Chapter 7 Alexandria
ALEXANDRIA
Icame conscious after a time, still on the stairs, with Torin kneeling in front of me, leaning on my knees, holding my hands. “Ye hae swooned.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry, Torin. How long was I out?”
“Nae long.”
I looked around cautiously, “Swooning sounds pretty dainty, that was kinda passing out. Did I scare you?”
“I wasna scared, but I am verra concerned.”
“I’m really sorry about that. This was a lot.”
My eyes settled on the letter. “Is that from my mother?”
“Aye, I believe so, Alexandria, ye ought tae read it.”
I shook my head. “I can’t, not yet, it’s too… I need to be ready, I’m not ready. As evidenced by me passing out on the steps from the sight of it.”
He nodded.
I said, “Are you okay with that?”
“Nae,” he shook his head, “sometimes ye must do what ye daena want tae do.”
I exhaled. “Damn, is this our first argument?”
He scoffed. “Ye mean this wee disagreement? Nae, this is not our first argument. Ye hae been verra unreasonable before, I hae had many reasons tae argue with ye, all up and down the roads of Alba.”
“Very funny. I meant since we’ve been married.”
He chuckled. “If tis a distinction that is important tae ye, then aye, this is our first argument since we were married a few hours ago.” Then he softened.
“But I am not goin’ tae argue with ye, not over this.”
“Good, I will read it, I just… I need to gather my strength.”
His brow drew down. “Dost ye want me tae pack it back intae the chest?”
“No, let’s keep it out, it’s fine, don’t repack anything. I’m just going to go downstairs while you’re out feeding the horses.”
He stood up and then I stood up. I brushed off my pants.
I looked behind me up at the attic. “I’m just going to turn off the lights, I’ll deal with it later. But I would like the prayer book…”
He said, “I will grab it.”
While I stared at the letter, upside down, wax seal up, on the step, he climbed up the stairs and ducked into the attic, returning a moment later with the prayer book, the family Bible and a small stack of other papers I hadn’t seen yet. He held them out.
I took the prayer book. “Can you bring the rest downstairs for me? I just don’t even want to be tempted, not yet.”
He nodded, picking up the letter off the steps.
“Have these always been in the chest? Wait, don’t talk about it, I don’t want to think about it.”
“What are ye going tae do now?”
“I’m thinking I could look up this Lady Gail person.”
We began walking down the stairs.
He looked thoughtful, then asked, “What dost ye mean, ye will ‘look her up’? She was alive a long time ago, I believe, and we are far away from Scotland. Ye told me twas a great distance.”
I said, “Remember when we looked things up on the computer at dinner that night — when you were here? Like that. I’m going to do some research.”
He said, “Good, I will put this here tae the side.” He placed the ‘things I couldn’t deal with’ in a small stack on a table in the hallway, kissed me on the temple, and went through the side door to the stable yard.
I went into my hobby room and sat down in front of my computer, and opened the prayer book to the yellowed page, having forgotten what Torin told me the Latin meant, of course. What was I looking for?
I used the computer to decipher the Latin, promising myself I would learn Latin as soon as I learned Scottish Gaelic.
First, I looked up the castle. It was named Kilchurn and was on the edge of Loch Awe and was now a ruin, which was unsettling. The building had collapsed but somehow I had a book from someone who had once lived there. A long, long time ago. Then I searched for Lady Gail and found her on Wikipedia.
At the top:
Lady Gail Campbell,
Duchess of Awe (1624 – 1671)
The page was short — just a few paragraphs, a small crest, and an image someone uploaded of an oil portrait of her that was too pixelated.
I read out loud, “Lady Gail of Awe… wife of Duncan Campbell, 3rd Duke of Awe… maintained residence at Kilchurn Castle until her death in 1671.”
I blinked.
This book was so old. I counted on my fingers, more than three hundred years. I was marveling at the age of it when I remembered Torin was even older.
Whoa.
I looked down at the prayer book on the desk beside me — its cracked leather cover and gilded edges making it look very loved, oft used.
If my father was the Duke of Awe, was this one of my ancestors?
But the castle was a ruin, had been for centuries — how was it possible that he lived there?
Time travel kept being the only explanation.
I sighed and scrolled further. Names appeared, but most of them didn’t have links as if they were unimportant.
No mention of me, of course. Nothing about a child disappearing, nothing about a girl who would someday wake up in North Carolina in 1986.
No talks of kingdoms or princesses.
At the bottom, there was one more line:
Pray for my soul, and for the Royal House of Awe,
that eternal light may shine upon us for ever and ever,
and that we may remain safe and protected from every storm.
The same line that was in the front pages of the prayer book.
I leaned back in my chair, the glow of the monitor pale against the darkened hobby room. Outside, I could hear the faint whicker of a horse, Torin’s low voice talking to them, carried to me on the breeze.
I looked again at the open prayer book, the Latin words inked more than three centuries earlier by a woman I suddenly, inexplicably, felt I might have known — or had been loved by.
If she was my ancestor from my royal side of the family, truly, how did her book end up here, how had this been included in my chest?
It had been in a hidden place. A place I never noticed, was it new? Or had I just been that clueless? What had my mother known?
I whispered the name under my breath, “Lady Gail Campbell… Duchess of Awe.” If my real father had been a Duke of Awe, this could be a great-grandmother.
