Shifting around me, taking hold of my hand and walking me, he gives me his naughty smile, “Funny ye should say that. In fact that's sortae how it all started...”
Chapter 16
Ellindt:
Sitting together on the wrong side of the field to stay away from the conflict of the beastly girls, we watch the caber toss from the sidelines.
Roddie did his best to chat up Selene before some huge oaf called Ramsay challenged him. Getting all macho over who was going to take this year's title. Selene's wandered off to the shade farther up, watching us all and giving me a tiny bit of privacy.
“So what was that dance all about then?” I ask, almost completely distracted by the muscles on the guy teetering across the field.
“Dance?” he frowns at me, shielding his eyes from the glare of the midmorning sun.
“Yeah, those girls doing their hopping thing.”
Laughing softly, his gentle smile melts my heart. “That's a sword dance. I dinnae know if it's true or no', but that was the dance warriors would dae around their shields before battle.”
I knew it. I
knew
it had to do with frightening the opposition. Between the smell and the bipolar skipping, I'd be terrified.
Giving me a wider smile he whispers in my ear, leaning up close and smothering me in his fantastic smell, “They say it was performed naked.”
Shuddering at the thought of a field of men doing that in the nude, I follow the trajectory of the pole into the air where it pikes into the ground and flops back toward the competitor. The goons out on the field all have arms bigger than the width of my head. They're mammoth men.
I stop chatting, watching Roddie step forward, bending at the knees and taking hold of the ridiculously long wooden pole. In a swift jerk he hooks his hands together underneath it, balancing it precariously against his shoulder. Getting his orientation right, pushing forward with his thick neck and bulging shoulders, he manages to keep the pole upright without it tipping.
He gives the field ahead of him a steely glare, determination etched into the youthful planes of his face before doing a rapid charge, then hoisting up with his hands with a savage grunt.
We watch the pole sail through the air, banging hollowly into the ground and flipping forward in a full rotation. He's the first one I've seen to do that in this competition so far.
I can tell this is a superior move by the screeching wails reaching across the field from Morag and Heather, and the air punches of victory by Alan and Malcolm.
Alan must feel like a sample sized man around these kilted cuties.
“How do you know who wins?” I ask Doug.
“It's a hundred and eighty pounds and twenty feet long, and the object is tae throw it high, far, and tae keep it as straight as possible, which is pretty hard tae dae because it's tapered. The winning throw is the one which is closest to straight. Imagine it's a clock, he's aiming the thin end fer twelve o'clock.”
I do not see the point of this sport at all. It's a show off game and I can now see why the idea of it appeals to Roddie. But by the look on his face, I can see he thinks he won. He flashes a victorious smile to Selene and I wonder if she said she'd go out with him if he won. That would be great motivation for any guy.
Haha! I bet she did too. I'd bet my five days on that I'm so sure my hunch is right.
Wolf whistles reach us from Heather and her cronies and I glare their way.
Doug hides his eyes, ducking his head, “Fer chrissake.”
“What?” I ask, looking around to see what happened.
“Roddie.”
I look at Rod, and he's just strutting like a peacock with its feathers out. “What about him?”
“He shouldnae be regimental fer this,” groans Doug, looking really embarrassed.
Arching an eyebrow, I'm lost. “Say what?”
“He's nae wearing anything under his kilt, which is the right way tae wear a kilt, but it's polite fer the competitors tae cover up because their kilts go flying daeing this.”
“He's naked?”
“Aye, we call commando, regimental.”
“That is so gross!” I complain, the disgusting thought of Roddie walking next to me in nothing more than a knee length kilt completely hanging free under there is puke-worthy.
And he's smiling at my aunt knowing full well he's commando. Sick!
After watching lots of very big boys throw telephone poles, sheafs tossed over high bars, men chucking big stones around, and hammers being launched, I'm relieved to be on my feet and milling between tents of loud music, stalls of food, and endless throngs of people out to have a good time, all wearing kilts.
I've also had my first sample of neeps, tatties, and haggis, under much duress and coaxing from Rod and Doug. It's a national pride apparently.
