Chapter Nine

For Veronica, the next two weeks were filled

with mindfulness, meditation, Gaelic lessons, sleeping, eating,

drinking, and exercising her martial arts skills. She was familiar

with several forms of martial arts, but was a master in Kalari—one

of the oldest, most ancient forms of battlefield warfare still in

existence. Kalari, or Kalaripayattu, heralded from 600 B.C. in the

matriarchal Indian province of Kerala. She had been trained under a

female master in Los Angeles until she herself had become one. She

wondered what fate had befallen Master Anjali; she didn’t know if

it was kinder to wish that she’d died before the dead began

reanimating or kinder to hope she was still out there, a survivor

of Armageddon.

She glanced at the laptop screen as she

practiced her weapons training that was part and parcel of Kalari.

Still no Victor. She wondered what was keeping him away from his AI

scanner. He was always near the thing. Without Victor being on his

scanner, the laptop did her precious little good.

Speaking of the laptop, every once in a

while the giant warlord she now understood to be Laird Gunn would

make an appearance on her screen. He would stare at her, unsmiling

and unspeaking, as if trying to work her out in his mind. She

supposed she did qualify as something of an anomaly to a warlord in

1155 A.D. She likely had little in common with the women of his

world—a fact she tried not to think too much on.

The laird seemed most fascinated by her

Kalari exercises and training. She found herself performing aerial

moves and gymnastic displays to purposely intrigue him. Such feats

were awe-inspiring spectacles in her time so she could only imagine

what he thought of them in his. Kalari was simultaneously beautiful

and deadly. She knew it made for a stylistic display.

Veronica had decided early on that the shows

were for her benefit as much as his. She wanted Laird Gunn to

realize Kalari was a part of her that was going nowhere—ever. She

wouldn’t be giving it up just because circumstances dictated that

she must leave this world for another one. Hopefully watching her

now would make him realize later that her training was a big part

of who she was. It maintained her both mentally and physically.

The Gaelic lessons were coming along better

than Veronica had expected. Truthfully, the virtual downloads of

the archaic language which Victor had left on the boat for her were

doing most of the heavy-lifting. They worked best if you activated

them at night while sleeping. Her brother told her the brain

absorbs information whether awake or asleep. He’d attempted to

explain why the technology worked best during slumber, but she’d

quickly grown bored and Victor, knowing her “spare me” look better

than anyone, had changed the subject.

“Hi.”

Her mind otherwise occupied with practicing

advanced Kalari techniques, Veronica paid the accented voice little

attention. “Hi,” she said back without looking at the screen.

“I am Lachlan,” he continued in English.

Lachlan. She knew that name. But

why?

“Laird Lachlan Gunn,” the voice

clarified.

Veronica stilled. She released herself from

the warrior pose she’d been holding and slowly turned to face the

screen. It was him. The giant. Her breathing hitched at the sight

of him, though she wasn’t certain why. Her amber curls were in a

ponytail, yet felt too heavy for her head. She absently threw the

ponytail behind her back as she took in the sight of the

warlord.

Her first impression of him had been spot

on. He was breathtaking in his own ruggedly masculine way. Tall,

broad, heavily muscled, dark hair and eyes. Eyes that seemed to be

soaking in her image even more intently than she was taking in his

presence. She’d heard him speak before, but never to her and never

in English. His voice was deep in timbre and just as primally male

as the rest of him. She swallowed a bit roughly. Men just weren’t

made like that in 2075 A.D. Steroids had been banned long ago and

she hadn’t realized it was possible for a man to get that big

without them. She cleared her throat.

“Hello,” she quietly offered in unsteady,

ancient Gaelic. “My name is Veronica.”

He didn’t smile, but his gaze softened at

her first true attempt to speak his tongue. “’Tis a pleasure, Lady

Veronica,” he answered her back in Gaelic. “You are learning my

language I see.”

Lady? She’d think on that later. “I’m

trying.”

“’Tis a boon, that.”

Her forehead furrowed.

“A help,” he slowly explained in Gaelic, “or

a gift.”

She slowly nodded her understanding. Her

heart was fluttering and she didn’t know why. Her reaction to

talking to him made no sense.

