Magnus_A Time Travel Romance

by Joanna Bell

  Lord Eldred looked at me, and then behind me, at Magnus. "As it must be, Hringwyn. Lock her in the captive's hut and hang him before sundown – and then put his head on display at the main gate. If his countrymen come looking for him –"

  "No!" I screeched, panicked, my heart beating hard and fast in my chest. Surely Lord Eldred didn't mean it? Just like that? Without even giving Magnus or I a chance to plead our case? "NO! Please! We didn't do anything wrong! We –"

  Eldred took a step towards me, shaking his head. "Quiet down, girl – surely you can't be surprised that a captured Northman will be hung? Do you know what they do to us, when they come upon one of us alone in the woods? Do you know what they would do to a girl like yourself, if they found her wandering by herself? Your Northman – for he is not your husband, that I can see – is surely responsible for more defiled girls and murdered boys than any of my men here."

  And then he turned, without waiting for or expecting me to respond, and gestured to Hringwyn. "Don't wait until evening – do it now, get it over with."

  He began to walk away. I jerked away from the men who were still holding me tight, and twisted my body to kick out at them. "NO!" I screamed again at Lord Eldred's back. "NO! He didn't kill anyone! He SAVED one of you! He saved a child! He's alone because his own people tried to kill him for it! They tried to –"

  Another blow glanced off my already-bloodied cheek and my body sagged forwards as I almost lost consciousness.

  "No," I mumbled, a few seconds later. "No, please, no, no. He saved a child. A little boy. I saw it. I saw –"

  Another blow, hard enough to knock the rest of my words out of my mouth, to be replaced with a low moan of pain. I watched, blinking and disoriented with being hit, as Magnus was dragged past me. His body was limp – they must have hit him on the head and knocked him out – and his leather-clad feet dragged along the ground behind him. I watched, my stomach churning with horror, as someone handed a long rope to Hringwyn and he threw it over the branch of a tree.

  "He saved one of you!" I moaned, my words barely understandable by then because my cheek was so swollen. "He saved a child! I saw him –"

  And then, as three men struggled to hold Magnus upright enough for Hringwyn to begin looping the rope over his head, a man stepped forward. He was slightly built, and a mass of gray hair hung in his eyes. But he looked at Magnus for a few seconds and then turned to Hringwyn.

  "It's true," said. " I see now that it's him – this Northman saved my boy from his own people."

  "What!?" Hringwyn shouted, disbelieving. "When – Taber, what do you speak of?! This man, you say? This man saved your boy?"

  Lord Eldred, hearing the commotion, returned. "What's all this?" He asked. "What did I hear? Does this man defend the Northman?"

  Taber bowed his head low, but his voice was clear. "Yes," he replied. "The Northmen took the little hamlet just north of here, where I was visiting my sister to bring her some tallow. One of their party took little Eadward and swung their sword to take off his head – this man stopped it. He blocked the blow with his own blade. I swear it my lord, I saw it with my own eyes. In truth I thought they'd killed him for it – they chased him into the woods after it happened and –"

  "And is the boy – Eadward – alright?"

  "He's had a fright, Lord, but he's not hurt. This was the man who saved him – I swear it."

  Lord Eldred stood looking at Hringwyn and the other men for a few seconds, as they waited for his instructions. I stared at Magnus, willing him to wake up, to speak, to confirm that yes, he had saved the child. He did not wake up.

  But Eldred, after a few minutes contemplation, simply nodded his head at Hringwyn. "Untie him. Bring him to the healers to treat the wound to his head. When he is fit to speak I'll talk to him myself. And let the girl go with him."

  "But –" Hringwyn started, only to shut up immediately when one of the men at the lord's side gave him a stern shake of the head.

  "Do it," Eldred said. "Now. And if I hear that any of you has so much as laid a finger on the girl, it'll be your own heads. Do you understand?"

  A few minutes later I found myself in one of the little huts inside the village walls with Magnus, still unconscious, lying between myself and an older woman who was missing most of her teeth.

