I stared up at her, eyes wide, terrified, and silent because I had no idea what she was saying. At a break in her rant, I interrupted, “I want my ring, give me my ring back, please.” She jerked me to standing by the front of my shirt. I was taller, but she was scary as heck. She jerked me back and forth yelling at me, then smacked me across the face, grabbed me by the ear, twisted it so hard my knees crumpled, and dragged me, knee-walking, to the wall. She shoved me into the corner. Finger wagging she screamed over me as I cowered. Then she stalked away.
I curled up and pressed my eyes against my knees. And huddled there, my cheek stinging, until I finally fell asleep.
I woke to a baby crying. The room was dark, a small fire in the hearth, the baby was far away and not mine. The cries were alarming, but unfamiliar. It was uncanny how that universal sound wasn’t universal at all, it was specific: baby crying, not my baby.
I wondered where in the world or time Isla was and hoped Emma and Beaty were taking care of her, calming her cries. At the thought of her my breasts let down, rushing milk down my stomach.
Great, I would spend another day sopping wet. The crying came closer, and then I was kicked in the side. Apparently I was supposed to wake up and fucking come quiet this baby. She scolded me, her voice raised over the baby’s wails. Also apparent, she was irritated I wasn’t up already. I was so freaking hungry, so thirsty.
I sat in the uncomfortable chair with its hard-ass poorly designed seat, not deep enough, too straight-backed — the bairn was thrust into my arms. Mary yanked my hands away, scolding, shaking her fist at me. She made herself clear, I wasn’t supposed to actually touch him. I wasn’t supposed to do anything but nurse. I mimed with my hand a drink of water. “Please,” I said, “water, please.”
She stormed off in a huff and returned with a small pewter cup of water. It was gone quickly, too quickly.
I was so thirsty still, but suddenly I also, unfairly, had to pee. I peered around the room, but couldn’t discern where the chamberpot was. The room smelled like babyshit and piss.
Speaking of, the baby in my arms was wet. I was wet. The fire was too low to warm the room. It was freezing. And all of it was fucking dismaying. I felt like I might cry again, but guess what? I would get smacked for it. So I nursed the stranger-baby on my right side and then turned him to nurse on my left, and then fell asleep before he finished. I woke with a start when Mary grabbed him from my arms, smacked me hard across the face again, lifted me with a twist of my ear, and knee walked me back to the corner.
I said, “I have to pee, where do I pee?”
She shoved me down and kicked me to stay there.
I cowered in a ball for a long time and then in the darkness of the night, with freezing gusts of wind through the cold-walled castle, on a stone-hard ground, alone in a long ago castle, no chance of ever going home.
I peed myself.
And then I cried some more.
Thirty - Magnus
I landed in deep snow in the clearing, twas almost dark, blizzard conditions, cathadh-sneachda. I fumbled through one of the bags strapped tae m’horse while he stamped, furious tae be in the biting cold. I spoke tae him, “Wheesht, tha e glè fhuar, but ye will be able tae handle it. Tis a stable nae too far away.”
In the top bag was a lantern and a parka. I pushed the button for light and dressed m’self warmer while looking around the clearin’ — there was a darkness tae the snow. I shoveled snow away and uncovered, frozen, Bella’s body.
Kaitlyn had been here.
Inches of snow had collected on the body so she had been here hours afore. “Och, Kaitlyn, where are ye?”
I swung the lantern, illuminating left and right, searching all directions. I found no footsteps, no sign of a living person, only a body under a layer of snow. I believed it had been at least six hours, perhaps more.
Long enough tae freeze tae death.
But the castle was nae far away.
And Kaitlyn kent tae get there.
But what if she dinna ken where she was?
I dug through the bag for night-vision goggles, and searched the immediate woods, in every direction, slowly and methodically. I called, “Kaitlyn! Kaitlyn!” and listened carefully. Finally I came tae the edge of the woods, and looked past the stables, at the building that was nae a castle, but a small timber-built fortress.
If she made it there, she would be safe, she wouldna freeze tae death.
I looked over the vast field, If she was outside of the fortress, she would die, I needed tae keep looking for her.
I considered approaching the gate in the night, but if I did I would need tae go inside. If they kent I was outside, alone, in the woods, they might rob me or worse.
I repeated tae m’self, trudging through the snow, scanning the landscape, “Stay alive Kaitlyn, I am close, daena die, I will find ye.”
Verra late I surrendered tae the weather, she couldna be found this night.
I returned tae m’horses, tied them tae a tree, unpacked m’tent, pitched it, and climbed inside, verra grateful for the heat of a warming bed sack, but I dinna sleep. I prayed, “Tis dark and cold, please bring Kaitlyn strength and warmth and light until I find her.”
At first light I searched the woods, finding nae trace, then returned tae pack my horses. Then I rode the larger horse, leadin’ the other. I went first tae the stables, asking the stable boy if he had seen anyone walkin’ from the woods tae the castle the day prior. He hadn’t and so I went tae inquire with the guards.
The guards were nae forthcomin’.
When asked if they had seen m’wife, they assured me they had nae seen her and wouldna answer any more questions.
Though I assured them I was a Campbell, I couldna prove m’familial connection. They wouldna let me pass.
Next I entered the village, I climbed from m’horse tae stand in the middle of the path, tryin’ tae ascertain where Kaitlyn might hae gone. Because of the cold there were nae so many people about. Voices rose in a nearby tavern. I tied m’horse outside. Inside, there was a table with a sparse breakfast for around six men. They all turned when I entered.
The proprietor was servin’ drinks. I asked if he had seen my young wife, enterin’ town the day before. He growled that he ‘hadna.’ One of the men made a loud joke about wantin’ tae find her, though he was too drunk tae stand, so I let him be.
I returned outside.
I led m’horses down the desolate road until I found a man walkin’ between his house and his stables.
“Hallo!” I called, “I am lookin’ for someone. M’wife. She has become lost. I believe she might hae come tae this village yesterday?”
He waved me tae follow him intae the stables, bangin’ his feet tae loosen the mud and snow at the door. “Yer wife?”
“Aye, she is young, lost, and she canna speak Gaelic. Tis verra cold, I canna find her.”
He introduced himself as David and led me down the path and called in at another house, “Margar! Ye about?” An older woman peeked out, and waved us through her front door. She made us sit because I was, “too verra big tae stand” in her kitchen under the short ceiling.
She listened as I recounted m’tale, then wiped her hands on a cloth, wrapped herself with tartan, and we said goodbye tae David. I followed Margar out intae the cold.