Page 73 of Long Live the King
She looked at me quizzically. “Ye were crowned king...?”
I dinna answer because I wanted tae see what she would remember.
She thought for a moment, then said, “Aye... I suppose ye were... I had almost forgotten it, Magnus, twas well done, when was it...? I canna put m’finger on the full memory of it... We went that far intae the past?”
“Aye, yet ye daena remember it because the time shifts restored the timeline tae rights. Tis just as well ye daena remember, because it never happened, except I hae the scars on m’body and the wrinkles on m’forehead from the work of it.”
“...I remember now, ye were crowned king, was it in 1290?”
I said, “Somethin’ like it.”
“Well, this clears up a great many mysteries.” She picked up an ancient book and clutched it in her lap. “The discrepancy is near then, Magnus, 1296. I hae had it flagged, and then I hae had someone looking at it?—”
“Someone ye trust?”
“Aye, he is a historian, he winna speak on the issue.”
“Explain it then.”
She asked the room’s projection tae switch tae a marble sculpture, a man’s head. Twas well done and in verra good condition. He was wearin’ a crown.
She said, “There was an interregnum period beginning in 1296 in which there wasna a king, at least this is how we believe it went.”
I nodded. “Aye, then Raibeart am Brusach came tae the throne.”
“Aye, Robert the Bruce, correct, but ye see, Magnus, tis not what the record shows now.Thisman is listed as a king, and dost ye notice the newness of the statue? This is what triggered the flag — the sculpture daena seem as auld as it ought.”
I asked, “What is his name?”
She snapped her fingers and an old record came up, it said: Asgall I.
“Ye ever heard of Asgall the First, Magnus?”
“Nae, and he sounds like an arse.”
Lochinvar and Quentin nodded in agreement. Lochinvar said, “Like the bitter gall of an arse.”
He and Quentin bumped fists.
She continued, “Thomas said?—”
“Who is Thomas?”
“Thomas Innes, the historian, do try tae keep up, Magnus. I asked him tae look intae the period. In the beginning he found little about this king, a mention here and there, twas as if he had been barely studied, but when I visited recently Thomas had found a great many more records. There is a shifting tae it, I am certain. As I am farther along on the timeline, I will count the mentions of Asgall in history books, then I will go visit Thomas and he will tell me of twenty more mentions. I will return here and there will be fifty records. Therein is proof of time travel.”
I said, “It does seem so.”
“Thomas went tae Stirling tae further his research at the library, and found this ancient psalter.” She showed me the book, embossed with an ornate M on the cover. “We hae determined the date tae be the late thirteenth century. Twas a mystery whose book twas but now I think I ken.”
I raised my brow. “Ye think tis mine?”
“Aye, tis the book of a king. Dost ye recognize it?”
“Nae, and there are many different reasons for an M tae be on the cover of a book, why must ye assume tis mine?”
“I dinna until ye told me ye remember being a king, now it explains everything. Do ye recognize this photo we found stuck between the pages of the book?”
Lady Mairead pulled a photograph from the book, and also called out for the image tae be projected on the wall. “Ye might recognize the room?”
