Sneaks (5 page)

“I . . . I can’t remember."

He looked at me again, his eyebrows coming together.

“What happened to the bairn?”  

"He was bitten by a wolf. I saved him.”

“How?”

“I threw a rock at it – the wolf.”

“Did ye kill it?”

“I . . . I don’t know.”

“What did the wolf look like?”

“A wolf. A big ugly, hairy monster of a wolf.” I didn't know what else to say. I wasn't even totally sure it had been a wolf.

“Did it have any special marks?”

I thought back. “I think it had a mark on its forehead, but I can’t be sure.”

His eyes squinted

I waited. 

“Where?” he said.

“Where what?”

“Where was the animal that ye hit?”

“I don’t know. I was close to the woods when I heard the baby cry. Once I got the baby from the woods, I went toward the woman named Berna’s house. I probably walked for just over an hour before getting to her house and I was walking away from the sun.” It was the best I could do.  

The man stood. I was right, he was tall. I leaned back and the chair scooted slightly.

“What is yer name?”

“Kally Bright.”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t lock ye in the dungeon.”

“I saved the baby.”

“I’ll see if I can find yer wolf – dead – to prove yer story. Ye’d better hope that I do,” he said as he glared down at me. “If I do, ye wilna be harmed. Corc!”

The door opened immediately. “Lord Duncan.”

“Take the girl to the dungeon. Have her tell ye where the wolf was. Send some men.” He turned, his wide back almost completely covered with his long dark hair.

“No, wait!” I said. “I have . . . I have more.”

“More what?” Duncan faced me again.

“I can do more. I can give you a reason not to put me in the dungeon.”

“I’m listening.”

“I can fix the clock.” I pointed to the beautiful timepiece I had noticed before.

Lord Duncan laughed. “Now why would that be enough for me to keep ye out of the dungeon?”

I shrugged. “How long has it been broken?”

“I dinna ken.” He looked at the clock. “For some time.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to have it working? And what about the other clocks in the castle, are they all working? I can fix them all. People forget how much they like their clocks when they’re not working. They usually like them to be fixed.”

“Corc, have we no one who fixes the clocks?” Duncan asked.

“I’m not aware of anyone lord, but I could conduct a search.”

Lord Duncan marched to the ledge and grabbed the clock. He carried it to the table and set it down with a thud. I cringed. The clock was one of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. Even though it was old to someone from 2184, it wasn’t worn like most of the clocks I fixed at home. The wood case was low and squat and had lions carved into it on each side of the face. The face was some sort of white ceramic and the numerals looked like carved stone but I couldn’t be sure.

I reached into my pocket.

“Lass, what are ye doing?” Lord Duncan asked.

“My tools are in my pocket.” I pulled them out and set them on the table.

“Ooch, these are sharp. They could be used as weapons,” Corc said.

“You think I could stop either of you with this?” I held up a small thin screwdriver. “Really?”

Corc looked at Lord Duncan, who raised his eyebrows in doubt.

“Continue, lass,” Lord Duncan said.

I’d never repaired a clock in front of an audience, especially one that wanted to put me in a dungeon. But, the fix might easy. Once I removed the face, it was clear that the only problem was with the mainspring. I put everything back to where it was supposed to be, put the face back on, set the time and wound the key that was inserted in the back. The clock began its rhythmic tick-tock, and I smiled, pleased with myself.

“There,” I said, feeling no less satisfaction than I ever felt when wheels started turning and gears moved with ease. “I can do that for almost any broken clock.”

Lord Duncan stared at me as rubbed his finger under his nose. “I have no idea why yer skill might be valuable, but I do like that the clock is working.” He sat down. “I’m Brian Duncan, the laird of this land. Ye’ll not leave the castle without permission, but I will allow ye to live outside the dungeon. We’ll gather all the broken clocks, if there are any others, and ye’ll fix them. I’ll look into yer wolf story and we’ll see what to do with ye then.”

“I understand.” I would escape from this place the second everyone’s back was turned. I might even use my tools as weapons.

“Corc, take her to Una. She must dress appropriately. Find her a room to sleep and a place to work on the clocks.”

“Aye, yes, Lord Duncan.”

Corc made a move to grab my arm again, but I pulled it back.

“I’ll go with you. You don’t need to shove me around,” I said, even fear for my life didn’t stop me. I’d never been man-handled but it only took it happening once to realize I didn’t like it. My arm was tender where he had already grabbed it tightly.

For a long moment, I thought I might have made them change their minds and they’d send me to the dungeon.

“She’s a lass, Corc, no matter how she dresses. The bairn is safe, we ken that now. Ye’ll not hurt her,” Duncan said softly.

“Aye.” Corc obeyed but I could tell he didn’t want to.

I stood and put my tools back into my pocket. I looked at the laird, who looked back at me with an expression I couldn’t read. He seemed suddenly sad, maybe. I turned to follow Corc.

Silently, he led the way down another long hallway. The castle was big, but the halls didn’t seem complicated. I could get lost, but I’d probably be able to find my way out of whatever maze I got myself into. I tried to memorize everything. I was going to escape, but I would have to wait until the time was right, and who knew where I’d be when that happened.

“Una," Corc said into an open doorway. "The lass needs yer attention. The laird wants her to dress more respectable. She’s to have a room with a bed and some space to work. She’s a magic touch with clocks.”

“Clocks?” Una said as she met Corc at the doorway. “How is she magic?”

“She fixes them.”

Una continued to look perplexed for a moment, but she shrugged and extended her hand. “Come in, lass. We’ll take care of ye.”

Corc turned and walked back the other direction.

I didn’t take Una’s hand. I was tired of being touched, even if she seemed like she might be gentle. She didn’t seem to mind and motioned me in.

