Resurrection

by Barker,Ashe

  "Ah, okay then. Food first. Hop back into bed and I'll bring it to you."

  Now this she could follow, and these instructions were much more to her liking. Jane scrambled back beneath the cover and peered at him from the warm cocoon.

  "Two minutes," he said. He dropped the pile of clothing onto the mattress beside her and left.

  Should she flee? How far might she run in two minutes? Would she find someone prepared to lend her aid?

  It was hunger which convinced her to remain. She would look for an opportunity to escape later, when she had eaten.

  Jane spent the time she waited for her food lifting and examining each item of apparel he had brought for her. The fabrics were of bright colours, and she loved that about them. She started with a crimson top which looked as though it might reach her mid thighs. It was short-sleeved and made of material which seemed to stretch, though she could not imagine that would prove necessary. The garment looked big enough to swamp her. Next she picked up a pair of leggings, which were made of a heavier fabric than the top. These were a dark blue in colour, and had patches stitched onto the front and the back. A pair of dark grey knitted bootees completed the set. It did not seem like much, and the prospect of a respectable married woman going out in public wearing just a pair of leggings struck her as positively indecent. She must attempt to reason with Gerard—or Ged—however confused he might be.

  "I'll lend you a jacket, too, when it's time to go out, and some shoes." Her husband marched back into the room, this time carrying a flat, square box. He deposited that on the bed in front of her and flung back the lid. Jane's taste buds were at once assailed by the most delectable aromas emanating from within. She leaned forward to look.

  "What manner of sustenance is that?"

  "It's called pizza. Cheese and tomato on a sort of bread base. It's good to eat, or so I'm told. Help yourself."

  "Might I have a knife, or..."

  "Just grab a slice and eat it with your fingers." He pulled a triangular piece of the confection free and picked it up out of the box. He held it towards her. "Open your mouth and take a bite."

  It smelled divine. Jane took no further persuading. The taste when it exploded on her tongue was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Not even the rich fare offered in the household of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester had come close to this. She chewed, her eyes closing as she appreciated the delicious flavours.

  "Here, you take it."

  Jane opened her eyes to see her husband still holding the slice of delicious fare. She took it from him and helped herself to another mouthful. It was every bit as good as the first and in three more gulps the whole piece was gone.

  "I'm guessing you like that?"

  Jane nodded. "May I have more of it, my lord."

  "Only if you stop it with the 'my lord'. I'm Ged these days."

  "Ged, " she repeated. It sounded quite nice, actually, as was the fare he had brought for her. She extricated a second slice from the box. "Are you not sharing this, my lor—Ged?"

  "No, I'm fine. I'll go fix you a cup of tea, then, when you've finished eating, I'll show you how the shower works."

  *****

  The world seemed a far less threatening place when viewed with a full stomach. Such was Jane's conclusion as she leaned back against the pillows having consumed her fourth slice of this thing called pizza. She was less convinced about the drink her husband called tea, preferring a glass of water which sparkled like none she had ever seen in her life. This was not the foul, brackish sludge she was accustomed to, the stuff they drew up in buckets from the well in the Roseworth courtyard. Ged had poured the water from a small, colourless bottle with a bright blue top, and left the remainder on the table beside her bed. The bottle had a look of glass about it, but was much lighter in weight, and would bend if she pressed it with her fingers, then spring back into its former shape. It was a truly wondrous substance, and she began to wonder if it were perhaps she who had lost her grip on reality rather than her husband.

  The shower was little short of heaven. Ged led her back into the small room adjoining her own, the place she had inadvertently ended up when she attempted to flee. He pointed out an item he called the toilet. This apparently served the same purpose as the garde robe she was accustomed to, but by pressing a metal button on the top a stream of water would swill away anything left in the bowl. He showed her how to run water from pipes on top of a porcelain basin just by twisting the tops. One of these outlets could even produce warm water, and Ged assured her she was welcome to use as much of it as she pleased. He pressed another button, this time on a wall, and warm water erupted in a steaming waterfall from above her. Her husband urged her to remove the red top she had pulled over her head and loosen her hair from its plait, then he instructed her to step under the streaming jets.

