Refuge in Time

by Sarah Woodbury

  Aymer’s hands clenched into fists. “How dare you speak to me that way!”

  Michael was beginning not only to believe but understand why David and William de Bohun had talked about Aymer the way they had. He appeared to be full of energy and slightly unhinged. Maybe a little more than slightly.

  Roger put his hand on his wife’s arm. “Forgive my wife, Aymer. I have allowed her too great a latitude in speaking her mind.”

  Aymer wasn’t interested in the apology. “Living to fight another day is not a crime!”

  “But running from battle is.” Amery was relentless and unwilling to be silent. “Saving your own skin as your men go down is.”

  “You will leave us now, Amery.” Roger didn’t look at his wife.

  “Of course, my lord.” Amery rose to her feet. “But I will take the girl with me.”

  Aymer reached for Livia’s arm. “She’s my prison—”

  “I will take the girl with me, Lord Aymer. As we are all well aware, a wife has no say over her husband’s allegiances. And we do not kill girls in this house. Release her.” Amery picked up her skirt with one hand and gestured to Livia with the other. “Come.”

  At Roger’s nod, Aymer gritted his teeth, but he dropped Livia’s arm. Even so, Livia’s feet remained frozen to the floor for a second until Michael said in an undertone. “Go. Better for both of us that you go.”

  Livia went, albeit with a troubled backward glance, leaving Michael alone with his guards and the two lords. With the departure of the women, everyone in the hall seemed to relax—except Aymer, who was still wound tight as a drum. “Roger, these two could mean the difference between—”

  Roger waved a hand at Aymer. “Let it be, Aymer. You happened upon Michael in the village, moments before entering my hall. He hardly constitutes a trophy.” Now he bobbed his head. “He isn’t going anywhere. Break your fast while I decide what to do with him.”

  Aymer vibrated with anger a little longer, and then he subsided enough to nod to his men, who actually dispersed. Aymer stalked to the end of the high table, grabbing a flagon of wine from in front of Roger on the way. Rather than sitting, he continued after his men. “I’ll be in my quarters. Let me know what you decide, my lord.”

  That left Michael standing alone before Roger Pilkington, though, of course, Roger still had three men-at-arms of his own in the hall.

  Roger stroked his beard. “You present me with a problem, sir.”

  “That was not my intent, my lord.” Michael sincerely hoped a lifetime of watching period pieces with his mother, who loved them, had given him a relatively accurate sense of what to say and how to say it. He was thinking if he pretended to himself that he wasn’t in England, that the army had dropped him instead into a foreign country with whose customs he was only passingly familiar, he would do better.

  “Your intent was to connect with Lord Callum, I presume.”

  Michael bent his head slightly. “Yes, my lord. I understand he passed through here recently.”

  “You were going the wrong way, you realize? Lord Callum went north.”

  “Yes, my lord. But we needed food and horses, since we were robbed of all our possessions on the road. I saw your manor, and I hoped ... for my lady wife ...”

  Roger growled. “You hoped for hospitality.”

  Now Michael really did bow. “I assumed you were a loyal servant of the king. It was my understanding the king’s army camped on your land two nights ago before continuing their march north.”

  “They did.”

  “And you received them? You lied to them about your loyalties?”

  Roger tapped his fingers on the table. “I am not obligated to justify my actions to you.”

  “No,” Michael said reasonably, “but I am in the king’s confidence. When he wins this war and gets around to dealing with the lesser traitors, you might be glad you told me.”

  “First my wife and now you.” Roger tsked through his teeth. “I bent the knee to Balliol because I had no choice. I accommodated Lord Callum and his army because I had no choice. When Aymer de Valence appeared yesterday claiming to have a message from Balliol, I let him in because I felt I had no choice.”

  “Tell that to David when he comes. He will understand.” Michael realized only belatedly that he should probably be referring to David as the king.

  “Will he? It’s still treason.” Roger jerked his head to someone behind Michael. “Get him food, wine. Watch him, while I consider what’s to be done.”

