Knight's Legacy (4 page)

“I won't do this! My name is Catherine Terril! Help me find the strange dude that brought me here, and I'll leave. You don't understand. I'm from another time and place!”

“Another time?” Calum laughed derisively. “Do ye fly with the fairies too?”

Angus smiled at his father. “She must have wandered off from her clan. Graham thinks her bewitched, or mad.”

“Mad … but she be fair enough to stir the bastard's lust! Aye, she will do. You leave her be! It will be my joy to dupe the King and his English lap dog! Lock her up! She's to get no food or drink until she agrees!”

The older man dismissed them with a sweep of his hand.

Angus took Cat to a small, cold room that was bare of furniture. There was one tiny window covered with a leather skin. When he bolted the door behind him, she went to the window to pull back the skin and let a small bit of light flood the room. She was still damp and uncomfortable, cold and thirsty, but at least her confusion and fear had been alleviated somewhat since they reached the castle.

There was no sign of the twenty-first century. She was a time traveler.

Cat had a strong sense of adventure. The experience could be invaluable, and she was intrigued. But still, she had to be cautious. She was also a woman they all thought mad. That could be a problem.

Cat heard footsteps and a few moments later the tall brute with the red hair returned. He had a thin adolescent boy with him.

“This be Kenneth. He will guard ye. He is a mute, so don't think he can go anywhere for help. He hears us, but we dinnae ken he understands. He is fey. Touched. So ye should get along well.” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “I will sharpen your wee weapon, lass. I'll use it to slice my bread from the kitchens. If ye ask me sweetly and give me a kiss, mayhap I will return it to ye. The sooner ye agree, the sooner we can be together. We have a bit of time before your marriage.” He gazed at her mouth.

“Don't hold your breath! I'd rather crawl over broken glass!”

Angus leaned forward with a look of icy resentment. “So be it! Let the Norman bastard tame ye! He's welcome to ye!”

He shoved the boy into the room and bolted the door behind him. Cat was alone with the young lad who could not have been more than sixteen, with bright red hair. He sat down by the wall and watched her silently.

“So, it's true? You can't speak?”

The boy's blue eyes were expressive, bright, and shining. Cat sniffed and shook her head. She rubbed her arms up and down as she paced.

“I can't say I blame you, son. No one here would listen if you could. It's freezing in here. I take it they don't intend to feed me, either. Food I don't miss right now, but oh … what I wouldn't give for a drink of water.”

She worked her hands through her hair in an attempt to dry it. She touched her swollen cheek cautiously and continued to pace.

“Old Graham packs quite a wallop, but then, you probably know that from experience. Pardon me while I pace.”

She took a deep breath and was silent for a time. The boy watched her as though she were an animal he had never seen.

“A swollen cheek is the least of my problems, Kenneth. You see, I'm having a really rotten day. This morning I'm working at my job, minding my own business in Scotland and then like that!” she snapped her fingers, “my own personal magician slash travel agent appears! Merlin the Monk. Sounds like a bad rock group. Of course, you don't know what a rock group is. Too bad. You would think they were cool, just like everyone else your age. Anyway, Merlin the Monk tells me to follow the mist. I open the door and land in another century. Not only do I almost drown, I lose my sword to Mister Personality in the kilt!”

She stopped pacing and smiled at Kenneth.

“Wish you could have seen it, Kenneth. He took my sword, and I nailed him with a roundhouse kick right in the nuts! I'm sure that old boy felt like singing soprano for a couple of minutes. It wasn't enough! Damn, I loved that sword! It was custom-built to fit my hand. If I had been able to breathe, I'd have had a chance at fighting them. I'm not certain, though. It's not like I have a director to yell ‘cut' when I've had enough. You notice, I'm avoiding the only subject I should be worrying about. Like, what the hell am I going to do?”

She turned to him and shook her head. “I don't know. I don't know, Kenneth.”

The young man smiled brightly when she spoke his name.

“I suppose it's my persistent curiosity. I wanted adventure. Let's think for a moment. What was it Angus said? What was it he said? Who was the King of England? If he told me to be Princess Joan, sister of King Henry of England, I would be it or he would kill me. Princess Joan?” She put her hands to her temples.