  She stayed there for almost an hour. Ged had pulled a seat down to cover the toilet and he sat on that as she cavorted under the hot water. She was self-conscious at first to be nude in front of him, but her initial shyness soon wore off. He was her husband, after all, and she knew from long years of experience that hers was not a body which held any real allure for him. He was not interested in her, he preferred the Betsy's of this world.

  Despite the mysterious spate of madness which must have assailed him earlier, Ged was patient now, and kind. Perhaps the events of earlier had been some sort of episode, but if that was over, the crisis passed, perhaps her husband was back to his old self. Well, almost. He showed her how to rub soap into her hair, then rinse it off. He produced some gorgeous lotion to soften the tangles and aided her in combing it out, then he helped her to rinse it all again. He smiled as she lathered some different soap onto her arms and legs, and he offered to wash her back for her. She accepted his ministrations, enjoying the gentle pressure of his fingers on her shoulder blades.

  How odd, she mused as he kneaded tension from her spine. She was well accustomed to the way his cock felt inside her tight passage, but she had never experienced this level of intimacy from him before.

  Her husband might be mad as a bucket of frogs, or perhaps she was, and she would never become reconciled to those fangs, but without doubt she preferred this version of the man.

  *****

  "May I ask you something, Gerard? Ged?" Jane regarded her husband from her seat at the table in the part of this dwelling he called the kitchen. It bore no resemblance at all to the dark and smoky kitchens at Roseworth. This space was light and airy, and she was starting to appreciate that most of the items lined up on the shelf at one end had specific functions. The hot water pot was called the kettle, and it worked without a fire beneath it. The metal box with the glass front was a type of oven which could cook without heat, and another, larger metal chest could wash dirty pots. There were more items, and Ged promised to demonstrate all of them in time.

  He slanted a glance at her. "Of course, though I'm not sure I'll be able to answer."

  Jane was far from certain that she would find the words to ask what she needed to know, but her head was whirling and she felt compelled to articulate at least some of her confusion.

  "You said the year now is twenty thirteen. Was that correct?"

  "Yes." His expression was serious. On this matter he seemed unwilling to bend.

  "And, before you found me beside the lake, am I to understand that we had not spoken or seen each other for over five hundred years?"

  "Yes, that's right."

  "But I remember it all as though it was just yesterday. It was just yesterday."

  "I know. I think."

  "So, are you saying we have somehow been catapulted forward through time, across several centuries?"

  "I'm not sure what's happened, to be honest. Or even if you truly are my wife from all those centuries ago."

  "Then, why did you help me? Why provide me with food, shelter?"

  "Until I do know, one way or the other, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I know that you believe yourself to be Jane
, so for now I'll accept that."

  "How do you know?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "How do you know what I believe?"

  "I just do."

  "But—"

  "Jane, I just do. Leave it."

  "Very well. You have told me what time this is, but not the place. Where are we?"

  "There's a window in your room with a view to the outside. Did you not recognise the scenery surrounding Roseworth?"

  "I am not sure. It was familiar, but..."

  "We're at Roseworth."

  "This is not Roseworth. Where are the servants, the men-at-arms? Where are the halls and chambers, your solar, my sewing room? This," she gestured surround her, "this place full of wizardry and magical toys, this is not our home."

  "It's my home, and it is Roseworth."

  "You are lying to me." Panic began to rise, fueled by fear and utter helplessness. Ged had been so kind earlier, but now he was seeking to mislead her and that could not bode well. "I want to go home, now. You cannot force me to remain here. I demand that you release me at once."

  Ged shrugged and his lip quirked in an expression she recognised. It was his exasperated look, the one he turned on her whenever he had better things to concern himself with. He raised one eyebrow as he settled his familiar, sardonic gaze on her.

