Lucius's World

by Robert Ian Wilson

  We heard a volley of gunfire not far off from where we were, and it made me nervous. I drew my gun, which I was keeping as a last resort, and the Gnome stared at my weapon with a frown.

  “You can't use that...”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “That particular firearm hasn't been invented yet; we don't want the Spanish to have such advanced technology. Especially in an era where the Europeans are advancing in every way possible.”

  He was right, this was the century of literacy, art, expeditions, growth, science, and advanced warfare; this was the age of gunpowder. It caused me to be extra cautious and a bit paranoid on holding onto anything, which could alter time, especially if the lost item fell into the hands of the wrong person. We certainly stuck out like a sore thumb, particularly a Dwarven Gnome, sporting numerous historical artefacts and me, with modern French attire.

  We found the cause of the blackened sky. Smoke ascended from a large cathedral; Sedgwick said it was named, the Basilique de Saint-Quentin.

  “This is a common sight. The Cathedral will endure a lot more than fire, especially in your timeline, Lucius. Most of the building will be destroyed in the World War,” explained the Gnome.

  Not far from where we hid, there was a commotion up a street. Carts were pulled onto their sides and the contents of fresh produce were scattered across the muck. I noticed five men huddled behind the cart and heavily armed.

  “Spanish,” said Sedgwick. “They’re Arquebusiers, can you see their hand cannons? Long muskets?”

  I observed the medieval red and yellow armoured infantrymen, who loaded there long piped guns with gunpowder. The leader was dressed in full steel armour and held a rather extravagant sword in his hand. They seemed to be aiming their fury at the French musketeers, who ducked behind a short wall; their colours of blue were easy to distinguish at a distance.

  “We need to get past this rabble,” grumbled the Gnome.

  It was going to be dangerous, from the stray bullets that ricochet against the surrounding area.

  Across the street was a walkway, which led through an alley, but in order to reach it, we’d have to endure a venture through the crossfire.

  Without little choice, we ducked and moved quickly across the street. I stumbled in the mud and landed with a heavy thud. Sedgwick was across and turned to see me on the floor. I heard a shout from one of the Spanish soldiers, who directed his attention towards me. I hadn't a clue what the man said, but I had the inkling, it was not good.

  He directed his gun at me and shouted again; expecting a response, in his native language. A strange thought ran through my mind as I stared down the barrel of his gun; if I was killed in this time period, would I be erased from history? What would the implications be if I take a life or cause death?

  The Solider had his focus on me and not the real threat, who seemed to be getting closer to their targets.

  “No dispares! No dispares!” pleaded a squeaky voice from the alley, but the cavalier still persisted with his first intentions. He fired and luckily just skimmed my right arm. I felt blood trickle down my arm as I shouted in pain. I looked to the Gnome, who was still pleading with the Spaniard; then I felt a small arm wrap around my waist, and I was helped up by a small figure. We headed for cover and collapsed against a wall.

  “Lucius! Are you okay!?” worried the Dwarf.

  I inspected my flesh wound and looked to our mysterious helper, who hid under a large hood.

  I could hear the Spaniard running up the street, his boots squelching against mud.

  “This man is persistent...”

  “And ruthless...” replied Sedgwick.

  The hooded helper grabbed my arm again. “Suivez-moi maintenant!” it said, and I was pulled into running down the alley, with Sedgwick trailing behind.

  I witnessed the wall explode next to my head and I flinched and kept running at full pace. The Spaniard had fired a shot, but he had stopped in his pursuit. I wasn't sure whether he’d gave up the chase or was shot after being exposed in the open; my thoughts drifted back to my looming questions about time.

  Chapter Five - Our Mystery Helper

  We came to a wide street, with a large open space, which was used for a market. There were rows of abandoned stalls, with produce stocked up in large baskets. Our friend picked up a basket full of apples and pears. We were directed towards a tired looking house. The upstairs windows were smashed, and the door displayed a huge crack through the wood.

  Inside wasn't any better, it had been ransacked and looted by the Spanish forces. There were signs of a struggle; dried blood coated the tiled floor and the walls had bullets holes sprayed across the white stone. It made me wonder why this person would decide to stay in such a depressing place...

  We came into the kitchen and there was a prepped fire, cooking the contents of a cauldron. The smell was very enticing, and my stomach rumbled from the lack of food I hadn’t consumed, since leaving Portsmouth.

  I thanked our helper and waited for a response from the reserved hooded figure. Sedgwick grumbled and muttered something about the timelines; he was starting to sound like a broken record.

  “You live here?” I asked.

  The figure’s identity was finally revealed when he pulled down his hood. A young boy with golden hair and dark brown eyes stared between me and the Gnome; he looked at least thirteen.

  “Big place for someone so young...” said Sedgwick.

  The boy spoke, “It's been abandoned, like the rest of this plagued city; the Spanish have ransacked the district, and everyone has fled.”

  “You speak good English,” praised the Gnome.

  “My mama taught me,” replied the boy.

  “Is that why you’re here? Are you waiting for her?”

  “They’re gone - and I don't see the point of moving on when there are easy pickings.”

