Chapter 4 #2
“I think we have enough potatoes now to try making bread,” the healer said as he stopped by the garden he had made from the strange plants that sometimes appeared, thanks to the birds that brought inside them seeds from the outside world.
“Assuming we can grind the oats to a flour consistency, and the sourdough starter I’ve been culturing actually works.
” He crouched down to arrange some straw.
“I miss rolls so much. And sandwiches, too.”
“I dinnae ken why,” Ulf told him. “Doon makes very fine oat cakes and bread. I dinnae wish eat anything made of sand or witches. And why should you want it cooked from those great brown lumpy roots? Uglier veg never I’ve seen, even in the lowlands.”
“Wait until I make you potato chips, Mr. Snacky,” Ben countered. “You’ll worship me forever.”
“No arguing now, lads. ’Tis a matter I wished speak on with you both.” Elspeth put her hand on the healer’s arm. “Benedict, if our lord and lady find the means to release us and Dun Talamh from the curse, do you reckon you’ll return to your time?”
“We’re not sure what will happen to the outsiders once we’re freed,” he admitted. “But if the broken enchantment resets time along with returning us to our realities, then it’s a possibility that I will.”
“Do you wish us join you in your modern world?” the hunter asked. “For ’tisnae my wish to live in such a country as you’ve described to me.” He made a disgusted sound and gripped the hilt of the sword sheathed on his belt. “How can men survive without carrying blades or spears?”
“Very peacefully,” Ben said, and chuckled.
“I would be safer in his world, Hunter,” she reminded Ulf. “Lady Ava claims in her time slavery, ’tis no more.”
“That’s not precisely true.” The healer reached down and plucked a flower from one of the plants, tucking it in her hair. “I suppose she’s right in the general sense.”
He always tried to spare her the worst of the truths he knew. “Tell me how ’tisnae true, then.”
He grimaced. “In the modern world slavery still takes place in some countries. People are sold to others as spouses, concubines or chattels, and several governments still conscript the unwilling to serve as soldiers. Despite laws in my country protecting people from enslavement, there’s still illegal sexual slavery, forced labor, bondage due to debts and other terrible things. ”
She didn’t understand half of the words he used, but his meaning came across very clear. “’Tis possible I may yet be made a slave in your time, then?”
“Not as long as I live, my lady,” Ulf assured her. “Nor would Benedict allow such.”
“I ken you’d protect me with all your might if we go and remain together.
” Elspeth took hold of their hands. “Only when we’re released, the broken enchantment may scatter us.
If ’tis simply location, then mayhap Ulf and I shall return to the highlands in Scotland, but Ben would go to California in America.
Or we may be returned to our proper times as well, which means none of us shall stay together. ”
“As long as I know the two of you have each other somewhere in time, then that would be enough for me,” Ben said slowly. “If I could be sure of that, I would be all right with living alone in my time.”
“He’s ever ready to sacrifice himself for our love,” Ulf said, his disgust plain.
“Why dinnae we seek a method that shall keep us together no matter what becomes of this place and the enchantment? Surely ’tis some spell…
” He stopped and stared at Ben. “The armorer’s stone permitted us speak to each other in our heads.
Mayhap he possesses something that shall bind the three of us together. ”
Elspeth knew some of the whispers about Rory, and how he was the only McKeran able to wield magic.
She’d also recalled the old gossip about his limited powers, which went back to the time when she had first blundered into the spell trap.
The talk was that the laird had begged the armorer to see if he could break the enchantment imprisoning them.
Supposedly he had tried with all his might, but his effort had failed.
Something had happened to him from making the attempt that kept him abed for weeks, but none of the McKeran would speak of such.
“Mayhap we should first see to our wedding, so we’ve a reason to stay together,” she suggested lightly. “I’m willing to speak to Lady Ava, if you two shall brace our lord on the matter.”
“I’m still not clear on what the wedding is,” Ben admitted. “Do we have to have a ceremony like the last one?”
“We’ve but to stand up before the clan, the vassals and our friends from the modern world, and declare we are wife and husbands,” Elspeth assured him. “Since the last binding ceremony, ’twas ended early because of the attack, we’ve the right to finish it.” She hoped.