“Think, Cat, think! Princess Joan married King Alexander the second. She's Henry's sister. He married her in an effort to make peace with England. Alexander the second died in 1249. That means I'm here in Scotland somewhere between 1200 and 1249.” She leaned her head against the stone wall and heaved a sigh.

“Medieval Scotland. I always wanted to live in the time of chivalry, but let's think about it. No cars. No hot showers, no room service, which believe me, I could use right now. No carry-out pizza. No modern medicine. Now, that's a good one. No phones, no fax, no computers. Be careful what you wish for, Kenneth. You may get it. I'm going to miss my job.”

She turned to glance at the boy. “I was exceptionally good at it. I trained and worked hard physically to do those stunts. Anything they came up with, I tried. I broke my collarbone once on a covered wagon stunt. David pushed me to do the fencing work after that happened. The work with the swords … now, that was fun.”

She stretched and put a hand to the small of her back.

“Angus has an adequate weapon in that knee he put in my back. I feel kind of rough. As my daddy used to say, ‘like I've been rode hard and put up wet.' “

She sat down wearily on the cold stone floor, and watched the shadows of the sun going down for a long while, then moved carefully to the only patch of sunlight on the floor. It did little to warm her.

Cat barely slept the long night, and was grateful for a crude iron pot with a lid in the corner of the room. She relieved herself discreetly after the boy dozed off to sleep.

The following day, just as the sun came up, they heard sounds of a battle. Kenneth became agitated and frightened, and Cat was concerned herself. She heard the horrible sounds of men screaming.

Eventually, she was left alone when someone came to fetch Kenneth. Late that evening, he returned with a small wooden cup of water. She drank it and thought it the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted.

“Bless you, Kenneth.”

She sat in silence for a while, then, grateful that at least the sounds of the battle had ceased when the sun had gone down, she spoke again.

“I wonder how long I have before they kill me. I'll wager it won't be long. I don't plan to be their surrogate daughter and marry anyone! Can you imagine what kind of man they want to pawn me off on? If he's their enemy, it means there's a distinct possibility he's even more ‘charming' than they are. It boggles the mind, Kenneth.”

She tossed some of the thick curls of her hair behind her shoulder, and she smiled at the boy who watched her intently.

“It's funny, what you think of when you may face your own death. No one I know and love exists now, so I can't even say good-bye. My dad …”

She took a ragged breath and exhaled. She did her best to clamp down on her emotions, and she put her head on her knees. It would serve no purpose to give in to tears or fear, and she needed her wits about her.

Cat felt a slight pat on her shoulder, and looked up at the boy. He stroked her hair, his eyes troubled. He looked at her with such deep empathy and caring, Cat wanted to hug him.

“You're a good boy, Kenneth.”

They both turned at the sound of the key working the lock on the door. The heavy bolt slid back, and an old woman in a dark-brown woolen shift came into the room.

Cat stood up and moved back defensively while she studied the older woman. Kenneth shook his head and smiled at Cat reassuringly.

He reached up and touched her face with the back of his fingers in a motion down from her cheek. He also beckoned to the older woman to approach them.

Her long gray hair was tied back and neatly plaited. There were bruises on her face. Her eyes were a lovely hazel color.

“He be tryin' to tell ye to have no fear of me, lass. Kenneth has his own way. He watches people. He must like ye fine if he reaches out to touch ye. He fears most, an willnae let them close. I've raised the boy. My name is Edna. So, tell me, should I fear ye? Be ye truly mad?”

Cat smiled at the woman's forthright question. She shook her head. “No. I'm not mad.”

The old woman stepped forward and took Cat's hand.

“Listen to me, lass. I want to save your life. He will kill ye do ye not agree to pretend to be my Brianna. I heard him talking. The Norman at our gates be verra favored by our King. He's given him the lands to keep Brianna safe and punish the Mackay, who be a murderin' thief. He's robbed and killed so many, the clans to the north and south have gone to the King to demand justice. They've all tried to kill him and avenge their own, but he is crafty and has the power of a ghost for gettin' away. The Englishmon has five hundred warriors with him, and he has Mackay now like a rat in a hole. The pardon spared their lives, but the warriors be condemned to life as renegades. Thus, some were determined to fight. All but twenty of Mackay's men are dead. They did number to a hundred. Montwain has nothin' to lose or go back to, for the Saxons killed his family. He wants this marriage for the lands. The King is indebted to him. He be a fightin' mon of honor.