  "They've taken his senses," she observed, running her bony fingers over his brow and then parting his hair to look for the source of the blood that ran slowly down his forehead.

  "Will he be OK?" I asked, even though it was difficult for me to believe that this wizened old woman in a hut made of straw and mud could have anything truly useful to say on the topic of Magnus' wellbeing. "Will he wake up soon?"

  The woman reached for a small wooden pot of a pale green, waxy-looking substance that, when she passed it close to me, seemed to smell herbal. And then she began to dot the substance on the wound that cut about three inches across Magnus' scalp.

  "Come here," she gestured, when she was done. "We'll put some on your cheek, too. It's bruised – the two of you look strong enough but your wounds might still fester."

  "Oooh," I said, shrinking away when she touched my face and a sharp pain jolted through my head.

  "You can do it yourself," she offered, "if that would be easier for you. My name is Wenda, if you would like to know what to call me. And you are –?"

  "I am Heather," I replied. "And he is Magnus."

  "Eltha?"

  "Heather."

  She said my name back to me a second time, still mispronouncing it, and I could tell it was unfamiliar to her. And then she handed me the little pot of salve, and I brought it to my nose to smell. It was smelled vegetal, and was stirred through with flecks of green, but there was something else underneath it – something almost meaty. Wenda saw me wrinkle my nose.

  "It is tallow mixed with healing herbs and leaves. Do you not have such things where you come from?"

  I thought of the antibiotic ointment my mother used to slather on my skinned knees when I was a little girl. "We have something similar," I replied. "But I don't think it's made from – what did you say? Tallow?"

  "Tallow, yes – we butchered an old sheep last week, and after the carcass was boiled I was given a –"

  "After the carcass was boiled?" I exclaimed, disgusted. What was I putting on myself?

  Wenda eyed me the way Magnus had done when I was revolted by the dead rabbits. "Yes, after the carcass was boiled – how else are we to get the fat from it, girl? Surely you know how valuable the fat of an animal is?"

  I set the salve down on a rickety wooden table that was strewn with other, similar containers and clay vials, like something out of a children's story about a friendly witch. Then I smiled at Wenda and tried to suppress my disgust over almost having rubbed boiled sheep fat all over my cheek.

  "They say your man saved one of our little ones," she said to me, as I glanced worriedly down at Magnus, who still had not stirred. "Is it so?"

  I nodded, eager to let as many villagers as I could know of Magnus' good deed. "Yes, he did. And then his own brother and father tried to kill him for it. When your men found us that's what we were doing – running from the Northmen."

  Wenda chuckled. "I heard you were doing more than that."

  "That's true," I smiled, embarrassed. "But we weren't –"

  Before I could finish my sentence, Magnus suddenly groaned and brought one of his hands to his head. At once, I knelt beside him.

  "Don't get up," I said, taking his hand in my own. "You're safe. You're with the healer."

  I didn't really know if he was safe, but I did know, if he saw fit to get to his feet, that the sight of a Northman stumbling around their village was not likely to be well-received by the Angles.

  "Mmm – what, girl? Heather? What are – where –"

  And then suddenly his eyes flew open as he seemed to remember what had happened, and he sat up very quickly and looked around for his sword.

  "No," I urged, and Wenda came forward to he
lp me prevent him from standing up. "No, Magnus, we're fine here. Someone told the lord about the boy you saved, and he said to take you to the healing hut – which is where you are now – and that he would speak to you later. Just – please, lie down. Your head is bleeding."

  Magnus looked at me, and then at Wenda. "Are you hurt?" He asked me, running his eyes over my body, and the tunic the Angles had given me to cover myself. "Did they – are you – your face! Heather, your –"

  "I'm fine," I told him, sensing that he was more likely to do something impulsive if he thought I had been injured than over anything that had been done to him alone. "I'm fine. You just need to –"

  "Here," Wenda cut in, passing a small clay cup of thick, dark liquid to Magnus. "Drink this, it will help to awaken your senses again."

