Bannockburn Binding (Beloved Bloody Time) (9 page)

“Someone you cannot keep, Rob. I must return home. Soon. Time is running out for me.”

Natália. Can you hear me?

She quivered inside Rob’s arms and began to shiver. She recognized the light mental touch immediately.

Lee?
She whispered in her mind, hope and disbelief battling within her.

“Ye’re shaking, Tally,” Rob said. “What ails ye?”

I am at the marker. Bring me to you.
Lee’s mental voice was as commanding as his normal voice.

Thinking words would take too long and Rob was already concerned. So she thrust feelings, images and ideas at Lee and hoped he would be able to sort through them all.
But I can reach here,
she added, showing Lee an image of the location she had in mind and how to reach it from the marker.

I’ll be there.
Lee’s mental presence withdrew.

Rob cocked his head. “Your thoughts are elsewhere,” he accused her.

“Actually they’re…well, can we take a walk, you know…?” She tried to look coy and embarrassed.

“Ah…” He released her and got to his feet, giving her a glimpse of hard thighs and more that made her heart race. He tugged on the rope between them and helped her up.

They walked out of the camp, stirring little interest. Robert MacKenzie’s hostage had long since become a fixture. Even having her hobbled to his wrist had faded as a sensation. Their daily strolls into the woods for private functions were just as routine.

Tally looked for Leuwis as they moved through the camp and saw that he was feeding the horses. Rob had arranged for the man to earn his keep. On the occasions when Tally managed to glimpse him, he seemed well enough for a manservant at the beck and call of some of the toughest soldiers in the world. He was at least surviving and that was all she could arrange for now.

They moved through the woods to the shallow ravine where Tally could have as much privacy as could be arranged with a man tied to her wrist. Even in this matter Rob remained adamant and the rope stayed in place.

They were almost at the ravine when Lee stepped around the bole of one of the largest trees, onto the path before them.

“Natalie,” he said simply. He was wearing the clothing of an upper class English lord.

It happened too fast for Tally’s human senses to follow. There was a ring of steel, a flash of silvery brightness and a swish of steel passing through air. Lee seemed to sway back, then stepped sideways and threw his arm up.

Two swords came clashing together right in front of her, locked almost at the hilts.

“No! Rob, no,” Tally cried, trying to turn to explain, but the rope on her wrist wound around her hips and anchored her. “He is a friend!”

Lee’s gaze took in the rope. “You said he was civilized, Tally. What civilized man tethers a woman like a goat?”

She held up her free hand, trying to caution him. “You don’t understand all of it, Lee.”

Rob pushed up behind her, lifting his sword blade up. “Ye’d be Christian, then?” he said to Lee. His arm settled around Tally’s waist, his hand claiming her hip.

Lee’s gaze took in Rob’s possessive gesture. He lowered his sword and slid it back into his scabbard. “I would,” he said slowly. “It appears I’ve been the subject of conversation.”

Tally bit her lip. This wasn’t how she had imagined this going. She hadn’t dreamed that Lee would be the one the Agency would send in the first place. What had Brenden been thinking?

“Ye have, indeed,” Rob said. Tally heard him push his own sword back home. “I told Tally ye’d be the one to come for her.”

“Did you?” Lee studied Rob thoughtfully. “Would it offend you if Tally and I spoke our own language for a moment or two? There are words we must use that don’t exist in Scots.”

“Speak what ye must,” Rob replied. “But I warn ye, I know English well enough to understand what ye say.”

Lee smiled. “I rather doubt it.” He pointed to the rope on Tally’s wrist. “The rope isn’t necessary any more—not while her manservant is back at the camp. I am here to negotiate her ransom. Would you consider removing it?”

Tally glanced at Rob over her shoulder. He was frowning, suspicious.

“Please, Rob,” she whispered. “I will not run away. Not now.”

He sighed. “If I haven’t earned your trust by now, then I don’t deserve it,” he murmured back. He pulled his dirk from his belt and sliced through the knot. The rope tumbled to the ground and he untied the end around his own wrist and let it drop with a grimace of distaste.

Tally turned to Lee and caught a fleeting glimpse of an expression, one of sharp relief. It disappeared even as she looked at him and his face returned to the urbane, polite expression she was used to.

But his relief had been real. It was enough for her to take a quick step toward him and throw her arms around his neck and hold on tightly. Tears, which were always close to the surface at the moment, pricked her eyes and wet the breast of Lee’s robe.

Lee’s arms wrapped around her, the thick cloak enfolding her in warmth. Human warmth. Lee’s scent enveloped. For the first time, she felt body heat from him and male aroma.

“He’s right, Tally,” Lee murmured in modern English. “I’m here to take you home. We’ll figure this out.”

“You can’t solve this one,” she replied. She made herself let go and stepped back.

She looked for Rob. He had been watching her in Lee’s arms, his expression stony. Tally moved back toward Rob until her shoulder brushed up against his chest.

Lee’s eyes widened as he watched her do it. The symbolism was not lost on him.

“Rob,” Tally said. “You have been waiting for the truth. Now you shall have it.”

“Only if ye’re sure, Tally,” Rob breathed. “I’ll take ye on any terms ye care to name.”

Lee let out a breath. “Oh hell, Tally…” He had heard Rob.

Tally took a deep breath. “Lee, this is Robert David Bruce McKenzie, cousin to Robert the Bruce. My captor and the man I love.”

She heard Rob’s breath hiss inwards and he turned her to face him. “Truly?”

“Truly, Rob. But there is more and you must listen hard now, for time is very important.”

He was searching her face, searching for assurance.

“Do you believe that I love you, Rob?” she asked softly.

His expression softened. “Yes.”

