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

S adie barely slept. How could she? The bed she had was warm and comfortable enough, if a little itchy, and her gracious hostess had even left her a plate of oatcakes and a pitcher of what tasted like beer. With her thirst quenched and her stomach full, Sadie could usually drift off to sleep anywhere.

She’d never tried sleeping in the ancient past, though, and it affected her more than she could have imagined. So, when the first light of dawn crept in between the window shutters of her bedroom, Sadie was still awake. She groaned and covered her eyes against the light, but it was too late. There was no chance that she’d get any sleep now. She would just have to wake up and face the day, whatever it might bring.

Her bedroom door opened onto a large room, lined with what looked like weaving looms. This place was far smaller than the great hall they had visited the night before, although it was similar in shape. Perhaps this was a women’s version of the hall, or something like that.

Sadie half-expected to see guards outside her door, but the place was surprisingly empty. And light, as well. As Sadie turned to look around, she saw that one wall was completely open to the elements, allowing the bright morning sunshine to spill in. Presumably, such good light was required for weaving.

Something about that open wall seemed familiar from the night before, although it had been difficult to see anything in the darkness. Sadie headed that way, hoping it would lead her in the right direction. Indeed, it brought her to a narrow street between small, shed-like buildings. At the far end was the imposing silhouette of the hall, impossible to miss. With a sigh of relief, Sadie set off in that direction.

There were a few more people around here, milling around in the open space outside the hall. A few faces reappeared more than once, and Sadie frowned to herself. Were these men watching her? Following her? Perhaps she was just being paranoid. Ciaran and his sister seemed welcoming enough.

That same sister came bustling up to Sadie as soon as she entered the hall.

“Good morning, Sadie,” she said, loudly enough that other heads turned to stare at them. “I wasn’t expecting to see you up so early. I do hope you slept well.”

“It’s a lovely guest room,” Sadie said, smiling her most charming smile. “I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”

“Any guest of my brother’s is always welcome,” Niamh said. “And we rarely receive visitors from so far away.”

Far away? What had Ciaran told her? Sadie didn’t like to ask. Instead, she just smiled politely.

“But where are my manners?” Niamh went on. “You must be desperately hungry. Here, sit beside me at the table.”

Sadie found herself half-pushed into a large wooden chair at what seemed to be the top table. Niamh sat down beside her and waved a hand at a nearby woman. Before Sadie even realized what was happening, bowls and plates of food began to appear on the table in front of them.

“So, my brother said you would be here for a few days,” Niamh said. “Do you have a long journey home?”

“Long enough,” Sadie said, thinking of the ferry, and the drive back to Glasgow. “I would love to set off as soon as possible, but your brother thinks I need to wait.”

Niamh made a gentle tutting sound. “He’s often far too cautious,” he said. “I’m sure you would be fine to leave whenever you want. We still have a few weeks before the winters storms begin.”

Storms? Sadie didn’t like the sound of that. And she also did not know if she could trust this smiling, generous hostess. Something strange was going on.

“It’s lucky that your brother found me, really,” she said.

Bingo. Something flickered behind Niamh’s eyes before she smoothed her expression again.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said easily. “It can get terribly cold at night, now that summer’s behind us.”

These siblings were hiding something. Sadie’s pulse skipped a beat.

“Where is your brother this morning?” she asked. “I was wondering if he might have time to show me around a little. I’m sure he’s very proud of his home.”

Niamh frowned a little, one line marring her smooth forehead.

“Unfortunately he is already occupied this morning,” she said. “Perhaps I could be your guide instead.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” Sadie said hurriedly. Niamh seemed like the kind of person who would not let her attention waver for a second.

“No, I insist,” Niamh said brightly. “Take whatever food you wish, and we’ll set off.”

Suddenly feeling less than hungry, Sadie grabbed a juicy-looking apple and reluctantly followed Niamh from the hall.

She had to admit, receiving a tour of what seemed to be an early medieval fortress was a rather fascinating experience. This was no great hillfort, but the hall and cluster of surrounding buildings stood securely behind a huge wooden palisade. The gates that Sadie remembered from the night before now stood open in the daylight, allowing glimpses of the dirt road and rolling hills beyond. Sadie shivered. If Ciaran hadn’t found her, she might have spent the whole night wandering those hills, alone and afraid. But what had he been doing up there, all alone?

Niamh hadn’t yet stopped talking, keeping up a steady stream of commentary on every single building. Sadie just let it all wash over her. She wasn’t here for a history lesson - she was here on an investigation.

“Could I perhaps spend a moment or two outside the walls?” she asked Niamh. “It’s all rather bustling and overwhelming in here. I seem to have a headache coming on.”

Niamh smiled politely.

“Of course,” she said. “Just for a moment, though. I have errands to return to.”

Sadie smiled just as politely in return. Inside, though, she was bubbling with frustration. How could she even begin to discover the secrets of this place? She had no idea where to start, no clue what might look unusual. The stone circle seemed like a logical place to start, but she could hardly ask to return there - not without revealing to Ciaran that she wanted something more than a quick trip home. She stood in the road and stared up at the hills, wondering what on earth she should do next.

Something rustled in the bushes on the other side of the road. Niamh jumped backwards, noticing the movement at the same time as Sadie did. The guards leaped to stand beside them, spears lowered at the foliage. Everyone waited, holding their breath.

Then a face appeared through the leaves, followed by a body, until a boy, perhaps only ten years old, stood there on the side of the road. Niamh gasped in relief.

“Matthew!” she said. “Goodness, but you gave us a fright. Wherever have you been?”

The boy did not answer her. His eyes were fixed on Sadie. With a sudden jolt of recognition, she realized she’d seen his face before. It appeared in photo after photo in her research file - one of the many unsolvable puzzles linked to Norah’s disappearance. He was a few years older now, but Sadie skimmed that file every single day, looking for clues she might have missed.

“I know you,” she said. “You’re Matthew Edmondson.”