Between (5 page)

The entrance to the cellar was a heavy wooden door with a metal handle. Aiden strode back and forth, muttering under his breath in a language I didn’t understand. The Spaniard clearly didn’t understand it either and sat on the wooden chair next to the door, waiting for him to calm down. Finally, his anger dissipated enough for Delgado to risk conversation. His accent was thick, but it was obvious he was going to great pains not to upset Aiden further.

“
Excuse me, sir, but what is in this cellar that is so important it takes two grown men to guard it?”

Aiden’s glare made it clear he thought this a stupid question. “The gunpowder,” he barked and resumed his pacing.

Delgado’s eyes flittered around the small space and he shifted his weight in the chair. “Surely it can’t be that much, can it?” he asked.

Affronted, he retorted with pride, “Aye, we’ve collected 343 barrels of powder and 52 barrels of musket shot for our march on Inverness. Those bloody lobsterbacks will get what is coming to them!” Delgado’s eyes grew wide and Aiden went on, boasting. “We’ve another stash in the kirk down the hill so we can hit them from both sides.” Convinced that he’d impressed the Spaniard enough, he went back to pacing.

The battle had begun outside and faint cries wafted down the staircase. Occasionally, the walls and ground would shake as a cannon ball struck the outside of the stone walled castle. Delgado fidgeted nervously, not speaking, and Aiden paid him no attention, lost in his own thoughts.

Another shot rattled the enclosure. The Spaniard leapt to his feet. “I must relieve myself.”

Aiden waved his hand absentmindedly. “The privy’s out behind the stable.”

Delgado looked ready to flee, but turned and asked, “Will you be all right while I am gone?”

“
I think I can bloody well manage to guard the door while you take a piss!”

Delgado streaked up the stairs and out of sight without another word. Time seemed to crawl by as Aiden paced, then sat, then kicked the cellar door, all the while muttering to himself. The sounds of battle and firing cannon from outside seemed to agitate him further. We heard light footsteps approaching on the stairs and he sprang into action, sword at the ready. His eyes danced with fury and anticipation as he prepared to finally meet the enemy. With his back pressed against the wall, he listened, waiting for the moment the English soldier would come into the clear.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and lunged forward with a cry,
“Sgurr Uaran!”
A split second before his sword came down, he stopped and jumped back.

A thin, red-haired boy screamed. “It’s me, Willie!”

Aiden’s face went white as a sheet. “What in the name of God are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be with Mam! I could have killed you just now, ye wee fool!”

Willie held out a loaf of bread and flask of whisky to him and his stomach growled in response. “You shouldn’t be here. Does Mam know that you’ve gone?” he asked, though his tone had softened.

Willie smiled mischievously. “I told her I had to use the privy and then I snuck down to bring you some food.”

At the sound of the word ‘privy’ Aiden’s head snapped up. His face froze in horror as the realization sank in that the Spaniard had never come back. “Holy mother of God,” he whispered. Willie looked at him in confusion and fear. Aiden took a dagger from his belt and pressed it into the boy’s hands. “Take my dirk and guard the door. If anyone comes, remember how I showed you. One stroke with all your strength, under the breastbone and push up.”

He mimicked the motion on his own chest, pointing out exactly where the knife should penetrate. Mustering all his courage, Willie drew himself up tall and nodded. Aiden hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away and held him by the shoulders. “You’ll do fine. I love you, lad.” Then he turned and bolted up the stairs. He ran full bore, scanning the grounds and water in search for the Spaniard.

Acrid smoke filled the sky and the walls of the castle were badly damaged from the battle. Three English warships were in plain view; the sound of their belching cannons was deafening. He spotted Delgado streaking across the other side of the loch. It was too late to stop the traitor. He cried out in anguish and fell to his knees in shame. The Spaniard would tell the English of the hundreds of barrels of gunpowder and shot stored within the castle, a fact that he himself had made known in his boasting.

