Copyrighted By Marti Phillips 1998

Scotland: Chronicled in the Year of our Lord 1316 :

I, Janna Maclachlan, last saw Graywick Cairn when I was twelve years old. The golden stone fortress rising from the loch was the only home I had known, where my father, my brothers and I dwelled after my mother died. Our eight hundred year old castel in the West Highlands was crumbling around us little by little. Having neither the time nor the funds to oversee a restoration, my father Alasdair, the Earl of Graywick, became increasingly concerned as the English moved northward, besieging and conquering royal ancestral strongholds as they came.

After William Wallace and other patriots defending Scotland were executed by King Edward's orders, the Earl joined with several of his countrymen to oppose the English oppression. He went away with the growing army of Robert the Bruce, and he sent me, his daughter, to the convent at Argyll to complete my schooling. The servants packed everything, moving the Earl's entire household in horse drawn wains to his Highland fortress at Lochaber. Now, years have passed, Scotland has won a great victory at Bannock Burn. Robert Bruce has been crowned king by our countrymen, and my father is still away at war.

The one time I have been sadder than the day I found the crumbling church beyond Graywick village, was on the morning of my eighteenth birthday. That was when a kindly sister and a priest in a white robe came to my chamber and gently broke the news that Colin, my dear betrothed, had died only days before in the battle at Stirling Castel. My father took leave from battling the English long enough to see me escorted to his Highland stronghold. We gave the family monies to aid King Robert. The war then took my father and my brothers away again.

Despite my learning from books and the nun's teachings, I have not been able to halt my growing hatred of the English oppressors who invade with their great armies, killing with a vengeance. Not only King Edward II, who is as cruel as his predecessor, but all men from that land that unfortunately borders my beloved Scotland. Now, I find my youngest brother, Ian, was killed in a skirmish at Selkirk Forest when his schiltron was overrun by the enemy. The hatred has become rooted firmly inside me. I vow that never will I do a kindness for any Englishman.

A ray of light entered my life even as it turned its darkest, in the form of my appointed guardian, my father's foster brother, Emrys. There is something rather mystical and mysterious about this kindly old scholar, albeit I paid no mind to the occasional gossip of the village women who said he might dabble in the black arts, or that he was a foundling of the sith, a faerie child, and raised by nobility in Wales.

Emrys arranged for me to further my education in a rather unconventional place; the home of Tamitha the Seeress, an old friend of his. I must reluctantly give up my tomboyish ways to learn the etiquette of a lady, and the fascinating healing arts. And now, On the eve of my twentieth birthday, I have learned of the secret legacy that is mine alone since my mother died. A torch passed down from a long line of ancestors.

I harbor fears, doubts it was meant for me, such an uncanny thing as harnessing the majic arts! But Emrys swears that I, Janna of Graywick, am the chosen one to posses her special powers.


With a small sigh, Janna closed her parchment book of days and placed it alongside her quill on the oaken table. She stood at the vine draped casement of the manor house and looked past the city walls to the mist topped terrain of the distant Highlands. For what reason she did not know, she thought wistfully of the meadows beside the little stone church in the woods where she and Ian played as children. She felt lightheaded. Suddenly she was standing in that meadow, and the church was right in front of her!

The wood was thicker and the terrain rockier. Everything had changed! I am not in Argyll, but Graywick! How can this be? She still wore the bold red and gray plaid tartan of the MacLachlans over her blue wool dress. Somehow, she had passed into the place she was daydreaming about! It was beside that very arbor at the ruined wall that she received her first kiss from Colin when he declared his love for her. Even as she sadly looked at the weed-overgrown enclosure where her brothers used to ride stick horses and wield wooden swords pretending they were great knights, she knew Emrys was right, after all. She would carry on the legacy; she had inherited the powers of her majical ancestors.

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Janna drew a steadying breath and went through the doorway of the old church.



CHAPTER 1

It would have been a beautiful setting, one she had dreamed of, but now there was no time to pause and take it in. The final rays of sunlight slanted across the mountains of the western Highlands, and waned into shadows on the craggy slope where Janna ran for her very life.

Her breath came in ragged gasps and her legs and feet were cut by sharp stones and briars, but she managed to keep close on the heels of her protector. The narrow trail twisted sharply and she stumbled, but Emrys again reached out a strong, sinewy hand to pull her to safety and his emphatic words urged her on.

