Jericho Johnson: The Gauntlet of Time

by J. A. Stowell

  “Do you remember when I told you where I was really from?”

  Instantly, Piper said, “You said you were from a different time. That was all.”

  The way she’d replied so quickly led me to believe that she’d thought about the conversation more than once. “I wanted to ask you more,” she started, her voice trailing off as she looked anywhere but at me, her cheeks red.

  The evening was a relatively cold one on that particular night, as I recall.

  “It’s freakin’ fre-freezing,” I had said through chattering teeth while jumping up and down behind Piper, who was busy lighting a fire.

  “You always sa-say th-that,” She said- not in the least bit cold but mocking me with a beautiful smile on her face, “Don’t be a baby. You’ll be warm soon enough.”

  “I’m not so sure.” I said, wrapping my arms tight around me “There’s probably not enough fire in helheim to warm me up right about now.”

  In a few minutes, though, Piper had an awesome fire going with a few of our catch of the day thrust on sticks above it while we sat a few feet away curled up in what they called a fishing/hunting blanket. Not exactly like that because they called it either one depending on whether or not they happened to be fishing or hunting in the frigid weather. Since we were on a long fishing trip, the polar bear skin was called a fishing blanket that night.

  And, dude, but it was a cozy skin. I actually had thought about bringing one back with me but decided against it considering the Vikings, unlike me, didn’t have animal rights people at every street corner.

  Probably a good thing, too, ‘cause after my three month voyage of Vikingness, I now know why the polar bears are endangered. And if you’re wondering whether or not I killed one while I was there--

  No comment.

  Where was I?

  Oh yeah. Me and the beautiful warrior Viking girl cuddled up in bear skins in the middle of nowhere. Well, we weren’t exactly cuddled together because, I don’t know if you guys have ever had the chance to sit wrapped up in a polar bear skin, unlikely because of the you-know-who people, but those things are huge. So when I say Piper and I were sharing a blanket and you get all giggly and stuff, just let it be known that we might as well have been sharing a circus tent, ‘cause we had about that much space in our bear skin.

  Also, they called them snow bears and not polar bears. Just FYI.

  We talked while the fish cooked… gosh but I am just killing animals right and left in this tale, aren’t I? At least I know when I go to try and publish this thing that I can go ahead and count the animal rights people on my list of potential enemies right along with Mark Zuckerberg, Good Charlotte, Barack Obama and Beyonce’ Knowles.

  And incidentally it’s because of Good Charlotte that Beyonce’ hates me. Just thought you should know that…

  “You’ve got a good spear arm,” Chloe said as she checked the fish with a knife.

  Considering we had just been talking about what we’d done that day I shrugged it off and smiled, saying, “Thanks, Pipe. Since you taught me I guess I should say that you do, too.”

  “Almost done,” she said, sitting back and looking at the bear skin floor. I could sense that she was purposely not looking at me and I took the moment to examine her white-blonde hair, noticing the dark spots from the melted snow, which made it look wicked cool to me.

  Then, for some crazy reason, I blurted, with my arms wrapped around my knees drawn to my chest, “I’m not from here, Piper. I’m from another time.”

  When I say crazy reason, I mean this: because I really thought the world of Piper, realized it as she shyly complimented my spear arm and looked at the ground, and decided that I wanted to be honest with her. So yeah, that was my crazy reason.

  Sue me.

  “I really like you, you know,” she said, her eyes still on the skin covered ground. “I don’t know when you plan on leaving but I’d rather you stay if you can or take me with you if you can’t.”

  This was a lot for Piper, who wasn’t much on talking. I’d been with them almost three months and she wanted to leave with me. Most guys would think this a real score.

  I was thinking this was the exactly what I was hoping Piper wouldn’t say. I mean, I’d seen her looks at times, felt her gaze, heard the jokes her friends made to her about me and all, but I thought I’d be gone before she got the courage to tell me anything like what she was telling me right then.

  What was I supposed to say? Did I like her back? Well, duh! I mean, I was currently on a three week fishing trip with just her; clearly I liked her company, but was that all? Did I just like being around her and causing her to blush and smile with my twenty-first century flirtatiousness?

  Or did I really like Piper, the Viking warrior chic from 794 A.D.?

  Since I wasn't, I said, after an awkward pause, “Piper, I think you’re awesome. But I can’t take you with me when I leave.”

  See? That sentence didn’t say whether or not I did or didn’t like her. I’m awesome.

  “Why?” Piper asked, looking up at me and my heart melted. Sometimes in my time-traveling I’m presented with a situation that makes me think, “What the heck, Jericho? What’re you doing, man?”

  Piper’s heart-wrenching look was one of those times.

  “Because I have… duties.” I tried.

  “Like what? I could help,” she said hopefully, causing me to feel like a cad even though I hadn’t done anything.

  “Not with these kind of duties, sweetheart.” I said, “I’m a teacher of sorts where I come from and also a soothsayer/seer/know-it-all and in severely high demand.”

  Piper looked at me a few more seconds, making me feel dreadful, before simply nodding, checking the fish one last time, and saying, “Food’s done.”

