The Time Travelling Taxman Series Box Set

by Rachel Ford

  The outlaw pulled Alfred into a bear hug. “My God, I thought you were done for.”

  “Me too,” the taxman said, trying to keep the recrimination out of his tone.

  “We would have come for you, of course. But with all the people around…” He shrugged, as if the point was self-evident.

  Alfred felt a crease forming between his eyebrows, and he worked to force it off his features. “Of course.”

  “But I’m glad you escaped.” Robert frowned too now. “But how did you get away?”

  “Easy,” Nance answered. “We denied everything about knowing you.”

  “Huh.” He considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Clever. Very clever, Miss Nancy.” Chortling, he waved a finger at Alfred, “It won’t do to match wits with that one, my friend.”

  “No,” the taxman agreed. “It doesn’t.”

  “Well, we are glad to have you back. It’s a shame about the mission. We could have used the supplies.”

  Here, Nancy turned her eyes to Gwen. “Especially that poor boy of yours.”

  The other woman glanced up, and Alfred saw the drawn look in her eyes, the haggard look in her features. Her eyes welled at the words, and she nodded mutely.

  Robert, meanwhile, sighed. “Damned shame. Still, we did the best we could. We all knew it was a long shot.”

  “You know,” Justin put in, “someone was shot. When you guys hit the hospital: one of the townsmen took an arrow.”

  The outlaw nodded. “I’d heard something of that. Unfortunate, of course. But that’s the risk of collaborating with tyrants. You might wind up in the crossfire.”

  “Only one side was shooting,” Nancy pointed out. “The other built a hospital and is taking care of injured men and women.” Now, with another glance at Gwen, she added, “And sick kids.”

  Robert surveyed her for a moment, then turned a grin back to Alfred. “She’s feisty, alright.” The taxman could all but see the smoke rising from Nance’s ears. “Well, you’re just in time for food. Let’s eat, and you can tell us about the interrogation. Gwen, get something for our guests, will you?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Alfred talked until Robert was satisfied – or, more aptly, bored. Once the outlaw learned, with a palpable degree of disappointment, that no torture had been involved, he wasn’t terribly interested in the interrogation.

  “Well,” he said, interrupting after a space, “after they took you, and we thought you were done for, we started working on a plan to avenge you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I mean, the vengeance part isn’t necessary anymore – and that’s great. Now you can help us.”

  “Of course. But, uh, help with what?”

  Robert gnawed on the drumstick he’d been eating for a moment, then turned his focus back to the discussion. “We’re going to hit the tyrant where it hurts most.”

  “The solar plexus?” Freddo wondered.

  “No. The pocketbook.”

  “Oh.”

  “There’ll be a tax collector passing through these parts tomorrow, on his way from robbing folks in other areas of the shire. He’ll have his blood money in tow.”

  “Bloody Judas Iscariot,” Allan Clare spat out.

  “Aye, with the thirty pieces of silver it took to get him to sell his fellow countrymen out.”

  Robert grinned. “Well, we’ll relieve him of those thirty pieces. And everything else.”

  “And use him for target practice after,” John Naylor put in.

  “Target practice?” Justin frowned. “You mean, you’re going to murder the man?”

  “Murder? He’s a tax collector.”

  “Which is another way to say a thief,” William Gamwell put in.

  “But you can’t kill a man over gold,” Alfred protested. “That’s murder.”

  “Not if he’s a tax collector.”

  “Look,” Nancy said, “you guys aren’t killers. I mean, you haven’t crossed that line, right?”

  “No,” Robert acknowledged. “Not yet.”

  “Exactly. You don’t want to do that. That-that’s the kind of line that, once you cross it, there’s no coming back.”

  Allan snorted. “The line is just a construct.”

  Nancy stared blankly at him. “Of course it is. I’m not suggesting there’s a physical line there, Allan.”

  “It’s a point of no return,” Alfred put in. “Morally. Once you start killing, there’s no redemption, there’s no undoing that. You’ve already got blood on your hands.”