I pulled the prayer book close and began carefully turning the pages. They were crowded with Latin verses in a looping script written in ink faded to sepia. There were little notes in the margins. One said:
Amen
another:
Remember to tell him of Amelia
On another page a note that I didn’t understand:
Meet him in Mhuc-àird
Oh every other page were small drawings of what looked like saints, and a border of decorative thistles outlined the Psalms.
A few pages in I found the year 1308 written in the corner, the ink was darker, maybe added later with a different pen.
There was a wax stain where a candle must have dripped.
I remembered the low light of the rooms in Scotland and thought how difficult it must have been to have read such small writing.
I closed it and looked at the edge, the pages were gilded, but had been well used, corners were down, a few little pieces of paper peeking out of the leaves. I pushed the book from me, I would need to really go through it, soon.
I went and stuck my head out of the door, “Torin! Want something to drink, Diet Coke?”
“Och nae, anythin’ but the devil drink.”
“Want ice water?”
“Aye, did ye finish lookin’ up Lady Gail?”
“Yeah, and looking through the book, too, got thirsty.”
I returned to the kitchen and pulled down two glasses, I filled them both with ice, and one with water.
When I carried it out to him, I found him staring up at the sky.
I followed his eyes. “What do you see?”
“A clear sky, but a shadow just crossed over me, did ye feel it?”
He scanned the horizon, with his hand resting on the hilt of his dirk.
He looked tense like that day on the riverbank, when he saw men approach long before I could see them.
I glanced up at the guard, oblivious on the front porch, but at least he was there, armed.
Torin was on guard. I stood quietly, muttering a prayer in my head.
He said, “Back up tae the house.”
I backed up, carrying his glass, fumbling at the doorknob and pushing into the kitchen. Then I stood there petting Dude, watching the door, until Torin followed, slowly climbing the steps to the house, staring around the lawn and the trees, beyond
“What was it?”
“I daena ken, but I daena believe yer guards are the right sort of guards for a princess. They barely noticed the shadow crossin’ over yer lands.”
“In their defense,” I said, “they think they’re protecting a nice American girl from normal danger. They have no idea they’re defending a princess from time-traveling villains.”
“They ought tae be better at it, whatever walls they’re defendin’. Dost they even do drills? Practice sparrin’?” He gave me a ghost of a smile. “Hae ye ever seen them toss a caber?”
“What’s a caber?”
“A log.”
I laughed. “Then no. I’ve never seen them toss a caber. Mostly I see them stand around, then take breaks to eat. It must be really boring.”
He shrugged. “Guardin’ inna borin’. Ye just hae tae clear yer mind. Tis a duty. Ye do it tae keep yer loved ones safe.”
“Yeah, well, mine do it for money,” I said. “That’s why they break for lunch.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Makes more sense now. They are nae loyal tae yer banner, just a blade for hire.”
I glanced at him. “Thanks for making me laugh and keeping it light though, I was starting to spiral. That was freaky, even though I don’t know what it is that’s so bad. What would you do if we were in Scotland right now?”
He gave me a sad smile. “If we werna in a stronghold with a proper guard, likely I would be arguin’ ye ontae Lambo and Ferrari so we could get somewhere safer.”
“Well, I don’t think we need to leave. It was just a cloud over the sun.”
He said, “Likely.”
I passed him his drink. “This is the thing about us, you are always having to talk me into getting on the horse to go.”
“Ye are verra set in yer ways and nae quick tae move.”
I smiled, “True that, come to find out I’m a princess, maybe this is just the way I am. Or maybe, I’m hoping you’ll throw me over your shoulder and carry me off. That was really hot last night.” I filled my glass with Diet Coke.
We drank and I petted dude who was walking around on the table.
Torin said, “I need tae go walk around the house, twas unsettlin’.”
“Can I come with?”
“I daena think so, I need tae go check. Ye will be alright, ye will be able tae see me from the window.”
I said, “Yeah, of course, you’re not going on a nice walk but on guard duty.”
“Aye.”
“Don’t go too far.”
He said, “I winna.”
He kissed me, took me by the hand and led me toward the front room, pulling back the curtain. “For yer viewin’.”
He petted Dude and said, “Keep watch,” and left.
I sat on the couch and peered around the curtain as Torin walked across the porch and out to the lawn.
I ran my hands over my face.
The room was calm, the light from the window golden and soft and for a moment, the silence was absolute.
Then, beneath it, came a whisper: faint, feminine, close enough to stir the hairs at the back of my neck. It’s going to be alright, Alexandria…you will be alright.
I felt like someone nudged me.
My breath caught. Mommy?
I looked behind me.
Was someone there?
I felt as if I had never heard that voice before, was it a dream?
But the voice felt familiar, like it came from deep within my heart — more like a memory.
I wanted to listen to it again, but a second later, I couldn’t recall it.
I was desperate to recall it. I wanted to be there again hearing it, wherever it was…
But it was gone, I was just, as Torin said, unsettled.
I looked back, he was walking along the woods on the south side of my land.
I sipped from my glass of Diet Coke and thought about the letter. I should read the letter, shouldn’t I read the letter?
I went back and forth, nothing good came of not reading it.
Except peace of mind.
Nothing good came of reading it.
Except knowledge.
I sighed and left my perch to go to the table where there was the stack, the prayer book, the family Bible, and the letter on top.
I looked down at it, feeling very sad.