Chapter 10

A s Anna stepped outside, she peered around carefully, as if seeing things for the first time. Now that she looked, really looked, the evidence was there for all to see. The castle. The stables. The lack of any mod-cons. The clothing people wore. Heck, the clothing she wore.

Why had she not seen it before?

Because she hadn't wanted to. It was easier to tell herself Emeric was having a joke than face the truth. Even now she'd accepted it, that truth was still utterly terrifying.

1497.

How the hell could she be in 1497?

She breathed deeply as she walked by Emeric's side across the courtyard and through the main gates, retracing the steps they'd taken when they arrived late last night. Once through the gates, Emeric led her onto a broad path that snaked through the gorse and heather bracketing the castle and towards where chimney smoke was rising in the distance.

She glanced at Emeric. He was striding along beside her, eyes scanning the terrain on both sides of the road. His presence was soothing, a beacon of stability in an otherwise alien world. The wind whipped his hair into wild arcs around his face and his plaid billowed around his knees. He looked every inch the wild highland warrior, as though he was a part of this place and it a part of him.

And yet, he'd traveled to the future. He knew about magic and time travel and a million other things that made no sense. How much did she know about him really?

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the crunch of stones under their boots and the whisper of wind rustling through the heather. Eventually though, the path led them to an overlook where Anna got her first sight of the settlement that accompanied the castle.

Rows of timber cottages hugged the road side with charmingly crooked chimneys poking into the sky smudged gray with hearth smoke. Farther on stood a small but sturdy looking wooden church, its steeple pointing at the heavens, and beyond this, like a shining silver coin in the sunlight sat a small, basin-shaped loch. It was like something out of a postcard.

"Dun Achmore village," Emeric said. "Where I spent most of my childhood getting into mischief in one form or another."

"Young Emeric, eh?" she replied, trying to bury her unease beneath light-hearted banter. "I'll bet he was dashing and brave and broke all the girl's hearts."

"Oh ye bet do ye? Well, as much as I like the thought of being dashing and brave, I'm not sure I did much heart-breaking. I was gangly and awkward as I recall."

They entered the village and Anna's senses were assailed by an array of new sensations. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted over her, luring her hunger out of hiding, despite her hearty breakfast. Distant sounds of blacksmiths' hammers striking metal reverberated through the air mingling with soft children's laughter. It was all scarily real: the slightly pungent scent of livestock, the hearty calls between laborers in distant fields, even the way the sharp sunlight flared off the crudely built structures.

Oh God, she thought, pressing her hand against her stomach to still the sudden queasiness. I'm really here. This is really happening. I'm in a freaking medieval village!

Emeric, noticing her unease, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch steady and warm. "Are ye well, lass?"

She nodded weakly, offering him a shaky smile. "Yes, I—I just need a moment."

They stopped on the path and Anna took a moment to regain her composure. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the scent of earth and grass, before letting it out slowly.

"I'm okay now. Let's go," she finally said, sounding more confident than she felt.

Anna watched the locals as they wove through the village, noticing the way their heads turned towards Emeric, the way their eyes lit up in recognition, the way they straightened up and nodded respectfully. Men stopped hammering planks of wood together to wave at him, women halted their knitting and smiled as he passed by, and children paused in their play to cheerfully call out his name.

"Emeric!" a bright-eyed girl clinging to her mother's skirts shouted enthusiastically. Emeric responded with a warm smile and a wave that had her giggling in delight .

Everyone seemed to know him and he them, and she was struck suddenly by how different this was to her own life. Her life was transient, constantly moving, constantly changing. But here? Here the roots went deep and even though Emeric had been away for a long time, those roots remained strong.

Emeric though, seemed slightly uncomfortable at the attention he was getting. He was friendly and polite, but in the short time she'd known him, she'd learned to read the slight tightening around his mouth and the set of his shoulders that showed he wasn't entirely comfortable.

He led her down to a path that hugged the loch shore and along it to a large wooden building that had a thatched roof and no windows. Its single door stood closed.

"This barn is our main store," he said. "Where we keep the grain as it comes in from the fields before it gets milled into flour. The keep's share is due."

"And we're here to collect it? Right."

Emeric frowned. "Are ye sure ye are all right, lass?"

"Now that you mention it," she replied with a smile. "This dress itches like nobody's business and I stubbed my toe."

"Ye know what I'm talking about."

"Oh, you mean the fact that I'm hundreds of years out of my time?" She waved a hand airily. "Honestly, I'd forgotten all about it."

Emeric's frown deepened.

"Oh, all right," she said, throwing up her hands. "I'm actually terrified. But what good is that going to do? So are we gonna collect this grain or what? "

Before he could reply, the barn door creaked open and a stout man with a grizzled beard emerged.

"Emeric!" he bellowed in a voice as rough as gravel. "Is that really ye, ye old bastard?"

Emeric grinned at the man. "Aye, Angus. And who are ye calling old?"

The men clasped arms in greeting, an obvious warmth between them. They looked to be around the same age but where Emeric was tall and broad, Angus was stocky and short, like a barrel.

"Who's this bonnie lass?" Angus asked, turning to Anna.

