48. Chapter 48 - James

CHAPTER 48 - JAMES

BALLOCH CASTLE - MAY 30, 1710

A s we rode through the front gate Lizbeth was waiting for Liam, and surprised to see us all. “Why haena ye gone?”

Quentin said, “I don’t want to alarm anyone but our vessel isn’t working.”

Lizbeth said, “Och nae, consider me alarmed! Is this a thing that regularly happens?”

I said, “Nope, I heard tales, but can’t remember the facts of them, usually it’s diabolical — most of the time I think they involved your mother.”

She said, “Well, this must be related tae the issue I wanted tae speak tae ye on.” She held out a folded piece of lined paper. “This was in a book on my private shelf, they are books given tae me from Lady Mairead, mostly, and I hae looked through them all, many times afore, but as I was looking for one in particular I found this within the leaves.”

I opened the paper and read:

I, Lochinvar Campbell, and Ash, are here in Balloch Castle in the year 1683 October the Saturday before the

it said drivers, but the word was scratched out and replaced with the word ‘drovers’ then continued:

arrived at creeve to sell cattle.

Our vessel stopped working.

There are drones here. Attacking us

Our vessel doesn’t work

and then nothing.

Quentin, reading over my shoulder, said, “Okay, this sucks, what is happening?”

“They got stuck in the year 1683? How the hell are they in 1683? but then... What does drovers and ‘creeve to sell cattle’ mean?”

Lizbeth said, “The drovers go tae Crieff tae sell cattle in October, usually the third week.” She counted on her fingers. “This might mean tis the second Saturday if tis afore the cattle market.”

I said, “With some time and calculations I can probably figure out what day of the month this is, I’m just not thinking straight.” I leaned over and kissed Junior on the head while he was cradled in Sophie’s arms.

Quentin said, “That means none of the vessels are working, right?”

“At least ours aren’t.”

“And no weapons to Magnus — is he going to be okay?”

I said, “If the vessels aren’t working are we missing our rendezvous date?”

Lizbeth said, “What of Sean? Is he stranded in medieval times? Och nae, Maggie will be frantic with worry.”

I put out my hands. “Look, it’s all going to be okay, this never happens. We are just in a glitch in the matrix?—”

Lizbeth said, “A glitch, what is a glitch?”

All the women looked at me, blinking.

Quentin raised his brow. “Yeah, James, how bout you explain a glitch in the matrix to the ladies here.”

“Um... A glitch is like there is a... like there is a wheel of time, but it’s got a nail stuck in the tire, so it’s gone?—”

Sophie said, “A flat tire sounds dangerous, tis a terrible thing, inna it?”

“Yeah, but this isn’t, this is just a hiccup. That’s a better explanation. We’ll try again tomorrow and it will work by then, you’ll see. We will all go to the past, and then we will send Sean back. He needs to be home, there’s too much worry.”

Beaty said, “But Lochie and Ash are trapped — they say there are drones. It sounds as if tis dangerous.”

I nodded, “Yeah, um... I suppose it could be. We need to get a message forward in time to Lady Mairead. If she’s done this before, she will know how to undo it.

Lizbeth said, “How will ye get the message tae her?”

Quentin said, “We’ll add to this letter, and put it back in the book. She will find it in the time she is um... living.”

Sophie was rocking Junior and patting him comfortingly, she said, “It sounds tae me as if that would take a long time. A great deal could go wrong.”

I said, “Nah, Soph, it’s easy, it sits in a book, and then in no time, as long as the book exists and she looks in it, voila! But the letter better be good.”

We followed Lizbeth up to her room to use her writing desk. Quentin and I both pulled out pens at the same time.

“I have five pens.”

He looked in his sporran. “Seven, I win.”

“But do you have the best handwriting? I don’t want to be an ass, but it seems like handwriting is going to be a dealbreaker with Lady Mairead. Imagine if she said, ‘I’m not reading that.’”

Quentin nodded. “Good point. I agree. I have terrible writing, I’ll dictate.”

I tore a piece of paper from a notebook and began to write, but Lizbeth interrupted, “Ye must start with ‘Dear Lady Mairead’, and then tell her ye ‘hope she is well.’”

I crumpled up the paper and tore out a new one from the notebook and wrote:

Dear Lady Mairead,

I hope you are well. We are with Madame Beaty and Madame Sophie and our bairns and we are stuck at Balloch castle in the year 1710 on May 28. Our vessels are not working, they were working yesterday, but now they do not work. We also think there are men around who are working for Asgall and are spying on us.

“Should I write ‘spying on us’?” I reread it and then scratched through it and wrote:

They are keeping track of us. We were planning to take a load of weapons and goods to Magnus in 1291 but we can’t.

“How should I sign it?”

Lizbeth said, “Verra sincerely yours...”

I wrote that and then signed my name:

Master James Cook

I passed the pen to Quentin and he signed:

Colonel Quentin Peters

I folded the paper and gave it to Lizbeth. She put both the letters, the one from Lochie and Ash, and the one from us, inside the book’s pages.

I said, “What book is it?”

She said, “Tis Harry Potter, dost ye ken it?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a favorite where we’re from.”

“The boys love it a great deal.” She replaced the book on the shelf.

Sophie said, “What dost we do now?”

I said, “We wait.”