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Surviving 3Chapter 14: Parents! 2008AD free porn video
Scott was pleased that he now had sufficient working capital to do everything he thought he needed to do. What was more of a worry was that he had now been back in 2008 AD for almost four months and he had been unable to recruit a single person to take back with him. He knew time was running out if he was going to return on the 31st of May.
He had continued to chat on the Scottish forums for hours each night, but had so far been unable to unearth a single likely candidate. He thought back to something the Colonel had said - he had assumed Scott had been talking about a battle re-enactment society. Scott wondered what kind of people would be involved in such a thing? Would there be professional people who had that as their hobby?
Some further research on these types of organisations identified that there were thirteen reasonably active ones within twenty miles of his flat. Scott decided that it would be worth looking into and even perhaps taking his family along for a day out. There was no denying that they certainly had accurate period costumes to wear and he had little difficulty in convincing the girls it would be a fun thing to do.
On the day of the event Scott and his wives donned their ninth century clothes and piled into the 4x4 for the drive to Stirling. When they arrived there were already a number of large marquee tents erected and people were milling around in them buying odd bits of replica clothing and weaponry.
Scott could see there was a broad range of time periods represented in the mix of costumes on show, despite the fact the event had been billed as a re-enactment of the battle of Stirling Brig. Scott wondered at this, as it was the wrong time of year altogether for that battle. He found himself attached to the Wallace's forces and his wives waved and cheered him from the edge of the field. There was no finesse involved in the re-enactment. Leaders had been appointed and they shouted out instructions to the various forces, ordering them to move as history had suggested the various forces had been deployed during the real battle of Stirling Brig.
After several hours of rushing around screaming, a halt was called and everyone mingled to talk and drink beer that was now being served from another large tent. Scott's wives joined him with the babies and they chatted to lots of different groups. His excitement grew, as it became clear that the re-enactment society was full of a diverse mix of people. Already they had spoken to a doctor, a solicitor and several craftsmen - a plumber and an electrician.
Scott believed that this group held out real potential as a recruiting ground. They were obviously potty about Scottish history if the amount of time and money they devoted to re-enacting it was anything to go by. A buffet was served and Scott continued to work his way through the crowd, trying to speak to as many people as possible to find out their day to day occupations. He came across a nurse, a civil engineer and several senior scientists who worked at the Grangemouth refinery.
Just before he decided to call it a day he overheard one more conversation that held out even greater promise. A group of men standing behind him were talking about the biggest re-enactment of the year, the Battle of Bannockburn. From what they were saying there would be a number of other groups turning up for that event. There were apparently two groups that always put the others to shame. Their costumes and weaponry was very accurate in detail and the whole group matched up. One of the men grumbled that this was because the groups were made up of well-paid professional people with more money than sense.
Scott took the opportunity of talking to this group now and told them he had overheard them talking about the Bannockburn re-enactment. It was a simple matter to get them talking about the event as it was the one that all of these enthusiasts looked forward to. Before long Scott was able to turn the discussion round to the various groups that would turn up for that event and within minutes he had the names of the two societies that these men claimed were full of well paid professionals. He stored that information and then rounded up his family for the journey home.
Scott immersed himself in research on the two re-enactment societies that he had been told of. There was a lot of detail he could find online in the archives of the local newspapers in the areas they were based. His eyes lit up as he saw the copy that covered them, architects, engineers, scientists, it was a virtual re-creation of the list he had made back at Dalriada. He knew he had to meet up with these people and make some kind of attempt to enrol them for his plans.
The biggest drawback he could see was that neither of these societies was scheduled to take part in an event until the Bannockburn re-enactment according to their websites. Like every good Scotsman, he knew Bannockburn had taken place on 23/24th of June (in the year 1314), almost a month after he planned to return to ninth century Scotland. If he delayed so he could meet up with these people he would be missing from Dalriada not for six but for twelve years and that could be disastrous.
Scott discussed his problem with his wives and asked for their advice. All of them made it clear that if he returned after six years with nothing then that would be worse than returning after twelve years with the people that Scotland needed. Scott fretted over this, agonised even. To be away from his other two sons, David and Crinan, to leave his friends Gabrain and Lachlan, and to leave Scotland for twelve years. This was a truly soul destroying choice that he had to make.
