46. Chapter 46 - Ash

CHAPTER 46 - ASH

BALLOCH CASTLE - SATURDAY AFORE THE DROVERS ARRIVE AT CLEIF - OCTOBER, 1683

I used the garderobe, then Lochie accompanied me to our room, leaving me there with the maid undressing me, while he returned to the garderobe himself.

The maid left me with my hair undone, wearing a big billowy chemise. My shoes and socks were off for the first time in what felt like days, my bare feet on the stone floor were wonderfully cool, but then too cold. I was shivering, standing on the rug when he returned.

He glanced at me, ran his hand through his hair nervously, and took off his coat. “I canna look at ye too closely, or I will forget tae be civilized.”

I fluffed out the chemise. “Even with all this fabric?”

“Och aye. Look at ye, in m’mind ye are naked under the... dress, tis easy tae tell, tis givin’ me the...”

I laughed. “The what?”

“Ye ken, I canna think, and now ye are smiling. I am barely strong enough tae bear it while I undress.”

He placed his coat on the trunk at the end of the bed, and then he worked on the buttons on his shirt. He worked on loosening his collar, then asked, “Can ye do it, Ashy? M’fingers are large for it.”

I stood in front of him and unbuttoned the two top buttons at his neck, concentrating, which wasn’t easy with his eyes on my face, he was inches away.

He put his arms around me and pulled my hips close, his breathing had grown heavy.

“This is all it takes?”

“Aye, I canna wait, I need tae take yer clothes off.” He scooped my chemise up over my head and off. He smiled widely.

I crossed my arms across my chest and shivered. “Too cold, we need to get into the bed, or warm the room.”

He picked up the chemise and put it down over my head and held it so I could put my arms back in. “I will build the fire, but ye canna distract me with yer body or I winna be able tae.”

I put my arms out. “Is this distracting?”

“Aye, verra, I deeply regret puttin’ yer chemise back on ye.” He ran his hand through his hair again. “Och I would greatly like tae pull yer hem up and peek underneath, just a small peek.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. “No peeking. You, m’laird, were going to build the fire. Do you want me to build the fire?”

He said, “Och, tae watch ye kneel by the hearth, yer arse right there — twould end me.”

I turned around with my hand blocking my rear. “Is this better?”

“Nae,” he loudly sighed. “I can see yer wrist, Ashy, I would like tae kiss ye, right there on yer pulse, ye ken, and yer elbow just above it, and then just beyond…”

“Very funny, Lochie, but it’s freezing in here.”

“Right. Tis. I am buildin’ the fire.” He crouched beside the hearth and began poking the coals and adding logs.

I went to the bed and climbed on it, my knee bonking on the board where no mattress covered it. “Ow!”

He said, “Och nae, twas yer knee?”

I fake cried, “There’s barely any mattress!”

He frowned, comically, “Tis a poor treatment, but not directed at us specifically. I daena think there is a good mattress for years.”

I patted around on the bed, “It’s lumpy!” I started kneading the soft parts out to cover the bare.

He stood there with his hands on his hips. “Och now ye are crawlin’ around on the bed.”

“And you are done building the fire.” I said, “If me, in a giant chemise, crawling on an uncomfortable bed, covered from head to toe in billowing fabric, is getting your engine roaring, you better get over here.”

He laughed, “My engine roaring!”

“You never heard that before?”

“Nae.” He kicked his shoes off while I pulled the blanket over me.

“Ye are drivin’ me wild, ye are verra sexy.” He crawled onto the bed and lay down on me.

His face was dimly illuminated by a flashlight on the edge of the table.

I watched his expression as we looked deeply in each other’s eyes. “Lochie, what happens if we don’t get out of here before the flashlight batteries run down?”

He kissed me. Then said, “Tis borrowin’ trouble, in the morn we will attempt tae use the vessel again.”

I pushed him to the side and squiggled to the table and turned off the flashlight. “Just in case.”

I lay back down and he climbed on me again. He kissed me deeply, stirring me to excitement, but then through the heat and passion of the moment, I heard a small whirr sound.

I stilled.

Whirrrr.