"Stay with me, child, for they are close behind! Our escape is not far!"

Looking back for an instant Janna saw that the dark clad pursuers, their heavy boots slamming through the stones and rubble, were indeed closing in. She willed herself to continue to climb despite her fatigue, but then, she saw that Emrys was leading her to a wide, shadowy entrance that could only be the mouth of a cavern.

"Emrys!" she cried, "I canna enter there! I am afraid of closed in places..." Her voice wavered and she felt ashamed that she, a child of Scotland had shown such weakness, especially at a dire time as this.

"I know, Jannie. Close your eyes, hold fast to my cloak. Just follow me, do not fear, and we will elude our pursuers. Come..."

The assuring tone of her trusted guardian gave her the incentive to make it to the entrance, but staring into the gaping black hole before them, she hesitated. An arrow aimed for her head cast sparks from the rock formation and fell inches from her side, and the shouts of the three men chasing them grew louder.

Janna grasped the folds of his long cloak and went with Emrys blindly downward, following the meandering turns of the cold, dank cavern that seemed to lead deep into the heart of the mountain. Her chest ached with a tightness, the familiar feeling of panic threatened to undo her, but she forced her footsteps so not to slow Emrys's progress. He must surely have sight in the dark as well as his other powers, she thought. She knew little of those powers or how he obtained them, he never spoke of it. Nor would he reveal the identity of their pursuers, but she knew he was in possession of something those men back there wanted. Wanted badly enough to kill their prey to get it, and it was all her fault. For visiting the old church, for making the novice's mistake of dabbling in majic before she learned enough. She had gotten into some sticky predicaments before during her childhood, but none as scary as this.

It seemed much later when she saw a point of light ahead. The sound of her own voice was somehow comforting as she asked in concern, "Are you sure they can't harm Adelaide? If by some miracle we get away, they may find her and..."

Janna missed her elder cousin's gentle, loving guidance as she tried to make the transition from a rebellious tomboy teen to a refined young lady, and Emrys's wife had the patience of a saint! But, then a woman having an immortal wizard for a husband had learned patience long ago, Janna thought with amusement. Adelaide had lately asked if they might arrange a match for her with a fine young nobleman, but Janna refused. The pain of her loss was receding, but her heart was closely guarded, and she cared not if she ever loved again.

"My wife has always wanted to visit Anjou, thus, I sent her there in secret," Emrys replied.

Janna could visualize the kind smile upon his face, assured that his beloved lady would be safe, apart from the danger that now threatened them. She clung to his cloak as they scurried upward toward the growing orb of daylight.

She stared in surprise, puzzled by the dazzling brightness that framed the cave's other entrance. It had been sunset when they entered the other side of the mountain.

"Where are we?" she gasped, emerging and shielding her eyes from a blinding whiteness. She looked down and shrieked, realizing that they had emerged on a narrow ledge, and one more step would carry her over a steep cliff into a bright, mist shrouded void of oblivion. "What is this place?"

Even as she turned to Emrys, she heard noises; muffled curses and the thud of boots echoing from the cave. Their pursuers still followed and there was nowhere left to go!

Panic again caught at her, but beside her Emrys said calmly, "Hold fast to my hand, and do not let go at any cost." She obeyed, not fully understanding, as he raised his long dark cloak and brought it around to engulf both of them. "Do not be afraid, child," he commanded solemnly, "Your journey to terra firmae will be a safe one!"

Janna stared as he began a low, melodious chant of some sort, and his voice rose to a higher and higher pitch. So did a chilly wind that escalated to a furious gale, whipping her hair loose from the ribbon that bound it and tearing at her skirt and tartan. Her eyes stung with the force of the air and the rising dust. "Come," her protector said, and stepped forward. She wanted to shrink back to the safety of the rock wall, but was suddenly powerless to move. She could only gasp when Emrys pulled her over the cliff with him, into the whirling bright mist.

She felt no falling sensation, but a fluid motion, as if her body changed and flowed in ripples into the silver fog, and then feeling solid earth beneath her, she finally dared open her eyes. They stood amid a half-circle of massive dark stones, and looking farther, she saw thick, tall woods and distant stone-fenced dwellings with sheep and cattle on the green hillsides. As her senses sharpened and she found her footing, she noted a river ran close to the grassy knoll and cascaded down a rocky cliff face in a sparkling shower. The wind was gentle now, and warm as Scotland in late summer, but...