The good weather disappeared hours ago and we watched Rod receive the 1
place trophy for three events in gloomy gray. Now the wind is scudding a thick purple blanket over us with impressive speed, promising rain.
It's way past twilight but the party is just getting started. Hauled into the next tent I'm immediately caught in a melee of tipsy dancers having an impromptu kaylee.
Fiddlers are smoking their strings with frantic playing, the fascinating hand held drum is being pounded, and sweaty people are dancing to and fro singling along merrily.
It's hot in here and I venture a little closer to the open doorway.
“Come on, dinnae be scair't. Ye'll enjoy it,” enthuses Doug, but I shake my head.
“Let me stand and watch for a bit. I'll be fine, go ahead.”
Turning to Selene he offers her his arm, which she accepts, and I watch my aunt and boyfriend mash into the chaos, dancing round and round in the infinity symbol of an eight, both of them knowing the steps. It's a same leg skip, twice, then swap, in these endless loops between people, and oddly every so often someone knows exactly when to suddenly join hands and circle before going right back to infinity same leg skips.
Leaning against the support pole I watch him with his hair tied back in his nape, the snug fitting knitted shirt he has on with just the two buttons at the neck making him look dashing. Watching him dance with Selene, I think it's rather sweet that he'd be willing to entertain my aunt. That's commitment for you, right there.
Some idiot jams my shoulder from behind, shunting me forward, forcing me to stagger into the fracas, and my arm is hooked and I'm violently swung around. “Come on lass, ye can dae this. Step we gaily on we gae, heel fer heel and toe fer toe...” bellows at me while he sings along with more gusto than a drunk at Battle of the Bands.
Inertia is wrestling with me along with gravity, and even my superpowers can't save me from being flung around by my abductor while he sings the cheerful folk song at me.
The old burly guy continues yelling at me, “Cheeks as bright as rowans are, brighter far than any star...!”
It's a good enough tune that makes you want to clap your hands or tap your foot, but this is just atrocious.
“Arm and arm and row fer row, all fer Mairi's wedding,” hollers in my ear, strongly infused with alcohol breath.
Glancing around half panicked, I look for rescue, for escape, having completely lost Doug and Selene.
Wound up like a lasso about to be pitched at a bucking bull, my arm almost dislocates when a man coming the other way snags my elbow with his and hauls me off the drunk lout.
Swung away from the stranger I'm danced into a shadowed alcove. “Ye okay?” says Roddie, leaning down and raising his voice to be heard.
Finally at a standstill, I'm breathless from shock, “Yes. Thanks for that, he's a strong fellow and he caught me by surprise.”
“Aye, ye looked a wee bit like ye'd been snared by the dragon and couldnae get free.”
He's smiling at me and it's the first real smile he's given me. I can tell he finds my misfortune funny.
“Well thanks for the rescue,” I grumble, ready to circle the outskirts to escape back to the door.
“Nae so fast,” he says, imprisoning my arm and holding so tight it would bruise if I was human.
“What?”
“Where's yer auntie?”
“Dancing,” I snap, trying to tai chi my arm out of his grip.
“Why don't ye like me? Ye think yer tae good fer us plain folk, don't ye?”
“Hey, don't be laying your issues at my door. You're the ass who flicked his cigarette butt at me on first sight, and slammed me up behind a house to sneer vitriol and superstition at me. What would any normal person make of that? You're a little bit special that way, aren't you?” I argue back.
“Ellindt, Ah saw a man-beast in yer forest and he was out fer Doug's blood. If yer not one of them, then tell me why the hell the nine of diamonds was stuck to his car while that devil hammered the hood?”
I don't know if it's the heat, or the noise, or his cavalier statement, but the crowded tent starts to spiral, my skin chasing ice down my spine and cutting off my air supply.
Bulbous muscles close in on me and before I know it I've been placed on a chair and he's leaning over me. “When was the last time you had fluids?”
I shake my head. The entire room is a gyrating blur of smudging color.
“Ah'll be right back,” he says, giving my knee a pat, but I'm panicked, reaching out and snatching his hand, yanking him back.
“What do you mean? What does the nine of diamonds mean? I don't understand.”
