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Culloden Moor
Siobhan walked back to the camp with Rory, his arm tight around her waist—keeping her close to his side. Micah’s band had secured the tarps to the trees beside the bothy; their belongings were now strewn underneath the makeshift tents. A campfire burned a healthy glow against the bothy’s sandstone wall.
“There’s jerky and I’ll prepare bannocks.” Micah rustled in a saddlebag and brought out a cast-iron pan.
A woodpile sat next to the bothy and Xian rolled some logs over for seating around the campfire. Micah handed out jerky and soon hot bannocks followed. After they’d eaten, Micah’s men bid them all goodnight and went to their bedrolls while Xian remained sitting on a log by the fire with Micah.
“You’ve eaten tonight.” Rory moved his log-stool nearer to Siobhan and put his arm around her, the firelight glinting in his eyes. “That’s good. Got your appetite back.”
“Micah’s bannocks are first class.” She lifted her mug of tea in salute. “You should’ve been a chef, Micah.”
“Thank you, Mrs Campbell. It means the world to me you like my cooking.” A genuine smile lit Micah’s face as he sat on a log opposite them.
“Please, call me Siobhan.”
“Don’t make it easier for him to suck up to you, Siobhan,” Rory said, his lips next to her cheek. “He’s trying everything he can to get into my good-books, ye ken.”
“Isn’t he already?”
Rory’s mouth drew in at one side.
“Well?” Micah asked.
“He’s after ma wee sister.” Rory ignored Micah. “You know that?”
“Yes, I know that, Rory.” Siobhan raised her eyebrows. She had been to the future where Micah and Cèilidh were married.
“I think I’ll go sleep. All this food needs digesting,” she said to Rory, then mouthed talk and flicked her gaze across to Micah and back as she made herself comfortable in her bedroll under the tarp. The conversation from the fire-circle drifted over.
“Tell me about your mother,” Micah was sitting opposite Rory, his face side-on to Siobhan. “There’s lots of stories about her, but what was she really like?”
“Really?” From the other side of the fire, Rory’s face was half-lit by the flames now dying down to embers. “You really want tae know?”
“Man, your parents were legends. Of course, I wanna know.”
Rory gazed into the fire, his eyes softening. “My mother loved me. Loved all of us. I wasn’t as close to her as I would have liked, but my parents were busy with the running of the Community. She was smart, brave and sensible with lots of ideas and skills. Like, instead of being consumed by the difficulties, she thought of the good things to work on. Not just the practical things but the beautiful things, such as art and music. She made me, and ma brothers and sisters, learn an instrument, ken? Some of us were better than others. I’d rather ride ma horse than play a tin whistle.” He snorted a laugh.
“You miss her, man,” Micah said.
Rory lifted his head, eyes glistening in the firelight.
“I get it. I miss my mum too.” Micah looked at the ground. “She was the only one who really loved me, no matter what. She loved me because I was hers. Not because I was good at cooking, or horse riding. Or sneaking things from the stores.” Micah chuckled, then his expression turned sober. “Unconditional love, that’s what they call it, and she did it.”
“What about your father, the King of Fife?”
Micah stared at the flames for some moments, the lines around his eyes grew deeper.
“He likes me, but...unconditional love...” He shook his head, his dreads falling over his shoulders. “He knows nothin’ about. I’d do anything to make him love me like that.” Micah spoke the last words so softly Siobhan could barely hear them.
Siobhan’s chest tightened a little and her eyes prickled as she thought about how her father had loved her always. She snuggled deeper into her bedroll.
“Your dad, man, he was awesome.” Micah broke the brief silence. “We came across him once, when we were out poachin’, a long time ago.”
Rory grasped his mug, and Xian remained quietly listening to Rory and Micah’s conversation.
“We thought we were goners when he caught us,” Micah continued. “He was a giant. I thought I was tall, but...” Micah mimicked someone taller standing in front of himself. “He looked mean, but he took pity on us. We must’ve seemed hungry, ken? Well, we were.”