A soldier from the closest ship spied him and fired a musket. The ball struck Aiden in the left shoulder and knocked him backward. I watched in horror, unable to do anything to help. Blood began flowing freely from the wound and he scrambled to the stables for cover. Within minutes, a longboat carrying six Englishmen was launched, covered by heavy cannon fire.

Aiden ran down low and took cover behind a boulder near the water’s edge. He waited until the boat had drawn close to the shore and fired his pistol. One man went down and the rest turned to see where the shot had come from. Aiden ducked behind the rock and waited as the shots from the boat whizzed past him on either side. Realization crossed his features and he breathed in horror, “Willie. Oh, blessed Jesus.”

The longboat landed on the shore with a thud and the men splashed into the water to pull it onto land. Aiden dropped his empty pistol and came streaking out from behind the rock, screaming a war cry with his sword held high in the air. He swung the heavy sword across the neck of the first soldier coming toward him. Blood spurted in a stream as his head flew away from his body. Bile rose in my throat and I stifled a scream.

Two other men converged on him, wielding bayonets as they scrambled onto the shore. He ran his sword through the guts of one soldier and spun around to face the next. The Englishman thrust his bayonet through Aiden’s upper thigh. His face clenched with pain as he sliced the man through the chest with his massive sword. The soldier made a sickening gurgling sound as he fell dead.

Two of the redcoats remained near the boat and one took aim, but his musket misfired. He swore and instead swung it with both hands and cracked Aiden in the skull with the butt of the gun. He crumbled in a bloody heap on the ground.

The soldier drew his sword to strike the killing blow, but the officer swore at him impatiently. “Leave him! He’ll either die where he lies or we’ll circle back to hang him later. Move out!” The soldier spat at Aiden, then broke into a run behind the officer, disappearing into the castle.

Tears streamed down my face as I imagined the scene inside with Willie bravely guarding the door against the two Englishmen. He was only a boy and I knew he had no chance of survival. The waiting was gut wrenching and I breathed out a mournful sigh when I saw the English officer running full-tilt away from the castle. He was alone and I realized with a surge of pride that Willie must have been successful in carrying out his brother’s instructions with the dirk he’d been given.

The vibrations of the Englishman’s footsteps as he passed stirred Aiden into consciousness and he moaned, trying to sit up. The officer jumped into the boat and bent down to pick up the oars. Aiden took a small knife from his sock and flung it with all his might at the man. The blade stuck cleanly into the base of the man’s skull and he fell forward into the boat with a thud. Aiden collapsed with the effort. With an ear-splitting roar, the barrels of gunpowder caught fire and the castle exploded around us. Aiden’s limp body was blown across the grounds and against the rock where he’d been hiding before.

He reached out, grasping blindly and finally closed his hand around the pistol he’d left there earlier. He loaded the pistol with his eyes closed and cocked back the hammer.

To my horror, he pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger.

I shrieked and covered my mouth with my hand. I turned to Aiden standing next to me to see his eyes filled with pain, searching mine for forgiveness and understanding.

“
Oh my God, Aiden.” I wrapped my arms tight around him and held him so close I could hardly breathe. His stiff body relaxed in my arms and then shook as he quietly sobbed, his head on my shoulder. I kissed his temple and whispered words of comfort, wishing I could hold him tight enough to somehow make it right.

Slowly, our breathing fell into synch, our chests rising and falling together. Strength from my body flowed into him, then returned to me. The air caressed us, binding us together. When I opened my eyes, we were standing in the clearing where we’d had our picnic. He took a deep breath and straightened, then pulled away and wiped his face with his palm. I stayed close by his side, holding one hand, unwilling to let go.

His voice trembled as he continued his story. “And then an angel stood before me, blazing white and gold, with eyes like flames and a sword made of fire. I fell down on my face, shaking with fear at the sight of him. His voice was the sound of a raging thunderstorm and it filled my head so as it would explode. He said ‘Aiden Alexander MacKenzie MacRae, God is not pleased with what you have done. But do not be afraid, for you have found favor with the Almighty One. You will not enter heaven now but instead, you will transport God’s chosen ones to join Him there.’ And that’s what I’ve been doing every day since.”