Janna looked at Emrys, who seemed smugly satisfied as he checked his clothing for damage and dusted himself off. There were no craggy highland mountains, no pursuers, and she cupped her hands at the stream, drinking until the cold water refreshed her. She brushed off her skirt and muttered a question as she tucked her hair back into her hood. "Emrys...are we still in Scotland?"

He replied matter-of-factly, "We are at her borderland with Britannia."

Janna's expression went icy, and then fearful. "I hate England and its king and its armies! Can we not go back and hide somewhere safe in the Highlands? Please Emery..."

"Now, now, child," he soothed, "These people here are not those English, not yet. This king ruled long before Edward, and I daresay with much more wisdom. We are in Britain, however, the year we have journeyed into is another matter..."

"Are you saying..." Janna's eyes went wide and her heart leapt with a giddiness that was more thrill than fear, "That you used your powers to...that we are time travelers?"

"I believe so," he said.

"Why did you never reveal these powers to me before?"

Emrys smoothed his cropped silvery hair with brown, bony hands. "You see, my child, when your father was detained in service to King Robert, and you became our ward, Adelaide and I both agreed it best that you remain sheltered from any controversy such secrets might bring, unwanted, into your life. Even more so after your loss of Colin MacPherson, we felt it should wait. But when you turned twenty this spring, we saw that the powers of the ancestors have been passed to you. I promised your father as he sailed away with the Bruce's invasion of Ireland, that I would protect and guide you as you fulfilled the legacy of your mother. I promised my dear Adelaide I would see that your learning to use the magic wisely would be without distress to you. As for what year we have come to, I do not quite know yet."

Janna interrupted eagerly, "So, you did that incantation and hurled us into another time to escape those evil men! May I learn that power? Quickly, please! And others you have?"

A furrow appeared between his arching, dark brows, and for a moment her patient guardian looked all of his sixty years. Then the gentle spark in his eyes returned and he murmured, "The magic of summoning the forces cannot be learned all at once. As I have explained to you of my own boyhood, the training will take many years. Hopefully," he grinned sardonically, "we can proceed without too many misbobbles like the one in which you ended up at old Graywick."

Janna blushed as they began to walk toward a cluster of walled cottages, recalling the uncanny event herself. After a month in the village, she had come to be comfortable and appreciate her tutor, an elegant, refined lady called Tamitha. Fascinated by the ancient literature and also continuing her history studies, Janna had unknowingly overstepped her own progress. Her idle wish to recapture a carefree childhood sent her unwittingly to the small church near her girlhood home.

She remembered a sense of wonder at finding the cross on the graying stone structure that was now half buried in a tangle of woods, and smelling of mold and rotting timbers. She had stepped into the dim interior with a sense of great peace. It was apparent by the thick cobwebs that no one had been here in a long time, but in the shaft of light through a high window, she found she had entered an almost concealed enclosure, and stared in surprise. Dust covered articles rested on small shelves hewn into the rock wall. Some appeared to be tarnished metal sconces and altar cups, but a different shape caught her attention immediately. She lifted up the small, rounded box and saw that it was tarnished silver, decorated with elaborate carvings of crossed swords and a dragon. The corner of the box was attached to a heavy golden chain. Just then she heard two familiar voices calling "Jannie! Janna!"

The room whirled away, all vision faded and she stood shakily in front of Tamitha and Emrys in the seeress's home. They had brought her back. "What have you there, Jannie?" Emrys exclaimed, and she told him how she had found the box and came away with it clutched it in her hand, unintentionally.

"Aren't you going to try and open it?" she inquired. Emrys and Tamitha both tried, but age had sealed it with corrosion. Tamitha brought out a sturdy knife, and Emrys was able to undo the catch. He took the box away to the window in the back, and bade Tamitha join him there. Janna did not know what they found inside the box, which she heard them refer to as "the reliquary," but they seemed very concerned and she thought she heard words like, "grail" and "charmed," and ".must be restored to him"

Emrys then walked Janna to the door of her room, explaining that he must go on a journey soon, that she should continue her studies diligently, and all would be well.

