MIASMIC Place Of Pendants 1

Chapter Twenty Five

Carrot Attack

Using my sgian dubh I began peeling them for a cookpot hanging over the fire. I would need water and there didn’t seem to be any about. I hummed and ahhed whether I should go find a bucket and walk to the sound of running water we had heard, when we first arrived. Then decided to wait for Conall to get back. I took the peelings back out to the garden. If I was going to take, then I needed to give back. By the time I returned to cut the last of my veggies up Conall arrived with two fish and a bucket of water.

“Oh, good you have water.”

Looking a little surprised he asked, “Are ye going to cook lass?”

“Yes Conall. I can cook you know.” I said in my sternest voice.

The way he had said it sounded like he thought I couldn’t cook. Perhaps he thinks I am just a bumbling useless female.

He lifted his hands in submission. I huffed turning back to the table to cut up the last pieces of the vegetables as he moved the chair back to give me more room. I could see him from the corner of my eye watching me with an amused look, arms crossed in front of his chest. No doubt thinking this was a worthy show.

As I cut down on a carrot it suddenly flew off the table, headed towards Conall catching him in the side of the face. I stood with my back against the table, hands to my mouth trying to hold back a giggle. The shocked look on his face was too much. I couldn’t hold back the laugh.

“Lass did ye no just attack me with a carrot?”

Bursting into another round of giggles tried to apologise.

“I’m…so…sorry.” I cried between chuckles.

“Aye I can see tha ye are.” Bending down to pick the attacking piece of carrot up, dusting it off he popped it into his mouth.

I tried to stem my laughter as tears rolled down my face.

“That’s…for the…cooking pot.” I stammered still giggling.

“No anymore.” He laughed with an impish grin. “Would ye like me to go ootside while ye cut tha rest of yer vegetables up? I’m no in the mind to be attacked again.”

I couldn’t answer him in case I fell into another round of giggles. Turning my back to the table I began cutting the rest up, careful to hang onto them should they fly across the room again.

I stopped cutting when I heard the sound of a horse coming near.

Conall jumped up, hand ready on his sword should we be attacked by more Brollachans. “Tis just me bràthair” Conall said with a resounding sigh before heading out the door. I was halfway across the room to grab Abbey from where I lay her on the bed. Huffing went back to the table.

Conall went outside and returned coming through the door with a young man I hadn’t seen before.

“Lass this ere me bràthair Dougall.” He stepped aside to allow the other man in the door.

Dougall was as tall but leaner than Conall with the same dark hair and blue eyes. He looked to be about eighteen or so. Two dimples on his cheeks were deep with a wide grin as he stepped forward and bowed to me.

“Milady.”

“Hi Dougall. Nice to meet you. Will you be staying for dinner?” I asked taking the vegetables to the cooking pot.

“Aye as I was saying to me bràthair here, da sent me to help ye in yer journey.” Conall was not looking too impressed with the arrival of his brother, or possibly that his father had sent him.

“Aye an I told ye I dinnae need any help. How did ye find us anyway?” Conall knew that Dougall was renowned for his tracking abilities as young as he was.

“Ack brother ye left a track a green Sassenach could find. I have a question though, how did ye get three men under a boulder?”

“Oh, that was me.” I smiled back wiping my hands down my front.

Dougall’s mouth dropped. “That was ye lass?” His eyes falling on Conall for a further explanation.

“I’ll tell ye all about it while we brush tha horses doon.” Conall grabbed Dougall’s shoulder and turned him to the door.

Dougall stopped halfway out. “My da said ye’re a right bonny lass milady, an he was right,” Conall pulled him through the door muttering God’s blood, as he did so.

Conall filled Dougall in about Andrew’s visit and what was expected of him. Dougall was insistent on going along. He attempted to talk him out of it, but Dougall was not taking no for an answer. His excuse was that he wanted the opportunity to meet the Bruce himself.

“Bràthair have ye been to Rathlin Island before? I have so ye will need me. I will no miss out on meeting tha Bruce.”

Dougall had been to Rathlin Island a year before and felt that he would be an asset on this mission. While they brushed the horses down Dougall gave Conall details about the layout of the island. Although Conall had not actually said he could go. Dougall took it for granted he did.

I cut up the gutted and descaled fish adding it to the cooking pot with herbs. Finding a small salt box, although there was barely a pinch of salt left, added that as well. After I cleaned the table I checked the quiver to see how many bolts I had left. There was only six. I would have to take time to make some more. Six was not enough should we be attacked again. It would seem that no matter where we went the Brollachan always knew our location.

