Page 100 of Edge of Yesterday

That night, Lady Elizabeth sat beside Patrick at the wedding celebration in the great hall. She was beautiful, with the glossiest raven hair I have ever seen and emerald green eyes. Everyone believed she was a chaste maiden who did not want to part with her family, for her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but I am convinced she knew of her father’s plans, and did not want to be part of the atrocity.

Everyone made merry, for this union would bind two mighty clans and bring peace to the region. James brought wine, ale and cider that he passed out liberally amongst our people. When our men had drunk themselves into near stupor, James insisted his daughter and Patrick consummate their marriage.

After the bedding ceremony, when the door closed on the bride and groom, James Ross announced he would fetch more wine. That was the only time that day in which I felt trepidation, for I know it is a sin to overindulge in spirits. James, coward that he was, left, and his men fell upon us. Man, woman and child, the Rosses cared not who they slew. I fell upon a man who raised his sword to one of the young serving lads and rammed a splintered piece of wood through the back of his neck. That is the only time I have killed and, though I would not trade that boy’s life for the fiend who would have killed him, I still have nightmares, and pray that God has forgiven me.

I carried no sword and was felled by a blow to my head. I am not certain whether or not it was a vision, but I have a memory of Valdar Ross, eyes blazing as if he were the devil himself. He held his sword in one hand and that beautiful dagger in the other as if he would kill us one and all. After that, I became aware only of the crushing weight of a warrior who had fallen on me. I thought I would suffocate and prayed that God would forgive me my sin of murder. God, in His infinite wisdom, spared me and I awoke days later here at Reay Abbey.

I will never forget the screams. Our men fought valiantly, but most did not have swords and were cut down. The women’s screams still haunt me, and my dreams are too often run red with blood. I have often wished that I had died that day. Perhaps living is God’s punishment for my taking a life. But how could I have stood by and relied upon prayer alone? My prayer now is that when I leave this world God will show mercy and let me forget.

“Are ye all right, my lady?”

Cailean’s voice jarred her.

She looked up at him. “What?”

He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “You’re crying.”

Julianna looked at the parchment. “As far back as I remember, I have heard the stories of how James Ross attacked Heatheredge unprovoked.” She touched the book. “I see now that I have been shielded from the worst of the details.”

He closed the book “I’m sorry. I should have known better than to read this with you beside me.”

She shook her head. “Nae, I am no’ a child. I should know the truth. I should have spoken about it with Father Phillip when he was alive.”

“He’s dead?”

Julianna nodded. “Nine years ago. Father Andrew took his place.” Shock shown on Cailean’s face. “What is amiss?” she asked.

He picked up the book and rose. “It just seems too strange.”

“I think ye dinnae believe in strangeness?”

She glimpsed his smile an instant before he turned and slid the book into its shelf. Julianna caught sight of a smaller shelf two rows above the book. What looked like a black velvet bag was tucked back in a corner.

“That is odd…” She stood and went to the shelves, then rose on tiptoes and stretched her arm upward, but her fingers only brushed the edge of the shelf.

Cailean stepped up close behind her and reached along the shelf. His chest brushed her back and butterflies skittered across the inside of her stomach. He pulled the bag down and set it on the table.

“What is it?” he asked.

Julianna grasped the drawstring opening. “I dinnae know.” She drew the ties apart and pulled the fabric down, revealing a hollow bone thrust through a fist-sized round of wood. She gasped. It couldn’t be. It was the same cursing bone she’d seen Crowe use that night in the woods.

Yet… Why was it here, in the scriptorium—on holy ground?

“A cursing bone,” Cailean said.

Julianna’s eyes widened. “Ye know what it is?”

He laughed that rich sincere laugh. “I’ve seen them, but never had the opportunity to use one.” The amusement in his voice reached the corners of his eyes. He reached for the bone.

“Nae.” Julianna shoved his hand aside.

Cailean looked at her. A troubled frown creased his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

She looked at the cursing bone. “Ye cannae touch it.”

“You don’t truly believe it can hurt anyone? It’s just a bone.”

“It has blood on it.”