But, her teacher, Tamitha, could not resist gossiping to friends about Emrys and the reliquary he had found, and one man in particular seemed interested in the fact it might contain a certain object of power, although Tamitha only whispered this to a few and Janna did not hear much of it. Then, a cloaked man and two more began to stalk her and Emrys. Her guardian seemed to know immediately they would be in danger.

He quickly hid the reliquary on his person, packed some provisions, and he and Janna rode into the Highlands. The scoundrel thieves, which was how he referred to them, had followed for days. When their tenacious pursuers hunted them down, she and Emrys had fled on foot into the mountains after exhausting their horses.

Now, safe for the moment in a different time and place, they entered a walled cluster of huts which Emrys said was the monastery below Loch Fyrth. Why, he has been here before, Janna realized and the thought that at least they were not both strangers in a time long past, made her feel better about everything. Somehow, so did the large, carved cross mounted on the towering gate of the abbey. A young monk in a dun robe and a neat tonsure left the garden patch he tended to greet them. He answered Emrys's inquiries in a murmured, accent laden voice, stating that the Abbott was away schooling royal youngsters in the citadel, but that another cleric was presiding until his return. "Come, I shall present you to our esteemed Abbott Padruig."

Janna heard Emrys groan and thought he grumbled something like, ";Esteemed, my rear end!" They followed the monk into a larger stone structure among the small houses. A wide man in a shiny black robe stood at the altar, ceremoniously lighting several candles one by one. The golden cross he wore on his chest glittered in the increasing light. At last he looked up, his quick black eyes squinting in his round jowled face as he appraised his visitors. "Ah, 'tis you, returned once again," he said dryly to Emrys, and Janna perceived he was not altogether joyous about it.

"Likewise," Emrys replied in a dry tone. "Janna, may I present the...er...illustrious Abbott Padruig. This is Janna, she is my ward and my wife's cousin."

The Abbott snorted, "'Tis plain to see by her loveliness, the lass has no blood ties to you, fortunately for her." In a more even tone he queried, "What ever brought you back where you are not wanted after so long a time, you old fake?"

Janna gasped at the audacity of the rotund holy man, but her guardian only laughed.

"Missed me, did you now, Paddy?" Emrys smirked with a bold twinkle in his eye. "At least we have always been honest about our dislike for each other, not false, as some can be." He did a half turn with a swish of his cloak and looked straight into Abbott's face. "Have you seen of late the one who call himself Lord Guilbert?"

"Why would I have any cause to see that toad?" The Abbott cleared his throat and quickly changed it to, "That most ungodly man? He gives nothing to our church, but with his greed amasses his fortune by taking advantage of the weak and unfortunate. Why, I have heard that he dwells in a massive hidden cairn and hides his true wealth from the King's tax collector! And the High King himself, only in his third year of ruling, is ever as greedy for wealth and power! He sits in his tall tower at Carlisle and commands us to pay tribute with our grain, vegetables and eggs from the hens, and should we receive any fine weapons as a token, he expects..." The Abbott was red-faced and irate by now.

Emrys raised an impatient hand, halting the holy man's grumblings, "Naught has changed here, I see. As I have said before, do not forget whom protects you and your brothers by maintaining an army strong enough to enforce peace in the land. I speak of Arthur, of course. But, that Guilbert is another matter entirely. Good day, Paddy." He spun and guided Janna out the church entrance, leaving the Abbott to sputter of his grievances against the warlord king, the sinful soldiers and the nobles who kept their coins for themselves.

Janna launched a barrage of questions, but Emrys quieted her with simply, "We go to my home, deep in yonder wood."

After they had walked a long way through the trees, Janna saw ahead what resembled a crofter's earthen cottage, with thatch and shutters and livestock pens behind it. "While I was away, my house has been left to my cousin for keeping. Griselda is a kindly enough woman, and from her ye will learn herbcraft. You may think of her rather like to a grandmother."

Janna thought otherwise when, a moment after introductions, the portly old woman in prim gray began to shake her finger at Emrys and rail at him in Gaelic. Some of it Janna understood, some not, but she caught this much: "A body needs coins and goods to barter if she's to run a proper household all these years!" Janna glanced around. The house seemed well appointed, cozy and clean. A fire crackled under the hearth pots and a yellow cat lay curled on a reed mat.