Coals popped and sparks flew into the night sky.
“You must miss him too.” Micah looked over at Rory for a second, then his gaze returned to the flames. “I would, if I had a man like him for a father.”
Rory’s shoulders lowered a fraction. “Aye, I do. He wasn’t just my father. He was my best friend.” Rory’s voice caught a little. “He taught me how to ride. Gave me Boy. Taught me to survive in the wild. How to handle a firearm. How to hunt. How to...kill. How to defend mysel’ and no’ kill a man. How to tell right from wrong. Whether a person is lying or no’.” Rory’s hands tensed around his mug, his knuckles white. “He showed me what loving a woman can mean and how much a man must love her, to claim he truly does.” He flicked a glance to Siobhan then. Tears welled in his lower lids, threatening to spill.
Siobhan’s throat constricted at Rory’s comments, then she let out a quiet, slow sigh at Rory opening up at last.
“Aye, he was a great man.” Micah’s dreads fell across his face.
Rory took a deep breath in and fiddled with the mug, having now loosened his grip on it.
“There’s going to be a famine,” he said into the flames.
Siobhan grasped the covers of her bedroll. Why had he chosen that topic to change the course of the conversation?
Xian leaned forward, until now hidden from Siobhan’s view by Rory’s form, revealing his expression reflecting her own thoughts.
Surely Rory wouldn’t disclose the existence of the Time Machine to Micah?
“What?” Micah’s face scrunched as he lifted his head. He pulled his hair behind him and, slipping a leather thong off his wrist, he tied his dreadlocks back. “How’d ye ken that, like?”
“I have visions.” Rory looked over to Micah. “They’ve come true.”
“Wow! Man, like really?”
“Aye.”
“That’s awesome. What of?”
“I knew when the Government convoy was coming to our Community.”
“Like, you saw it?” Micah leaned his elbows on his knees, threatening to topple into the campfire.
Rory nodded.
“Wow. Ye ken that odd lot who are led by that old professor, Webster? His woman, Dierdra, would love to ken all this. She reads fortunes.”
“Oh, aye.” Rory frowned.
“She read mine once. Said my woman would belong to an important family.” Micah stared straight at Rory.
Rory scratched his upper lip. “Anyway, we need to prepare for this famine. We need—”
“What causes it?” Micah interrupted.
“A volcanic eruption.” Rory’s eyes glinted and in the firelight his hair blazed ginger.
“What!” Micah turned to Xian. “You’re not actin’ surprised. Ye ken all this?”
Xian nodded.
“We’ve gotta tell my dad—”
“No, we don’t.” Rory held his up hand. “Your father has enough goods stored. He’ll be okay.”
“But he needs to store more. You said it would be a famine.”
“What will you tell him? Rory-the-seer predicts a sky full o’ volcanic ash? Think he’s goin’ tae believe you? You’ll just make me oot tae be a fool.”
“But—”
“Dinnae.” Rory’s tone was firm with a hint of violence, then his shoulders relaxed. “You’ll abide by what I’m askin’ you if you want tae see my sister.”
“You black-mailin’ me to silence?”
“Aye.”
“You afraid you’ll look stupid?”
Rory’s face hardened for a second.
“Man, ye are.” Micah let out a soft laugh. “Okay, your secret’s safe with me. But people need to prepare.”
“And they will.”
“When’s this gonna happen?”
“Not sure of a date. Visions dinnae come with a calendar, aye? I just ken it will be soon and we must plant more, grow more, increase our livestock and store more food and let the other Communities know to increase their yields and store all they can.”
“My men can help. After all, it’s gonna be my family too. Isn’t it?”
The corner of Rory’s mouth curled upwards. “Aye, I suppose.”
“Wha hoo!” Micah’s face beamed true happiness.
Rory glanced over to Siobhan; his expression thoughtful. Her mouth tightened. It seemed he’d made his decision about this man based on her knowledge of the future. Only time would tell if that future was the one now awaiting them.