Chapter Nineteen
Abigail sat up with a gasp at the sound of a wrenching scream from outside. With it came the tinkling sounds of metal hitting metal. She reached over to wake Aedan and found the bed cold, only the indentation of his head remained on the pillow, highlighted by the moonlight that streamed through the window.
She started at the sound of more yelling, crying, and the unmistakable sound of someone coming through the secret passage that joined her and Aedan’s room.
“Quick, lass. We’re being attacked by the O’Cain Clan. Ye have to get dressed quickly and follow me. Do what I say when I say it. Do ye understand?”
Abby nodded at Gwen’s harried tone and did as she was asked, pulling on the shift Aedan had stripped from her only hours before. “I didn’t think Aedan was going to fight with them. At least, there’s been talk of war, but nothing confirmed. How is it they’re here?” She quickly grabbed a dark-colored gown from her dresser and turned to Gwen to help her tie the lacings.
“Somehow or another they’ve found out we were to attack. To hit us when we’re at our most vulnerable, in the dark depths of night, shows you what a callous, cowardly clan they are.”
Abigail grabbed a woolen shawl and slipped on the sturdiest boots she had. She thought back to what she’d learned about the clan battles between the MacLeods and O’Cains and one prominent fact stood out more than the rest. This battle that was to take place in 1601 hadn’t occurred at the MacLeod’s castle, but elsewhere. So why had history changed its course? Had her coming back in time, the delaying of Aedan’s attack due to her presence, changed the past?
And what did that mean for the family? Did the O’Cains attacking Druiminn mean Aedan would die this night along with the laird of the O’Cains? History told of many deaths, but a battle that was won by neither side. Would that change as well?
“Hurry, Abigail. They’re coming.”
Dread pooled in her stomach, and a cold chill ran through her blood. “Where’s Aedan?”
“Fighting in the courtyard. He only had enough time to warn the villagers to get their women and children into the hills, where they’d be safe, for the time being. But we must go. Get away from the castle, in case it falls to the O’Cains. Our outcome, should we stay here, isn’t certain.”
Abigail followed Gwen into the musty, dark passage and clasped the back of her friend’s woolen skirt. Not knowing where the hidden corridors went, the last thing she wanted was to get lost in some dank, scary, unknown tunnel. As they ran through the narrow space, down stairs and winding passages, the overwhelming urge to scream every time a spider web brushed her cheek was almost impossible to suppress.
She could hear the sounds of men ransacking the rooms as they broke off from the main fight outside, the bastards searching for possessions and women, no doubt, to take in any way they could.
“Where are we going?”
Gwen kept up her quickened pace, not slowing, even when Abby’s lungs burned.
“My cottage. The one where we first met. There’s a secret room beneath the floor. We’ll hide there until Aedan comes to get us.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Abby didn’t even want to think of such a possibility. To lose Aedan now. The man she loved more than life itself was an unbearable torture she couldn’t face. He was everything to her. Was her future and her past wrapped up in one? “What if they lose?” Even Abby could hear the horror in her voice.
“They won’t. They cannot,” Gwen said.
Abby bit her lip as tears threatened what little vision she had in the dark space. Even to her ears, the resonance of uncertainty tinged Gwen’s tone. “But what is your plan should this happen? You can’t stay here.”
Gwen stopped and she nearly ran into her. “And neither can you.”
“What do you mean?”
A rustle of leaves sounded as Gwen pulled back an ivy vine that hid the opening to the outside. The moon was bright, casting light across the land and the sound of the battle seemed to be coming from behind them. There was a severe drop that led down toward a small inlet, and the tinkling sound of water was at odds to the sound of the battle that echoed in the night.
“This isn’t the easiest climb down, but it’ll be unlikely we’ll be seen leaving from here. Step where I step.”
It took some minutes to climb their way down, some of the rocks and moss made their feet slip. Once they made flat ground they bolted across the grass. Abby looked back at the castle and realized the direction they’d come from was beneath Aedan’s anteroom. Lights blazed from the room, and she wondered what would be left of his home after the O’Cains were gone.
The terrain was uneven, and more than once Abby stumbled. Fear assailed her. The thought that at any moment an arrow could pierce her back, or a lone horseman could knife them, his only goal to kill anyone in his path, threatened a panic attack. She was a twenty-first century woman. She wasn’t used to this type of horror.
They stopped near a tree and hid behind its large trunk, taking a moment to look around to see where the majority of the fighting was taking place. Near the castle gates, men fought vigorously, the twang of metal as sword hit sword, the sudden cry of someone when they fell.
Abby’s stomach turned at the thought of what was happening before her eyes. Shadows shifted not far from them and she tried to meld, become one almost with the tree. Adrenalin coursed through her blood, and as much as she loved this time, being with Aedan, she’d do anything to be back in her own time, safe in her apartment where no medieval clan war could kill her.
