Whenever-kobo (11 page)

“We will.” His words gave me hope and I shut up and ate.

“It’s brilliant that we’re here, really.” Callum’s head turned as if taking in the medieval splendor. He ran his hand over the rough grey stone wall beside our table. “This place is my home, different, but the same. Hundreds of years earlier and it’s still my home.”

His appreciation for the adventure was beyond me. He must have seen the doubt in my face, because he looked like he was about to elaborate but two women bustled in, carrying steaming jugs of water. They headed to a tub in the corner. One paused before us and gave a small curtsey. “As lady of the house, did you wish to assist with the knight’s bath while we prepare yours?”

“Uh, no. Lord Callum can bathe himself.”

She nodded and went to dump the water.

“Ladies helping grown men bathe. That’s a bit of Irish trivia I read about but didn’t get.”

Callum glanced at the tub with a flush and rose. “I’ll go to my room. I think it’s where we have our home theater.” He stepped away. “Well, goodnight then.”

“Thanks for the dinner date,” I said to his retreating back. “Glad to help you break your American rule.”

He winked at me over his shoulder. “Guess that makes you my secret,” he said, before disappearing through the door. My heart thumped at his teasing. His expression wasn’t one I’d seen before and I wished I’d had a camera to capture it. That guy was seriously gorgeous. Spoiled and off limits. But gorgeous.

The two women continued coming in and out of the room, lugging buckets until the small tub held about six inches of water. These women would appreciate modern plumbing even if they had to share a small bathroom with my two small brothers. I thanked them and when they left, I sank into the shallow, lukewarm water with a feeling of gratitude. I was even thankful for the lack of heat. Had the water been any warmer, I’d have fallen asleep right there. As it was, I grabbed the bar of flower-scented soap and scrubbed from my hair to my toes. The shallow cuts I’d gotten on the trek through the woods were gone. I hoped they stayed gone when I returned. I hoped Callum had experienced the same renewal.

I shook off the thought and got out, drying off with the linen cloths the servants had laid out for me. They’d also left an off-white shift to change into. The sleeveless garment fell to my knees and was thin but soft. A swath of wool died a deep shade of blue lay across the end of the bed. I wrapped myself in it before dragging a comb through my hair. Conditioner would be nice, but the tugs kept me awake.

Once the tangles were gone, I climbed into the bed, which smelled faintly of flowers, even now in the winter. As exhausted as I was, the foreignness of the room didn’t invite rest. I tucked my toes under the blanket and felt the hollow darkness of the room around me.

A tap sounded on the wooden door.

“Come in.”

Callum entered my room. He had cleaned up. He wore trousers and a clean cream-colored linen shirt. Framed by grey stone castle walls, he reminded me even more of one of those tragic beautiful models. His smooth jaw opened a little as he saw me. His gaze went from my wet hair to the fireplace. “You started a fire,” he said.

“The women started it.” The warm flames heated the air, and I sank back against the pillows.

Callum crossed his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge nicely. “I’m just checking on you.”

The golden light of the fire framed him, making him appear unreal, but the room lost its emptiness. A wave of impossible tiredness swept over me. While I’d slept on the plane, it was restless, and the sleepiness overwhelming me now was beyond anything I’d ever felt. I curled on my side, letting the wool swath serve as a blanket. “I’m too tired to set you straight. I have centuries of jetlag.”

“I can go back to my room,” Callum said.

“No,” I whispered.

He sank beside me.

My eyelids lowered.

***

Two ladies stood beside the bed when I awoke. The older one frowned at me, the younger one giggled and wouldn’t meet my gaze. She said, “We’re here to help you dress, milady.”

The older woman was a no-nonsense, bustling kind of person. She said, “You must hurry to break your fast. They’re serving the mid-day meal in the hall.”

I rolled out of bed and opened my mouth wide to yawn, feeling fuzzy-brained. Break my fast. Breakfast. Got it.

They helped me dress. A floor-length purple gown fell over the shift and laced up the front. I rubbed my hand over the wool. We never wore wool in Texas. It was softer than I’d have thought.

