Dawn Of A Viking Sunrise, page 22
part #2 of Mists Of Time Series
Suddenly, he looked much older than his twenty something years.
"There is no telling when Fisher will be fit to stand trial," he told her. "In the mean time, if you should hear from or see your cousin or his friend, tell them that we have a few questions for them."
She nodded, feeling numb. She would never see either of them again.
"I am going to keep at least one officer on you until we feel there is no threat."
"No!" Rosie said, her voice rising high enough so that several of the officers and the prostitute turned their way. She could not stand the thought of someone shadowing her every step. Especially since she knew that Fisher's men were dead. They had died that terrible night Gordon's uncle stumbled upon them sleeping in the woods and had taken her prisoner. She shuddered, the memory of that dark, dank dungeon suddenly filling her with unspeakable terror.
Alone and frightened she had clung to the hope that the Laird would send word to Davyn. She had prayed incessantly that her husband would race to her rescue. And he had. Her prayers had been answered and she had awakened to see Davyn, sleeping in a chair beside her bed, looking exhausted and unkempt.
Her heart clinched. She loved him so much, and now, because of her, he was dead.
She forced herself to stop remembering. If she didn't, she would hyperventilate and Bud would send her to the hospital.
"It is not necessary to put a guard on me," she told him, forcing a small smile. "I am going to see my parents, in China,"
Simply thinking of them made her heart ache. She hadn't seen them in over two years, and yes, she absolutely did need to be near them for a while. She needed to talk to her mother, to assure her that she is okay, and to tell her what had really happened during that two-month's time.
She would understand. Her mother knew love and loss.
Bud squeezed her hand. "That's a good idea, honey. When do you think that you'll go?"
"As soon as I can get a flight out."
"I'll take you home then," he said, grabbing his keys from the desk.
"I think I'd rather walk," she said. "There is a travel agency a block from here, I'll just head over there first and see about my flight arrangements. Since you need to keep my cell, I also need to see about replacing it."
He nodded. "Okay, but you'll have a shadow until you board the plane."
She smiled and hugged him. "Tell Emma and the boys I said hi."
"Write your parents' number down," But told her. "I'll call you when the trial starts, not that I expect it to be anytime soon. You know you will have to testify, don't you, honey?"
"I know the drill, Bud," she said, scribbling the long distance number on his memo pad.
When the glass doors slid closed behind her and her shadow, she pulled her jacket on and breathed deeply of the crisp ocean air.
It took longer than she thought it would to make her travel arrangements and pick up a new phone. By the time she had finished, she decided to stop by the Starbucks near her apartment to get a coffee and scone.
Her plans were set. She was going to China. She would see her parents. And then she would go to Chang'an. She had to know if Singlee and the rest had made it safely out of China and the only way she could do so was to go there and search through tomes of legends and histories.
Surely there would be some record of the battle that day. And once she had assured herself that they did indeed make it out, she would catch a plane to Scotland. It didn't matter if the castle she had shared for such a short time with Davyn was nothing more than a heap of rubble. She was going home.
Chapter Forty-Eight
"My poor little mija," Rosie's mother crooned, stoking her hair. "It is easy for me to say this, mija, and I know that it will be difficult for you to accept. But it is a blessing that you found two men in your lifetime who were worthy of your love and respect."
Rosie's eyes burned with tears and fatigue. "I don't feel like I am blessed" she sniffed, settling herself in her mother's arms. "I feel heartbroken."
They sat on a comfortable couch, in a room that showed hints of both her mother's heritage and her fathers. The bold colors, comfortable furnishings, and soothing Asian touches complimenting one another as did the man and woman who shared a life together did.
Both Rosie and her mother wore socks, sweats and tee shirts. Even with her eyes red with tears, her mother was still stunning.
"I know the loss hurts your heart, daughter," she said softly. "But if you had never experienced this kind of love, could you truly ever have known how much love your heart could hold? Time heals all wounds, Rosalinda, and someday you will love again"
Hearing her mother call her Rosalinda brought on a fresh wave of tears. Her mother and Davyn were the only ones who had ever called her by her full name. "Oh, mama," she sobbed. "I don't ever want to love again. I can't take the pain that comes with it. The inevitable loss."
"Never say never, daughter," her mother said firmly, framing Rosie's damp cheeks with her soft, elegant hands. "Not every man you love will be lost to you. Things happen, daughter. Time and unforeseen occurrence befall us all. We have to make the most out of the time that we do have with someone. Make every minute count as if it is the last. And be happy."
Didn't her mother understand that love and loss had shattered her? Battered her heart so that she vowed she would never search out love again? She couldn't, it hurt much, much, too bad.