He tried to clear his mind by going out for a walk. He walked round and round the park, weighing up what his responsibilities as High King were. What if Scotland was under assault? What if his children and friends needed him? At last he came to the painful conclusion that his wives were right. He had to at least make an attempt at recruiting the people he thought he needed. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that he had left Scotland with far superior weaponry with which to defend itself while he was away. It was highly unlikely that her enemies would catch up, even in twelve years.
Scott walked slowly back to the flat, his head bowed under the weight of the thoughts he was having to consider and the consequences of the choices he was making. He turned his key in the lock of his door and heard a familiar voice coming from the sitting room. Scott's insides shrivelled up.
"Sweet Jesu! It's my mother!" He thought to himself.
He could hear the girls talking to his mother, the tone as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. Scott began to relax, assuming that his wives had somehow managed to create a cover story that was good enough to explain to his mother why they were there. But then he heard...
"Oh, I have the cutest grandchildren! Now remember girls; don't let Scott have his own way all the time. It's important you let him think he's getting his own way when he's actually doing exactly what you want him to."
"But Mama, he's not as dim as other men, sometimes he sees through what we're trying to do!" Said Fiona.
"That's no excuse Fifi, you have to try harder."
"I think it's wrong to try and deceive our husband like that. He sacrifices so much for us and even more for Scotland. He truly is the chosen Ard Ri." Said Eilean.
"Yes, this of being High King, I'm sure that Fergus will make a lot of mileage with that down at the golf club! And I suppose that makes me the High King's mother!" Heather MacDonald giggled.
"Mama, we told you last week, neither you not Fergus can tell anyone about any of this. It would cause a big problem for Scott." Said Helfe.
Scott had heard enough. His mother obviously knew the girls were his wives, that the children were his and that he was High King. It was clear that this was not her first visit with the girls and she certainly didn't seem freaked out about the information she currently had. He decided it was time to face the music.
He walked into the sitting room and all conversation died. His wives looked at him as if they had been caught eating the last of his favourite prawns. His mother looked at him... well, as she had always looked at him, as her little boy.
"Mom, we need to talk I think."
"Oh we need to do a lot of talking Scott. You're going to have to explain why you've kept these beautiful grandchildren from me! Yes my boy, you've got a lot of explaining to do!"
Scott gulped as the extent of his mother's knowledge was revealed. What continued to nag at the back of his head was that his mother didn't seem to be questioning the whole 'back in time, my son is the High King of Scotland' position.
"Scott, your father and I can forgive you most things, but to keep our grandchildren from us is unforgivable. Fergus has been waiting, arguing that I should give you the benefit of the doubt for weeks now. He swears you are just waiting for the right time to tell us. He makes excuses for you, says that it's probably because it's all so unbelievable that you can't find a way to tell us. Well my boy, now's the time to explain yourself!"
Scott could see that somehow his mother had focussed on the issue of her grandchildren above all else. His cardinal sin seemed to be that he had kept them from her and everything else was secondary.
Just then he heard the doorbell chime.
"Oh good," said his mother, "that sounds like Fergus now, you can explain yourself to both of us at the same time."
Scott walked to the door and let his father in. His father shared a look with him before the women saw them, the kind of look that spoke of male solidarity in the face of overwhelming female odds.
Everyone returned to the siting room and Scott's mother continued where she had left off.
"I was just saying Fergus, our boy has got a lot to answer for, how could he keep our grandchildren from us when we have been so desperate to have them now for so long."
"Heather, I'm sure there's a good explanation."
"Well, that's what I've been asking him for."
Scott couldn't take anymore of this surreal discussion and his natural emotions took over.
"Mother! I can understand your issues about grandchildren, but there's a bigger picture here. Why aren't you asking about time travel? Why are there no questions about the fact I have three wives? What about the fact that I am High King?"
"Don't get so uppity with me Scott! And you have still to explain about Kirsty - who is she? I've heard the girls mention her and another they refer to as the first little Tina. Who are they?"
"Yes son, why didn't you share this with us? We have always stood by you." His father said.
"Listen to yourselves! This is incredible. How could I come to you and tell you I had been thrown back in time to the ninth century, had a wife, a child and they were killed by the Vikings? How could I tell you I had other wives? You would have had me committed!"
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