“Och, tis m’turn tae hae the talkin’ tae? Ye are goin’ tae speak tae me as a wee young brother?”
“Aye. I am. And ye are goin’ tae listen tae me because ye ken I am wiser than ye.”
He grinned. “I will listen tae ye because ye hae a dirk in yer hand.”
“Fair enough.” I slid the dirk intae its sheath. “Fraoch, I hae been tae the world that yer wife hails from. Tis a wondrous place, full of marvels—”
“I ken—”
“Nae, hear me out. Ye daena ken. Ye hae nae idea what tis like. There arna rats in the food durin’ the night. People can wake in the morn and spend a whole day livin’ without ever havin’ tae get dirt on their clothes. And Fraoch, when they are tae relieve themselves there is always paper tae use tae clean, there is water tae wash it away. They will take a warm shower every day and tis as if there is heaven on earth. My shower, tis what it is called, is in a large room and all I hae tae do is turn a knob,” I acted it out, “and the water will pour out, as if tis rain, but warm, as if it is in the summer sun. Can ye imagine it?”
“Nae really.”
“Then I will wrap a verra thick towel around m’self, tae dry, and if I am havin’ a fortunate day, m’wife might invite me tae bed her, because I am unclothed and clean. Daena even get me tae begin describin’ the bed, tis like a cloud. Ye never hae tae fluff it, and ye daena hae tae fight bugs for it.” I looked at him seriously.
“I am telling ye this, because yer wife has grown up with this type of life, these kinds of comforts, and she has told Kaitlyn she will give it all away tae live with ye, here, because she means tae be a good wife. But I want ye tae ken that ye are askin’ her tae give up too verra much. Kaitlyn worries about her desperately.”
“I can care for her.”
“I ken. I ken ye will do everythin’ ye can, but I tell ye Fraoch tis nae the same as goin’ through yer day in the year she lives in. There ye daena face death as often, as ye ken here ye might face death ten times afore breakfast.”
He nodded.
“Tis why I am tellin’ ye this in private. Ye should consider it, what ye are askin’ of her.”
He nodded again, quietly.
I concluded, “I winna speak on it again, but I want ye tae ken, if ye come tae the future ye will be welcome in m’home. Twould be a good time tae shew ye the new world.”
“Aye, I hear ye, Og Maggy, but I want ye tae ken I hae made up m’mind.”
“I ken. I simply wanted ye tae consider it.”
I looked back down at the walk-n-talk. “I daena understand why tis takin’ so long for Quentin tae make contact.”
Sixteen - Archibald the First
The year 2419
Isla entered the room. “How are you?”
I was leaning on the desk staring into a command console. “Well enough... considering—”
“Yeah.”
She came around the table and hugged me. “When will he get here?”
“The helicopter is expected in twenty minutes.”
“You should meet it.”
“I should. How do I look?” I turned so she could straighten the front of my coat, brush my shoulders and push my hair back.
“You need a cut.”
“I do, but ye ken I haena had the time.”
We met eyes.
She said, “Sometimes you sound so much like Da.”
“Yeah...” I stood straighter. “I wish I could think like him too. He would know what to do right now.”
“He was great, and an excellent king, but I think even he would be out of his element in this. Have you told her?”
“Not yet, I don’t relish it. It’s the anniversary of Da’s death, she’s a mess.” I sighed. “But I’ll go see her as soon as he’s returned.”
“Need me to come?”
“Can you go ahead to the hospital, make sure they’re ready?”
Flanked by guards, I took the elevator up to the landing pad, as the three royal-guard helicopters descended to the rooftop. Armed soldiers jumped from one, lowering a hospital stretcher, and wheeling it past me with a bow. They pushed the stretcher through to the interior of the castle, headed toward the hospital wing. I followed them to hear what the physician would have to say.
I knocked on the door of Kaitlyn’s apartment and her maid ushered me inside.
A few minutes later she entered, her hair mussed, red-rimmed eyes, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants with tartan slippers that my father had given her, their final Christmas together.
“Is everything okay, Archie?”
“I have something to tell you.”
“Oh.” Her face grew worried.
“Quentin has been shot, he’s been brought here to the hospital. Dr. Durham is doing everything he can to help him, but it’s not looking good. His age... and...”
She collapsed into a chair, a tear sliding down her face. “Oh no.”
“As soon as you’re dressed I can take you to see him.”
“Of course...” but then she remained sitting. “Shit, why today?” She took a deep breath. “Why does everyone always have to go?”
“I don’t know, but it sucks.”
“True that. Dammit, I told him to retire. I told him. I begged him. And when they go they leave us with all of this — you’re too young to be dealing with this bullshit war...”
I chuckled. “I’m a full grown man and a king, but yeah, this bullshit war. Feels like Da would have known how to deal with it, easily.”
“I don’t know if it would have been easy. And to be honest, a lot of the time he just waved his sword around hoping it would land, but he was lucky it landed on the target most of the time. Don’t let anyone know I said that. I do like that his legacy is that he was wise and always knew what to do. Only you and I know of the struggles, which is as it should be, I suppose. He made a good king.”
I said, “Without Da, without Quentin to guide me, I don’t know how to win this war.”
“Without Quentin, none of us know how to do anything.” She stood and I escorted her to the hospital wing.
At his bedside she clasped Quentin’s hand. “Quentin, can you hear me, Quentin?”
He was on life support and seemed lifeless. His hair now mostly gray, he looked old and weary. She looked at the doctor and he shook his head. “There’s nothing that can be done for him.”
“Oh,” she clutched Quentin’s hand. “You aren’t supposed to leave me. This is not fair. You’re supposed to be staying alive to take care of me. What about your promise to Magnus? You’re supposed to be here.”
The machines beeped and then the doctor asked, “Your Majesty, do you want me to take him off the machines?”
She sobbed and folded down over Quentin. Isla put a hand on Kaitlyn’s shoulder and nodded at the doctor.
The doctor waited for Kaitlyn to finish crying, then said, “Time of death, 3:29 pm, November 24.”
Kaitlyn looked up at me and then Isla. “What time?”