A Thousand Year Love Story

By Jim Hawley

A Thousand Year Love Story is the story of a couple in early Scotland who is cursed by a witch. Their spirits will travel through different incarnations through the history of Scotland, meeting every hundred years and being parted. They must endure this loss for nine incarnations before the curse will be placated and they will be able to remain together and be happy. They meet in new bodies but with the same spirits. They see in each others eyes that they were meant to be and that they have met and loved before. Though they never completely remember past lives, they know they have loved for hundreds of years. It follows the couple through the history of Scotland from AD 918 to AD 1914.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984549600

Book preview

PART 1

Corbrdge

CHAPTER 1

Scota was tall, dark-skinned with black hair which hung down almost to her waist. She had crossed the Nile river with a small retinue of servants under the cover of darkness. She was the daughter of Ramses II and was betrothed to the prince of the Nubians.

I will marry whom I wish and when I wish! she exclaimed to the Philistine slave who was rowing. I am not a tenet pawn to be moved and played at Ramses’ whim. She looked at the slave. Ply your oar, lazy oaf. I will have you thrown overboard and tied to the bow of the ship.

The slave ducked his head and pulled hard on his oar. Most of the slaves knew Scota and were anxious to land on the eastern bank of the Nile so the ship could rid itself of her. Most of her handmaids were accustomed to her abruptly changing moods and outbursts of anger. They did not enjoy her tantrums, but were used to them.

Though she was very beautiful, the master of the boat was also extremely anxious to land on the eastern shore and rid his boat of the spoiled princess.

Upon landing at the small dock, Scota paid the master of the boat handsomely, again extracting his promise to tell no one of his passenger. She hurriedly herded her retinue and had them ashore along with the small band of soldiers who were loyal to her as guards. They began a long trek across the Sinai peninsula.

Years later the group, many of whom had been lost to death, disease, and desertion, approached the beginnings of civilizaton. As they passed through the western edge of Phoenicia they entered the city of Byblos. Scota, who still had a slender, curvaceous body and soft, flawless skin, stopped a younger, muscular lad.

May you please show me the way to Carchemish? she inquired, batting her long eyelashes.

Why would anyone wish to go to Carchemish? snorted the young man.

Because I wish to hire a ship, retorted Scota.

What for?

To sail upon the sea, replied Scota becoming somewhat annoyed. Now, do you know the direction or should I ask someone who is not retarded?

Beware, my lady, growled the young man.

What is your name? inquired Scota. You are not unpleasing to gaze upon.

The young man stared at Scota for a long moment. Thank you, I think, he intoned.

What is your name? inquired Scota.

I am called Isaac.

Then, Isaac, do you have the ability to point me in the direction of Carchemish?

It were better, said Isaac, if I showed you the way.

Is it far? inquired Scota.

It is several days to the north.

Do you have anyone to whom you wish to bid goodbye?

I have no one, replied Isaac. I always carry with me everything I own and sleep where I can find.

Then why are we standing here merely talking?

If you and your… retinue will follow me, smiled Isaac. Without another word he turned and began walking toward the north. Four days later, the small ‘caravan’ reached the outskirts of the port city of Carchemish.

Isaac led them to the docks where they found three ships looking for cargo or passengers. When Scota told the captain of the first that she wished to sail through the Pillars of Hercules then north, he laughed loudly in her face so hard that his foul breath blew her long, dark hair back. They then talked to the captain of the second vessel He was a little more pleasant, but also declined, even when Scota offered him twice the normal price. At the third ship they found the captain was young and well-muscled. His darkened skin was weathered by sun and wind, but his dark hair flowed loose over his shoulders and he smiled continuously. When Scota spoke to him, he turned and looked at Isaac.

The lady wishes to hire your boat for a voyage, grinned Isaac.

Is that so? laughed the young captain.

I am Scota of Egypt, intoned the woman solemnly. I have wandered the deserts for hundreds of years and now wish to see the north country of which I heard tales.

The ‘north country’? frowned the captain. I am Antonius of Thebes and have never heard tell of any ‘north country’.

It is beyond the Pillars of Hercules and to the north. Scota looked around. The only ones around were Isaac, her retinue and the captain. I have heard tales of much adventure and gold there.

I would much prefer gold and adventure, smiled the Antonius.

It is only incumbent upon you to get me there, corrected Scota. Now, what price for such a voyage?

Antonius looked her up and down. For a modest price I will take you. If you will share your adventure with me and my crew, I will do it for half price.

Scota studied him. For now, let us settle of just the voyage. If I find you trustworthy and valuable, then we may negotiate further.

I will here take my leave of you, said Isaac.

You do not wish to join the adventure? asked Socta.

No, replied Isaac. I have plenty of adventure trying to stay alive here without risking a long voyage. He grinned. Besides, I like sand better than water.

Scota studied his face a minute. You cannot swim?

No, chuckled Isaac. I bid you good luck with your quest.

Scota and her servants, along with the heavy object carried in canvas hanging from a pole, boarded the ship while Antonius and his three man crew began loading supplies and preparing to sail.