Emrys protested mildly, "Come now, woman, I left you nigh a king's ransom when I last departed...let's see, when was it? Arthur the Warlord had made our villages safe with his army."

Griselda threw up both plump hands and snorted, "For what it mattered when the greedy lairds come to extort the silver from me, calling it just and due taxes! 'Tis nary an honest soul 'round here got food, livestock nor grain left to speak of, thank to yon uppity nobles who call themselves our protectors!"

"Lord Guilbert and his cousins again?" Emrys frowned and asked the question wearily, as if he already knew, and received a stream of heated Gaelic name calling as an affirmation.

"Who is this Lord Guilbert I keep hearing you speak of," Janna asked curiously when they sat down to the bowls of hot porridge Griselda ladled out.

Emrys sent the woman to fetch him some ale from the hiding place in the cellar before he replied, "I fear he is our worst enemy. Possibly he is leader of the men who seek the Crystal...er, I mean the men who want the box you found."

He looked away, and Janna exclaimed, "You said the crystal! Is that what they really want, what's inside the box? What is it and why do they want it so badly?"

They heard the thud of the cellar door, and he spoke softly, "It takes more time for the telling than I have now, child, but fear not, I will try to make things aright again. I promised your father I would see to your safekeeping, and I shall honor that promise."

After they had eaten, Emrys went outside to tend to chores, and Griselda fussed over washing Janna's clothing, pouring her bath, and then taking down her thick braids and combing through the lustrous gold-auburn locks. Janna even thought there was kindness in her piercing gaze. "Such hair! 'Tis the color of flame," declared the old woman, "Much like yere beautiful sweet maither, ye are."

Janna caught her breath, "Griselda! You knew my mother? Please, tell me about her. Emrys has told me she was lovely and gentle and had majical gifts, but, I want to know everything."

The old woman hesitated a moment, then brightened. "Many years before yere birth, I suppose, I served in the fine household of yere ancestor, Lord Kear of Caer Granwyn. Yere mother was born the prettiest baby we ever laid eyes on. What joy she brought that household as she grew into a fine young lass. She had the gift, or the curse as some see it, of the old magic. Now, yere grandmother encouraged the girl to go on wi' her trainin' under a high priestess of Eire. When she was nearin' the time to come home, yere grandfather swore he would have no 'faerie-witch' a'dwellin in his keep, and he arranged her marriage to this Lord Guilbert of Camlaird."

Janna stared. "Guilbert! The evil lord ye spoke of before?"

Griselda nodded and went on, "Sad to say, dear Enida soon became terrible unhappy in that union, and she begged Emrys's aid in escaping that cruel laird. Guilbert had by then taken over her family's mighty fortress and garrisoned an army of warriors."

Griselda took a long sip from her cup. Janna remained silent, regarding her with rapt attention. The old woman squinted at the fire and spoke again.

"Yere lovely mother, Enida, had powers and knowledge which she used to heal and to help those in need, but, mind ye, she was not immortal, as some in the line of ancestry."

"Like Emrys." Janna said, "I know about that. Please, go on."

The old woman seemed relieved she was not revealing anything Janna should not be told. "Well, child, of course Emrys contrived to free Enida from Guilbert, and together, they used the powers to send her into a time cataclysm. A loving, kind man awaited her there, and together they escaped into his country. I am told they had a lovely daughter, in time. You, child. Saddened greatly, I was, when Emrys told me some years ago that Enida had died of a riding accident in the Highlands."

Griselda paused the cup at her chin, looking sorrowful.

"Yes. She died when I was nine years old," Janna said quietly. She looked up as Emrys walked in, a bulging sack in each hand.

"What's that?"

He smiled. "I have not forgotten where grow the best berry bushes, nor the old Lord Kear's magnificent apple orchard."

"Ach!" Griselda cried, "poaching of the evil Lord Guilbert's fruit trees! He would have our heads if he learned of it!" She took the apples, smiled appreciatively and went outside to peel them.

Emrys lay the berries on the table and stated grimly, "There is something Guilbert wants more than our heads."