  “God, now you sound like the damned friar,” Robert sighed.

  “Good. Someone around here obviously needs to.”

  “But is that really the most important thing on your agenda right now?” Freddo mused, his forehead creased into a frown. “I mean, what about Richard?”

  Robert blinked. “My boy?”

  “Exactly. Shouldn’t we…well, shouldn’t getting him the medicine he needs be a bigger priority than robbing the tax collector?”

  The outlaw sighed. “We tried that already. It didn’t work. The tyrant has too many men.” He shrugged. “But, if we get the gold, maybe then we can find an apothecary who will deal with us. And not just for Rick. For all of us, for the medicine we all need.”

  A murmur of assent rose from the group. “You mean,” Nancy asked nonchalantly, “One-Eyed Theodore’s elixir?”

  Robert blinked. “Old Ted? You know him?”

  “No. It’s something Lord Rickman asked us about. During interrogation.”

  The outlaw scowled. “Damned tyrant.”

  “So what is this elixir?” Alfred wondered.

  “Just medicine.”

  “We all need it,” William put in.

  “Cures my gout,” John added.

  “And my insomnia.”

  “I need it for my back,” Robert confided. Then, he lowered his tone. “When we get the gold, we’re going to make a run to Westmorland. After the tyrant took over, that’s where One-Eyes had to go. He wasn’t welcome in the shire of Cumberland anymore.”

  “But he’s still selling his elixir?”

  Robert’s eyebrows twitched. “You better believe it, Miss Nancy.”

  “The men of this shire wouldn’t be able to function without his elixirs,” John put in. “Only thing that gets me through the day, somedays.”

  “And…you don’t think…maybe they’re addictive?” Justin ventured. “Maybe Lord-what’s-his-face has a point?”

  “Good God Almighty,” William exclaimed. “First tax collectors, and now tyrants? You people are a funny lot with who you choose to defend.”

  “All I’m saying is, have you tried not using it?”

  “Worst two days of my life,” Robert shook his head darkly.

  “Two days?” Nancy frowned. “It’ll take longer than that to break an addiction. And they’ve got a cure, don’t they?”

  “I wouldn’t touch that poison they proffer if you paid me,” someone put in. “Not for a hundred pounds.”

  “It’s not an addiction,” William hissed. “That’s the lie the shire’s cabal of apothecaries and leeches put out. They just want to squash competition.”

  “They’re afraid of the free market,” Robert declared sagely.

  “Maybe they’re afraid of having a shire full of drug addicts,” Justin suggested, to the disapprobation of his listeners. “I mean, just a thought.”

  “We’re not addicts,” William sniffed.

  “Then prove it. Give it up,” Freddo challenged.

  “You’re not addicted to air, Mister Favero,” John countered. “But you wouldn’t give it up, either.”

  “Wow,” Alfred blinked. “That’s exactly the kind of thing an addict would say.”

  “That,” Robert frowned, “is the kind of thing a collaborator would say.”

  “Look,” Nancy said, “we’re just saying, maybe Richard’s life is more important than this elixir thing.”

  Now, the leader of the outlaws turned his frown to Nan
cy. “What kind of man do you think I am, Miss Nancy? You think I would tend to my own ailments without thinking of my son?” He seemed genuinely offended, and Alfred wondered if there was some second hare-brained scheme afoot, that he’d not yet revealed. “When we get the gold, I’ll purchase enough elixir for the boy as well.”

  Gamwell and a few others of the men sounded their approval. Nancy gaped at him. “You mean…you’re going to treat his illness with a pain killer?”

  “It’s more than a pain killer. It’s practically magic,” Allan nodded. “I told you, it cures my insomnia.”

  “It’ll have the boy right as rain in no time,” Robert said, his tones confident.

  Nancy threw a glance at Gwen, whose forehead was creased into deep chasms. “And if it doesn’t?”

  The outlaw brushed the question aside with an, “It will.” But Alfred knew it hadn’t been meant for him. It had been meant for the mother, who sat wringing her hands in her lap. It had been meant for Gwen.