"My daughter, I know that you did so with your Mark, and it sounds as if you also did this with your husband," she continued. "You grasped happiness and you gave happiness, that is what life and love is all about, what makes life worth living. Do not let fear of loss deprive you of this happiness if the opportunity for love should come your way a third time"
Rosie decided that she had the wisest mother in the world. She was her best friend and confidant and her words soothed her bruised soul. And she was eager to share Rosie's experiences. She had laughed when Rosie had told her how she had 'landed' on Davyn, not once, but twice. She had been horrified that the second time he had been in the middle of a deadly sword fight. She had cried when she told her how her husband had lost his life, so senseless, so tragically.
Rosie was still amazed that neither her mother or father had even flickered an eyelash when she told them that she had traveled through time, not once, but several times. Apparently they had had time to adjust and accept the idea since Singlee had met up with Davyn and had called them to fill them in on her whereabouts.
Then came the time for her mother to explain to her, with her father standing quietly at a window overlooking the garden, how things had been between her and Fisher. How she had been taken in by his looks and intellect. But when she had met her father, all thoughts of loving Fisher had gone out of her head and she had known that it was only Xiong to whom she could give her heart, and the rest of her life.
Rosie had cried with her mother during the telling of the tale. Clearly it had been difficult for her to break off her relationship with Fisher and it had not been done lightly.
It was agreed that they would send their security people to San Francisco to keep tabs on Fisher, both while he was in jail and if and when he got out. Money was no object. They could, Xiong said, hire a dozen men to watch him if they chose to.
But the important thing was that they now knew they should be alert. Now they would be ready for any threats to their happiness or wellbeing.
Rosie's father went to stand in front of the fireplace, rubbing the back of his neck, something he always did when he was upset. "I will get in touch with my brother; tell him what has become of his son."
"Do you think that he will believe you?" Rosie asked him.
Xiong shrugged.
"I will make certain that he does," he replied. "I have made arrangements for us to go to Xi'an. As you know," he said. "That is what Chang'an is called today. We will have full access to any records we wish. I will accompany you, daughter, and together we will search out the information which you need in order to find peace in your heart. If it is possible, we will learn whether my nephew and your friends made it out of China alive."
Rosie went to her father and buried herself in his arms. It helped so much that her parents understood, even though she knew that they could never, ever truly know the pain of her loss.
*****
A month later Rosie and her father sat across from one another in their usual places at the large, elaborately carved table surrounded by stacks and stacks of documents. A microfiche machine sat at the far end of the table. Rosie pushed a hand through her hair and tried to ignore the nausea that kept sweeping over her. All this stress was making her sick. She had no appetite and was exhausted all the time. And since about three days ago, the scent of the chemical used to preserve the ancient tomes turned her stomach upside down.
She knew that her parents were becoming more concerned for her each day, and she tried to assure them that she was coping. Their love and support had gone a long way toward getting her through this time and Rosie was glad that she had come home.
"Daughter," her father said. "Look at this."
When she saw the text to which he was pointing, Rosie caught her breath. At last they had found an account of Leif and Davyn's infiltration of the Imperial City. And even though it was a text that had been written eight hundred years after the event, it was amazing proof of something she badly needed to know.
On a dark day of our history, a band of several hundred Norsemen and Scotsmen infiltrated our city walls. They disguised themselves in our clothing, died their hair black and used trickery and illusion to make themselves appear as our own people. With strong- armed stealth, they entered the gates with merchants and traders as if they belonged there.
An imposter of the Crown Prince stole a Norse slave girl and banded together with the foreign raiders to bring death and destruction on our city. Their escape cost over five hundred of the imperial guards their lives as they strove to stop this attack.
The raiding band disappeared into the bamboo forest. No trace of their true origin could be found, nor any of the attackers ever brought to justice. The whereabouts of the real Crown Prince was never discovered, and history can only assume his disappearance -- and likely death -- occurred at the hands of these foreign marauders. The true fate of our Prince remains a mystery to this day."
"They made it!" she exclaimed hugging her father. "They made it away from China."
"I'm happy for this news, daughter. Now I expect that your next stop will be to travel to Scotland, to see if they indeed made it all the way home."
She smiled at him. That was exactly what she had planned, but she had not shared the information with her parents. Her father was incredibly intuitive.
"Use caution, daughter," he said seriously.
She threw him a questioning look, but he was taking the books back to the librarian, and she decided not to press him.
By nightfall she was looking down upon the bright lights of China from a first class seat on an Eva airplane, bound for Scotland.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Rosie stood and stared blindly at the edge of the jagged shell of the ruin that had once been her home, if only for a short time.
Cold, fat raindrops pelted her plastic raincoat and puddle at her booted feet. She did not flinch when a bright bolt of lightning reached its electric fingers across the heavens to be followed by a rumble of thunder like cannon fire.
Feeling suddenly lightheaded, she walked over to a low piece of stonewall and sat down.
She knew that she should go back to the hotel, get out of the rain and rest for a while.
Her flight had taken sixteen plus hours and she was exhausted. She had rented a car from the airport, checked into the hotel her father had arranged for her, dropped off her bag and made her way to the hotel's small café. Over breakfast, she studied a current map of Scotland and calculated the landscapes, knowing that much of it had not changed dramatically in the last thousand years. Then she set her course.
