Exiles in Time (The After Cilmeri Series) (33 page)

“
I’ve been thinking,
Callum.”

Whenever Cassie started thinking,
Callum started worrying. But he just nodded.

“
I’ve been thinking that I
love you.”

It was like she’d punched Callum in
the gut. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t get enough air to make any
kind of response. At the same time, if his men weren’t asleep
around him, he would have found the wherewithal to sit up and
cheer.

Then she spoke again. “But I’m also
thinking that love isn’t going to be enough for us. You only like
me because I’m the first single time traveler you’ve met. You don’t
know anything about me, really, and I can’t imagine I’m going to be
good for you in the long run. Just because you love someone doesn’t
mean you should marry them.”

Callum went from joy to desolation in
the space of four sentences. A million things passed through his
head, but all he said was, “You’re wrong, Cassie. I need you to
give me—and us—a chance.”

She slowly untangled her hands from
his. “I don’t think so. I’ve never been one to lie to myself, and I
just don’t see where our two very different worlds can ever
intersect.”

“
They’re not so different
and they intersect in the middle,” Callum said.

“
But they don’t. We worked
well together almost this whole time, up until we got to Stirling
Castle. But Stirling Castle is the world you live in. I don’t see
how we can be partners there.” Cassie bit her lip and shook her
head. “I’m not as good a person as you are, Callum. When this is
over, I need to go home and you need to go back to London, or to
wherever David sends you next, and make this world a better
place.”

“
Cassie—don’t be this way.
I love you too.”

She shook her head again. “You’ll find
someone else. Someone who will be the person you need her to be. I
can’t—I just can’t—” Cassie rolled over to face the wall without
finishing the thought.

Maybe in their old world, Callum
wouldn’t have pressed her—he’d only known her for a week, after
all—but this was the rest of their lives they were talking about.
This could be the only chance at love either of them were going to
get. Cassie was still giving Callum the cold shoulder, but he
scooted closer and put his arm around her. What he had to say had
to be said up close.

“
I don’t know where you got
the idea that I wanted a medieval wife,” Callum said. “I don’t. I
don’t expect you to be one, even if you could. I don’t expect you
to change a single thing about yourself.”

“
You want me to leave the
mountains for you,” Cassie said.

Callum closed his eyes. She’d hit upon
the one thing he was asking her to change. “I can’t stay in the
Highlands, Cassie.”

“
And I can’t
leave.”

Cassie refused to talk to Callum about
it again. He stayed close to her as she fell asleep, and even
managed a few hours of sleep himself, though his heart was
heavy.

Because their mission was urgent, they
rose early, breakfasted quickly, and left Kilsyth two hours after
dawn. Although Cassie rode near Callum as they headed up the river
valley to Mugdock, she remained quiet. Callum and Andrew had a
quick debate about which path to take and in the end determined
that a visit to Patrick Graham on the way to wherever the
MacDougalls were fighting the Bruces was in order.

While the morning had dawned clear,
once the company left the main road for the smaller track heading
north, a swift mist came down from the mountains and settled on the
path. If others in the company hadn’t known the way—Cassie among
them—Callum would have gotten lost immediately.

“
Whatever has happened,
sir?” Samuel pulled in close to Callum’s left side, his eyes on
Cassie, who rode ten yards ahead near the front of the company.
“When did you two have time to quarrel?”

Callum glanced at Samuel, surprised
that he would bring up such a delicate subject—and lied through his
teeth. “We didn’t quarrel. We’re fine.” Callum eyed Cassie’s
straight back. She was giving nothing away. Callum feared that her
words of last night would become entrenched in her mind and no
amount of pleading on his part would change them.

Callum had experience with keeping
people he cared about at arm’s length. Who knew better than he
about the perils of opening up? It wasn’t even the possibility of
getting hurt that made him unapproachable. It was the knowledge
that what was going on inside his head was so horrific, if those he
loved knew what he was really like, they would turn away from him.
It was better—and easier—to push them away first. But for the first
time since the war, he didn’t feel that way. He wanted to share
himself with Cassie.

