The Amethyst Amulets
Page 4
"In the twenty-first century, women are equal to men. They can do anything they wish."
"Ridiculous. I certainly would not wish to live in a time where women do not know their place.” He stomped across the hall to the entry building and gazed out across the upper bailey. It was empty. No voices shouted orders, no horses, no men-at-arms, no washerwomen, and no peddlers. No one bringing milk and eggs. Totally deserted.
He spun on his heel and marched back to face Lily. “Who are you?"
"Someone who is trying to help solve your problems.” She smiled, but Nicholas had the distinct feeling she had neatly side-stepped his question.
"Well, one of my problems is that my people are missing. Where are they?” This woman was driving him mad with her evasions.
"You have no people, Lord Nicholas. Those who work here, and there are not many, are paid wages for their service. And they live elsewhere.
He struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Bloody Hell. I do not wish to stay here. Send me back to my own time, witch, where things make sense."
"Not yet. First, you must discover the reason you are here. Then, perhaps we will talk about returning."
Nicholas clenched his fists and closed his eyes in total frustration. When he opened them a moment later, Lily had disappeared. No sound had marked her going. Nicholas shivered and reminded himself this woman was a witch. It would not do to upset her. He vowed to be more pleasant in the future, especially since she had the power to send him home.
He finished his ale, then walked slowly up the stairs to his solar. Exhaustion had set in and the bed looked very inviting. He went over and sat on the mattress. Its comfort called to him and he lay down on the coverlet, determined to think over all the marvelous and strange things he had learned today. However, his eyelids grew heavy. He had had no sleep last night and was too exhausted to solve anything now. Later...
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Chapter 3
The last student finally left. Julie heaved a sigh of relief and hurried out into the warm, late afternoon sunshine. The air was filled with the smell of green growing things. It would be a shame to miss out on such a glorious day, though she felt a bit guilty about not working on her book.
During some of her research, she'd come across a number of delightful medieval love poems. Most were in French, however she'd decided to translate them into English. With each grouping of poems, she added discussions of chivalry and courtly love, and how these particular poems related to the time in which they were written.
If the book sold, maybe she could afford to give up moonlighting as Nick's bookkeeper and devote all her energy to teaching and writing. Her position with the university was high on prestige, but low on salary. Published, she would earn a little more. Less exciting than looking for her knight in shining armor, but infinitely more attainable. However, she wouldn't look away if Sir Lancelot happened to ride by.
With a sigh, she remembered that Nick was coming to dinner. She couldn't work up any enthusiasm for this. If only he'd talk about something besides his suits of armor.
She unlocked her bicycle and pedaled off, trying not to run down any of the college students who cluttered the narrow streets of the famous old university city. A short time later as she entered Barstow Village's high street, Lily came out of her shop and waved. Julie hopped down and walked beside her friend.
"I'm going to the store for some mint jelly. We're having lamb tonight. And you?"
"Same place, different reason.” Lily was being cryptic again. But why?
They reached the store, went inside and separated. Although Julie had only one item to purchase, Lily was waiting outside when she emerged.
"Done already?"
Lily smiled. “I didn't need much. Did you say Nick was coming to dinner tonight?"
"Yes. We need to settle on the guest list and the food for the May Day Feast. And we both have to eat."
"That's true, I suppose."
Julie gave a silent sigh. Lily probably thought Julie should expand her social life and having Nick to dinner on a Friday night, when other twenty-somethings were out on dates, wouldn't make it happen. As if she had a choice. Few young men taught at Cambridge, Nick being the only one she knew. And he wasn't what she was looking for. Then she remembered the strange heat that had flared this morning in her belly when he spoke. How the passion in his voice had flowed through her body like a warm stream of water.
She sighed. This evening was not about romance, just getting the feast organized.
Lily interrupted her thoughts. “Would I be too rude if I asked to join you tonight?"