“Lochie, what is that?” It was electric, out of place.

He had his eyes directed at the window.

I raised my head and listened, it was faint but definitely something…. Whirrrrrr. It almost sounded like a... was it a drone?

A big very bright light beam rose up from under the sill, and swept across the other end of our room.

My heart raced.

Lochie pressed his finger to his lips and stealthily rolled off me.

The beam of light swung around the interior of our room, so bright it stung my eyes. The circle of light illuminated the end of our bed, and then traveled up the covers. I slowly pulled the bedding over our heads and lay in darkness, listening. Lochinvar was still, but tense, about to spring from the bed — I didn’t breathe.

After the searchlight traveled over our bed, it illuminated the headboard, and then traveled back down and swung around the room again. Then it turned off.

The room went pitch black.

The whirring sound slowly faded.

Lochinvar jumped from the bed. He whispered, “Get up, we hae tae go.” He turned on the flashlight.

I jumped up and started pulling on my socks and boots. “That was a drone!”

“Aye, twas.”

“That was so scary…” I tied my boots and then started pulling on a skirt. “What was a drone doing here?”

“Someone is lookin’ for us.”

He pulled on his kilt, and buckled his belt, and tucked in his shirt. “Dost ye hae paper, pens?”

I jammed my arms into the bodice and hastily tied the front. “I don’t know, do I? Yeah, I have a notebook, I have pens, I definitely have my wedding pen you gave me… where is it?” I yanked open my messenger bag and rummaged through it for the small notebook and the wedding pen. “What do you want me to write?”

He tucked in his shirt, his eyes focused on the window. “I want ye tae write: I, Lochinvar Campbell, and ye, m’wife, Ash, hae arrived here, at Balloch Castle in the year 1683. Tis October, write that, I believe tis the Saturday afore the drovers arrive at Crieff tae sell their cattle.”

I was scribbling furiously, writing it all out as he spoke even though it was slow as he tried to figure out what to say. “Our vessel inna working. Make sure ye say that part well. It is not working?—”

“I’m underlining that.”

“Good, and tell them we are tryin’ tae find our way home tae the kingdom of Riaghalbane.”

“Should I say the century?”

“Nae, if someone comes across it, they ought tae be confused by it. That way twill be noticed.” He added, “Put down that there are drones here. Dost ye hae room tae write it?”

I nodded as I wrote.

He repeated, “Our vessel inna working.”

I said, “Is that all?”

“I think so. Finish dressin’.”

I put down the pen and stood, adjusting my breasts in the bodice, and tightening the laces, while he pissed in the chamber pot in the corner of the room.

Then I heard the whirring sound again.

I whispered, “It’s back!” realizing that I had left the flashlight on, laying on the table.

He finished pissing, dropped his kilt, rushed to join me where I had pressed up against the wall. We both stood there with our backs to the stone, watching as the drone hovered at our window, the searchlight sweeping around the room.

The strong beam settled on our flashlight and paused.

Then the light began sweeping around the room again. I clutched Lochie’s hand and bent my knees, sliding down the wall to the floor, pulling him after me. We were hidden in a shadow behind the headboard of the bed.

We kept still, hoping it wouldn’t see us, trying not to breathe.

Finally it withdrew from the window.

We stayed quiet listening, then he said, “I think tis gone.”

“Lochie, what is happening?”

He looked right and left. “I daena ken.” He stood up, put out his hand to help me up, but the drone quickly rose up and flew over the window sill. The light beam directly on us, I was frozen in fear.

An amplified voice came from the drone:

“Lochinvar Campbell, you are under arrest. Ash MacNeil, you are under?—”

Lochie demanded, “Under what authority?”

“By the authority of Emperor Asgall of the Chronum Empire.”

Lochie said, “An empire, what dost ye mean, an empire? ”

“Lochinvar Campbell you are under arrest by the authority of Emperor Asgall of the Chronum Emp?—”

Lochinvar said, under his breath, “Gather yer things, Ash.” Louder, he said, “I winna comply.”