“Gathering them, ’tis the vexing part of the matter.” Ulf rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Should we ask the laird to command all to attend us on the morrow?”
She cringed at the thought. “’Tis better to wait until something happens to cause such an assembly.”
The sound of a watcher’s horn blasted through the stillness, and Ben turned to stare in the direction of the walls. “I think something just did.”
Confusion and resentment hounded Darro as he watched Sawney McKeran escorting Esme from the back of the stronghold, walking with her back toward the kitchens.
The fact that they had seemed to be deep in conversation aggravated him; why had she gone out walking with the guard?
Had she some reason to speak to him? Sawney had come from the east, Darro dimly remembered, and until they had been cursed had provided for a mortal family still living there.
Among the garrison he was well-liked, and many called him a friend.
That was all Darro knew about him, for he had never been close to any of his hundreds of half-brothers.
He outranked Sawney, so if he summoned the guard and ordered him to repeat their conversation he would, but that would prove too telling.
Forget them. Go and tell Tasgall about the old man on the other side of the barrier.
Darro went to report to the laird, only to find Tasgall had retired for the night.
Alec and Farlan had done the same, and what senior men remained on duty were occupied with patrols and watches.
He had no one to tell about the old bastart he’d seen unless he disturbed or hunted them down, and that added to his aggravation.
For a time he paced the length of the passages in the garrison hall, knowing what he had seen through the spell trap’s enchanted barrier could not change anything.
But he also knew he needed to leave that decision to the laird.
He strode back to the stronghold and took the stairs to Tasgall’s bedchamber.
But as he approached its double doors, he could hear voices.
Perhaps his brother and wife were not yet asleep.
He raised his fist to the door but suddenly stopped at the sound of a muffled moan.
Careful not to let his momentum carry him forward, he swayed for a moment and then quickly he backed into the wall across from the bedchamber.
Before he could hear more, he retreated back down the passage.
So Tasgall would have me serve as example to our brothers? What of the laird? The man is closeted with his woman every night and sometimes during the day.
Darro harrumphed and came to a stop at the top of the stairs, then glanced over his shoulder. Maybe he would go knock. But as he thought it, he grimaced. He didn’t begrudge Tasgall or any of his brothers their happiness.
Slowly, he took a deep breath. He could safely report all in an hour’s time.
As he descended the stairs, the tightness in his shoulders began to ease. But as it did, thoughts of the laird vanished from his mind only to be replaced by what truly plagued him. Esme and her sweet, womanly wee body refused to leave his thoughts.
Why does she haunt me thus? I gave her pleasure. I’ve done the same for half the females who serve the clan.
The brief, passionate encounter with the wee lass had been wholly unexpected.
His hands still throbbed with the tactile memory of holding her tight, soft wee arse.
Gods, that he had touched her so intimately and she’d only wanted more.
He could yet remember too how delicious and firm her chebs had been, pressed against his chest. When she had exploded with bliss he’d experienced a deep, abiding gratification, as if he’d achieved some great feat.
She enjoyed herself, thanks to me.
What made no sense to him was the dread that filled him every time he looked at her.
It only grew worse when she touched him.
This kiss she’d bestowed on his hand had chased it away, thanks to the passion that exploded inside him, but then it came back worse than before the heady embrace.
Thanks to his duties he didn’t often have the time to spend with a female, and it had been almost a year since he’d shared his bed.
Yet giving pleasure to a lass had never frightened him.
Why does she make me so afraid?
With her gone, the fear disappeared as well.
Now everything inside him made him long to go to the guest room, kick in the door and give her that kiss she had asked him to bestow while he brought her to pleasure again.
He ached to kiss her mouth and chebs until she wept with joy.
Aye, and use his tongue on her hot wee quim while she watched him lick her, and then play with her with his fingers.
As much as he desired her, he expected he would use his mouth on her for the remainder of the night, and through the dawn, and into the next day.
Yet what gave him pause was the reason that he still feared her.
’Tis her delicacy, mayhap. If I touch her in passion some part of me dreads I’ll snap her thin bird bones with my brutish hands.