  I thought the boy was very resourceful but staying in such a place could have been lonesome; if it was me, I would definitely feel the effect of being by oneself.

  We sat near the fire and the lad brought us a bowl of onion soup. The food satisfied my aching belly. It tasted very fresh and I would say it pipped Thea's soup by a large margin; obviously, I've never told her that.

  It was a strange feeling to be in a medieval kitchen. The workspace had similarities to my own home. I noticed the hanging baskets of veg and fruit over the chopping block; the pans and cookery equipment were stacked up in the sink. Over the centuries, the layout of a kitchen had hardly changed, only the evolution of a recipe or the style of a cook.

  The day had become night and Sedgwick decided we should stay a bit longer and get some rest. The effects of travelling through the earth’s energy hadn't fully gone from my body and we decided it was best to avoid any risk. The boy let us stay, although he didn’t have much say in the matter, as Sedge pointed out, it wasn't his place to offer solitude.

  “Your strange friend is - bit... how do you say? grincheux... grumpy,” joked the boy.

  “Yeah, you can say that. In the short time that I've known him, he has come across a bit too serious.”

  I caught the boy eyeing the valuables around the Dwarfs attire as Sedgwick was drifting off to sleep and he looked away when I caught his gaze.

  I finally asked him his name, and he replied, “Alexander; but my brothers called me Aly. What are your names?”

  I thought it was best not to use our proper names, in-case of disrupting the future and creating an anomaly. I chose my middle name and replied, “Fred. And this is...”

  “None of your business,” muttered the Gnome.

  “His name is Grouch. Fitting, isn't it?”

  We chuckled at Sedgwick's new name, he didn't seem to mind, or he simply didn't have the energy for a clever quip.

  “Tell me, why are you on your own?”

  “My family were forced out of our home when the Spanish began looting Saint-Quentin. I was at our market stall when it started. I ran home and found my house turned upside
down and there was no sign of my father, mother, and brothers. There was - was blood everywhere - so only one can assume, they were either killed, captured or simplement corou... fled.”

  I felt for Aly, for someone so young to endure so much pain. I could relate to his situation and he struck a chord with my sympathy and I told him about my past. As the years progressed, so did the information that concerned my parent’s demise, I was always told, they’d been involved in an unfortunate, freak accident; it wasn't until my eighteenth birthday, I’d learnt the full truth from grandfather Egbert. Even as I write now, I can feel my hands shake at the thought, it still affects me to this day.

  My father was a Lord, like my grandpa and a politician, who invoked a new law, which rattled many cages. Initially, we were meant to travel to London for a case-ruling, but my parents decided it was best to flee the country. My father’s enemies caught wind of his intentions to escape and he hurried home with my mother. They’d taken a dangerous route, and in haste, their carriage was hit by a rockslide. The commotion spooked the horses and caused them to veer from the road. They went off a cliff and into the sea below. Although I couldn’t recollect the event, there was always something that felt amiss. I was apparently with my grandfather at the time, back home, awaiting their arrival, but they never showed…

  “Why do you tell me this, Fred?” asked Aly.

  I only had one answer. “Because you remind me, of myself.”

  We all found comfort for the night and rested until the morning was disrupted by a loud bang. Saint-Quentin had erupted into another day of chaos, but it sounded like two armies had collided on the outskirts. The Spanish had moved forward and the market outside was overrun by Spaniards.

  They had carriages and were loading up the baskets of food; a regiment seemed to be knocking down doors.

  “Is there a back way to this place?” asked Sedgwick; Aly nodded and pointed towards the cellar stairs. The infantryman was close, and the sounds of broken furniture and smashed ornaments came from next door.

  We hurried down into the small cellar and I knocked into a wine-rack, which caused the bottles to chime. There was shouting above; orders were being barked to the soldiers who moved into our building. We reached the door, but it was locked!

  We looked to Aly who hysterically spoke in his native tongue. He hadn't used the back door before and there was no key.

  “What now?” I whispered.

  We were trapped in a very confined space, with the Spanish breathing down our necks. The only one who was calm was the Gnome. He gave the door a gentle tap with his walking stick; the very stick he withdrew from the ley-line cart.

  The door locks twanged and opened.

  “Let’s go,” commanded Sedgwick.

  “How did you do that?” I asked, but I was shushed as we walked into another alleyway.

  The pentagram on the sticks handle began to flash white and the time-traveling gnome used it as a compass. It blinked faster in the direction we ventured in.

  We managed to avoid any confrontation and kept to the shadows once more; it was easy to hide in the corners of the confined buildings. I must say, the smell was unbearable. We were close to the gutters, where waste was disposed of. It was the century of chucking your dirt out a window and I remember the stench being incredibly distinctive.

  Sedgwick's stick guided us towards the flames of Basilique Saint-Quentin, the direction we all dreaded to venture in. The heat from the fire swept through the narrow streets of the city and it was hard to see anything through the black smog. There was no point in hiding, but we were still cautious of the looming threats.

  We finally came across some French civilians who were just innocent bystanders. Their homes would have been abandoned for the two-year hiatus of the city before Saint-Quentin finally got back on track in 1559.