  "Honey, I never asked you here and I sure as hell don't intend to force you to stay. You're welcome to just shoot back through whatever worm hole you used to get here. Don't let me hold you up."

  Jane surged to her feet, stung by his words. "How dare you? I am no worm and I do not deserve your insults, my lord."

  "What? No, I didn't mean—"

  "I shall find my own way home, without your assistance."

  Clad in the red garment and the leggings she had donned after leaving the shower, Jane rushed past her husband to seize the door handle. This time she managed to select the correct exit although she half expected the door to become mysteriously locked as soon as her hand touched it. Instead, she found herself outside in the bright daylight, the familiar golden stone of the Roseworth solid walls at her back. She was barefoot, and the ground was frigid beneath her toes, but she broke into a run. She recognised the perimeter wall of the great hall, and knew that just around the corner lay the bakehouse, the laundry and the grain store. There would be servants there, people to aid her, if she could only reach them.

  "Jane, wait!" The voice behind her spurred her to greater efforts. Her tormentor was giving chase, despite his dismissive words of just a minute ago.

  She rounded the corner at a sprint, then skidded to a halt. She gaped, horrified, disbelieving, at the scene of utter desolation before her. The outbuildings were gone, the castle grounds deserted. Low stone walls traced the outlines of where the buildings used to stand, but now the stone stumps which remained were set among short, damp grass not the cobbled bailey she knew should be here. She spun around, seeking out the stables which should be to her rear, the cosy home where Cloud would be waiting for her, demanding an apple. But she encountered only a structure she did not recognise. A long, low building, constructed of small, even-shaped red stones stood about a dozen yards away, its huge door gaping open. Within, she could see strange, metallic shapes, though of a manner and function she could not start to fathom.

  "Jane, wait for me." She startled at the sound of her husband's footsteps, running, gaining on her. Jane succumbed to the sheer, mind-numbing panic which had threatened to engulf her since the moment she first opened her eyes as she lay shivering beside the lake. She ran for all she was worth across the slippery grass.

  Barefoot, she still managed to cover the best part of a hundred yards before she lost her footing to land face down in the frosty meadow. She scrambled to her knees, and glanced back to see if her husband was gaining on her.

  He was. Gerard was just thirty yards away. He had donned additional clothing, and now wore a waist-length, long-sleeved tunic with a hood which he had pulled over his head. Worse, he wore a mask of some description. As he got closer she could see he wore eyeglasses, but of a dark colour, and the lenses extended around the sides of his eyes.

  "Leave me alone. You said I was free to go." She started to back away, her hand outstretched as though to ward him off.

  "Jane, wait. Listen to me."

  "No, I—" She had been about to hurl more denials at him, scream for assistance even, despite the fact that she could see this place to be deserted. As she gazed back at him the words died in her throat as Jane took in the wider scene at his rear. Roseworth was gone. The mighty castle stood in ruins, and the remaining structure was reduced to just a third of its former height. The north tower still stood, though with gaping holes in the stonework, and the remains of the castle kitchens were just visible to the right. She beheld a vista of utter destruction.

  Had they been attacked? Had Roseworth fallen to vicious invaders from the north, been sacked and razed to the ground? What had become of the inhabitants? Her mother? Their serfs and bonds people? What of the nearby village, the peasants who tended the land?

  "How? Where...?" She fell to her knees, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks. "By the Blessed Virgin, what has happened?"

  Jane buried her face in her hands and started to rock to and fro. Her shock was absolute, her despair total. Her life was gone. Her home, the people she knew and loved, everyone who cared about her, lost in the face of some disaster she could not even start to comprehend. She stiffened as she was enfolded in strong arms, an embrace which steadied and grounded her and terrified her right down to the depths of her very soul.

  "Sweet Mother of God, help us," she muttered. "May the saints and the Holy Mother preserve us, now, in our hour of need..."