Anna wasn't sure of the protocol so she just nodded. "I'm Anna. Nice to meet you"

"A pleasure," Angus said. "Any...um... friend ... of Emeric's is a friend of mine." He gave Emeric a very obvious wink.

Emeric rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of God, Angus. Anna is a guest at Dun Achmore, that's all."

Angus roared with laughter, slapping his thigh in mirth. "Oh, ye are still a terrible liar! I've known ye long enough to tell when ye fancy someone!"

Anna kept her expression carefully neutral. She wasn't sure whether to feel mortified or secretly pleased by Angus's comment.

Emeric glared at his friend. "Enough of yer nonsense," he warned. "Dear God, man, ye are as bad as Aislinn."

"Aye, all right," said Angus dismissively. "I'll behave. To what do I owe this honor, anyway?"

"I've come to check the grain tallies."

"Oh, really? And here's me thinking ye've come to visit an old friend. "

"Nay, Angus. I'd not visit ye unless I had to," Emeric returned, a crooked smile on his face.

"Well, that stings," Angus replied with a dramatic hand to his chest, but there was a glint in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched. "But such is my lot in life. This way, then."

Angus led them into the barn. The space inside was cavernous, with thick rafters holding up the roof. Sacks of grain were stacked to form high towers that seemed to scratch the ceiling. The air was thick with the sweet, earthy scent of barley and wheat, and mixed with it was the tangy aroma of rye.

Underneath the low-hanging rafters, sprigs of drying herbs hung down in clusters. Dried rosemary, thyme, and sage leaves crackled when touched by soft drafts of wind sneaking in through the small gaps.

"Here it is—the best of the season's harvest, ready to go up to the keep," Angus announced with a flourish, pointing to a row of large sacks he had set aside. They were tied up neatly with thick twine. Angus patted a sack, sending up a small puff of dust.

Emeric bent down to examine the sacks. Untying the neck of one, he picked up a handful of grain, letting it trickle slowly from his hand. His brow furrowed as he looked over the line of sacks that had been separated from the rest. He glanced up at Angus.

"This isnae enough. This isnae even half of the castle's portion."

A shadow crept over Angus's face. "Aye, I'm sorry. I've done all I can but there isnae anymore. "

Emeric stood. His expression was tight, bordering on anger. "We willnae be able to last the winter with this."

Angus swallowed thickly. All his earlier levity was gone and now he looked old, the lines on his face deepening. He lifted a hand to scratch gruffly at his beard.

"I know, Emeric. The harvest was poor and ye know the constraints we work under. I've been racking my brain trying to come up with a solution. We could try to ration it out, but we both know that would only last for so long."

Emeric's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He looked around the room again, at the rows of stacked sacks filling the barn and then at the smaller row Angus had set aside for the keep.

"I will speak to my uncle," he said at last. "Perhaps we could come to an arrangement with the crofters further south or else buy in grain from elsewhere."

Anna glanced around the barn, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "But...but there's loads of grain here," she said. "Why would you need to buy in more? I'm no expert but it looks to me like there's enough here to feed everyone for months."

Emeric and Angus exchanged a look.

"The rest of it doesnae belong to us, lass," Emeric said.

"Doesn't belong to you? I don't understand. If it doesn't belong to you then who does it belong to?"

Emeric's jaw tightened, a tiny vein in his temple throbbing. "The MacDonalds. Our neighbors. It's their portion of our harvest."

Anna glanced between the two men. "But—"

"Leave it, Anna," Emeric growled.

Anna drew back, stung. She turned to look at Angus, who shrugged helplessly.

"Land politics, lass."

She knew nothing of land politics or crop shortages and all it did was remind her of how very out of place she was.

"Come," Emeric offered, his voice softer now. "Let's return to the castle. I need to speak to my uncle."

Anna nodded, and after saying goodbye to Angus, let him guide her out of the barn and back towards the looming structure of Dun Achmore under the setting sun.

Her mind was a whirl of thoughts as they walked, the landscape passing by in a dreary blur. The early evening chill nipped at her fingertips and pricked at the tiny hairs on her nape, but she paid it no mind. Her attention was on other things, lost within the confines of her swirling thoughts.

She glanced at Emeric from under her lashes. He was silent, his eyes focused on the path ahead as he guided them through the moors. His brows were furrowed slightly, his jaw set in a stern line.

Anna felt a fresh wave of helplessness wash over her. Far from making her feel more at home, her tour of Mackintosh lands had done the opposite. These people, with their clan bonds, their customs and traditions, their daily struggles and strife, were so far removed from what she knew that she might as well have landed on another planet.

How was she ever going to fit in here?

"There ye are!"

She looked up to see Aislinn running towards them through the keep's gates. "Where have ye been? Never mind. Ye are here now, that's what matters. Everything is ready and we've just been waiting for the number one guest!"

Emeric blinked at his sister. "Aislinn, what are ye talking about?"

"Didnae mother tell ye? We've arranged a feast in yer honor, to welcome ye home! Come on, everyone is waiting!"

Emeric shot Anna a helpless look as Aislinn took both their arms and dragged them towards the great hall. She could only describe the expression on Emeric's face as one thing. Terror.