“
For three hundred years,” I breathed.

He raised his eyebrows, and then made a grunting noise in his throat. His eyes locked onto mine with brutal honesty. “I am so ashamed of what I’ve done that I can never forgive myself. My family was killed and my home was destroyed because of my pride. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the English found me and I’d be hanged as a rebel. I didn’t want anyone to know it was my fault. I was a fool and a coward.”

He dropped his gaze to the ground and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“
No!” Shock and defensiveness sprang up in me at his words. I grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look at me. “Aiden MacRae, you are neither a fool nor a coward. You were shot in the shoulder and stabbed through the leg, and you still killed five men by yourself, for crying out loud!”

All my pent-up emotion took over and I pounded his chest with my fists as if to beat my words into him. He didn’t flinch.

“
That damn Spaniard was the coward, not you. He was the one who betrayed your family, not you. You gave everything you had to try and save them. You’re a freakin’ hero! Do you hear me, dammit? You are NOT a coward!” He gently pulled my arms down so I couldn’t hit him anymore.

“
Thank you.” His voice was solemn and quiet.

As quickly as it had come, my anger dissipated at his words and I let out a deep breath. A smile played across his lips as he watched me deflate from my puffed up state.

“
You’re fair beautiful when you’re angry.”

His statement caught me off guard.

“
Shut up!” I punched him on the arm and he winced playfully. But then he shook his head and grinned, gathering me into his arms. I struggled for a second, but quickly relaxed in his embrace.

“
I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I like it when you’re angry. You’re like a mother cat protecting her litter.” He squinted and made a hissing sound, his hand curled like a cat’s claw. I smacked him again out of principle.

“
Stop it, you.” I gave him my best glare, but I couldn't hold it and finally let loose a giggle. He bent his face to mine and lifted my chin with a curled finger. I pressed myself into him and pulled him close. His hands caressed my neck up and down as we kissed. Melting into him, I couldn’t tell where I left off and he began.

Thank you, my sweet.

The words formed inside my head and I heard them in his voice, yet I was certain he had not said them aloud. I gazed up at him in surprise, the unasked question on my face.

Eyes filled with a mixture of relief and adoration, he smiled down at me like he’d finally trusted his best friend to keep his deepest secret. I shook my head in confusion and started to say something but he put a finger to my lips.

“
I asked the angel if I would ever see heaven. He said, ‘There is one whose love will redeem you.’ I asked him how I’d know that one, and he said, ‘You will know.’ And I do.”

I felt as if my heart would burst, entranced by his gaze. Air was not moving in my chest, and I uttered weakly, “How do you know I am that one?”

His brows drew together in a slightly pained expression and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “When I showed you my death, my shame. And you held me. I heard your sweet voice in my head. You said everything would be fine, that you were here now and that you’d never leave me.”

I froze, remembering that I’d willed those very words to him in my mind. And he’d heard them, in his head, the way I’d heard him just now in mine. I was suddenly reminded of exactly what I’d wanted to do with him on the picnic blanket. I jerked back from him, my cheeks aflame.

“
You don’t hear all my thoughts, do you?”

He threw his head back with an uproarious laugh and I narrowed my eyes in my most menacing glare, which made him laugh harder. “Gracious, woman, what kind of thoughts have you been thinking that you don’t want me to know?” His eyes danced with naughtiness and I turned away from him in an embarrassed huff. He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me easily to him. He stroked my cheek, his eyes tender.

“
Ah, my brown haired lassie, I cannot give you heaven, at least not with me. But I can show you the most beautiful palace in all of France. You can even see the king of France himself, King Louis XIV, if you like.” One corner of his mouth curled up in a satisfied grin. He’d caught me hook, line and sinker with that invitation and he knew it.