  One more time, Michael found armed men on either side of him, gripping his upper arms. They prodded him—more gently than had Aymer de Valence’s men—towards a seat at the end of the long table closest to the high table, and he sat with his back to the wall.

  But before Roger could leave, Michael raised his voice. “My wife—”

  “My wife will see she is cared for. You need have no fear for her.” Grumbling discontentedly, Roger strode for the door at the rear of the hall through which his wife and Livia had disappeared. Then, to Michael’s gleeful astonishment, he threw a few last words over his shoulder, “Cette affaire empire tout le temps.”

  Michael nearly laughed out loud. He’d once watched The Empire Strikes Back in French, and it had been amusing at the time that ‘is getting worse’ was ‘empire’ in French.

  And, despite being held hostage, Michael couldn’t help but think Cade had been right all along: they had arrived exactly where they were meant to.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  4 April 2022

  Chad

  By noon, even Chad’s patience was wearing thin. Recently, there’d been more activity in other parts of the house. He could hear it. Because he was expecting something to happen, he had spent the last quarter of an hour standing in front of the window, through which he could see a sliver of driveway.

  And that was why, when two large SUVs swept up to the house, he knew instantly something had changed. He couldn’t see who got out of the vehicles, but he was back on the couch, affecting a casual pose, when the door to the game room opened and admitted a woman he recognized from her dossier, Kavya Collins.

  Finally.

  She stood in the doorway for a moment, and then she took another step inside to allow two technical people hovering behind her to enter. One of them approached the table, sweeping aside the remains of their latest snack, which Fleming had been gracious enough to accord them, and laid a briefcase upon it, which she opened, revealing a laptop.

  Chad didn’t move, but Sophie, who was on her fourth cup of coffee by his count, was on her feet in an instant. “You do realize we’ve been relegated to this room for the last six hours? We haven’t done anything wrong. I assume you are here to tell us how badly you screwed up.”

  It was what Chad had wanted to say, but since Sophie had spared him the need, he rose languidly to his feet and approached. He’d been nothing but helpful, and they knew it. Most of the time, he came across as an enthusiastic boy, like when he’d pitched his proposal to Anna. Sometimes he used that to his advantage. And though he hadn’t learned discretion in the last two weeks, trust was coming a little less easily.

  Kavya’s jaw clenched for a moment. “My apologies for detaining you, Mr. Treadman. Believe me when I tell you it was for your own safety.”

  “My safety?”

  “And I think you’ll agree in a moment it was well worth the wait.” Kavya gestured to the technician, who pressed a button on the keyboard and started a video that took up the whole screen. It had been taken from a highway camera. The angle was awkward, as was often the case with these cameras, but it showed a portion of a roundabout with the Menai Strait in the distance. Both the Strait and the sky were gray, indicating dawn had come recently enough to provide light for the camera to adequately capture the subsequent scene.

  It was a feed Candy had found and Chad had sent to Fleming over three hours ago.

  Several cars drove around the roundabout, and then an orange Citroen came into view, recogniza
ble immediately as belonging to Reg’s wife, which meant the passengers were Michael, Livia, and Cade, though the camera captured little more than their shapes within the vehicle. Not far behind was a white panel van, and then a stream of other cars. The video then skipped to the Citroen leaving the highway, still on the A55 motorway, with the same van following.

  The video continued, showing shot after shot of the Citroen, followed by the van as well as various other vehicles. The last feed was much steadier and not one Chad had seen before. As it progressed, it became clear it was being taken from a camera fitted to the front of a vehicle, possibly even the white panel van. The Citroen had come to the top of the granite mine, and the angle was such that the Menai Strait was in the distance. Then the little orange car accelerated towards the edge of the cliff, kicking up clouds of white dust from the granite quarry—and went over the edge. The camera whited out with the characteristic flash, and when it came back into focus, the van and two other vehicles were skidding to halt near the cliff edge.

  “Bollocks!” proclaimed someone inside the vehicle, since this particular feed came with sound.