  We were forced to use blankets that Aly had found from a carriage, to wrap around our faces.

  My eyes stung and watered from the smoke.

  It had begun to rain, and the skies were even darker than before; I had an eerie feeling and a spine tingle of danger. I wasn't the only one who felt like we were being watched, but nothing came forth from the darkness. Aly stared at a spot beyond a tavern, and I was sure he felt it too.

  We were close now.

  “Where do we go from here?” I asked.

  Sedgwick pointed at the burning cathedral and gestured for us to go inside.

  You have to be joking! I thought it was a crazy notion, but if it meant escaping the century, then we hadn't a choice.

  I looked to the Gnome with an important question, one which involved our new friend. The possibility of bringing him with us was low; I knew the repercussions could have escalated if we disrupted the timeline; his future relatives would have been erased from existence and their contribution to earth, gone.

  I had to tell him before we moved any further because I couldn't bring a child into a burning building and then leave him there for certain death. Like I said before he was resourceful and I tried to convince myself, he’d be fine; but this wasn't a safe century.

  The only option I thought of at the time was to find him a family amongst the chaos, although it would’ve most likely upset the fragility of time, unless, we were already part of the past, like an ageless stone in a cobbled road; we could have altered the future by interacting with the boy. I asked the very same thing to Sedgwick who agreed with my hypothesis and we both decided to find a sanctuary for Alexander, despite our concerns.

  We stayed away from our reluctant destination and found a French family packing what little belongings they had left. I had to explain my predicament to Aly, who naturally couldn't understand why we were leaving him. He made the point of saving our lives and that we owed him, and I remember the sadness in his eyes; I’d only known him for a short time, yet he felt like a little brother.

  Sedgwick tried to explain, he said: “Where we're going, is a place, not meant for someone so young. We can't take you with us because our situation is even more dangerous than the one, we are in now. Saint-Quentin is near its end and the city will start to thrive after the war. You’ll be safer with these people than with us.”

  Aly understood and the Gnome had explained things without sharing our secrets and made his point without sounding patronising.

  We didn't approach the family, there were still certain risks and so, we sent Aly on his way like a stray cat. He looked back and we watched until the family welcomed him with open arms. The mother cleaned his face and gave him food. We were satisfied and it was best to leave and set off towards the next ley-line, which was unfortunately in a burning building.

  The stick guided us to the Basilique once more and we headed in, through a small door in the back entrance. I would’ve loved to have seen the cathedral in all its glory, but the skies would be dark for a couple of days, and it was time we didn’t have.

  Inside, the roof had caved in and there were flames in every direction. The heat was so intense, it caused me to sweat like a hog. Sedgwick's beard had lit up like a candle and the fire singed the grey hair. He patted it out like a mad man and stroked the remains of his beloved beard.

  We hurried into the very centre of the building and the sticks pentagram shined ever so brightly as we stood on a tiled maze. The pattern was in the shape of a black and white labyrinth.

  “Get ready Lucius, this will be quite a weird experience for you,” warned Sedgwick.

  He tapped his stick on the floor and a light shot out from the pentagram and into a tiled compass. There were compasses in many cathedrals and churches across the world and I’d always wondered about their true purpose; they were part of the ley-lines.

  The compass shone in the smoke and the tiled maze was activated. We witnessed the light travel from the compass and passed through the many twists and turns within the labyrinth; avoiding the dead ends and finished to where we stood.

  We were transported from 1557 to somewhere incredibly unusual; it felt like we’d bee
n minimized into the confines of the maze floor. The walls were humungous and as smooth as marble. The sky was white; no clouds or even a sun.

  There was nothing, except silence.

  Chapter Six - The Labyrinth

  It was a strange place, where we’d ended up; I felt we had entered a realm with a high altitude because my ears kept popping.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “This is a realm, fused with a ley-line,” explained the Gnome. “For security purposes.”

  “Securing it from what?”

  “Humans. From past, present, and future.”

  I could see why there were so many precautions in guarding the earth's energy; just imagine a dictator or fascist getting their hands-on time... it also made me aware, how hard Sedgwick's occupation must have been.

  “So, how do we move forward from this?” I asked as I looked around the chequered white and black walls. I only saw a passage, which split into two directions.

  “The compass in the cathedral had shown us the way...”

  I didn't realise the light that came from the compass in Basilique Saint-Quentin had shown us the directions through the labyrinth. Luckily Sedgwick had paid attention, as my observation skills had failed me once again; the Gnome managed to memorise the layout within his mind.

  I followed him and listened to our echoed footsteps clap against the stone, it was like being part of a tap-dancing team. We ventured in quite deep and the eerie silence had a sudden tick-tock, which entwined within the atmosphere. It caused me to look at my own pocket watch, but it hadn't been working since I disappeared into Eve; I always thought the time-zone had affected my father’s watch.

  We came to an end of a bleak passage and the intense shine from the white sky and glossy structured maze gave me a nauseous feeling. The tick-tock of a far-away clock was a constant nuisance and my mind created an illusion of being closed in by the large encroaching walls. “I’m not sure, how long I can keep going in this place.”