Samuel snorted. “You may be, but she’s
not.”

“
Let it go, Samuel. She’ll
come around.” Callum paused. “I hope.”

Mist or no mist, they found their way
to Mugdock unmolested and circled to the north of the loch, through
the site where Daddy Bruce and his men had camped a few days
before. The Bruce forces had left behind burned circles from their
campfires and trampled grass—and a castle in far worse shape than
when they’d found it.

Much of the palisade had burned,
though repairs had already begun. Not a single intact roof peeked
over the curtain wall. If the castle looked this bad from the
outside, the interior damage must be considerable. Even though the
only banner that the company carried was a white flag, nobody came
out to greet them. Callum couldn’t blame Lord Patrick for his
anger.

Cassie and Callum dismounted just
outside of arrow range, and Callum waved at the rest of the company
to stay astride. “Wait.”

“
My lord,” Andrew Moray
said, “this is foolish. He may be hostile.”

“
He may,” Callum said, “but
I trust him not to shoot first and ask questions later.” Callum
reached for the pole upon which the white flag hung, lifeless in
the fog with no breeze to fill it.

Cassie put a hand on Callum’s arm to
get his attention but then quickly dropped it. “Stay back with the
rest of your men. I would speak to Lord Patrick alone.”

“
That’s not a good idea,”
Callum said.

“
I’m a big girl, Callum. I
can do this.”

Callum had to catch her by the arm to
stop her from heading off immediately—and then had to stop himself
from shaking some sense into her. “Just because you’re capable of
doing something all by yourself doesn’t mean you have to, Cassie.
You don’t have anything to prove. Not to me! Why to
you?”

Cassie glared at Callum for a second
and made to wrench away, but then she took in a deep breath and let
it out. “You’re right. We did this together before. We can do it
again.”

Thank God for
that
. Leaving the other men still mounted,
Cassie and Callum walked together towards the gatehouse, through
the churned-up earth, debris, and refuse of war that hadn’t yet
been cleared. The fog had made the day cold, but Callum wore no
helmet or hood so his face would show to Lord Patrick and he would
know who was coming to speak to him.

One of the guards peered down at them
from the top of the palisade. He jerked his head at Cassie. “The
lord doesn’t want to talk to you. The last time you were here, you
took a prisoner with you, our only leverage against Robert
Bruce.”

“
Oh, be quiet, Rory.”
Donella popped up beside him. “Don’t speak unless you have
something useful to say.” She looked down at Callum and Cassie.
“He’s coming. He’s angry, but he’s coming.”

“
Thank you,” Callum
said.

As the gate opened, Cassie stirred
beside Callum. Lord Patrick came through it all by himself. He
looked past Cassie and Callum to the men who waited on horseback a
hundred feet away, nearly invisible in the heavy fog. “Is this all
you brought to finish us off?”

Callum stuck the flagpole in the
ground in front of him.

“
We’re not here to fight,”
Cassie said.

Lord Patrick kept his eyes fixed on
Callum, resolutely not looking at Cassie. “I only came to speak
with you because I understand that I have you to thank for my son’s
rescue. I would not want you to think me ungrateful.”

Cassie wasn’t giving up. “You’re
welcome. Now we need your help.”

Lord Patrick lifted his chin to point
behind them at the motley crew of Balliol and Bruce supporters, as
well as a few undecideds. “I see Andrew Moray rides with you.
And—good Lord!—is that Henry Percy? You clearly don’t need
me.”

“
You don’t know what we’re
asking of you yet,” Cassie said.

He glared hard at her. “You betrayed
me.”

“
I didn’t,” she said. “Or
at least, not in any way that mattered. It was Callum and I who
convinced Robert Bruce to break off his attack on you.”

“
Bruce and I were
conferring on a truce when he discovered your absence from his
camp,” Lord Patrick said. “His anger was a sight to
behold.”