The lady led me down the hall and I took in details I’d missed during my late night entry: tapestries, heavy wooden furniture, and a large number of rooms. The dining room was packed with people who had no problem staring at me as I walked toward the empty seat by Callum. I greeted King Mael, who made a kind of general announcement that I was a family friend from far away and a ward under his protection. I waved, taking in the bright colors of everyone’s clothes and the medieval atmosphere. Pretending I was at the renaissance festival helped me handle things with more aplomb than I should have had in these circumstances. Or maybe being chased by assassins and saving royalty added confidence. I didn’t try to analyze it too much.

I examined the gummy cereal-looking substance in the wooden bowl in front of me and then looked at Callum. “What is this?”

“Porridge.”

I knew the word from Goldilocks, but it didn’t really clarify anything for me. I poked at the top with the spoon and imagined quicksand. “And that is?”

Callum made a thinking sound with his tongue and said, “Oatmeal.” He said it like the word was foreign and I guessed they used
porridge
in modern Ireland.

I lowered my voice and asked about the betrayers.

“Locked up.” Callum tapped the stem of my spoon with his own. “Try it.”

“Mmhm.” I made a noncommittal noise. The oatmeal, sweetened with honey, had a dense consistency. Not bad. Not good, but not bad. Mom cooked better.

King Mael leaned forward. “Word has gone throughout Ireland, and my countrymen have begun arriving for the swearing-in festivities. Do you have such things where you’re from?”

“We celebrate with festivals. They make money for the community.”

Mael nodded. “Describe them, if you would.”

“There’s the crawfish festival. And an award goes to best shucker. People vie for the title.”

King Mael stroked his chin, and his eyes brightened. “We’ll have games. We’ll make it an annual event marking my reign. Thirteen contests on the thirteenth.”

I winced.

King Mael said in a considering tone, “We can find the greatest warrior and offer him a position in my household.”

Callum nodded. “That will strengthen your inner circle.”

“And test intellect,” I said. “We have academic contests where I’m from. The smartest man or woman could become a member of your advisory council.”

“Woman?” the King asked with doubt in his voice.

I put both fists on the table and leaned forward to make my point. “Yes, woman. Ireland has elected two women presidents.”

“Elected leaders. What of the royal family?”

I had to start keeping my mouth shut. He may live in a barbaric age, but again, he was smart. “They’re there. It’s complicated. They serve a charitable, improve-the-world function.”

“But taxes fund them?”

I nodded.

King Mael snorted. “But the ruler could be royal?”

“If he or she runs and is elected, yes.”

Callum stayed silent while King Mael seemed fascinated, and again I told myself to shut up. Letting King Mael’s interest feed my ego was going to be detrimental to his helping us leave. “I really don’t know much about Ireland or European history.”

“Where are you from?”

Somehow, it was a shock to realize not only had my country not been founded, but western civilization didn’t even know it existed yet. I was here more than a hundred years before Christopher Columbus would make his voyage. I tried to think of how to put my answer. I knew little of Ireland, but I did know we shared Viking visitors. “I’m from a far-away land visited by the Vikings.”

King Mael said, “I heard these sagas as a boy.”

“I’d love to hear one.”

He smiled at me. “Later.” His teeth were slightly crooked, but surprisingly white for a time without dentistry.

After we ate, Callum took me out to the wall for a view of the arriving guests. Banners waved in the wind, their bright colors more vivid against the emerald green of the rolling landscape.

“I’ve never seen such a shade of green. Where I’m from, the ground is flatter and the grass a different hue.”

A small smile played on his lips. “Have you not? Your eyes are the color of Ireland, you know. The color is one we see every day.”

Heat filled my cheeks at the compliment as I listened to him sell the line in a way that no American guy could.

Callum backed up. The castle framed him, grey and strong against the horizon.

I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Do you like being a prince?”

He looked away. “What’s not to like?”

