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Father Eòin pocketed the coin. “How will his family ken tis here?”

Torin said, “I will look for them, when I find them I will tell them.”

I added, “But that might take some time, in the meantime could you… do you have a place where you could write it down?” It had dawned on me that we needed all of this on some kind of historical record.

“I hae parchment, I could note it.”

Torin said, “Good, this is a good idea, Father, ye could note that the casket holds the last vestiges of a man named Archibald. And write our names with it: Laird Torin. Lady Alexandria. So they will ken who left it, but please I urge ye, keep it secure.”

He put the casket into the priest’s hands.

“I will keep it safe, son. The dead hae a right tae their rest, and the living tae their claim.” He added, “Come with me, ye can witness as I place it under lock and key.”

They went together toward the sacristy door.

I stayed by the alcove, staring down at my wedding ring, petting Dude, listening to their hushed conversation from the other room.

37

ALEXANDRIA

1308 - HOT AND BOTHERED ON A HORSE

When Torin returned, alone, his hands were empty.

“Tis done,” he said and he looked relieved. “The priest sat down at his desk and began the note, we are done with getting it somewhere secure. God willin’ Archibald’s family will find it.”

I said, “He knows what to write?”

“Aye, enough, he said he will also note that we were married on this day in the kirk of Clackmannan. So we will be on the permanent record.” He added, “I think he is keen on mentionin’ the cat as well.”

I looked at the cat, and said, “Dude, you’re going to be in a medieval record, that’s going to be wild.”

Torin shouldered the bags, now lighter, and I took his hand. “What now, husband?”

“Now we…” He let his voice trail off as we walked down the nave to the front door.

“What?”

“I canna say it in here as God might be listening.”

I laughed and we hustled out the door, and crossed the kirkyard to our horses before he spoke again. Then he smiled. “Now we are goin’ tae get a room at the inn and I am goin’ tae bed m’wife.”

After the dim of the kirk, the air felt wide and ordinary again, as if the world had not noticed that a man from the sixteenth century and a woman from the twenty-first had just been married inside, or that a casket with the heart of a prince was now hidden behind a locked door.

It had all felt magical in there, reverent and spiritual, but now in the light of the day, things felt sort of real. And I glanced at my husband, big and handsome, and felt very very warm towards him. And I honestly couldn’t wait to be bedded.

The kirkyard sloped away toward the village houses, standing worn and dull in the grass, the Ochils still standing their long watch to the north.

Torin picked up Dude who had followed us out like a good boy, and then started to put him in the saddle bag, but Dude jumped from his arms to the ground and went and stood under and between the horse’s front legs.

Mustang lowered his nose and snorted on the cat’s head. It seemed like they were communicating somehow.

I said, “I think he wants to walk.”

“Fine, ye want tae walk, ye can walk, tis right up the road, but daena get lost, cat, we daena ken what tomorrow holds, we need ye tae stay close.”

Dude gave him an imperious look.