  "Ssh, Janey, hush now. I have you." The voice was familiar, warmer than she could ever recall before, but he crooned nonsense. "Hush, it's all right. You're fine, everything's going to be okay. I'll take care of you. There's no need to be afraid."

  She had known he was mad, but this was beyond comprehension. Could he not see the devastation surrounding them?

  Jane's sobs increased, her body shaking as her grief and confusion poured forth. She was lost, everything was lost, gone in the blink of an eye.

  She did not resist when Ged stood, lifting her in his arms, and started to carry her back across the grass in the direction of the structure she had fled just a few moments ago. She offered no protest when he carried her back up the stairs to the small room where she had slept earlier, nor even when he hauled back the cover and laid her in the cushioned warmth.

  Neither did she lift her voice to dissent when he climbed into the bed alongside her and enfolded her in his arms again, pressing her wet cheek to his chest.

  "Rest now, Janey. You've had a shock, I know, but I'll take care of you. When you wake up, we'll talk."

  Jane could not start to imagine how words might serve to mend even the smallest detail of this catastrophe, but she was well past the point where she might summon an argument. Defeated, she nestled into the firm, warm body next to her, and she closed her eyes.

  Chapter Six

  What was he to say to her? Ged had promised this woman who was convinced she was his bride of five centuries past that they would talk. In truth, he was at a loss.

  Her gentle breathing convinced him she was sleeping so he eased himself from the bed and made his way downstairs. It was dusk outside, the January afternoon fading fast though it was not much after four o'clock. His brief excursion outdoors in daylight had taken its toll, but he was recovering now and almost back to normal, though his eyes were smarting still. It would pass.

  Ged fired up his laptop and Googled time travel. Apart from something predictably pretentious on Wikipedia and some rather stunning photographs of outer space he found nothing of use. In fairness, this meant little. Ged knew that if he were to Google vampires he'd find a similar dearth of reliable material. He allowed himself a sardonic chuckle. Shit, he should be the last one to quibble about the existenc
e of paranormal entities.

  But still, he'd walked this planet now for something in excess of five hundred years. If time travel could happen, if there had been other instances, surely he'd have come across the phenomenon before now. Or if not he, then another of his kind. He pulled out his mobile phone and selected the number he needed from his speed dial. The call was picked up before the second ring.

  "Hey, man, how are you liking your little bit of England?" The cheerful voice boomed from the phone. "Is it cold and wet enough for you?"

  Ged grinned to himself. Although his lawyer had lived in the US for the last two centuries, James originated from the Scottish Highlands and had always hated the rain. "Hi. Yes, the weather's great, just as I like it."

  "So, you're not calling to ask me to acquire some more real estate for you then?"

  "No, not this time. Actually, it was Serena I was hoping to talk to. Is she about?"

  "Hey, you'd better not be thinking of seducing my wife. I've told you before, man, keep your hands off. I wouldn't want to have to hurt you."

  "If I thought she'd look twice at me I'd give you a run for your money, but the woman's convinced you're some sort of sex god. Pathetic really. Have you thought about making her an appointment with an optician?"

  "My girl sees fine." There was a pause, then, "Hey honey, the sassenach is on the phone, asking for you."

  There was a muttered exchange which Ged couldn't catch, then a female voice came on the line. "Ged? Is everything all right?"

  He drew in a long breath. "Yes. No. In truth, I have no fucking idea."

  "I see. You'd better tell me then."

  Serena was the most ancient vampire in Ged's acquaintance. Born on the Trojan peninsula in the first century A.D., she had been turned when the emperor Nero still ruled Rome. She had somehow managed to survive for over a millennium virtually alone in the world, before meeting others of their kind. Her powers were off the scale, honed and built over the centuries as was the case with all vampires who managed to survive their early, formative years, but later enhanced by the aeons of detailed study to which she had devoted herself.