Page 13 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

C iaran paced up and down in the village elder’s house as he tried to reason things out with the guardsmen.

“Look, she’s been with me for the past week,” he said. “There’s absolutely no way she could have traveled to Dunadd, attempted to hurt the king, and then made it all the way back.”

All of the guardsmen shook their heads stubbornly.

“It’s definitely her, alright,” one said. “And we knew there was some dark magic tied up in the attempt on the king’s life. This is just more of it.”

The attempt on the king’s life. Just the thought of such a thing gave Ciaran shivers up his spine. He and Comgall had been close friends since childhood, growing up together as they had. Ciaran’s father had once been bodyguard to Comgall’s father, and the boys were as close as could be. When Comgall became a great lord in his own right, and then king, it was only natural that Ciaran serve as his bodyguard. Who could he trust more?

In time, though, things had changed. Comgall insisted that Ciaran accept some sort of reward for his years of service. Ciaran had resisted for a long time, but he finally had to accept that he was not as young as he once was, and the king needed only the very best men around him. A new life, as lord of his own island, had not seemed a terrible way to spend his time.

He should never have left. He should have been there .

Who else could be trusted to take a knife for Comgall? From what the guardsmen said, it was pure luck that this woman had missed Comgall’s throat when she stabbed wildly at him during dinner. Attempting to murder a king in his own hall? It was an unthinkable crime.

But it had not been Sadie.

She could have traveled through time , a little voice whispered. You can’t account for her every moment.

Surely she could not have done this. Why would she go to such lengths to construct an alibi when she could simply vanish through time and escape capture forever? It made no sense.

No, he believed that Sadie really was trapped here. But how, then, could he explain the guardsmen’s firm belief that she was the woman they sought?

“I need to speak to her,” he said.

The men exchanged nervous looks, and Ciaran could almost read their thoughts. They did not want him to see the prisoner, not when he was so clearly sympathetic towards her. But they feared questioning such a powerful lord - especially one who was still something of a legend amongst the king’s guard. No one would dare question his loyalty to Comgall.

“Very well, my lord,” one said at last. “You know which room she is in. We will wait here.”

Ciaran nodded politely, making a concerted effort to maintain his temper. These men were only doing their job, as best they could. He would just have to get to the bottom of this mess.

Sadie looked up as he entered the small room. She sat curled in one corner of a dusty storeroom, surrounded by crates and barrels. The guardsmen had judged this the most secure place to hold a prisoner, but Ciaran wished they could have found somewhere a little more pleasant.

“Sadie, you have to tell me what’s going on,” he said, keeping his voice gentle.

She met his eyes defiantly.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” she insisted. “It’s all a mistake. Those men clearly think I’m someone else.”

Ciaran raised an eyebrow.

“So it’s just coincidence that they all remember that woman looking exactly like you?”

Sadie shrugged.

“It’s the hair. People don’t tend to see past it.”

She certainly did have distinctive hair, thick and red, but Ciaran sensed there was still something missing in her words - something she was not telling him.

“You’re still hiding something,” he said. “Tell me, Sadie. If I don’t know the truth, I can’t help you. Do you want to be dragged back to Dunadd to face a trial? Are you so sure they’ll find you innocent?”

Sadie had looked away while he was speaking, but now her eyes flickered back to his. For the first time, he saw a hint of fear amidst all the defiance, and it tugged at some half-hidden corner of his heart.

“Just tell me the truth,” he said as gently as he could manage.

“I don’t know anything for certain,” she said hesitantly. “I’ve been trying to figure it all out. But I think… I think I know the woman who tried to kill the king.”

Ciaran crouched down beside her, his nerves jumping into life. Could he solve this? Could he keep Comgall safe?

“Tell me,” he said urgently.

“I started to realize something was wrong even before I came through the stone circle,” Sadie said. “There was a man there and he… mistook me for someone else. Then again, on the boat. There was a sailor who warned me not to go to Dunadd.”

“That’s why you jumped,” Ciaran said, understanding dawning.

But Sadie shook her head vigorously.

“I keep telling you, I didn’t jump,” she said. “That man pushed me. He said I was too much of a risk. But it’s not me who tried to kill the king, I swear! I was on your island the whole time. You know that.”

“I believe you,” Ciaran said, trying to push down his frustration and speak calmly. “But if it wasn’t you, then who was it? Who almost killed my king?”

Sadie took a deep breath and looked away from him again, but not before he saw some dark, powerful fear in her eyes. She sat still on the floor, her entire body motionless, as if she was afraid even to breathe.

“Tell me,” Ciaran said again. He could barely breathe himself, trapped in the suspense of her answer. He reached forwards and grabbed Sadie’s hands so abruptly that she looked up at him in surprise. She took one more deep breath and he saw her fear turn to resolve.

“I think the woman was Norah,” she said. “My twin sister.”