  A few seconds later, sirens could be heard. The feed switched again, this time to one that was more unsteady, making Chad think it was a mobile phone, and a moment later three police cars blew by the person who was taking the video and parked behind the remaining vehicles, preventing them from leaving.

  Other than some shallow breathing from Sophie, utter silence descended on the room. Chad could practically hear Kavya smirking.

  He decided to humor her. “I gather you’ve identified these men and their vehicles?”

  “We have. They are former members of the Security Service, who, in recent years, have found employment overseas.”

  Chad gave that statement the moment of respect it deserved. “Working for whom?”

  “Various unsavory organizations, but also freelancing for covert operations under the auspices of the British government.”

  That was a bombshell he’d actually expected.

  Kavya’s jaw was very tight. “Contract work pays better.”

  Sometimes it really was that simple.

  “Are they talking?” Sophie asked.

  “They are.”

  Chad laughed under his breath. “So you actually know for whom they were working? You actually know who orchestrated the shooting at the warehouse?”

  She relented fully. “We arrested Grant Dempsey, MI-5’s head of Internal Security, an hour ago as he was attempting to leave the country.” Kavya pointed to the screen. “Dempsey didn’t know whom he was chasing, only that it was a member of King David’s family. One of the employees in Jack Stine’s department discovered a second flash at the same moment as the one that took David away. He reported this finding to Jack, who reported it to Grant Dempsey, who saw to it that neither of them could report it to anyone else until the operation was over.”

  Chad frowned. “And then what? Dempsey risked his career for this.”

  “He hoped not to get caught. But he says, even now that he has been caught, it was worth it. He claims to be a patriot. That’s why he made sure nobody was killed.”

  “My employee is still missing,” Chad said, and at Kavya’s quizzical look, he added, “Terence, my security agent guarding the entrance to the car park? He hasn’t been seen since last night.”

  Kavya nodded. “We found him. He was dumped at the front door of a hospital in Chester and registered as a John Doe. He has no memory of the events of the night.”

  “Was Dempsey working with the CIA?” Sophie asked.

  “He says no, and he doesn’t share their agenda.” Now Kavya pulled a cell phone from her pocket, set it on the table, and pressed talk. “Sir, I have Chad Treadman here with me. I have read him in.”

  Director Philips came on the line. “The Security Service apologizes for the assault on your house. We should have anticipated it.”

  Chad decided not to comment on the fact that the Security Service had needed to apologize for a great deal of late. “Apology accepted. Why did he do it?”

  “Dempsey wanted David gone, for the safety of the country and our universe. If he couldn’t kill him, sending him back to his alternate reality was the next best thing.”

  Chad gave a little huh. “I assumed whoever was behind the shooting didn’t believe.”

  “It seems likely,” Philips said, with something of a dry tone. “You might have told us earlier that Anna’s son was here.”

  “By not sharing, I prevented Dempsey from abducting him,” Chad said.

  “Or you allowed a valuable asset to return to the Middle Ages.”

  “You consider Cade an asset?” Sophie said, appalled.

  “He wasn’t to Grant Dempsey, but there are others with far worse agendas,” Philips said. “As it is, we didn’t know he was here, so we couldn’t protect him.”

  Chad wasn’t convinced. “The only one I had to protect him from, as it turned out, was you. I realize Dempsey tricked Fleming and the NCA into attacking my house this morning, but the fact that Fleming could be tricked is on you, not me. If you hadn’t allowed that to happen, if you had cleaned your own house, Cade would still be here.”

  “Did Dempsey’s goons deliberately chase Cade off that cliff?” Sophie’s word to describe the culprits was one David had used when he talked about the men who worked for Livia.

  “According to our captured goons, as you call them, they personally were skeptical of the time traveling,” Philips said. “They were told their job was to take those in the car into custody. They thought it would be easy once they realized there was only one man to protect the boy and woman.”