Abby thought she saw Aedan in the thick of the battle, but she couldn’t be sure. She did, however, see Gwen’s husband Braxton who seemed to be holding his own, thank God.
“Do you think it’s safe to continue,” Abby asked, hating that her voice sounded as petrified as she felt.
“Aye.” Gwen must have said a silent prayer and, grabbing her hand, pulled her in the direction of the cottage. “’Tis not far now. We’ll be safe there, for a time.”
They came to the road that led in and out of Castle Druiminn and they paused to see if anyone was about. Seeing no one, they crossed it as the sound of thumping horse’s hooves sounded from the direction of the castle.
“Quickly,” Gwen urged.
Abby made the mistake of looking to see whom it was and froze when she noted the large, blood covered Scotsman with death and revenge masking his visage. “We’re in really big trouble, Gwen.”
Gwen swore, pulling her into a run. “’Tis Laird O’Cain.”
They made the cottage as the man and a large portion of his men surrounded the small building. Their laughter and filthy jibes about what they were going to do to them, and how often, made her skin crawl. They bolted the door and slid Gwen’s working table in front of it, before sliding a large cabinet to cover the only window in the room.
“Gwen, lass. Come out and introduce me to yer visitor. We’ll not harm ye, we’ll be right pleasant. Won’t we, lads?”
Laughter rang out and Abby looked to Gwen whose visage paled to a person who’d never seen sunshine before in their life. “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they? And they’re going to enjoy doing it.” Abby swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at Gwen’s nod. They both stood in the middle of the room, frozen with fear and unsure what to do next. Through the haze of what was happening, the smell of smoke flittered across her senses. “Do you smell that?”
Gwen swore, her gaze snapping to the ceiling. “They’ve set the thatch alight.”
“What!” For the first time in her life, Abby didn’t know what to do. She’d never had to prepare herself for situations like these. Her life, boring as it was in the future, had never been so threatening or scary. Who set buildings on fire with people in them?
“You better come out. I’d hate for two beautiful women like yourselves to go to waste.”
Gwen yelled something at them in Gaelic. Abby assumed, by their enthusiastic laughter, that is was some sort of warning or swear word.
“We can’t go outside. We’re dead either way.” Abby coughed as the air started to thicken with smoke. She tried to think of a way out and could’ve cursed herself when nothing came to mind. All she could think about was the awful way in which Laird O’Cain would seek his revenge against Aedan for a war that hadn’t had anything to do with her or Gwen, but Jinny. This was absurd.
Neither of them deserved what the men outside had in store for them. Hell, no one on earth deserved such a horrific death. “We’d be better to stay here. The smoke will kill us long before the flames. He’ll torture us if we go out there.” Gwen took her hand and rubbed it in silent consolation.
A loud roaring sound, followed by shouts from the threatening clan sounded as another sword battle started outside. Hope fleetingly filled her heart as the sound of Aedan’s voice, his battle cry, permeated the air. He was here. He’d save them. Of course he would.
He’d never let them die in such a way.
“Help me with the floor, Abigail. We’ll go down in the secret room. It may buy us some time. If the roof caves in, it’ll crush us.”
Abby nodded, pushing a small table full of bowls and glass containers to the side, seeing the square stone slab that covered the stairs leading to the underground room.
“The room has a stone roof, so even if the building goes up in flames, we may survive, depending on the smoke.”
Abby didn’t think they’d have much chance of survival should they go down there, but then, their options were limited. She started when a small wooden trap door near the fireplace pushed in and Aedan’s head popped through.
She went to him quickly, pulling him inside, feeling his body to make sure he was in one piece. “Is it safe to leave with you? Is the battle over?”
“Nay, lass,” he said, pushing her hair out of her face, his brow furrowed in deep worry lines. “My men are holding them at present, enough for me to see ye. I couldn’t let ye go without saying good-bye.”
“What do you mean?” His gaze moved to the corner of the roof, which was now well alight, small embers dropping onto the floor below. “We don’t have time to discuss the matter, but know, Abigail, that I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love ye.”
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I know you do. I’ve never doubted your affections, Aedan.” She hugged him quickly, pulling him tight against her, worried that should tonight be the last time she saw him alive, at least he never doubted how she felt about him as well.
“Send her back, Gwen. Get Abigail out of here.”
Abby’s gaze widened and she frowned. “What do you mean?” As the truth of his words slammed into her, she reeled back on her heels as if slapped. “You cannot mean to send me back to my own time? I don’t want to leave, Aedan. You know that.”
“Aye, I do, lass. I know what ye feel, and I know you’re true, but I can’t assure your safety this night. There are more O’Cain clansmen headed our way, and it’ll be a miracle if anyone is left standing at the end. I can’t lose ye to them. I can’t let them take ye in the way they would. I want to know you’re safe, happy, and home in your own time, than be selfish and keep ye here and risk ye life. Please, go into the cellar and do as I ask.”