“Calum Mackay cares naught for the women and children of our clan. They have been starvin' of late. Montwain's men fed them before the battle. He wanted a marriage celebration, not a bloodbath. Now that Mackay's army is crippled, he sent another message. He wants an end to the fightin' and is still willing to wed. He must be a kind mon. Dinnae be afraid to agree to marry him. Ye shall come to less harm than being a prisoner of the Mackay.”

Cat pulled away and crossed her arms. “Where is the real Brianna?”

Edna dropped her gaze as if ashamed.

“This be on my head. I helped my little lamb, my Brianna … get away to be with young Alastair. Angus wouldnae ha' taken ye if he had a choice. Tell me, lass. Do ye have family that will come for ye?”

Cat sighed heavily, and shook her head. “No. There is no one.”

“How did ye come to be on our land?”

Cat's mind raced for a plausible lie. “I had to leave my … clan. I hit my head in the water. It addled me. I don't remember much before Angus dragged me out of the stream.”

Edna nodded in sympathy. “They are pardoned by the King if Brianna marries the Norman. Mayhap in time I can sneak ye away. Ye have no choice. Montwain gives Mackay only one more night. I dinnae want your blood on my hands. Make no mistake, he has no fear of God's vengeance for killin' a woman. Ye will die do ye not agree to wed on the morn.”

Cat's thoughts turned to the immediate hope of finding the time portal. It was not just the hope of possibly going home. She faced the fact that she might never find it, might be forever trapped in this time. It didn't matter. She still wanted to live. Desperately.

“I agree.”

The older lady sighed in relief. “Good, lass. I now have an hour or two. We will spend them together, you and I. I will tell ye all I know of Brianna. Ye must pretend for only a bit. We will hope to steal ye away any way we can after we see the last of Calum and his band of thieves. Come, I will get ye some food. You need dry things and a bath.”

Cat slept surprisingly well that night. She was given a comfortable room, and a light meal of bread, cheese, and fruit. The next morning her ordeal began, and she spent the first part of the day being primped until she was weary of it. Her hair was washed, combed, and curled.

Edna sent for a woman named Mary, who was told of the plot to deceive Montwain.

Marry scoffed as she glanced about before she spoke. “That devil Mackay will slip away again. 'Tis forever his way. Don't fret, lass. I have met Montwain. He is handsome, and kind. Ye may decide to stay once your eye rests on him. I never seen such a tall, wide-shouldered mon. I begged him for mercy for Kenneth. He told me, Edna, that he willnae kill women and children, and I vow he dinnae lie. I pledged him my loyalty. I pray he kills Mackay.”

Edna quieted Mary in a hushed, frightened tone. Mackay always had his spies about the castle.

Cat was given a long silk undergarment that fell to her feet. It was a white chainse. Over it she wore a gown that Edna called a bliaut. It was deep green with a golden belt to hold a dagger. Ladies carried them to use as their eating utensils. Still, she was a prisoner and was given no knife that could be a used as a weapon.

“The gown is lovely,” Cat said.

“Calum sent me to fetch it. It was one of Elizabeth's gowns. He wants you to look your best for the Norman.”

Mary sat carefully fashioning a garland of flowers for Cat's hair, which fell in a glorious mass down her back.

“I have never seen such a pretty color. 'Tis not dark brown, or fire red, but a mix of the two.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Cat said.

“ 'Tis time to go downstairs. He's waiting. Remember, child, to answer only to Brianna,” Edna cautioned.

Cat nodded solemnly and picked up her long skirts. She hoped she could grow accustomed to such clothing. She glanced at herself in a mirror they held for her, and thought she really did look pretty. The gown could have been one from the wardrobe department on the film.

I suppose, Carter, I'll see what kind of actress I can be,
she thought as she stared at her reflection.