They stood there, him on one side of time

and space and her on the other, looking each other over. It was

unnerving and exciting all at once. Truthfully, it was the first

time since the pandemic that she’d been able to lower her guard, if

even just a bit, around another human. She was at sea, no eaters

were around, and this was only virtual. She didn’t have to worry

that he was there to rob her, rape her, or cannibalize her. She

was, for the first time in years, just an ordinary woman facing an

ordinary man. Not that anything about the laird could be thought of

as commonplace. Realizing she was staring, she glanced away and

shook her head a bit to clear it.

“I prefer when you look upon me.”

Her head snapped up. She was better at

understanding Gaelic than previously thought. “I’m sorry,” she

whispered, assuming he just preferred eye contact. Usually she did

as well. Still, she didn’t know what else to say. “How are

you?”

“Well. I am well. How goes your journey to

Scotland?”

“I have no complaints. The sea has been…”

She searched her brain for the right Gaelic word. “…Calm,” she

decided on.

“’Tis a boon, that.”

“True. The calmer the water, the faster I

get to the Highlands.”

The relief that flooded through her made her

feel like crying—something she wasn’t prone towards doing. It took

such a weight off her shoulders to have a normal conversation

without any of the worries the DR-71 virus had introduced into

daily survival. In her world, any interactions with uninfected

humans was akin to putting her existence on the line. Maybe life in

the Middle Ages wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least she’d grow

accustomed to not sleeping with one eye open again. She hoped.

“What ails you?”

The question threw her off guard. She hadn’t

shed a single tear, yet somehow the giant barbarian knew she was

experiencing inner turmoil. “I—” She chose her words carefully.

“—It’s just nice to have a normal conversation with you.”

He nodded. “I enjoy speaking with you as

well.”

She found herself blushing—another thing

Veronica never did. Good grief, what was wrong with her? She was

behaving like an adolescent girl around a male teacher she’d been

crushing on rather than the jaded twenty-nine-year-old that she

was. “Where’s my brother?” she asked, wanting to change the

conversation to a safe topic. And one that made sense to her. “Is

Victor around you?”

“Nay. He is in his bedchamber.”

It took her a protracted moment to

understand his words, but eventually they sunk in. “He has his own

room in your house—I mean castle?”

“Aye. He does.”

She semi-smiled. At least she now knew she

had a room to sleep in when she got there. Assuming this time

travel thing worked twice, she could share a room with her brother.

“Good.” She inclined her head. “Then I will have a place to sleep

in your, uh…” Again, she searched for the right word. “…Keep?”

“Aye.” His gravelly voice deepened and held

a note of…she didn’t know what. “You will be well cared for here,

Lady Veronica. You will be safe, protected, and have a comfortable

place to lay your head.”

She assumed that meant she’d either be

bunking with Victor or getting her own room. The thought cheered

her, made a soft smile form on her lips. “You are kind and

generous.”

He grunted. Her smile faltered.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether ‘kind’ and ‘generous’ are

pleasing attributes for a laird in your world.”

She blinked. Were they not pleasing

attributes in the Middle Ages? Was he supposed to be hard and

merciless at all times? “Of course,” she drawled out. “Don’t you

find kind and generous people pleasant to be around?”

“For a wench, aye. ‘Tis not how I would go

aboot describing a warrior, much less a warlord.”

“I meant no insult,” she quickly assured

him.

His eyes seemed to smile. Veronica wondered

if he ever smiled fully, lips and all. “Well,” she both admitted

and quipped, “thank you for teaching me how to insult men who

displease me in your time.”

His lips curved wryly. Her heartbeat sped

up. It wasn’t a full smile, but she’d take it.

“You are most welcome,” he said, his

expression bemused. “I will try not to displease you.”

She half laughed and half snorted. “You’re

doing a good job so far.”

They stood in silence. His dark gaze raked

over her body, seared it. She’d never felt so self-conscious in her

life. She wanted to continue their conversation, but didn’t know

what else to say. Just like with every other social nicety in her

time, she was very out of practice.

“I-I should go for now,” Veronica hedged.

Luckily, she was as quick on her feet mentally as she was

physically because this man was sucking the thoughts straight out

of her brain. “It’s dinnertime and I’m hungry.”

He slowly nodded. “We will speak again verra

soon.” It was a command, not a question.

“We will.” It was a promise, though she had

no idea why she’d made it.

“Safe travels and good day, Lady

Veronica.”

After dinner in the shower, Veronica

wondered if the laird was still watching her. She doubted it. Why

would he continue watching someone he was no longer speaking with

two hours after their conversation had ended? Certainly he had

laird things to do, whatever that amounted to. Nevertheless, the

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