Surprised that Lily would want to spend such a dull evening, Julie quickly said, “Of course not. We'd love to have you. But be warned, Nick will probably switch the conversation from the feast to ancient armor."
Lily raised a dark eyebrow. “You'd be surprised at the extent of my interest in that.” Before Julie could question that comment, Lily asked, “What time should I come?"
"Seven would be good."
"I'll bring some wine.” Lily turned and walked quickly back toward her shop.
Odd, Julie thought. Her friend didn't appear to have bought anything. Had she been waiting for Julie for some reason? She shook her head. First, Nick started acting strangely, and now Lily. Hopefully, by tonight, they'd be back to their usual selves.
Someone was shaking him. Nicholas shot up and grabbed for his sword only to find it missing. Seeing Lily, he slumped back against the pillows and glared at her. “Do not startle me, woman, if you value your life."
Lily chuckled. “Come, Lord Nicholas. You need to get ready to go to Julie's."
She stepped back and waited.
He stretched and swung his feet to the floor. “I feel wondrously refreshed. Never have I slept on a better bed,” he declared, staring at the tall woman who stood holding several garments over her arm. “Of what is this mattress made? It cannot be straw or feathers."
"No,” Lily agreed, “it's not made of either. I'll explain another time. There are more important lessons to be learned before we leave."
"Lessons?"
"You must learn to access Nick's brain so you can speak and understand the English of today. And for that, I must have your cooperation. Now, where is Julianne's amulet?"
Annoyed, Nicholas found it on the bedside table and with a scowl handed it to Lily. This witch was too controlling, but he dared not cross her.
"Good.” Lily plucked the delicate necklace from his hand. “Please be seated, my lord. This will not take long."
Realizing he was not really in control of this situation though he hated to admit it, he sat back down on the bed. “Be quick,” he huffed, fisting his hands on his knees.
Lily nodded. She held the necklace by its clasp with the jewel hanging down in front of his face. Slowly she started it swinging back and forth, back and forth.
Nicholas stared, mesmerized. The room began to fade. Dimly, he heard Lily's soft voice chanting in some strange language. The fragrance of lilacs filled his nostrils and his eyes drifted half shut. Lilacs? He had seen none outside today.
Lily droned on. His head buzzed, like a hive of bees had arrived. The sensation grew stronger and the lilac odor overpowering. His head began to ache. Bile rose into his throat, burned, then subsided. His mind felt stuffed with knowledge, both his own and that of someone else. He grimaced. Purchasing the amulet in that eastern bazaar had not been his finest idea. Ignoring the Arab's warning had also been equally foolish.
Through the haze in his head, he heard Lily say, “When I snap my fingers you will awake with access to Nick's mind."
Snap. The haze lifted and the about-to-burst feeling in his head subsided. His stomach tried once more to rebel. He swallowed hard several times, then opened his eyes.
Lily dropped the amulet into her shirt pocket. “A little rough, eh?"
"More than a little,” he said, rubbing his forehead.
"Are my words coming easi
ly to you?"
"Aye, but they did before."
She smiled. “Ah, but I was speaking French then. Now I'm speaking modern English. There is a huge difference, my lord.” She seemed pleased with herself.
Nicholas scowled. “How did you do that?” he asked reluctantly. To have a woman, even a witch, best him was disagreeable.
"Do you remember what the old Arab in Damascus told you about the power of the amethyst amulet?"
Startled, he nodded. How had she known of that? Only Edgar and Miles had heard what the man said that day and neither of them would have told Lily.
"Magic,” she replied, as if in answer to his unspoken question.
Ignoring his slack-jawed amazement, she handed him the clothes she'd brought. “Come, you'll want to bathe and shave before we leave,” she said.
Numbly, he followed, trying with difficulty to regain his composure. All his life, he'd kept his distance from witches. And here he was, dependent on one. Nicholas shivered.
In the garderobe, Lily pushed a knob on the wall. “This turns the lights off and on."