  And that was pretty much it. The trip lasted another two days and we went back to the village. I was there a few more days and left.

  To say that I hadn’t thought of Piper at all when I went home would be a lie. I had thought of her and about what she’d told me. I had also been rehearsing what I would tell her when I saw her again because I was definitely going back one day.

  But right then, after Chloe had been abducted and I was trying to explain to Piper why I needed to ride like the wind after her, I still didn’t know what to say.

  “It’s fine,” I told her, “I wasn’t exactly my smoothest that night.”

  “What about where you’re from?” Piper said, changing the subject. Which was fine but also scary because what if she hated me now?

  “I’m from the future,” I said simply, “I guess the best way to say it is that I’m from tomorrow.”

  Pulling her eyebrows down in thought she asked, “How far in the future?”

  “Well, it’s 794 now,” I said, figuring it in my head, “And I’m from 2012, so twelve-hundred and eighteen exactly.” Then, just for the helheim of it, I told her, “And, just FYI, I wouldn’t go the Britain this year if I were you. It sounds great and adventurous but you guys aren’t exactly welcomed with open British arms in 794. Just saying. I’d go around 1033 because relations are really smoothed out by then.”

  Piper was staring at me like I’d just told her I was a girl. “You’re serious?”

  Nodding, I said, “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in but it’s true.”

  “So you can just go anywhere… anytime you choose? How?”

  Tapping my gauntlet, I told her, “My gauntlet. This is what takes me to anytime I want.” I decided that explaining the mechanics of it and where it had came from wasn’t exactly important right then so I left that out. “But here’s my dilemma, Piper, I can’t control where or when I’m going for a while and it’s saying that I only have a little over five hours left here before it takes me somewhere else and if Chloe’s not here with me when that happens, she’ll be left and probably never see her father again.”

  Piper’s brows were still furrowed but I could see she was starting to catch on. “So… it’s broken?”

  I
was taken aback, “What? No, the gauntlet isn’t…” But then I thought of the fact that it was basically taking me on joyrides that I wasn’t exactly digging and, to be honest, that didn’t sound fixed to me. So thanks for nothing, Dr. Atrium Sparks.

  “Essentially, yeah, I guess it is broken,” I said, “So now do you see why I have to go after Chloe, like, right now?”

  Without another word about my when, where, what, who or why, Piper started walking. “We’ll need horses.”

  “That’s my girl,” I told her, falling in step behind her as we trotted toward her village.

  This wasn’t going to be neither easy nor fun, I knew it. But I was really glad Piper was helping me because right then, in the snowy mountains of Svalbard, she was my only hope.

  Or more specifically, Chloe’s only hope

  Chapter 24

  Piper’s home town looked pretty much the way I’d left it. Cold, damp, cheery and a tad drunk on ale.

  “Jericho, my friend,” a blacksmith by the name of Olger said to me, smiling broadly and clapping me on the shoulder, “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

  Olger was the one who’d made the awesome double-bladed battleaxe for me and was a great guy. “I forgot a friend of mine who happened to be kidnapped by your enemies, Olg, nothing more.”

  Nodding knowingly, like kidnapped friends were the absolute norm on Svalbard, Olger said, with a friendly hand on my shoulder, “Aye. Had me a friend kidnapped by the southern tribes once.”

  “Really? What became of her- uh, him?” I asked carefully.

  Shrugging, the blacksmith said, “Never saw him again. Heard he was flayed from neck to belly and mounted on stakes.”

  Piper must’ve seen the look on my face at the mentioning of flaying and staking because she cut our village visit down to a few minutes. Bulwark the Mighty wasn’t too keen on Piper escorting me behind enemy lines but, because he and I were old chums who used to sit beside one another on the Thursday night war council meetings, he let us go.

  Actually, I might’ve thought I was losing him and decided to throw in that we’d also look around for any signs of his older brother while we were out and about around the enemy camps, which was probably the only reason he said yes. He also insisted, since I had somehow lost my weapons I’d had not a hour ago when I left, that I take his weapons.

  “No thanks, Bulwark,” I told him. “I don’t plan on coming back afterwards and I’d hate for Piper to have to tote all of your stuff back. This is just a pit stop,” I said, winking at him.

  So after I’d acquired a two-handed great-sword slung on my back with a bow and quiver, I was ready to go. Piper was more of a shield kind of gal and not a big fan of heavy weapons, choosing instead to rock a one-handed sword so she could have her precious shield. In exactly two minutes, the both of us were standing next to our mounts, fully equipped for our journey. Since I was trying to hurry, I didn’t take the time to garb myself from head to toe in Viking clothes, which I hated to not do because they were so comfortable. I did lose my Nazi long coat, though, exchanging it for a small form-fitting sleeved coat of mail and a few wolf skins around it.

  Also, just FYI, finding a suit of mail small enough for me wasn’t easy. And if Piper ever tells this story and her version says that I had to borrow the mail from her--

  It’s true. Just saying.

  Also the mail went great with my black Chuck Taylors. What can I say, black goes great with pretty much everything.