“It's a death threat. Whoever he was, he wants tae kill Doug. Ah find it a wee bit tae convenient that we've never seen strange things in those woods even though we've been playing in them our whole lives... until ye came along. And Doug's done nothin' wrong. All he did was fall fer the likes of ye and now he has that thing wantin' tae rip his heid aff.”
“A death threat?” Oh my god. “What did the beast look like?”
“Are ye serious? Ye honestly dinnae ken?”
“Tell me!” I scream hysterically at him.
“He was huge, way bigger than me, well over seven feet tall, and his eyes were red. Hot glowin' red.”
Zarak. Zarak threatened Doug's life. I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all.
Bombs explode outside followed by rapid machine gun fire and people go charging for escape, cheering and whooping.
My heart spins in my chest and fear tightens a noose around my neck, stealing my ability to breathe.
Would Zarak really blow up these people just because Doug wants to date me? How reckless is that imbecile?
Pandemonium has broken out and people are scattering in the fray.
“The fireworks ha'e started. Let me get ye a drink and we'll go watch 'em. We'll find Doug and Selene out there.”
I watch him vanish into the madness, my world bottoming out on me. I'm so upset and short of breath, I'm close to tears.
In a daze, I'm guided out of my seat into the deep darkness at the back of the tent, the canvas flicks up and strength snags me under and out, a cold bottle pressed into my hand.
“Ellindt!” shouts at me.
Blinking, snapping out of it, I'm face to face with a worried and terrified looking Roddie.
“Holy shite lass, yer eyes were glowin'. Ah knew ye wasnae legit!” An accusing finger waggles in front of my nose, and I know this time there's no going back.
Chapter 17
Ellindt:
“Rubbish!” Grasping for excuses I wave my arm like a hysterical groupie at a rock concert, “There are fireworks dude! My eyes are reflecting the bright lights exploding all around us!”
He looks at me with doubt, and I can see him questioning his own sanity at this point.
“There's my champion,” sings Selene.
Thank god!
She slips her arm through his, smiling up at him, “You owe me a dance.”
His eyes glaze, immediately shutting down his argument, and he gives her undivided attention. It's at times like this I'm grateful for the influence a mature vampress has over humans.
Her Angelsigh perfume washes over us, and she turns to me with a wink, “I'll see you later, back at home.”
We're free! To do whatever we want! Yay!
Grinning gratitude to her, I nod, escaping behind them to where Doug is storming through the melee, trying to reach me. It reminds me of the night of the party.
I have a deep desire to break the law, and I run to meet him halfway.
“This place is insanity on legs right now,” he grumbles when he reaches me, instinctively wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders and guiding me to the sidelines.
“Doug...” I wheedle softly, while we stride away from the madness.
“Aye?”
“I want to see your flag.”
“Ellindt that's hours away from here. It'll take five hours of driving tae get tae Dunvegan from here. It's not worth it, and they'll be closed.”
“Who said anything about driving?” I smirk suggestively.
“But we cannae get inside now regardless.”
“Douglas, stop finding reasons to say no and find a reason to say yes, you'd love to show your bonnie lass the castle that belongs to your ancestors.”
The scowl melts off his face and he stares at me with smiling incredulity. “Well when ye put it like that, I cannae say no can I?”
“No, you can't.”
Glancing around, he pulls me with him behind another tent, quickly facing me and whispering with urgency, “Quick, before someone sees us.”
Oh heck, I've never done this before. “Think really really hard about the place you want to go to. Hold it unwavering in your thoughts as if you are there right now,” I instruct, praying that transporting us using his imagery will work.
Focusing my power, I hold tight to him, forcing my will to relocate us.
Cold algae scented water bristles across our skin in cloying moisture, and I look around. We're standing on a wide bridge lined with old fashioned low stone walls, just up ahead is a circle in front of a hollowed entrance.
Lights shine dimly from the towers either side of the entrance shadow, behind which is a real castle with the stepped crown on the roof walls. I'm horribly disappointed it's not made of ancient weathered stone covered in ivy and slippery with prehistoric moss.