  “The woman they really wanted, though, was me,” Sophie said, and then she clapped a hand over her mouth as Chad glared at her.

  “What was that?” Philips said.

  Chad hurried to ask another question. “So these weren’t the same men who did the shooting?”

  “According to Dempsey, those two were professional assassins, and they are long gone. Those in the follow cars were lower down on the leadership chart, acquired by Dempsey at something of the last minute, in response to Cadell’s arrival.”

  Chad found himself laughing under his breath, but Philips’ tone darkened. “Because you didn’t trust me, because Livia didn’t trust me, events got out of hand for us too. None of this had to happen.”

  Honestly, Chad wasn’t so sure about that.

  Nor was Sophie. “Was framing Chad for the shooting part of Dempsey’s plan?”

  “It seems framing Chad was actually the backup plan. It was Livia who was to take the fall.” Philips paused. “As she did in Sarajevo. She was the perfect mark in that regard. Low level enough not to be able to effectively defend herself, but skilled enough to be a credible suspect.”

  “Are you telling me Dempsey was behind whatever happened to Livia in the Balkans?” Chad said.

  Philips was silent a moment. “Not that we know. But Dempsey knew of the events there, and that Livia had been implicated at the time. He was going to use that to cover for his own actions. He knew all the right people. He already had them on speed dial.”

  “If Cade hadn’t arrived, are you saying he might have gotten away with it?” Chad asked.

  Philips hemmed and hawed a bit before answering. “The initial plan wasn’t that complicated, and Dempsey covered his tracks reasonably well. It might have worked. It was his bad luck the boy arrived when he did, and it was his mistake to go after him.”

  “And we were lucky,” Chad said.

  “How so?” Philips said. “As far as I can see, the last three days have been an unmitigated disaster.”

  “Both David and Cade are well out of the hands of the opposition,” Chad said. “And as you said, nobody died.”

  Philips grunted. “I grant you that.” He cleared his throat. “We would hope you are open to procedures that might avoid a similar situation in the future.”

  “Perhaps that could be negotiate
d.” Now that Chad had what he wanted, he was willing to be conciliatory.

  “This time travel thing does seem to test people’s loyalties, doesn’t it?” Sophie said.

  “With David and his family, we are closer than we have ever been to the unknown,” Philips said. “These days, we are living on the edge. Not everybody likes the feeling.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  4 April 1294

  Cade

  Cade had been the ringleader of quite a bit of mischief over the years among his cousins. Nothing harmful, of course, and mostly funny—at least in his opinion. He’d climbed walls he wasn’t supposed to and left strategically placed frogs in latrines to frighten the next lady who entered. It was a well-worn jest, but hilarious nonetheless.

  But he’d never run away. And he’d never ridden anywhere all by himself.

  The rushing feeling of victory that had accompanied his initial escape had drained away by this point, past fear to something breathless and desperate. He tried to remember what it had felt like to be captured by Roger Mortimer’s men back when he was three, but he could recall very little of those events. He didn’t remember being this afraid. He didn’t remember much at all except the smell of horse and the feeling of his mother’s arm around his waist.

  This was different. He desperately wanted to be the hero. He could envision himself sneaking into the castle, disabling the guards with his superior swordsmanship, and rescuing Michael and Livia.

  But the truth was, he needed help. It was broad daylight, in a village and manor where he was a stranger. The only reason he had escaped at all was because Aymer’s men were arrogant enough not to care about peasants and hadn’t stayed at the manor long enough to recognize the stable boys.

  While Aymer had talked to Livia and Michael, Cade had been watching through a hole in the wall. Aymer himself was not what Cade expected, at least to look at. He was supposed to be near in age to Cade’s Uncle David, but he sure looked older. He was already mostly bald! Cade hadn’t been able to see much of the rest of him, but he would never forget his eyes, which were so dark they were almost black—and kind of crazy. It gave Cade the shivers—real life shivers—to think of them. Aymer’s eyes were the main force driving Cade to hightail it south to find help rather than trying to get into the castle on his own.