“
You don’t need to concern
yourself with Bruce,” Callum said. “He will not trouble you
further.”

“
So you say.”

“
So I do say,” Callum said
and held Lord Patrick’s gaze for a count of ten.

Lord Patrick broke off the staring
contest to turn to Cassie. “So ask.”

“
Erik of Norway has come to
claim the throne of Scotland,” Cassie said. “He besieges Stirling
Castle even now. We ask that you gather all who support you and
come with us to Stirling.”

Lord Patrick’s surprise made him
forget that he was supposed to be angry at Cassie. His mouth opened
and closed, and then he rubbed at his chin as he looked at
her.

“
My lord—” One of the men
on the battlement called down to him, but Lord Patrick raised a
hand to stop him speaking.

He glared at Callum and swept out his
arm to indicate the destruction around them. “Do you not see what
Bruce has done to us? How can I leave Mugdock when we have been so
ill-used?”

“
What if I asked you to do
it?”

Cassie and Callum wheeled around to
see Robbie Bruce swing down from his saddle. A host of men, twice
the number of those Callum had brought, came to a halt on the far
edge of the clearing beside Callum’s men.

Lord Patrick’s face reddened. “How
dare you—”

Robbie bowed before him. “My father is
dead, my lord, as is Alexander MacDougall, both felled in a fight
that never should have been fought.”

Lord Patrick pressed his lips
together. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

If the face hadn’t been the same,
Callum wouldn’t have recognized Robbie by his manner.

“
Thank you,” Robbie said.
“I know now that Alexander MacDougall abducted your son to force
you to do his bidding. I have just heard that John is alive and
free.”

“
Yes.” Lord Patrick wasn’t
giving anything away, but this was the truth Callum had been
waiting for. Lord Patrick had been fearful when they’d spoken to
him a week ago. Now Callum knew the cause of his fear had been the
worst thing that could happen to a parent—the loss of his
child.

“
Erik of Norway must not be
allowed to take Stirling Castle. Regardless of your feelings
towards my family, we need you—Scotland needs you—to speak to the
men of your party—the MacGregors, the Comyns, and the
MacDougalls—and convince them that they must fight, even if it
means fighting beside us.”

“
John Balliol is among
those besieged at Stirling,” Cassie said.

“
And my grandfather, too?”
Robbie said.

Cassie nodded.

Robbie turned back to Lord Patrick, an
expectant expression on his face. Lord Patrick gave Robbie a long
look and then nodded. “I will come.”

A valley separated Callum’s company
from Stirling Castle. Smoke rippled from the homesteads and little
villages that Erik of Norway’s army had burned, avenging the death
of his daughter and hoping to subdue Scotland before it could
marshal its forces against him. The army circled the crag upon
which the castle perched. Roofs within the castle walls were on
fire too. Despite the speed at which they had ridden once they’d
left Mugdock, they had come almost too late.

Callum waved a hand to his captains.
“Spread the men along the cliff. I want Erik to see the force that
comes against him!”

Callum’s captains shouted orders to
their men, following his commands. Cassie sat on her horse to his
right. “They have to know they can’t maintain the siege under these
conditions,” she said. “James will charge out of the castle with as
many men as he can muster and they’ll be caught between
us.”

Robbie’s horse danced up to Callum,
Robbie’s eyes alight with what he believed already to be a victory.
“See them cower behind their shields! In a moment they will turn
and run.”

Callum looked into his face and then
at the men behind him. Unlike Robbie’s, their faces were set, grim
with the knowledge that they would lose men in the battle that was
to come. Experience told them it was inevitable. Erik of Norway
would make a stand, even if he had to fight on two fronts
simultaneously. He hadn’t come all the way from Norway to run away
with his tail between his legs at the first sign of resistance. His
men would never countenance it and he wouldn’t be able to call
himself King of Norway, much less King of Scotland, if he did
that.