I needed to find a solution, and fast. Maybe with Dougall here we had three heads to come up with some ideas.

When the fish stew was ready, I called Conall from the doorway. Searching the saddle bags, found some dry bannocks and cheese. Luckily the cupboard held wooden bowls and spoons.

Conall noticed me looking at the only two chairs in the room. He went back outside to bring one in from near the door. Filling the bowls with the fish stew I hoped it was at least tasty. I wasn’t a great cook, but I could at least put something edible together.

Mother had not been a great cook either, remembering being in the kitchen working on recipes together, then laughing as many turned out burnt or simply sad looking.

“Tis a fine pottage ye have made.” Dougall seated himself grinning as he wafted down the stew before his butt actually hit the seat.

“Just make sure ye leave tha room when tha lass is cutting vegetables.” Conall whispered to Dougall’s raised eyebrows. “Ye might be attacked by a carrot.”

“Aye and why tis so?”

I slanted my eyes at Conall although a smile plagued my face, thinking of Conall’s reaction when he was hit by the flying vegetable.

Conall gave me a side look, his face one of mirth. “Tha lass takes her anger oot on tha carrots an ye are likely to be attacked in tha process.”

Dougall broke out in a fit of laughter. “So, the mighty Dragon Blade ha been brought to his knees by a wee lass an a carrot.”

I looked up surprised to hear the term, Dragon Blade. Not hearing this before. “Dragon Blade?”

“Aye Conall here is known as the Dragon Blade in the highlands.”

Conall really didn’t want to discuss the name. It had been given to him when he was younger by his brothers. “It’s just a name.” he retorted giving Dougall a stern look.

Now this was strange. Why would Conall be so angry with Dougall for calling him the Dragon Blade, it seemed a fine name to me, a very fine name. I let the matter rest, for the moment.

“Dougall if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? That’s if I am not being too rude.”

“Nay I am eight and ten summers. And if’n I be no so rude can I ask ye yer age as well?”

“I am twenty-six.” I answered taking another mouthful of the stew. It didn’t taste too bad considering. “Conall what is your age?”

“I be six and twenty too.” He was surprised that he and Morgan were of the same age. He had thought that she was younger.

“Oh really, we are the same age? When is your birthday?”

Conall put his spoon down having finished his stew.

“April fourteen.”

“Noooo, that is my birthdate! We were born on the same day, what are the odds of that?” Conall’s face turned white as he and Dougall looked at each then back at me.

“Do you know what time you were born. I don’t actually know what time I was born, but my mother told me that the moment of my birth both the sun and the moon shared the sky together. Don’t you think that is just magical?” I prattled.

“Gods blood.” Conall exclaimed.

Conall’s face was now a ghostly white and his eyebrows almost disappearing under his hair they were so high.

“Bràthair did ma no say that when ye were born tha sun and moon where both in tha sky? I remember she telling ye many times. She believed tha sun being tha man an that moon being a lass was the only time of that day they could meet.”

I sat staring from one to the other holding my spoon in mid-air.

Conall got up from the table his face as if he had turned into a stone statue left the room and went outside, Dougall close on his heels.

I was dumbfounded myself. Conall and I were born at the same time. This was beyond bizarre. I thought him being born on the same day crazy, but at the same hour. I considered back to the half pendant in my box and the other half Conall had in his saddle bag. Is this what the two pendants meant by two souls?

Conall raked his fingers through his hair as he paced outside the hut. He didn’t know whether he felt set up or in some kind of weird nightmare. How could he and Morgan be born at the exact same time, on the same day. This had not been the case with previous Guardians and descendants of the Tuatha that he knew of.

What are the chances that the one person he was born to protect was...what? He was confused by it all.

“Conall do ye ken it strange that ye and the lass share the same?” Dougall asked keeping pace with his brother.

“Aye.”

Dougall continued. “Do ye think tis fated like?” Conall stopped his pacing. “Tis maybe that ye have more in common with tha lass than being her protector. Mind though after seeing legs o’ men under yon boulder, an lass did attack ye wit carrot. I’ve to wonder who the protector is.”

The last statement hit Conall hard in the guts. “Haud ye wheesht Dougall.” He snapped at his brother, returning to pacing. Conall had already thought about how it was more Morgan protecting him than the other way around.