  But before he could take it I grabbed her wrist and took it out of her hand. "Wait," I said, smiling so she hopefully wouldn't think I was being rude or ungrateful. "Just – wait. Sometimes he – uh, sometimes he gets sick from, uh, from – what's in this anyway? What is this?"

  "It's pepper-root and milk," Wenda told me. "The root is fresh-ground, girl – it will help him wake up."

  I didn't have any idea what pepper-root was, and as it turned out it didn't matter what I thought because Magnus took the cup from my hands and downed it quickly. And then both he and Wenda chuckled at me as I stared at him, waiting to see if anything horrible was going to happen.

  "I'm a healer," Wenda told me, shaking her head like she had never met anyone so silly as me. "Why do you look at him as if the waking tonic is going to kill him?"

  "She's a foreigner," Magnus told her, pushing himself up to sitting again and exploring his head-wound with his fingertips. "She has some strange ideas."

  "Don't touch that!" I squeaked, noticing how dirty his fingers were and, even lacking medical training of any kind, understanding that you didn't want dirt anywhere near an open wound. "I mean – Magnus, please, it's probably best to leave the wound alone."

  "She seems to have a bit of the healer's instinct inside her," Wenda commented. "She's right, you should not bother the wound. Let it alone, so it can close up on its own."

  Magnus took his hand away from his head. And then he began to run it through the dirt to his left, and then his right. I realized what he was doing before he said anything.

  "They took it," I told him. "Your sword – they took it. They say the lord wants to speak to you when you wake up, to ask about the child you saved in the woods."

  "Ah the child," Magnus said, nodding. "Is that why I wake in this dwelling and not in the Great Hall of the next life? Have they let me live because of the boy?"

  "Yes," I replied, reaching down to caress his cheek. "Yes, the boy's father spoke up for you and the lord said to take you to see the healer."

  "I'm surprised the Angles have it in them to be reasonable," he commented. "They're usually no better than beasts when it comes to working out the right –"

  "Magnus!" I broke in, eying Wenda. "We aren't alone!"

  But Wenda did not look offended. She looked resigned. She gave me a little smile and a shrug. "Men are all the same," she commented in amused tones. "Always so convinced their enemies are beasts and demons. What would they have to do, girl, if they did not fight each other all the time over their imagined differences?"

  I looked at Magnus to see how he was taking Wenda's words, but he was fumbling with one of his leather boots, not listening to either of us.

  We remained in the healer's hut until nightfall, and the Angles placed two guards at the door to make sure we did not try to leave. Magnus was sleepy, but then unable to sleep when he tried – and I was worried he was going to be reckless with the Angle lord when the time came.

  And come it did, after the smell of cooking food had filled our nostrils and made our mouths water and our empty bellies rumble. A boy came to the healer's hut and led us to the one building inside the village walls that was made of stone.

  "Don't be angry with them," I whispered, before we were led inside. "Magnus, they were going to kill you. When you were passed out – they almost had the rope around your neck! We have to get out of here, OK? Please don't give them another reason to murder you!"

  In the lord's hall, a great fire roared at one end of a large, rectangular room, with a table at the other end, placed on an area of the floor that had been raised up a few inches higher than the rest. Behind that table sat Lord Eldred, and on either side stood guards dressed in leather armor and holding swords. More tables were set along either wall in the main, slightly lower section, and a few people – some women but mostly men – sat at them. No one at the lower tables wore armor or carried a weapon – not any I could see. I was thankful of the fire because summer or not I'd already noticed that the evenings tended to cool down quite a bit.

  "Ah!" Lord Eldred called from the opposite end of the hall from where we stood. "The Northman who saved an Angle child – come forward."

  Magnus and I walked the length of the great room, feeling the gazes of the villagers following us as we did so. And when we were at the part where we needed to step up, and I lifted my foot, I felt a hand suddenly grab my wrist and pull me back.

  "You've found yourself a bold woman," the lord addressed Magnus. "Look how she walks at your side, and moves to step in front of me even before you have led her."