Janna popped several fresh blackberries into her mouth and watched as he took a leather pouch belt from beneath his cloak. He hung both on a wall peg. "You speak of what is inside the reliquary I found. What is this thing?" She asked around a mouthful of delicious berries.

Emrys sighed heavily, looked around to make sure they were alone, and said, "'Tis but a necklace. A mere golden chain and small orb of crystal holding a stone within."

"Emrys!" Janna could not conceal her exasperated look, "It must be more than some bauble! Is it a valuable jewel? Is that why those men want it?"

Again, he looked to make sure only she heard. "I believe it to be the famed Crystal of Carbonek. A magic amulet that guides its owner to that mysterious castel."

Janna drew a deep breath and said incredulously, "The...The Graal Castel?" Her eyes widened in awe. "My father loved to tell those tales of the legends. I remember before the war, on winter nights by the fire..." Her gaze went wistful and dreamy for a moment, then she asked thoughtfully, "How did you come to know of this...Crystal?"

"When I last knew of such, 'twas in the very time we visit now and it belonged to Arthur's high knight, Llancalot. I shall return it, though Caer Malot is a long ride from here."

"You mean...Lancelot?" From the tales, Janna was used to the French enunciation rather than the Welsh. She recalled Emrys had spoken of his own boyhood in Wales. How long ago that was, she wasn't sure, but he once mentioned knowing Druids and Celtic healers.

"What is this of Llancalot, the High King's main sword?"; queried Griselda from the doorway, not bothering to mask her nosy look. Instead of waiting for the answer that was not coming, the woman bustled her ample frame to the cooking pots on the fire and dumped in the peeled apples.

She twirled her ladle in her hand and said with a big smile, "He chanced to ride by the village when I was to market, several days back." Janna gaped as she prattled on. "A sight to see, that man was, all brawn and tall in silver mail and red sur coat, mounted on a white palfrey with hide smooth as glass, and his weapons all a' flashing. That knight led his men to halt barbarian invaders threatening the coastal villages. 'Tis small wonder the Queen favors him, as they say. He is indeed a bold one, and handsome as the Dark Prince of Brittany. Some say that the Prince is his brother, only Llancalot was sent far off to foster with an Island priestess because he was only King Ban's bastard son."
"Griselda!" Emrys burst out sternly, pointing, "Mind ye the pot boiling over, woman, and cease filling this innocent child's ears with peasant's gossip!"

Janna did not know whether to hide her smile or to ponder what she had heard, for it was quite intriguing to her that they were not far from Camelot. Perhaps...

Griselda fell silent as she stirred honey into the stewing apples, then she muttered, "I was by the roadside when the high knight rode by the day before yesterday, too, at the head of escort 'round the queen's carriage. But, I told that fancy dressed Lord or whatever he was, when he asked me, that I ne'er seen anybody."

"Who?" Emrys's chin popped up from his palm, "What did he ask you?"

"I heered one o' his men-at-arms call him...Prince Mel-wys...I believe, 'twas his name. He showed me a pretty silver coin and asked twice if I did see Llancalot and his men with the Queen's traveling party. Then, I saw that the devil Lord Guilbert and his kinsmen accompanied this Prince's Melwys's men. Then, I did not want their coin, an' I set stubborn against speakin' anything they wished to hear. They rode on, to inquire at the next farm, I suppose. Seemed greatly concerned of it, they did." She shrugged and stirred the simmering apples. "Who can tell? Them fancy cloaked, haughty nobles! My hopes is they stay far across the wood, in the castel that evil Guilbert stole from..."

She looked at Janna as if she were about to say something more, but stopped at Emrys's gesture and turned to her work.

Janna crept stealthily down the ladder from her warm straw pallet in the loft. She noted the drawn curtains on opposite ends of the cottage, each where Emrys and Griselda slept. She was careful not to make a sound. The first winks of reddish light pierced the cracks around the wooden shutters and the door, and in the dim glow of her single candle, she found Emrys's cloak and travel pack. She searched carefully, but found nothing. The crystal must be so valuable that Emrys kept it on his person or in a secret cache. She could scarcely believe the contents of the box was magic, but he would not be wrong.

Anyway, she would give up looking for now. Recalling last night's promise to Griselda that she would search the nearby wood for certain herb plants, she threw her cloak over the white linen shift, lifted the door hasp and slipped into a misty summer dawn.