I gathered all my stuff, turned off the flashlight and shoved it in the bag. Then I dug through for a gun. I wasn’t exactly sure it was loaded, I hadn’t been the one to pack it, but I didn’t have a lot to lose. I kept my back to the drone, counted to three, then spun around, yelling, “Lochie, Down!” and shot at the drone. I hit a rotor. The drone shot back, firing a staccato of bullets at the wall, but I had hit it.

It sank in the air, nearly crashing, then rose off-kilter, turning in a slow circle. It flew out the window, banging the sill as it cleared it.

Men were running down the halls toward our room. Lochie said, “Stow the gun, be ready tae go.”

We left the room, holding our bags. Lochie spoke animatedly with the men in the hall. Lochie described what he had witnessed, while others went into the room to investigate.

Lochie said, “I daena ken, there was a loud monstrous sound, twas like a cannon went off!”

I held onto Lochie’s sleeve as we backed away. Men were rushing up and down the stairwell, stalking up and down the passageway. Lochie explained what we had seen, while keeping the truth of it hidden, until we made it to the stairs and rushed down. I dragged my hand along the stone to keep my balance as we jogged down the uneven steps. We made it to the courtyard and raced to the stables, and waited with our back to the wooden wall while the stableboy saddled Finny. Lochie grew irritated and took over the job, working at top speed.

He shoved my bag into the saddlebag on the side of the horse, while I frantically looked out — the whirring sound was happening again.

I grabbed his arm. “What are we doing? We can’t! Where are we going?”

The drone flew over the wall and neared us, saying, “You are under arrest.”

The stableboy covered his ears and hid behind the horse stalls.

I pulled Lochie by the arm down the wall to hide behind a shadow. “They’re going to follow us, we can’t leave, oh no! Lochie, how many people are out there, waiting for us? They’ll capture us! I don’t want to get kidnapped again!”

Lochinvar said, “Aye, ye are right, Ashy, we canna leave.”

The drone pulled back.

Lochie stood up and peered around, then asked, “How does it ken where we are?”

“It might have a heat sensor.”

“Tis what exactly?”

“It can see through walls, it can see what we’re doing, where we’re going. We can’t leave, they’ll just take us.” I frowned. “Finny has my gun!”

“Och nae, we need it. Tis on Finny’s saddle?”

I nodded. “Right side.”

He raced around the stable and made it to Finny, unclipped the bag from the horse’s saddle, and told the stableboy, “We changed our mind, return him tae the stall.”

Then Lochie raced toward me with the drone swooping behind him in chase. It pulled up short as Lochie reached me and pulled me behind him.

The searchlight beam shone brightly on his face.

The voice from the drone said: “By the power vested in me by Asgall, Emperor of Chronum, lay down your arms and?—”

He whispered, “Dost ye hae a clean shot?”

“No, plus it will fire on us, we’re unprotected.”

“Give me the sack.”

I passed it to him.

Completely still, hefting my bag in his right hand, he whispered, “Behind ye… the stairwell. Count of three.”

I tapped on his back: one, two, three.

He leapt, swinging the bag at the drone, catching the corner and making it careen. But I couldn’t watch, I was scrambling to the open stairwell door, and descending into the darkness all by myself.

My last glimpse, Lochie running in the opposite direction.

It was a little like falling — the steps were inconsistent and worn, steeper than I expected. It was exactly falling, I tripped and fell on my knees at the bottom. It hurt, badly, but I forced myself up and feeling with my hands on the cold stone, I moved farther into the tunnel.

I was in such pitch darkness that when I looked back at the opening at the top of the stairs I could barely tell where it was.

I immediately felt frightened and a bit claustrophobic. I had given Lochie my bag, I had no flashlight, no nothing but the clothes on my back. I was panting, having trouble getting on top of my breath. I stared at the opening, thinking of my last freedom, from down in a medieval hole, trying to convince myself that I was safe.

No one will close the hatch. No one would do that.

No one would lock me down here — this was not a big deal, at all. Probably in the day this was just a regular underground passage. Definitely not some crazy rat-infested medieval torture chamber.

Could there be rats?

I gulped.

With my two hands on the wall I tried to breathe down my rising panic.