“Then you must trust me and just accept what happens next.” She turned back to Lee. “This man, Rob, is Christian Lee Beauregard Jackson Hamilton and my…what you would call a clansman. A man I cannot let down.”

Lee pushed his hand through his hair. “You can’t be proposing to bring him back with us,” he said quickly in modern English.

“Can you imagine the time storm that would cause? I know I can’t, Lee. I’ve laid awake nights trying to figure this out.” Natália glanced over her shoulder. “The bend in the path there. Walk there and then jump back to here. It is the only demonstration I can think of that will help Rob understand.”

Lee considered this. “All right,” he agreed and stepped toward them. “If you will excuse me?” he asked. Rob moved aside. Lee strode up to the bend Tally had indicated and turned to face them.

“Ready?” he asked Rob.

“For what?”

And suddenly, he was not there.

“Where did he go?” Rob breathed.

“I’m right behind you,” Lee said. Rob spun to face the other way. Lee stood on the same spot he had been upon when he first stepped out from behind the tree.

Rob was breathing fast. He licked his lips and swallowed. But he did not protest. “Who are ye?” he said softly.

“I am like Lee,” Natália told Rob.

“There are no English like ye that I know of.”

“We’re not English. Nor of any country that exists in this year, Rob.”

“This…
year
?” He was still breathing hard, holding down his disbelief and panic. He swallowed and looked at Lee. “What year would ye be from, then?”

Lee rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I think you have already guessed the answer, Robert MacKenzie. Tally would not fall in love with a stupid man.”

“The future,” he said, his voice hoarse. He looked at her. “Christ wept, Tally,” he breathed.

“We are from a time that lies over a thousand years into your future,” she finished.

Rob’s breathing grew heavier and for a moment, Tally was alarmed. But then it slowed, until finally, he nodded, looking at them both. “All the things about ye I thought to be lies…they make sense once this is known about ye. This is the thing ye said I could not fight, isn’t it?”

“Not quite,” Tally said gently. “But it is related to this.”

“Natália must come home, Robert,” Lee added. “She cannot stay here.”

“Why not?” Rob demanded fiercely. “If ye can come and go as ye please, why can she not?”

“It’s complicated,” Tally rushed to reply. “Far more complicated than I’ve time to tell you now. But Lee,” Tally turned to him. “I need more time here.”

Lee shook his head. “You know the dangers,” he warned, in English. “You’ve been here five weeks already. You were fresh and well rested, so you could go months yet before stasis poisoning begins, but everyone’s tolerance is different. You really want to risk it for the sake of a romance that can have no happy ending, Tally?”

“There’s a complication. You and Ryan, Nayara, Brenden, all of you must give me more time here.”

“How much time?” Lee demanded, angry now.

“I don’t know, exactly.”

Lee opened his mouth to speak and Tally could see the truth hit him, as his jaw sagged and his eyes widened.

“Yes,” Tally confirmed softly. “I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Seven

The small city-sized satellite that housed the Chronologic Conservation Agency was now several thousand kilometres from Halfway Station, which clung to the end of the beanstalk.

The agency was gearing up for the main shift of the “day.” As Ryan was still working through from the previous shift, he didn’t notice the transition. He did notice when the “bad” he was grappling with became abruptly worse. Nayara, as CEO, usually kept the place ticking over like a well-tooled pocket-watch, but word had spread about Natália’s overdue return and tension was rising.

Tension caused accidents. So Ryan moved through the various departments, speaking with staff and supervisors, letting them vent, speak of their worries and get back to work. It always troubled them when a traveller went astray. A lost traveller was a reminder to everyone of their unique, precarious position in life. Only by continuing to risk themselves back in the past could they hold on to what they had fought for and won here in the present.

Nayara was already in Security when the big double doors slid aside to let Ryan in. She didn’t look away from the big electronic wallboard. Neither did anyone else and Ryan felt his gut tighten with tension.

Brenden Christos stood next to Nayara, his long legs spread, his arms crossed over the massive chest, looking up at the board with the same intensity. Brenden was the oldest surviving vampire Ryan had ever met—older even than Nayara. He had emerged from ancient Greece, was born a Spartan and made a vampire shortly after the valley of Thermopylae had been fought and won. His long memory and his Spartan upbringing made him the perfect security master.

Anything that could make Brenden fail to take notice of someone walking into Security could only be bad.

“Tell me,” Ryan said, stepping up beside them.

“Ezra hasn’t returned,” Nayara said.

Another one.

“Where is he?”

“Late Georgian England,” Brenden said in his gravelly voice. “His companion wanted to see Marie Antoinette.”

“Another one?”

“It’s one of the most popular tours for male clients,” Nayara said. “We’re trying to figure out who to send to check things out.”

Ryan looked up at the board. It spread from one side of the long room to the other. On the right hand side were a list of all their active Travellers. Trailing out to the left was a different colour line for each name. Along the length of the board the lines were crossed by dividing lines, like the fret lines on a guitar. Each line was the beginning and end of eras of history.

At various points along the length of each traveller’s lines were large dots. These showed the places in time where each traveller could reliably jump back to, where time markers had been placed or that the traveller knew intimately.

Ryan scanned the late Georgian period and saw the bright red dot for Ezra. It was blinking slowly. “Why England?” he said. “If the client wanted to see the French empire—”

“Marie Antoinette,” Brenden corrected dryly. “They add the king in there as an afterthought, to look decent. But it’s really the woman whose beauty brought a country to heel that they want to see—preferably when she’s having one of those milk and honey baths.”

“We don’t have anyone from France,” Nayara said.

“Charbonneau may be able to fix that, yes?” Ryan murmured. “He survived the French Revolution and still kept his head…he must have very vivid memories of that period.”