Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

to sail again, nor did he want to stay in our family home in Skara. Lord Olaf gave him permission to leave and come here to settle."
    "Okay, so, Siguardsvik, and where exactly is that?" Alex questioned, if he could work out where he was, when he got away he could find his way home, or at least to the nearest town.
    "Fortriu, about five miles from the coastal settlement at Obar Dheathain."
    "I'm not in Scotland?" Alex swallowed the sick feeling that rose from his stomach.
    "Scotland?" Harald frowned as he repeated the word slowly, "What's Scotland?"
    "Home," Alex whispered, his voice shaking slightly.
    "Steady, you've gone white as snow." With a look of concern Harald reached out with his empty hand and placed it gently on Alex's shoulder. The touch was light, sympathetic as he asked, "How old are you Alex?"
    "Duh!" Alex rolled his eyes as he gestured with his hand to the tattoo across his chest. "How old do you think, do the maths."
    Harald looked blankly at the black markings, then taking his hand from Alex's shoulder he gently traced around them. Alex couldn't help but notice that his fingers were warm and unexpectedly soft.
    "What does it mean?" Harald looked directly into Alex's eyes as he asked but his fingers continued to move slowly across his chest. Involuntarily, Alex gasped as the edge of Harald's thumb unexpectedly grazed across his nipple, the bud pebbling hard. Harald's eyes darkened, his lips parting slightly in response. Neither man seemed able to look away, but Harald's fingers continued to brush over the muscles of Alex's chest.
    "I'm twenty four," Alex said eventually, the words breaking the connection between the two men. Colour rose in Harald's face as he rapidly stepped backwards.
    "So this," he frowned as he indicated the tattoo again.
    "Is the year of my birth, 1987, and its 2012 now, so, that makes me 24, well until November." Alex explained with exaggerated patience.
    "You Picts must use a different calendar to us. I worship the proper gods, but earlier this year my brother raided one of those Christian religious houses to the South of here. They brought back one of the monks and he said that it was, according to their records, the year of their Lord 894."
    "894?" Alex blanched, his mouth going dry as he repeated the words. Shaking his head in disbelief he continued, "you're telling me that its 894? That I've what, travelled back in time? What is this? My own version of Life on Mars?"
    Involuntarily Alex began to shake, his vision clouding.
    "Steady," Harald cautioned taking Alex's arm and leading him to the bed. Pushing him down so he was seated, Harald pushed Alex's head forwards till he was leant over looking at his feet. "Breathe deeply," he requested, rubbing his hand across Alex's shoulders until Alex started to struggle to sit up again.
    "Better?" he asked as he let Alex up.
    "Yes, thanks." Alex nodded, he still felt shaky but the immediate panic attack had passed. "Sorry, but I can't get my head round it, you're telling me that somehow I've gone back over a thousand years, into the past, well in my past anyway."
    "I don't understand what you're asking," Harald admitted as he settled next to Alex on the bed, his arm still around Alex's shoulders.
    "If this is 894, and I've come from 2012, then how did I get here?"
    "I couldn't say. All I know is that I found you, unconscious, out on the hills last night. I couldn't kill you, or command any of my men to, so I bought you home. Maybe I did the wrong thing, but at least here you're still alive. You'd have been some wolf's breakfast if I'd have left you last night. If my brother has his own way though, you won't be alive for long, and it's up to me to protect you. The collar helps; it shows everyone on the farmstead that you're owned."
    "Owned!" Alex jerked to his feet and glared at Harald. "You don't own me."
    "Protected then, is that better? The collar shows that you are in my protection." Harald rose and stepped towards Alex again his voice becoming softer. "Trust me, please. Even with the collar it's going to be hard enough to keep my brother and his men from doing all they can to provoke you, to goad you into fighting, into giving them an excuse to harm you, to kill you. My father can do only so much to control him. With no protection you are a dead man walking."
    In silence, Alex traced the toe of his boot in the dust on the floor, occasionally shaking his head. Eventually he looked up at Harald.
    "I don't actually have a choice do I?