***

We spent the day wandering around the castle, observing the foreign atmosphere. The constant movement kept me warm and Callum’s stories of how the castle differed from his home kept me entertained. The knights, ladies, and villagers kept a kind of respectful distance, though we often caught their curious looks.

From the high point on the hill we saw people arriving and setting up camps in the surrounding pastures. They came on wagons, carts, horses, donkeys, and on foot. Economics determined their mode of transport. The poor camped beyond the village, which consisted of various sized huts and shops, and the wealthier came up to the castle where they were assigned places with knights, wealthy merchants, and in the castle itself. I wondered if my ancestors had any representatives here; doubtless they’d be on foot, eyeing the sea.

They certainly hadn’t spent the evening the same way as I intended. I’d changed into a heavily embroidered sage-green gown and I was headed down the stairs to dine with a prince and a king.

Callum met me midway. He offered me his arm and I looped mine through his, coming to a stop on the step above him. We stood eye to eye.

He said, “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t tell him how stunning he looked. The dark leather coat he wore over his linen shirt emphasized his broad shoulders. My fingers twitched at the thought of running my palms over his arms, of touching his solid strength. I don’t know how long we stared, but the sound of people moving into the great hall shook me from the moment. I turned to go down the rest of the way.

In the great hall, King Mael took his throne and the crowd became silent. I stepped closer to Callum and we paused, leaning against a side wall.

King Mael waved his arms. “Before the Kingdom, I declare Callum, son of my ancestors, to be my rightful successor until the time that my heir is born.”

Callum tensed and straightened from the wall. He hadn’t seen this coming. I moved even closer. I should have thought about this. I’d read it. Kings could name successors in this time. There were rules and blood-relationship considerations, but it wasn’t uncommon.

Heads turned, searching for Callum and the gathered Irish people stared at him. The supportive half had smiles; the half with ambitions of their own frowned.

“Callum of the house of Cétchathach. Kneel before me and accept your position as my second, Knight of the high realm.”

I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp, and Callum gave a muffled curse. He left my side and made his way through the parted crowd so that he could kneel for the King.

The ceremony continued, and I watched as if in a blur. King Mael shouted out statements and the watching crowd assented. The King cut the side of his hand on the blade, covered the emerald in the hilt with his blood, and re-stated his declaration. “Loyal Callum is my heir, heir to the house of Cétchathach.”

What was with this family and their creepy blood sword rituals? The King wanted to lock us into staying. His actions made my thoughts spin with the need to get out of here.

When the honors ended, Callum rejoined me, only now we had twice the stares on us.

I whispered, “You can’t let him trap you like this.”

Callum shook his head. “The King wants what’s best. He wants us here until he’s crowned in front of all the Kingdom—just a few more days.”

“And this heir business?”

His complicated dark blue eyes flickered. “As I’m royal, I can inherit, but he’ll let me go. He’s only naming me to an honorary position to secure our safety.”

“Our safety? If anything, he just stuck a target on you.”

“We’ll figure this out.”

“Do you agree with him? You want to stay here and be his right hand.”

“I don’t. I understand his ruling and his entitlement. He is king.”

King Mael slapped his armrest. “Supper. Now.”

I took Callum’s hand.

I sat at the elevated high table beside Callum and King Mael. An oddly empty table sat below us, centered before a fan of thirteen tables. At each table sat one of the thirteen betrayers with their families representing the four Irish provinces. The air was faux jovial, like when two best friends were in a fight at the lunch table and everyone had to pretend things were fine. It was all strained looks and awkward tension. The main differences were the fashion and the lack of texting.

Not that the betrayers could make a move if they wanted to. The allegiance dinner guests had been chosen carefully. The betrayers were surrounded by ladies, old relatives, and a single champion from their region. The King’s knights lined the walls.

While Callum had dressed like the other knights, the King wore a dark red tunic with numerous gemstone-laden necklaces. Very medieval gangster.

The servants laid a golden plate before the King, and a silver one before Callum and me. After us, they placed thirteen wooden trenchers on the empty table. Then they served the nobles, setting one place for every two people.