He nodded. “And I turn these handles to get water?"
"Yes. Adjust them to the temperature you want. One is cold, the other hot. Are you beginning to tap into Nick's knowledge?"
"Aye. I understand the workings of this...sink?"
"Yes.” On the wall was a piece of glass. She pulled and it swung outward.
"A...medicine cabinet. Am I correct?"
She smiled. “You are using Nick's mind now.” She picked up an object from the glass shelf. “This is a..."
"Razor. For shaving.” He examined it. Far different from the sharp knife he usually used, which often left his skin raw.
She continued through toothpaste and toothbrush. “And you already know how to use a comb and soap."
"I can manage, Lily,” he snarled. The quicker this woman left, the better. This whole experience was madness.
She nodded and went out, shutting the door behind her.
After the best bath he'd ever had, Nicholas toweled off and removed his bristly whiskers.
He wrapped a towel around his hips and ventured into the bedroom. Lily had disappeared, but the garments she had brought still lay on the bed where he had dropped them.
He dressed more confidently than before in dark blue trousers—a wonderful light weight wool—and a stiff-collared white shirt that buttoned down the front. He knew it should be tucked into the trousers, though that was not the way he would have worn it in his other life. He drew the belt through the loops and then regarded a long piece of cloth in a dark blue and green plaid. He'd have to ask Lily how this went on. Socks, shoes—different from the ones he'd worn earlier. These were shiny, black and less comfortable.
Draping the dark blue coat over one shoulder, he descended the winding stone stairs to the hall. He spotted Lily perched on the table, swinging her legs and looking pensive.
He arched an eyebrow and held out the piece of material. “I'm not sure how this goes."
Lily hopped off the table and took the cloth from him. “It goes around your neck.” Deftly, she placed it under his shirt collar and tied what she called a four-in-hand knot.
"It's too tight,” he grumbled, not used to the choking effect endured by modern men.
She ignored his complaint. “Come with me. We're going for a ride, but not on a horse.” Although he sensed what she might mean, he lifted a questioning eyebrow again. She added, “I thought I'd warn you so you won't come unglued on your first automobile ride."
Nicholas frowned. “Whatever that might be, I will not come unglued, as you put it."
A few minutes later, as Lily's car moved across the lower bailey and out over the drawbridge, he wasn't so sure. Fascinated and slightly apprehensive would describe it better. He gripped the seat surreptitiously and watched the scenery fly by. Did people still have horses? He searched Nick's mind and was reassured when he found that they did.
In less than five minutes, they arrived at Julie's, a distance which in the past would have taken him twice as long at a full gallop. He gazed down the high street and gasped. It bore little resemblance to the Barstow Village of his time. Gone was the muddy lane. The street was paved and the houses larger and better kept. Automobiles like Lily's stood along the roadside. What people he could see wore plain but clean clothes and well-fed children played in the dooryards. Lights on poles turned the dusk to day. Amazing!
He slid from the car and saw Julie in the doorway, smiling at them. He stopped and stared at her. This witch was certainly comely. Nevertheless, he supposed a witch could take any form that pleased her. It would be easy to fall under her spell, so he would have to be careful. His new knowledge of the language should help him avoid any snares she might set.
He followed the older witch up the walk, glancing at the stone cottage with its thatched roof. The younger witch shut the door and waved them toward a group of comfortable looking chairs clustered around a stone fireplace. A hearty blaze warmed the small room. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.
"Aye, ale.” He tried not to stare at his hostess’ lovely face framed by her long golden curls, so much like Julianne's.
Julie shook her head. “Sorry, no ale, just beer and wine."
He sighed. Perhaps this future wasn't so great after all. “Beer, then,” he said, selecting a chair and sinking into its amazing softness.