  And, a few hours later, they began to see that the words had hit their mark.

  The first indication was Robert’s return. He’d gone to talk to Gwen, but when he came back, he stomped over to his customary spot, a mug of beer in hand and a scowl plastered on his features.

  The rest of the band was noisome and jovial. But he was quiet throughout the evening, lost to whatever morose thoughts were coursing through his mind.

  They were a mystery to Alfred. But Nancy had a little more insight. “I talked to her,” she confided that night, after they’d turned in. “To Gwen, I mean. I told her about the hospital. She’s worried about giving Richard that elixir. She sees what it does to Robert and the other men. She still says they need it, to manage his back pain and all that.” She shook her head. “But she knows, Alfred. I can tell she knows. She’ll stand by her man. But she doesn’t want that for her boy.”

  “You think she said something to him, then?”

  Nancy nodded. “She did. And it did not go well.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, he was stomping around like an angry arsehole earlier. But she was crying. She didn’t tell me exactly what he said, but he didn’t listen. He got mad.”

  The taxman sighed. “I don’t know, Nance. I know you think we can get through to them. But those guys are addicts, and they think like addicts. Their focus is on the elixir. That’s it.”

  “The wives aren’t, though.”

  “No, but they’ve been enabling them all this time, babe. Are they even going to know how to break the cycle?”

  Nancy considered for a moment, and then nodded. “When it comes to their kids, I think they will, Alfred.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She was right. The next morning, the camp rose to distressing news. At least, it distressed the outlaws. Nancy discreetly flashed Alfred a wicked grin of satisfaction when she heard.

  Gwen Whod had left, with young Richard and all the rest of her children. They’d disappeared in the middle of the night, while Robert snored away in an elixir-induced haze. She’d left a note, too.

  Dearest Robert,

  I’m sorry it has come to this. But you have lost sight of who you are. You have lost yourself to this fight, and to that damned elixir.

  You’ve lost sight of everything: of your duty to the shire. Of me and our marriage. And of our children.

  You may have forgotten that you are a husband and a father. But I must act as a mother, even if that means forgetting that I am a wife.

  I must save Rick’s life. And if that means going to the public hospital, then I will swallow my pride and do it.

  I love you, Robert. I hope you find your way back to us. But I can’t let your addiction kill our son.

  Your Guinevere

  Robert varied between blustering rage and falling tears. The tyrant had got to Gwen, he’d rale one moment. “Gwen, my poor Gwen: how could you be taken in?” The next, he’d vow revenge. “I’ll have his hide for this. That bastard has cost me my family.”

  When mid-afternoon rolled around, and one of the Freemen reported seeing Gwen in Warkwick-on-Eden, and that she looked happy and not at all sorry, Robert’s mood turned darker. “I’ll torch all of Yngil-wode, if that’s what it takes to get my vengeance.”

  Then, he’d returned to his tent, complaining of a flareup of back pain. “I need to take the elixir. I’ll figure out how to repay the tyrant tomorrow.”

  One by one, the men of the camp meandered off to similarly medicate. The women remained a little longer, cleaning after the party. Eventually, the four time travelers were all who remained at the fire.

  Nancy spoke confidentially but enthusiastically to the others. “I’ve been planting seeds of discontent,” she bragged. “Well, not planting so much as watering. The seeds have been there for a long time.”

  Justin seemed more interested in this scheme than either of the Faveros. As far as Alfred was concerned, this was a long shot. Nance’s idea was to divide the camp, to convince the women to leave so that the men would have no choice but to reconsider their actions.

  There was plenty in her favor. Their living conditions were appalling. The men of the forest were lazy and shiftless, focused on idealistic and often crazy schemes, and addicted to a snake oil salesman’s elixir.

  But even if she could organize the women, even if she could convince them all to leave the forest and return to their homes – and he wasn’t convinced she could – that still left Whod and his band. Indeed, it left them angrier and more desperate than before.