It had taken her five hours to reach Castle Rose Haven.
Now she found herself wondering whether Leif and the boys, those sweet, brave little boys, had made it to this point.
And if they had, had they been able to bring Davyn's body with them to bury ether here, or back to his true home, Kopi SmykkerAchus?
"Oh, Davyn," she said aloud as the wind began to blow. "I miss you so much. I'm so sorry that I brought Fisher into your world, that I allowed him to destroy you. I should have realized that if the boys could stowe away on that third ship, then Fisher could have also."
Pulling her raincoat more securely around her, she adjusted the oversized hood to just over her eyes.
"But I was so caught up in finding Singlee." She sniffed and dabbed her nose with a piece of tissue she found inside her coat pocket. "And I was so happy spending all that traveling time with you, getting to know you, understand you just a little bit more than I had. I'm so sorry that I misjudged you. I should have known that there had to have been a very good reason that you choose to be a slave trader. But how could I have known that you were looking for your sister?"
Her throat clogged with tears and she swallowed them back.
How sad it all was. What a tragedy that Davyn had been reunited with the twin for whom he had sought so long, only to die within hours of being reunited with her. And Leif. How devastated he must be. But at least he had Kat to comfort him, just as Singlee must be comforting Davyn's twin, if, that is, she had accepted him when she learned of their marriage.
Fresh tears mixed with the rain to run down her cheeks.
She knew that he would have taken care of her. He had to love her to have allowed the marriage. Rosie hoped with all her heart that the poor girl had returned that love.
Rosie was alone with her grief now. The emptiness of it weighed down on her. Her parents had helped her survive the first few weeks. Now, however, she must face the future by herself.
She looked around her, remembering the time she had spent in this very courtyard, with its many clansmen working or training while Rosie and the little Lairds-to-be occupied themselves digging holes hoping to discover artifacts dating possibly from the beginning of time.
And now here she was, looking for answers, wondering if Leif had ever made it back to these walls. And wondering what it matters now if they did or not anyway, because that was all part of a past she could not change.
The wave of nausea that was now unpleasantly familiar swept over her and she knew that it was time to go.
Her windshield wipers worked like mad to chase away the rain falling from the sky in sheets and she had to lean forward in her seat and focused entirely on the road. It was almost midnight by the time she reached her room, striped off her soggy clothing and fell onto the bed.
She woke again before she even realized that she had slept. A sliver of sunlight sliced its way through the gap in her curtains and she was amazed that it was already morning. When the phone rang she answered it in a voice thick with sleep.
"Hello my darling daughter," her mother said. "Your father and I have been worried about you."
Rosie laughed and propped herself against the headboard. "But I've have only been gone two days, Momma."
"Two days, two years, it is always too long. Have you found what you are looking for, child?"
"I have been to where the castle was," Rosie told her, the dejection she had felt the night before settling over her. "It is as I thought it would be. A ruin. I am going to the museum today. The pendants will be held by the police for evidence for who knows how long, but I hope to find some other sign that Leif and the rest made it back home okay."
"Rosalinda, I have been thinking," her mother said. "Doesn't the fact that Mark McCarty still lived in our time indicate that the child must have made it to his home?"
Rosie thought about that. It was true. The child had been the last of the McCartys in Davyn's time. If he had not returned home safely, then there would have been no other McCartys born. She would have never met, or loved, Officer Mark McCarty.
She smiled, and for the first time in weeks she felt some of the worry that had been festering inside her slip away.
"Momma," she said. "I had not thought about that. I believe that you're right. There is nothing more for me to do here, Momma. It's time for me to go home to San Francisco and try and resume my life."
Try, she thought. All she could do was try.
*****
The next morning, Rosie awoke to the stunning realization that it had been at least two months since she had had her period.
She put a hand to her flat stomach. She had been nauseous several times in the last few weeks, but she'd chalked it up to time travel. And she'd been extremely tired, but geez, look at what she'd been through. It had never even crossed her mind that she might be...Oh, Dios, Rosie thought, her heart beating double time.
She was never late.
Until now.
She laughed out loud thinking about what Davyn's reaction would be if he learned that all her talk about cycles and a woman's body not dropping eggs at certain times of the month had apparently been incorrect. Rosie remembered how his handsome face had turned bright red as she had explained, in depth, that she could not possibly become pregnant if they made love at that time of the month.
So they had made love, all night long, and on each and every other occasion when they managed to find some privacy. And hey, the whole Rhythm thing had worked, for the most part anyway.
At some point at the end of their time together, the birth control method had failed, and Rosie did not mind at all.
She was going to have her husband's baby. From now on she was going to have a child to love and care for. The baby would be a part of Davyn that would live on, here, in this Time that he had enjoyed so much during his brief visit.