This room was clean and neat, he thought, but so small. One could drop it two score and ten times into his great hall. His gaze stopped on a group of paintings hanging above the fireplace. Those must have cost a great deal. And to find them in a crofter's cottage! Amazing. This Julie must be very wealthy even though her house itself was humble. Lily had said she taught, which meant she had been educated. He wondered why those in authority would allow a woman to gain an education, much less tutor boys. And why did she live in this tiny cottage if she had wealth?
Lily handed a bottle of wine to Julie who took it and disappeared.
Lily listened for a moment, then rose and plucked an eating tool of some kind from the table. “Nick,” she whispered. “This is a fork. Don't spear your meat with your knife. Just use it to cut. Hold the fork like this.” She demonstrated. “And don't pick up your food with your fingers unless it's bread. If in doubt, watch me."
He nodded grudgingly. It displeased him greatly to be instructed in table manners by this woman. Anyway, why should he care about impressing this Julie if she were not Julianne?
Then he remembered that after this meal, they were to decide on food and entertainment for the May Day Feast. At least he knew about that—somewhat. His cook and steward had planned last year's feast and he had arranged the entertainment for his guests. For him it had been a joyous day and evening because he and Julianne had also wed on that day. At the time, he'd concentrated more on his lovely bride than the food. Still, he knew what would be normal fare for this feast. Discussing his everyday life would be easier than watching his manners.
Julie appeared with a platter of his favorite meat, roast lamb. The delicious smell started his stomach rumbling. How would she know what he liked unless she was Julianne? That was puzzling. Mayhap witches could read minds. He scowled to indicate his displeasure.
However, when Lily touched his shoulder, he took his place at the table. He eyed the dishes made of some unknown material. No pewter plates or bread trenchers for this woman. She must have much gold. Narrowing his eyes, he sipped his beer and watched Lily wield her fork. It did not look too difficult. After a moment, he picked up his fork and began to eat. Although Lily appeared relieved, Julie looked puzzled. He sensed she was not privy to Lily's secrets.
It was time to give his overcharged mind a rest and enjoy this fine meal. Afterward, he would demand answers from the two witches. He must make them send him back to his own time. The problems still awaiting him would not solve themselves. If all this was a dream, it was time to wake up.
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Chapter 4
Julie saw Lily glance at her watch. Her friend designed both expensive jewelry, which she sold on consignment, and inexpensive paste imitations for a local gift shop. In the past, the start of the tourist season was her busiest time of year. Was Lily worried about finishing something she'd promised for tomorrow? If so, why invite herself to dinner?
"I'm not trying to get rid of you, Lily, but if you've got a rush order, Nick and I will understand.” Julie began gathering up the dirty dishes. “I can run him home afterward."
She wondered why Lily had picked up Nick in the first place. He could have driven himself and it was out of Lily's way. More mysteries.
"I'm never too busy to help my friends.” Lily gathered up some more dishes, and followed Julie into the kitchen.
Julie smiled. “I appreciate your offer, but surely you aren't really interested in how many kegs of beer and bottles of wine we need,” she said, still puzzled by a sense of Nick and Lily's surprising alliance. Were they that close?
"You never know, I might be.” Lily lifted the tray of Royal Dalton cups and saucers and moved back into the dining room before Julie could ask what she meant.
Julie picked up a plate of freshly baked tea biscuits and followed her. “Don't think we're not grateful for your help, but..."
Lily placed the tray on the table. “I have time. Otherwise I wouldn't have offered."
"I just thought...” Julie let the words drift away. She set the plate of biscuits next to the teapot and Nick immediately reached for one. His hand brushed Julie's and to her astonishment, an electric sizzle raced up her arm.
His startled amber eyes met hers. So, he felt it, too. After all the time they'd known one another, how strange to have this happen. But it changed nothing. She would not get involved with Nick because of a sexual sizzle. He was still the same man he had been yesterday.
His gaze continued to hold hers, almost sucking the breath from her chest with its intensity. The odor of his aftershave drifted up to her nostrils. And something else—something very male.