  Justin didn’t see it that way, though. “It’s brilliant, Nance. These bastards need a wakeup call.”

  “Exactly. When no one’s left to feed them and clean up after them, they’ll be singing a different tune.”

  Freddo, meanwhile, stared into the fire glumly. “Not as confident as them?” Alfred wondered.

  He was, it turned out, projecting. The other Favero glanced up confused. “What? Oh, no. I was just thinking…I wish I was home.”

  Alfred snorted. “God, me too. I wish I was out of this darned forest. Away from all these crazy people.”

  “You said it.”

  “So,” Alfred mused in a moment. “In your world…you like camping?”

  Freddo seemed confused again, this time by the topic change. But he thought for a moment, answering, “I don’t know. It’s Justin’s thing, really. But it makes him happy. And that makes me happy, so…” He shrugged. “I guess I like it.”

  The taxman smiled. “Sounds like Nance, and her comic book conventions.”

  Freddo wrinkled his nose. “Comic books? Ugh.”

  “The things we do for love,” Alfred nodded.

  “Isn’t that the truth? To be honest, I never imagined myself sleeping in a tent or spending time in the sun. Not on purpose.”

  He glanced at Nancy, lost in conversation with Justin. The pair of them were laughing together, oblivious to the fact that they were under observation. “Still, it’s worth it.”

  Freddo nodded. “My life was a lot different, before I met him. Not in a good way. It was just a lot of going through the same motions, day after day. Eat, work, sleep. Eat, work, sleep.”

  “Yup.” Alfred remembered those days well. He’d been alive, but not living. There was no spark of light and joy, the way there was now.

  Still, watching Nancy and Justin converse, he felt a pang. He remembered them as a couple, in that campsite in a universe he’d only temporarily visited. He thought of the Nance from Freddo’s world, married to Josh. He thought of all the versions of him and Nance and Justin he’d met, and the very different paths their lives had taken.

  He glanced at Freddo, who was staring at them too, and thought of how different the other man’s life was from his own. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

  “What?”

  “That.” He gestured to Nance and Justin. “In your world, he’s…well, he is to you what Nance is to me.”

  “So?”

  “Well, doesn’t i
t…I don’t know. Seem weird?”

  Freddo shrugged. “Not really. I mean, if you were dating Frank from hardware or something, sure.” He laughed. Then, seeing the crease in Alfred’s forehead, he sobered. “I mean, should it?”

  “I don’t know.” The taxman shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance. “It’s just…I always thought Nance and I were soulmates, you know? That the universe brought us together for a reason.” He glanced up. “You don’t feel that way about Justin?”

  “Sure, sometimes.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you, then? That, in my world, I’m with Nance? That my Justin is a complete posterior orifice? No offense.”

  Freddo frowned at this last bit, but considered for a moment before responding. “Not really. Why would it?”

  Alfred sighed. In his mind, it seemed so clear. “It means you’re not soulmates. Nance and I aren’t soulmates. It’s just…random. Anything could have happened, there’s no order to it. There’s nothing special about it. It doesn’t…mean anything.”

  Freddo stared at him, then laughed. “Hummus. You’ve got that completely backwards.”

  The taxman frowned. “Have I?”

  “It might be random, sure. There might be no order to it. But meaningless?” He shook his head. “No. It’s the opposite, Alfred. It means it does have meaning. It means it’s that much more special. None of this was written in the stars. Me, meeting Justin? Falling in love with him? That was me and him. We made that happen, we two, in this fudged up world.”

  He gestured widely, as if the solution was plain to him. “And you and Nance? You made that happen. You made something special out of nothing. You made order out of chaos. There’s nothing more meaningful than that.” He shrugged. “That’s what soulmates are, dude.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alfred went to bed shaking his head at what a hopeless romantic his doppelganger was. He wondered how two men cut from the same cosmic cloth could differ so wildly on such a core characteristic. While he was sensible and level-headed where love was concerned, Freddo was a wide-eyed dreamer with his head in the clouds.