Tavish had provided them with a hooded cloak each. Lindsey tried not to think about where they’d come from. She’d stood outside the tumbledown cottage with its thatched roof rotten and slumped to ground level in places.
When Tavish pushed open the door she caught a glimpse of a skeletal foot before turning away, trying not to retch from the smell. He came back out a moment later with two cloaks, passing one to her.
“What happened in there?” She asked.
He shrugged. “They’re dead, looked like the work of the English tae me.”
“Dead? Doesn’t anyone care?”
“Since Margaret died the English dart north and kill any they find on their travels. We need the clans tae come together to stop the slaughter of innocents.”
“They didn’t get you though.”
“I ken where to hide. Ah warned them two to run but they wouldnae listen and now they’ve paid the price. Now put the cloak on, we want tae stay hidden.”
He threw the hood over his head. Lindsey looked down at the heavy dark wool in her hand. There was a hint of the odor of decay drifting from it.
“I don’t know if I can wear this.”
He glared from under his cloak. “You wear it.” His voice was dangerously low. “Now let’s move.”
They continued north with Lindsey wondering if she’d made a mistake in agreeing to this. He was scaring her but she had to admit the cloak was keeping her warm and protecting her modesty better than the length of tartan across her chest.
It had been stolen from the dead by someone who seemed indifferent to the two bodies he’d encountered, people he’d once known by the sound of it.
She tried to shut her mind, pulling the hood further over her head. She’d made a decision, there was no point doing that if she was going to back out as soon as the first problem came along.
She wore her sneakers, but they were coated in mud within half a mile of setting off and soon looked no different to Tavish’s boots.
Her feet began to ache as she traveled north, the blisters on her feet growing so sore she found herself limping the further the day wore on. She could have been home safe and sound, soaking her feet in hot water.
She almost laughed. What hot water? The electric had been cut off at the house.
What was she going back to anyway? Without knowing where the locket was hidden, there didn’t seem much point in going back to her own time.
She found herself watching Tavish as he marched ahead of her. He was like a machine, never tiring, never pausing for breath. He just kept going. He didn’t even stumble when they passed through a swampy morass of mud, Lindsey falling far behind. The guy was inhuman.
At last, she had no choice. “Wait,” she said, so far back he was almost out of sight. In the distance “I need to rest.”
He looked back, his eyebrows raising. “Does no one march in your time?”
“Not like this,” she replied as he headed back to where she’d stopped. “When people walk in my time, they do it for fun.”
“For fun?”
“For pleasure. For recreation, you know?”
“People walk for enjoyment?” He ran his hand through his hair while shaking his head. “Not to get somewhere?”
“Well, sometimes. But we have cars and buses too if we want to get somewhere far.” She saw the confused look on his face. “Like carriages but faster.”
“With more horses, you mean?”
“Something like that. We can get going again if you like. Just please go a little slower.”
“Another hour and we’ll stop for the night. There’s a hamlet not far from here. We may be able to scavenge some food there too.”
“Scavenge? Why scavenge, why not buy?”
