Aimnéise Place of Pendants 2

Chapter Thirteen

Scotland 1736

I was downright fuming to be stood in front of the Cailleach when my wife could be in danger. I didn’t care if Malcolm II was in trouble, surely it could have waited until after I had retrieved Morgan.

“Agnes it cannae be tha Brollachans. Surely giving tha box back to tha Tuatha stopped them from going after Morgan?” I was on my feet my fist clenching at my sides.

“Conall I ken ye are wanting tae find ye wife, but tis important, an we no ken who ha’ taken him. Our sources say it was Brollachans. We cannae ignore this. Tis why ye need tae find him, an ye will do as I say.” The Cailleach was not one to be argued with and that just made me angrier, and more frustrated.

“It still could a waited, I cannae see what tha urgency is. Something does no add up Agnes.” I muttered to her. It didn’t add up and that was the problem, something about this felt…fishy. Over the years Agnes had many jobs for me, flitting from one century to the next. Rescuing or fixing historical errors that occurred for whatever reason. My gut was telling me something was off, even Agnes’s attitude was uncommon.

“Ye will do as I tell ye Conall, ye an Dougall. Ye will go an save Malcolm an if’n ye do it quick like then ye can go after ye wife.” The Cailleach demanded.

In all the years I had known her she had never spoken to me in such a caustic manner.

I turned to Dougall sitting on the chair looking like death warmed up. I ken it was from the amount he drank. Although he held a barrel full of coffee in his stomach, he would still be feeling the aftereffects.

“Dougall do ye agree tha we should be doing this instead of going after Morgan? Does this all feel right to ye?

Dougall shook his head, wishing he hadn’t, it was still pounding from the amount of mead he had drunk. Unlike what his bràthair thought he wasn’t there for a good time, even though it turned into such. He was simply trying to hide from his own disappointment at himself and sadness of losing Morgan. He still felt he was to blame.

He agreed with Conall though. There was something here that wasn’t right.. He had been in this room many times but even the scent of the place was different, denser and staler, with a strange but very faint odor, of what he did not know.

Her attitude and the way she was speaking to Conall was out of character for her. If his head wasn’t so fuzzy, he would have a clearer thought about this whole situation.

Regardless he would do what Conall said and back him up no matter if he went on this mission or against the Cailleach. He didn’t hold out the prospect of not going on this mission. He feared if they did not, it would however, result in their slow deaths. The Cailleach was powerful for whatever she was, witch or God, he never did ken.

I crossed my arms understanding that Dougall was in agreement with me. We had two choices here. We either did what the Cailleach requested, or we didn’t. I ken she was not human and never had been, but she had always been fair and caring towards me and my family until now. I didn’t much like the prospect of her using her powers against me or one of my bràthairs, or da. She could as Andrew said take the pendant from me. Leaving me with the impossible task of travelling to another time. No matter what, I had to go and then go save my wife.

“Agnes we will do this but it no feels right.” That was all I was going to say on the matter. I would deal with this at another time. She gave me a nod and then spoke about the mission.

Malcolm II had disappeared a day out from Morphet Castle after having secret negotiations with Edward III. The only date Agnes could give us was around September 1366. Her informants told her they suspected that it was Brollachans, but no one had seen them. This trip amped up my speculation that we were standing on the wrong end of a seesaw.

I will begrudgingly go and save this damned Malcolm with the hope that I could pull off the quickest retrieval in history. Once it was done though and we had found Morgan I was going to come back here and have it out with Agnes. If she didn’t like it then I would quit. She could find some other lackey to do her missions, and if that meant giving back the travel pendant then so be it.

Morgan and I would decide which time to live in and the rest be damned to hell. It didn’t matter where we lived as long as we were together. Fuck I would live in a barn as long as I had her by my side.

When Agnes had finished talking we found ourselves once more outside staring at the tiny doorway. She had whisked us out before we could say anything further.

“That was bloody rude.” Dougall muttered. “She didn’t even give us whiskey, an she always gives us a dram when we come tae see her.”

“Ne’er mind about ye bloody whisky, something dosnae feel right about all of this. Something was off about Agnes.”

“There’s never been anything right about her, but aye I agree my gut tells me something is wrong.”

“Let’s get this job finished then go find my wife.”

I was about to grab Dougall’s shirt to whisk us to 1366 when he suggested we stop at an inn first, because he was starving. Of course, he was. Dougall had empty legs when it came to food, however I was hungry myself not having had the pies at Morgan’s store before transporting to the Glasgow Art Gallery. I wondered now what had happened to those pies.

Looking in the direction of Altnaharra where I had taken Morgan after our meeting with the Cailleach was a little unsettling.

“I can see by ye look tha ye don’t want tae go to yon Altnaharra. How about we drop inta Bags and Pipes. Ye did no take Morgan there did ye?”

“Nay.” I needed to block the thoughts out of my mind of our last visit here and get on with this damned job. Grabbing a hold of Dougall’s shirt we travelled to the Bags and Pipes inn, landing behind the stables.

The trip to the inn was quick just long enough to eat and drink then we whizzed through time to 1366 not far from Morphet Castle.

It was agreed that Dougal would make his way around the back of the castle and find a young maid. In the hopes of acquiring some information. Dougall had a gift of sweet talking with the lasses, well most of the time. I had no intention of sweet talking anyone. I was a marrit man now, not that I had ever been a sweet talker, except when it came to Morgan, and even that had its difficulties.

Maids were often happy to disclose information if they were being chatted up by a good-looking man. I knew that Dougall was really good at chatting any female. I rolled my eyes skyward remembering Mertyl the Amazon woman, at the inn where we had stayed on our way to the Callanish stones. She had initially taken a dislike to Dougall, going as far as wanting him to sleep with the pigs. It was a different story the next morning catching Dougall walking out of her room, a stupid smile on his face. Yep that boy could charm the evil out of a demon, as long as it was a female.

I heard a branch snap behind me and then cursed for not picking up my sword from Sloane’s and Ula’s, where I had left the blasted thing. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t brought my sword. The only thing I had on me was a dagger at my waist.

This is what Ula always went on at me about. When I rushed, I became complacent and took risks that would get a normal person killed.

If I hadn’t left in such a temper, I would have had my brain in good working order and not the confused addled mess I was in. I wouldn’t have forgotten my fucking sword.

Before I could move guards came from all directions surrounding me. Some with swords and others with spears all pointed in my direction. My thoughts went to what Morgan would say. Conall you are a complete dick.

One of them stepped forward. “Are ye Conall Sutherland?” God’s blood this was a trap.