Page 19 of Promises to Keep

Next thing I knew, Magnus and Fraoch and Lochinvar were suiting up to go to the year 1929. We put them in dark pants and white shirts. We found one black tuxedo jacket that fit Lochinvar.

Quentin instructed them on the layout of the park and any issues they might come across. He gave them weapons and some camping gear.

Magnus said, “I will see ye on the morrow, mo reul-iuil.” He kissed me goodbye and Quentin escorted them to Central Park to jump.

CHAPTER 12 - MAGNUS

We landed in the twentieth-century without a greetin’ party so I needed tae rise quickly. I was first up, guarding, until Lochinvar and Fraoch arose. Twas two days afore the party

Lochinvar muttered. “M’skin is blazin’ in pain, m’bones are achin’, why does it hurt so badly?”

Fraoch groaned. “The machines are makin’ us miserable so we daena do it every day and complicate the world.”

* * *

We sat with our backs against a boulder, hidden behind a stand of trees, but with a wondrous view of the city. The buildings stretching out before us on a grid. I said, “Tis much smaller than in the twenty-first century.”

Fraoch said, “Aye. It looks wee in comparison.”

Lochinvar said, his eyes sweeping over the city, “This is excitin’.”

Fraoch looked around the woods. “Really, ye think so?”

“Aye, look at the view! There are buildings everywhere, built by men, how did they do it? We can only guess. And we hae food, we just open packages and there it is, how does it get inside the package? Nae one kens. Next, we are going tae battle in a museum, tis verra excitin’ — what is a museum?”

I laughed. “A museum is a large building full of art and antiquities. Dost ye ken what an antiquity is?”

“Nae.”

Fraoch said, “We are an antiquity, something from the olden days.”

I said, “Aye, but usually tis swords or armor, perhaps a pot or a mug from a long time ago. The mug ye used when ye lived at Dunscaith might be sitting in a museum right now, Lochinvar. There might be Moderns filin’ past tae see it, sayin’, ‘Och, look, there is a mug once drunk from by the young Lochinvar—’”

Lochinvar said, “He was a valiant warrior, he never lost a battle.”

I smiled. “Aye, the story might go that way, Lochie, it might. But also, the museum holds art, tis verra important tae my mother, Lady Mairead. She collects it.”

“Art, such as paintings or sculptures?”

“Aye, ye ken, in the history of the world art becomes near priceless. I once met a man by the name of Pablo, och he was an insufferably numptin’ bunghole. He spoke French.” I spit on the ground beside us. “He was beddin’ Lady Mairead and she was payin’ for his food and drink and he was naething but... och, an irritating hassle, but he was a painter, and everyone around him pretended as if he was verra good at it, though I dinna see it. Lady Mairead thinks verra highly of him and she is, I believe, willing tae die tae protect his paintings. We hae our work cut out for us, that they are plannin’ tae seize her surrounded by art. She inna going tae be happy, and she winna go peacefully. We will hae tae be very careful.”

We slept under the tall trees, talking as we fell asleep.

The first day we did some exploring, a great deal of sitting and talking. We discussed the photos, the lay of the land, the orientation of the buildin’, all the possibilities for how the event might transpire.

The next day, preparing tae leave the park for the party, Fraoch asked, “Why do I hae tae guard the back door?”

“Because if ye go inside ye are going tae get yourself kidnapped or killed by the woman who was yer mother. It inna going tae end well for us if that happens.”

He said, “Ye afraid I will turn on ye?”

“Never, but imagine what she might make ye do with a properly trained alligator.”

Fraoch chuckled. “I haena ever spoken tae her, she is unlikely tae ken a properly trained alligator is m’weakness.”

“True, but a wee bit of torture and she’d have it out of ye.”

Fraoch said, “Og Lochie, if she catches ye and tortures ye, daena tell her about the alligators or I will rescue ye tae kill ye.”

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