However, he also remembered how Morgan’s face had lit up with laughs and giggles at the carrot incident. A sight he wished never to forget. Morgan suddenly appeared with a flask of whiskey.

“I thought you might like a drink.” I said sheepishly hoping that Conall had settled down. He seemed agitated or a little angry when he left the hut. It was possibly that the new revelation of our births was for him a little daunting and it was a simple case of letting him digest and process the information. I was finding it intriguing.

When I was in school a classmate was fanatical about numerology, so much so that she had gone to the trouble of working out everyone in the class’s supposed future. She said that I was destined for great things and lots of travel.

Lots of travel I was doing, though I never anticipated I would be flitting through time, having abilities, a wolf and a warrior as my protectors. It was enough to make a girl’s head swim. There was one thing though she did say that I had thought to ignore. I would meet my flame. To me actors and singers where flames, which I never expected to include me, but a Guardian and Protector?

Conall seemed to be more relaxed even smiling at me as I handed him the flask. “Are you alright Conall?”

“Aye lass I am, thank ye fer tha whisky.” He took the lid off, taking a swig before handing it to Dougall.

“By tha way I will be coming with ye in tha morning to Rathlin Island to save tha Bruce.” Dougall grinned taking a gulp of the scotch.

“Right then.” Saying no more I made my way back to the hut.

The light was fading and only by the glow of the fire in the hearth was there any light at all. I sat on the bed to clean Abbey. Dougall popped his head through the door a little later to say goodnight. He was going to bunk down with the horses. I had fussed over in my mind if there was enough room in this small hut for both he and Conall to be sleeping.

Conall came in shortly shutting the door and dropping the bar across it. He unsheathed his claymore, sword and dirks propping them on the floor beside the door. I watched him beneath hooded eyes, his face composed not giving away anything.

I absentmindedly cleaned Abbey with a rag as I continued to watch him. I watched the muscles rippling on his chest and arms beneath his shirt. His hair brushing against his face.

He is just so damned beautiful, men are supposed be handsome, no he was definitely beautiful. Frustrating as hell, even irritating at times. He sat on a chair to remove his belt; he must have sensed I was observing him.

“Did yer bow survive tha attack lass?”

“She’s not damaged, still in one piece thank goodness.”

“Aye.” He muttered pulling off his boots. Removing his plaid laid it down on the floor in front of the door. He saw me look at the plaid then back at him. I didn’t say anything though. If he was going to sleep on the floor, then so be it.

I was too tired for a round of sardonic perhaps comical jests between the two of us that had become a common routine. He stood for a moment as if waiting for me to say something.

When I didn’t, he laid himself down and tucked his hands under his head.

I assumed that his thoughts on both of us being born at the same moment was playing on his mind as it was for me. He must be as confused as I was. I also wondered at his name of Dragon Blade. There were no dragons in Scotland, and to my knowledge there had never been so. Perhaps it was just an adage in this time, in this Scotland.

There was no linen on the bed just two blankets, so I only took off my boots and belts. Laying on the bed fully clothed. In the morning, we would go to save the Bruce, and now Dougall was coming with us. Although I felt safe with Conall I was glad he was coming.

The fire kept the hut warm. I laid on my side watching Conall still with his hands behind his head. His face glowing with the light from the fire.

I wondered what it was about him that made my stomach flutter, most of the time. Then there were his moods, I had never come across anyone that could change temperament as fast as lightning. One minute he could be happy and smiling, the next all serious and stern. Thinking about the kisses brought a smile to my face. Not forgetting he could go from romantic to Mr I’m-on-a-mission faster than an express train.

Recollecting the softness of his lips I shut my eyes as his voice, almost a whisper crossed the room.

“Lass?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Do…ye no find it…strange that we aye born at tha same time?”

“Strange yes.” I drowsily answered.

“Do ye think we may be connected in some way, from birth that is ta say?”

“Hmmm, maybe. I could be your sister.” I said yawning

“Sista!”

“Would you be disappointed if I was?” Although tired I was curious at what reaction that would incite from him.

“Aye, I would be mightily disappointed. I can no see ye as me sista.”

“Oh, and why might that be?” Conall huffed turning on his side facing the door. I had said that I was too tired to jest this night but couldn’t help the last remark. Reminiscing again about the kisses. It had not been a brotherly kiss by anyone’s standards.

“Goodnight, brother.” I yawned again turning my back to him with an inner giggle. I was sure I heard, albeit quietly his famous words ‘Gods blood’.