By noon the next day, the moderate vessel set sail and turned west. The southern shores of Turkey and Greece slid by, sometimes barely visible in the distance. Days later they sighted the Pillars of Hercules and two days later were past them and turning north. They sailed along the east coast of Spain for several days.

Upon reaching the northeast point of Spain’s coast, Antonius found Scota on the deck. What from here, my lady?

Scota thought a moment. Keep the morning sun to your right and the afternoon sun to your left. Continue north.

Two days later they began sighting a bright green island to the right of the ship.

There! shouted Scota pointing toward the island.

Hyperborea, sighed Antonius.

No, corrected Scota. Not the mythical island of giants. It is merely an island filled with gold.

Antonius looked closely at her face, trying to detect any signs of deception. Then, we will turn east toward the green shore.

As they neared the coast of the green island, Antonius and Scota stood at the bow and stared at the land.

It is not a good place to land, commented Antonius.

Why not? quizzed Scota.

The bluffs, returned Antonius. There is no place to land the ship and enter upon the land.

What do you mean, ‘enter upon the land’?

Look, said Antonius pointing the the rocky shore. There is no place to step on the land. There is no shore. It is just a steep bluff.

I see, replied Scota.

We will sail a little further north.

The boat turned north and sailed several hours until an area was reached where there was an area of rocky beach before the land rose to moss and heather covered hills. They dropped anchor and took the small boat which was hanging from the stern and rowed to shore. Antonius and another sailor jumped into the knee-deep surf and pulled the boat up onto the bank so Scota could step out onto dry land.

Look, exclaimed Scota pointing up to the top of the hills.

Antonius looked up and saw a line of half-nude, tattooed men lined across the hills. Who are they? he inquired.

Hyperboreans, replied Scota. She walked forward, climbing the hill. Hail Hyperboreans, announced Scota in their language.

How did you know how to talk to them? asked Antonius.

I have a gift with languages, announced Scota. I spoke with a Phoenician who told me of these people. He taught me the language.

The front Hyperborean, almost certainly the commander, replied with a shout in their strange tongue.

Scota stared at him for a moment. He’s asking why we are here. She muttered to Antonius.

Why are you speaking softly? questioned Antonius. He wouldn’t understand your normal speech.

He would understand if I spoke in his language.

I mean when you just spoke to me, retorted Antonius.

Scota gave him a dirty look then turned back to the Hyperborean. She shouted something in the other man’s language.

The Hyperborean shouted something back then signaled to his compatriots. The group began strolling down the hill, carrying spears and curiously shaped clubs.

Antonius looked back at his sailors who had rowed the small boat to shore. Some were equipped with spears, but they all had swords. He nodded at the sailors, letting them know to be prepared to counter any attack.

But the Hyperboreans, walking stately and determinately, held their weapons in a relaxed and non-threatening position. Soon, the leader of the Hyperboreans and Scota were conversing in easy, warm tones.

After speaking with the Hyperboreans for three minutes, Scota turned to Antonius. These brave warriors will lead us to their settlement and provide us with a feast.

Antonius swept his hand forward. Lead on.

Scota and the Phoenicians followed the Hyperboreans up the hill and across the a small plain covered in bright green grass. Some time later they came to a forest. Just inside the forest was a village of huts made of bent limbs covered in skins. In the center of the village was a large fire which served as a community meeting area as well as a place where the families came to cook their food.

Aodh, the leader of this group, she indicated the man with whom she had first talked with a wave of her hand. Says this is his village. He welcomes us here.

My men are anxious to return to their homes, Antonius said to Scota a week later. We have had good cheer here, but the men wish to see more familiar shores.

I appreciate your help finding this place. Thank your men for placing the stone of Jacob in my hut. She smiled at Antonius. I will stay here. She reached into the pouch she carried on a strap around her neck and produced three large gems worth much money. Here is your payment for the journey.

Antonius looked at the gems in her hand. He looked back at the beautiful face. You know I could kill you and take all you have.

Scota smiled. You could, she said confidently. But, I know your heart and I know you will not do that.

Antonius grinned. He took the gems and bowed toward Scota. He turned quickly and, signaled to his crew, began marching back west toward the cove where the ship was anchored.

Your escort leaves you, commented Aodh as he walked up behind Scota.

Yes, sighed Scota, staring after Antonius.

Are you sad that they leave?

No. I knew they would not stay long. Scota sighed and turned to face Aodh. I have wandered for a thousand years. I have seen deserts, oceans, mountains and deep valleys. She patted Aodh on the shoulder. Now I would like to see the other side of your land.

It is many days form here, he pointed over his shoulder. To the east.

I will go, said Scota firmly. You may go with me or stay here. It matters not to me.

Aodh screwed up his face. I will go with you to the edge of land.

The next day, after preparing provisions, Scota, Aodh, and four of his warriors set off to the east. The warriors carried the pole which held a heavy stone. Many days later they arrived at a cliff which overlooked the ocean. Almost hidden in mist was a small island and, just past that, a land with high bluffs and rocky shore.

What is that land there? asked Scota pointing toward the land.

That is a large island inhabited by very mean, war-like people. They are dangerous and scary to behold.