Shouts from outside called out to Aedan and his body tensed. Abby kissed him, threw her arms about his neck, and took one last taste, one last touch of the man she doubted she’d ever see again. He deepened the kiss—its raw intensity making her body ache with longing that would forever be her curse.
He pulled back, staring at her with such pain she physically hurt. “Gwendolyn, you’ll send Abigail home. That’s an order from your laird.”
His tone brooked no argument. Abby looked around to see Gwen nod. “You know what you ask, brother. Are ye sure?”
“Aye, I know what I ask.” He pulled her against him once more, his strong arms encircling her back. “I’m glad I met ye, Abigail Cross,” he whispered against her ear, kissing her lobe quickly. “Time may separate us, but you’re my soul mate without doubt, and I’ll love ye forever and we will meet again. Maybe not in this time, but another.”
A sob broke free, and she swiped at her cheek. “As you are mine.” Abby pulled away to meet his gaze. “I love you, Aedan MacLeod. I think the moment I ran into you at this very cottage, my heart was lost.”
He grinned. “It warms my heart to know that what we had was true.”
“It’s as true as I’m standing here.” She paused, knowing he had to go and her as well. “Please be safe. Please don’t die this night.”
“I’ll do my best not to displease ye. I promise ye that.”
As the roof creaked, Abby stood, strode quickly toward the trap door, and looked one last time at the love of her life. “Bye.”
“Bye, lass,” he said, leaving the same way he came.
Gwen grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs. They slid the stone trapdoor back in place and went to stand away from the opening. Abby looked about the empty room as a loud crash sounded upstairs. “Hold my hand, Abigail. ’Tis time we left.”
Abby met her gaze and frowned. “We? What do you mean?”
Gwen shrugged. “I’m coming with ye. I doubt I’d survive tonight should I stay, and I refuse to give up my future with Braxton because of the bastard O’Cain. I’m going to have bairns with my man, maybe not in the near future, but one day.”
Tears pooled in Gwen’s eyes, and Abby pulled her into a hug. “I think that’s a fantastic idea and one I want to see happen. Let’s go.”
Gwen started chanting words that sounded Gaelic, or perhaps Latin, she wasn’t sure. The room didn’t change, just became quiet, before Gwen swore, stopping the chant.
“What’s the matter?”
Gwen ran a hand through her hair, her gaze darting back to the trapdoor where a slither of smoke started to filter through. “It’s not working. I have enough power to send you home, but I can’t accompany ye, Abigail. You’ll have to go without me.”
“But what will happen if you stay? There’s smoke coming in already.” Abby wanted to vomit at the thought of going home and never knowing if her friend survived or not. “I’m not going without you. If you have to stay then so do I. I’d rather die with you, than live knowing I left you to die alone.”
“I won’t die, lass. Like I said, I have plans with Braxton that I’ll not allow even a measly fire to get in the way of. Now ye will go, and that’ll be the end of it. My brother would never forgive me if ye stayed.”
Abby coughed. “I refuse to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.
Gwen shrugged. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but ye leave me no choice.”
Again strange and ancient chants started and Abby swore. Gwen was going to send her anyway. “No. Please don’t send me away. How will I return? How can I live knowing you may die?” Her voice rose in panic and she hugged Gwen to her, and yet her friend continued, unheeded by her touch, the words continuing on without a stutter.
Shit.
The sounds from outside dimmed until there was no sound at all but the pitter-patter of a passing shower. Abby shut her eyes as her stomach churned before everything went black. When she opened them and looked about, the room was empty, devoid of Gwen and smoke, and the stone trapdoor was open, allowing her to leave with ease.
Abby walked up the stairs and climbed out. The cottage was as she’d found it that day before she’d been pulled back in time. It was daylight as well, and the war that had been battling on outside was forever lost in the sands of time.
Abby walked outside and noted some people walking toward Druiminn Castle, smart phones in full use, taking images of the medieval estate, people posing in front of the great castle in the distance, taking selfies to tweet to their friends. “So, I’m back.” Saying the words out loud left an ache in her chest. Abby bent down and scooped up the soil at her feet, letting it drift through her fingers.
It floated off into the wind, and she bit back a hysterical sob. Aedan was gone, perhaps forever. She didn’t know if he survived the war, had kept his title and land, nothing. The clan battle having taken place at the castle and not Coire na Creiche as history had dictated, had maybe changed the victor? Before her landing in seventeenth century Scotland, the clan battle hadn’t had a winner on either side.
But things had a way of changing and not always for the better.
Abby started toward town, hoping the hotel had at least kept her luggage, since she was dressed in a gown that stood out like a sore thumb in this time. Perhaps she’d been gone so long she was now classed as a missing person. Were her friends, the few she had, looking for her? Or had time slowed to the point where she hadn’t even been missed?
Taking one last look at the castle and the surrounding grounds, she headed back into town. She supposed her questions would be answered soon enough.