The room was as large as the laird's, filled with a bed, a dresser of sorts and something that I thought was called a wardrobe.

Along with Una, two young girls were in the room.

“Bonnie,” Una said to a young girl who badly needed to wash her long red hair, “fetch some water. Help me clean and dress this one so she looks not so much like a beggar. We’ll need something a bit bigger than normal.”

Whether or not I looked like a beggar, I knew I looked different than everyone else. I was dressed differently, and I was also bigger than everyone. I wasn’t overweight, but I was so much taller than the women and some of the men I had seen, that I must have looked gigantic. I was a gigantic beggar from 2184.

“Maisie, off with ye to find something she can eat.” Maisie had a head full of brown curly hair. She kept her glance to the ground and curtsied before leaving the room. I hoped no one asked me to curtsie.

“What is yer name, lass?” Una asked when we were alone.

“Kally. Kally Bright.”

“Weel, Kally, ye certainly canna dress like yer dressed.”

It was awful to be touched and prodded at by so many people, but at least they weren't shoving me around. Soon, I was scrubbed, combed, braided and dressed in a yellow dress that itched a little and was too tight in my shoulders. The dress didn’t cover my ankles and that seemed to be an issue, but Una didn’t have an immediate solution to the problem. I tried on some shoes that were similar to my Govment-issued flats, but they were all too small, so I kept my new sneakers. The dress had pockets so I had a place to put my tools, which were interesting for only a second to my dressers.

I had never worn a dress. I'd never wanted to wear a dress, and this one was worse than any I could have imagined. It dug into my shoulders and made me feel naked and airy. Why did women ever wear these?

“There, that will have to do,” Una said as she tied a ribbon in my hair, and brushed some reddish powder on my cheeks. I wasn’t a ribbon or make-up sort of girl, either, but I figured I’d save my battles for something more important. “Not the best, but the best we can do for now.” Her disapproving glance started at the ribbon and stopped at my shoes.

“I dinna ken about those shoes, lass.”

As I shrugged, my stomach growled – no, roared.

“Och, of course ye are hungry. Go, eat the food.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I sat on the edge of the bed and took the plate that had been placed on the dresser. I ate bread with butter and drank milk. Everything tasted so good. I wasn’t used to eating bread so thick or real butter. We ate fine at home, but nothing was homemade like this tasted.  

“Where’re ye from, Kally?” Una asked as she wrung out some of the wash cloths they had used to get me cleaned up.

“I don’t remember. Some place not close to Scotland. Maybe near London.” London’s name hadn’t changed for centuries.

“Ye dinna remember?”

I shrugged.

Una’s eyes pinched and she looked down her long hook nose. She thought there was something wrong with my story. I kept silent. 

I ate, as lady-likely as I could, and drank the perfect milk. After Bonnie left the room, Una and Maisie watched me, Una wasn't shy, but Maisie was. They had other things to discuss between the two of them. At first I tried to listen as they talked about household chores and what was to be done before the weekend after next, during which a great party was planned. I was more interested in my food than the castle list-of-things-to-do, but my ears perked at the idea of a party. A busy castle might provide me with the opportunity I needed to escape.

“Miss,” a voice squawked from the doorway. We all turned to see Ian, his face burning slightly from his voice break, standing impatiently.

“Ah, Ian, lad. When Mistress Kally is finished eating, will ye please take her to the kitchen. I’ve asked Bonnie to set her up a corner worktable. She’ll be fixing clocks, of all things.”

I chewed on the bread and glanced at Ian. He seemed scared or nervous about something. Was he scared of Una? Had Corc done something to him?

“Aye,” he said, as he looked every direction but at me.

I gulped down the last of the milk and shoved the last piece of bread in my mouth. I wanted to ask for more, but if I was going to work in the kitchen I might be able to get some on my own.

“Off with ye, lass,” Una said.

I nodded again and joined Ian in the hall.

“This way, Mistress Kally.”

I was taller than him, but not much.

“Ye look nice,” he said. Even in the dim light, I could see his face blush.

“Uh, thanks,” I said. “I think the laird wanted me dressed like this instead of in my jeans . . . uh, pants and shirt.”

“Was he kind to ye?”

“At first he was mean, but then he wasn’t terrible.”

“He’s having a difficult time.”

“Why?”

Ian stopped walking and looked at me. “He didna tell ye?”

“I . . . I don’t think so.”

“The bairn, the babe, he’s my brother, taken from our mother’s death bed. He was barely a month old when she died. The laird’s our father.”

“Oh.” That explained some things at least. Lots of things.

“Oh,” I repeated. “Ian, I didn’t take your brother. I saved him. From some wild animal. I think it was a wolf.”

Ian’s eyes pinched. “I hope ye didna take him. If my father thought ye did, ye’d be in the dungeon.”

“I didn’t. I swear.”

“Och, ye shouldna swear.” Ian turned and continued walking.

I kept my mouth shut.

Ian stopped again when we reached a fork in the hallway. “Do ye want to see him again, my brother?”

“Um, sure,” I said, thinking that’s what I should say. I was glad the baby was being cared for, but I was relieved not to be the one who had to figure out what to do with him.

I followed him down another hallway.

“This is Mac’s room.”

“Mac?”

“Aye. His name is MacCauley McCandlass Duncan. Mac.”

“I like that.”

We went into a room that was full of busy women.

Mac was on some thick blankets on a table. A young girl tickled his belly and talked to him. The wound on his arm was covered with something much cleaner than what I and Berna had used. He looked up at the girl. Other women moved about the room doing all sorts of things – folding clothes, cleaning and who knew what else.