Scota looked at Aodh, thinking that he was rather scary looking himself. I will go there.

But, it is dangerous.

Who will go with me? Scota asked turning to the warriors.

Two of the Irishmen stepped forward. We will go, said Brennan, one of the warriors.

Are the two of you able to carry the stone?

Stone? inquired Brennan.

The package carried under the pole, said Scota pointing at the burden they had carried. It contains a stone which held the head of Jacob as he dreamed of a ladder to heaven.

Brennan looked at Scota and thrust out his chest. We can carry it.

It is indeed heavy, my friend, smiled Scota.

It is ours to carry, replied Brennan.

They spent three days making a coracle out of a thick log which was carved into a boat-like shape. A second one was also made to carry the stone. They were lashed together and the small group crossed the narrow strait and within the day landed on the shore of the mountainous land Scota had seen from the western coast of Ireland. They landed on a narrow beach with a winding path leading up a steep hill. They followed the path and in four hours had reached the summit of the hill. Looking across to the west, the green of Ireland was almost hidden in a lowering fog. Turning around, Scota faced the new east. Brennan and his friend, Horblit, were standing in front of her.

Look for the last time upon your homeland, said Scota, indicating the west without turning around to face it.

Brennan stared into the distant fog for less than a second. Lead on, milady. We have no homeland but yours.

Scota looked at them in surprise. I don’t understand.

Many of our countrymen have emigrated to the land of the Scots, replied Brennan.

I thank you, smiled Scota.

The group travelled several days east before meeting a group of the Scots. With them was a tall man wearing a long, dark robe.

Hail, said Scota as she came up to the group. She held her hands up, palms forward.

Hail, returned the man in the lead of the group. I am Cynbel. This is Donnchad, he intoned, pointing to the man standing beside and just behind him. And this, he indicated the man in the robe. Is Columba. He is a Christian.

Scota nodded at Columba. I have known some of these men in my travels. She turned to Cynbel. We are weary and are traveling your country.

For what purpose are you traveling?

I am looking for a place… a special place, replied Scota.

And, may I inquire what type of special place are you seeking and for what purpose? asked Cynbel.

I have a special stone with me, replied Scota. I have traveled with it and protected it for many, many years. She swept her arm toward the bulging canvas which the two Irishmen carried.

And, what might this treasure be? asked Donnchad.

It is the stone upon which Jacob rested his head when he saw the angels ascending the ladder to heaven.

Columba stepped forward. My, my, that is, indeed, special.

Scota looked at him with a piercing stare. It is indeed a special stone. It is meant for a special place. She stepped one step toward Columba. Do you know of such a special place?

Columba looked at Cynbel. Indeed I do, my Lady. There is a special place to the east where I intend to build a great cathedral.

Show me this place, commanded Scota.

Many days passed as Columba, Cynbel and Donnchad led the group to the shore of a wide, beautiful bay.

Here, my Lady, said Columba, sweeping his arm around the land.

And, so the Cathedral of Scone was built. And the Stone of Scone, or the Stone of Destiny was placed in a honored place in the cathedral. For hundreds of years, every king of Scotland sat on this stone as he was crowned king.

CHAPTER 2

Near Doun, Scotland, 917 A.D.

And where do ye think ye’re gon’, Fiona? Angus MacDoun inquired of his thirteen year old daughter.

I’m off to market, replied the young girl.

Are ye goin’ tae get some flour?

Aye, Fiona replied. That and some material for a skirt.

And what’s wrong with the one ye’re wearin’?

Fiona faced her father, face hardened and hands on her hips. I have well outgrown this skirt! It is about tae fly apart off me body!

Angus smiled at the ire of the young red-head. Aye, that would na’ do.

Fiona threw the end of her thinning scarf over her left shoulder. I’ll be back later.

Aye, ye’ll be back. Angus adjusted his kilt and walked back into the rough cabin.

Fiona twirled around and began walking down the two-rutted road toward Doune. The morning sun was warm but there was a cooling breeze from the east. It caressed her face with cool, loving fingers. An hour later, she was passing the farm of the MacDonalds.

Good mornin’, lass, called out Cinaed MacDonald.

Ach, good mornin’ tae ye, responded Fiona.

And where are ye off to in such a hurry this fine mornin’? inquired Cinaed.

Fiona drew in a deep breath, thrusting out her thirteen-year-old chest. She shook her head, flinging her red hair around her face and neck. She straightened her back and pulled herself up to her full five feet two inch height.

I am off tae town, if it is of any concern to you, retorted Fiona.

Cinaed and Fiona had known each other for many years. Cinaed was almost a year older than the lass, and he stood four inches taller than her. He had long light-colored hair and a thin, bristly beard. There had been enmity and some well-earned respect between the two for quite some time.

Do ye need some help finding the way to town? asked Cinaed.

I quite well know the way to Doune, shot back Fiona.

Very well, lass. I was merely wonderin’ if ye needed some help on your long journey.

It is not such a long journey, countered Fiona. And, I am quite capable of toting my own goods home.

As ye wish. I was goin’ tae offer my services tae go with you and help you with the journey home.

Fiona put her hands on her