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“I’ll chap your hide, boys.”
Duncan. It’s Duncan who came to my most assuredly undeserved rescue.
Two sets of hands help me to my feet. I’m shaky on my feet but they steady me.
“Ach, are ya all right?” Alesoun asks.
“Fine,” I say automatically. I touch the back of my head and feel a knot swelling there.
Tears break free, again as emotions—regret, anger, and depression—overwhelm me. I don’t belong here. I have to get home.
“I’m sorry about that,” Duncan says. “I’ll be speaking to the boys’ fathers.”
I shake my head but that makes the pain worse. Alesoun and Duncan hover close, fussing, but I push them both away and try to stand on my own. A wave of dizziness passes over me and my knees buckle. They grab me but I push again, insisting to stand on my own.
“I’m fine,” I say, looking at Duncan. “Aren’t you supposed to be off stealing?”
The acid barb of my tone is biting. Duncan grimaces and his eyes narrow. He frowns as he takes a step back. I feel terrible for having done it, but it’s the right thing to do.
“Aye,” he says, a storm of emotions dancing unspoken across his face. “I’ll be on my way then. Glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks,” I say, affecting a coldness that I don’t feel.
He stares for longer than I’m comfortable, but I meet his stare and wait. At last, he turns and walks away. My knees quiver and I almost fall, but Alesoun hooks her arm beneath mine to support me.
“Bit rough on the lad, weren’t ya?” she asks.
“It’s for the best,” I mutter as we make our way into her house.
This witchcraft thing is getting worse. If the chief decides I’m a witch too, they’ll banish me. Then I’ll be well and truly screwed.
Chapter Sixteen
Today I’m attempting to learn to weave a basket out of reeds. Alesoun and I moved a worktable out of her home to work in the sun. I stop once again to stare off at the horizon. The cold hard knot my guts have tied themselves into still hasn’t let go. The men, including Duncan, have been gone for two days. I haven’t slept more than a few minutes at a time since they left.
Every time I close my eyes, Duncan is there waiting, except he’s badly hurt. Or he’s dead, a zombie wandering through my dreams and taunting me. Asking me why. Why did you reject me? The same question I’m asking myself, even though I know the answer.
“Ach, quit your worrying, lass,” Alesoun says, walking up behind me. “They’ll be along soon enough.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, standing up and stretching.
“That is nae a basket,” Alesoun says, giving my work a critical eye. “It will fall apart the moment ya put anything inside of it.”
I stare at the almost shapeless bundle of heather roots and stalks that I’ve been attempting to weave together as she has tried to teach me. It’s frustrating that she’s right. There is no arguing about it. The basket should be at least mostly round, but my effort is more egg shaped with huge gaps.
I chew my lip and stare at the basket, trying to figure out what I did wrong. Suddenly the basket springs apart. One of the stalks whips painfully across my shin and I yelp as I jump away. Alesoun laughs. A deep, full laugh such as I’ve never heard from her before. Feeling sheepish I frown, my cheeks warming.
“I guess you’re right,” I say. “I’m no good at this.”
“Aye! The look on your face…” Laughter fights for dominance over her words. “Ah, that was worth the time.”
“Glad I can at least entertain you.” I huff, taking my seat and picking up the fallen sticks that are supposed to be the framework of the basket.
Alesoun wipes tears from her eyes, still chuckling. A smile flits across my face. She’s a good woman. Almost as outcast as I am here but with the disadvantage that this is her home. She doesn’t have any hope of escaping back to her own time. Or some mysterious destiny to fulfill. This is the entirety of her life.
Shunned by her peers. Tolerated only for her skills in healing but even so looked on with derision and suspicion. Even now I feel the hateful glares cast at the two of us from the other women in the village. I get it, though. The idea of being banished from the village terrifies me.
The memory of my encounter with the Colquhouns is right there, ready to pounce. What if Duncan hadn’t saved me? What would they have done? And if not them, then how would I get food? Shelter? Survival isn’t easy.
