room, covering every available surface as well as most of the floor. On top of the mess there were scattered rocks and pieces of wood, along with a few other incongruous objects. There was nothing to be done but watch and wait and see what, if anything, would come of it all. She knew the other people in town whispered about him, but she was fiercely protective of her uncle. After all, Angus would soon be all the family she had in this world, and the only one who shared the weight of her secrets.
It had taken root more than ten years ago, this mad quest of equations and gadgets, when a blow to the head by a falling tree branch had left Angus so close to death that she and Gram had sat by his bedside, holding their breath. After three long days, he had woken up, and Nessa had sighed out that breath in relief. She would not be alone in the world, at least not yet. Uncle Angus had never been quite the same, though what he had lost in lucidity he seemed to make up for in a way that had baffled her in the beginning, but she had quickly grown to accept. Uncle Angus had never been a bit eccentric, to be honest, even before the accident. But after he woke up from that coma he began…calculating things. What, exactly, she wasn’t sure. And she had no way of knowing if any of the pages upon pages of figures he produced meant anything at all, but the sheer number of those pages was impressive.
“Angus?” she called from the doorway. He appeared from behind a stack of books, holding a half-empty bag of potato chips, one of which was dangling out of his mouth. She wrinkled up her nose. “If you don’t stop eating junk food and actually consume some vegetables, I’m going to be peeling your dead body off that floor one day.”
He waved a hand at her dismissively. “Phhht. We all die someday.”
“I’m going to visit Gram, do you want to come with?”
“Can’t. I have way too much to do.”
The sudden sound of voices outside the door startled her from her memories and she quickly held her breath in order to hear them better.
“Bridei has forbidden entrance to anyone else today”, said a man with a deep, gruff voice. Probably a guard posted outside the room. If she’d known he was there, she might have called to him. Maybe he would have talked to her and she could have learned something useful. And maybe he could have scooted that sheepskin rug under her aching rear end.
The next voice was feminine, melodic, and very comforting. Maternal.
“Nonsense, Dru, you know I’m an exception to the rule. He would want me to speak with the lass. He already sent for me, but I was away in Oran, attending a birth. I just returned not an hour ago.”
The guard mumbled something that Nessa couldn’t make out, then the door opened with a creak and a whoosh of air, and the woman all but glided into the room. She was tall and graceful. Only her stark white hair and a few wrinkles around her eyes gave away her age. She was dressed in a long, red gown of sorts, belted at the waist. The buckle of the belt was golden, and in the shape of what could have either been a dragon or a sea serpent. More gold hung from the belt in the form of shining chains. It was obvious that she was either wealthy or important…or perhaps both.
The woman’s gaze landed on Nessa, where she was still bound to the pole in the center of the room, mere inches from the sheepskin, and a world away from the comfy looking bed near the window. Nessa shifted her weight and watched her warily—hopefully—waiting for the woman to speak. She desperately needed someone on her side if she was going to eventually escape and get home to Gram before she passed. The nurses had said it could be any time now. Thinking about Gram made the ever-present panic buzz closer to the surface, so she ruthlessly shoved all thoughts of home to the back of her mind. Instead, she decided to concentrate on learning anything she could from her visitor.
The woman crouched down to look at her more closely, touching her cheek softly. “Ah, but you’re lovely”, she said with a gentle smile. “I am Meara. Welcome, lass.”
Nessa wasn’t quite sure what to say in return. Meara had said ‘welcome’ as if she had just arrived at a dinner party and they were old friends that hadn’t seen each other in a long time.
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m tied to a post. I don’t think that really says ‘welcome’.” She pulled at the ropes to demonstrate. “Will you untie me? Please?”
Meara shook her head, her lips turning down in a sympathetic frown. “I can’t. But I’m sure he’ll untie you, eventually.”
“Who? Bridei?”
She nodded. “The King is very cautious, especially these days. Your appearance was unexpected. Unforeseen, even by me.” She paused, resting a thumb thoughtfully on her chin. “Well, no. That’s not entirely true.” She moved to Nessa’s side, raising her hand to finger a strand of her long, sun-streaked hair. “You have the coloring of the Gaels, or perhaps the Britons. Where did I hear you are from?”
“Fife?” Damn, she hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question. “Fife”, she said more firmly, trying to sound more certain.
The woman looked bemused. “Ah yes, Fife. So you’ve come a long way.”
If only you knew, Nessa thought. “What’s going to happen to me?” The question almost stuck in her throat. She’d had lots of time to think, tied to this post for hours, and the way she saw it, she would either be released after the misunderstanding—because she wasnota spy—was cleared up, or they would end up punishing her because itwasn’tcleared up. Bridei wasn’t known for his friendliness or his mercy; that much was in the records.
Tears threatened, tightening the back of her throat. Nessa swallowed hard. “I don’t want to die. I don’t deserve to die. I haven’t done anything. Me being here at all is just an accident.”
Meara smiled and smoothed her hair back from her face, just the way her grandmother always had when she was upset. Nessa fought the sudden urge to lean into her touch and take comfort where she could.