  Was I not supposed to step up? No one had told me that. I looked at Magnus, and then at the lord.

  "Wait there," Lord Eldred instructed me. No further explanation was given – and besides myself, it didn't seem anyone else needed it. All eyes were now on Magnus, who took his place before the lord in the tunic he had been given to wear, which was too small for him.

  "One of my men is almost as big as you, " the lord said. "Hringwyn, have one of Swean's tunics brought for the Northman – what we've given him looks as if it were made for a child."

  I watched as Hringwyn, who was standing in the shadows behind Lord Eldred, nodded to another man, who scurried almost silently out of the room upon being given the signal.

  Although the Angle lord was treating Magnus with respect – and Magnus himself was standing quietly, not giving anyone reason to fear him – there was a tension in the room, and it was focused on the Northman. The people looked at him the way you might look at a dog who had bitten you once before, but who now seemed calm. There was an air of anticipation, an expectation I could see in the way some of the people at the lower tables were leaning forward with looks of eagerness on their faces.

  What did they think was going to happen? Magnus did not have his sword, and the lord's men each had theirs. Did people think he was going to go berserk, running around the room and attacking people with his bare hands?

  As it turned out, they did. When the old man with the straggly gray hair was brought in, and encouraged to tell the story of how Magnus had saved his son from the sword of his own brother – a brother who had then tried to hunt him down and kill him for the betrayal – the looks on the faces around me were profoundly skeptical.

  "Taber is confused!" A voice finally called out, when the lord began to question him on the details. "Northmen kill our children, Lord Eldred! They don't save them! They tie them to great spits and roast them over the fire for –"

  "For supper!" Another voice rang out.

  "He can't be trusted!"

  "Hang him!"

  Lord Eldred let the exhortations to variously hang, burn, behead and drown Magnus continue for longer than I thought appropriate, but he did eventually lift both his hands and gesture to his people to settle down. And then he turned back to Taber.

  "Where is he, then? Your boy – where is he?"

  "He's with his mother, my lord. Back at our –"

  "Bring him to me! I should like to hear the little one's story myself."

  Taber balked slightly, even as he tried to hide it. "He's in his bed, my lord. No small thing to his poor mother, who spent the past night soothing him when he awoke screaming,
begging for –"

  "He's young, Taber," the lord replied, not letting the older man finish. "He'll have forgotten all about it by the time the winter snow melts. Bring him to me now, I wish to hear what he has to say."

  Not longer than ten minutes later Taber returned with a small child trailing behind him.

  "Come!" Lord Eldred shouted impatiently. "Come, child! Awake! You address your lord now."

  Taber leaned down and whispered something into the boy's ear. And then we listened, all of us in the room, as the child told the story of being snatched up by Asger and having a sword held to his neck. When he told the part about Magnus suddenly shoving his sword between Asger's and the boy's own neck, the lord stopped him and asked him to look at Magnus.

  "Is this the man who saved you, boy? Look closely – is this his face?"

  There was no hesitation. The child nodded quickly, and looked slightly perplexed at being asked to confirm something that to him was obviously true.

  "Are you sure of it child?" Eldred asked again. "This man is from the North. And you know what Northmen do to our people, don't you?"

  "They kill us," came the small-voiced reply. "They kill us and burn our houses and steal our grain."

  "Yes, child, that they do. And worse than that, still! So you must be very careful to tell the truth – you must be sure – that this is the man who saved you. For if you get it wrong there's no telling what destruction he will do to our estate – all because you couldn't remember."

  Having been informed that he would basically be responsible for Magnus destroying their whole estate if he got it wrong, the boy turned and looked at him one more time and I could feel the other people in the room waiting – hoping, even – that he was going to change his mind.

  But he didn't. He simply turned back to the lord and nodded that, yes, Magnus was the man who had saved him.

  "Right," Lord Eldred announced, accepting it as truth now. "Take your boy back to his mother, Taber. Mercawb, give him a small sack of grain so the child may eat fresh bread until the new moon."