  I stepped up into the saddle of my black and white war horse and checked my glove. Four hours and fifty minutes left. “You ready, dear?” I asked Piper as she climbed into her saddle.

  “I was going to ask you that,” she told me, causing me to frown because Chloe had said the exact same thing to me once.

  My reply was a heel to my horse, “Peace, all,” I called over my shoulder, “I’ll be back one day. You guys rock.”

  So with that, the two of us, aided by the cheers of our Viking comrades at our backs, left the village and went in search for the helpless Russian girl from 2340.

  We hit the snow-covered ground hard, turning our mounts west and kicking them into high gear. They just don’t make horses like they used to, is all I’m going to say. Your average 2012 steed wouldn’t have probably made it to four hours left on my glove, let alone two and a half hours left like the Viking mounts accomplished. We stopped by an icy creek, dismounting and leading the lathered beasts to it and letting them get a good drink.

  “How much further?” I asked, checking my gauntlet while leaning against a bare tree. “’Cause my legs are killing me.”

  “Another hour to the first camp.” Piper said, patting the neck of her tired horse, “The next one is another half hour or so from that one but the good thing is we’ll know whether or not your friend is in either one of them from a distance if our timing is right.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Let’s get moving,” I said, pulling the reins of my horse in mid-drink.

  “They need more time, Jericho.”

  “Well, what do you freakin’ know? So do I.”

  Piper stepped in front of me, putting her hands on my chest softly yet with some firmness, “If you kill or lame the horses, you surely will not have the time you so desperately need.”

  “Get out of my way, Piper.”

  “Make me.”

  We stood there for what seemed like a long time with our eyes locked while my poor horse was pulling at his reins trying to get at the water again. I don’t know what came over me. I mean, my body has been guilty of doing stupid things without first consulting my brain. Who’s hasn’t, right?

  I let go of the reins, “Come here,” was all I said, pulling her into a hug. She didn’t resist at all and wrapped her arms around my waist, placing the side of her head on my mailed chest. It wasn’t the most amorous of hugs. I mean, with her arms around my waist and my arms kind of around her head with a hand on her hair, it kind of felt like more of a comforting hug.

  “Sorry, Pipe. I know you’re doing a lot for me, here,” I said and I felt her melt into me.

  “I don’t even know who she is,” I heard her mumble.

  “She’s a Russian girl from the year 2340 with some anger issues.” I said, stroking her hair with--geez, not the gauntlet--I switched hands so as not to electrocute or cut her head off and kept stroking blonde hair. “Her father made the gauntlet and he’s in danger right now and we’re the only people who can help him. Chloe not dying is at the top of my to-do list at the moment.”

  Piper pulled away a little, looked me in the face again, and then placed a cold hand on my cheek. “How is this any of your responsibility? How can anyone from anytime other than your own be any reason to risk your life? Even me. What am I to you?”

  The question wasn’t a hard one. Nor was it one that I hadn’t been expecting anyone I met in my travels to ask me. “You’re my friend,” I told her, “So are the rest of your brethren. And so is Chloe.”

  Wow. Did I really just give a Viking warrior chic from 794 A.D. the friend zone bit? Really, Jericho? Annoying as it was, I did, in fact, give her the “just friends” speech in my own roundabout way.

  “Just a friend?” Piper asked, one side of her mouth lifting into a smile, or was that a smirk? Her index finger did something to my sideburn that felt great and made me want to close my eyes and go to sleep.

  I reached up and covered her hand with mine. “That’s all I got right now, Piper. But I got to say, I do so love this little island of yours.”

  “Thanks. Made it myself.” She said, smiling and showing her white teeth that I loved.

  “Shut up,” I told her, shoving her away and laughing, “Look at us laughing in the face of danger like a couple of champs.”

  It really was crazy. More so after we waited till I had two hours left on my clock before mounting up again on our halfway refreshed horses. We rode in silence for what seemed like fifty-three minutes- because that’s exactly how long we’
d been riding in silence before Piper, who was in the lead, held up a hand and we stopped in a small outcrop of trees.

  “How much longer do you have?” She asked as she stepped down into the deep snow.

  “Hour and seven minutes.”

  “Not too bad,” Piper stated, pulling off her bow, “Better make it count, though.”

  We tied the horses to a few smaller trees and exited the outcropping. The first sounds of revelry were heard from afar and within minutes we could see the first enemy village. Piper crouched down at the top of a hill that overlooked the rather small village. “She’s not here.”

  “What?” I asked, squatting beside her, “How do you know?”

  “It’s a gift. She’s not here.” She said simply, standing quickly, “We need to hurry. If Chloe’s captor didn’t stop here then we might catch her before she makes it to the other village.”

  After we made it back and exited the small section of trees on our horses, I asked, “What do you mean it’s a gift?”

  Reaching a hand to her neck, Piper pulled down her snow-fox pelt, exposing her right collarbone- and the horrific burn on it. “The southern war-bands have a way of welcoming women captives into their camps.”

  My mouth was hanging open for a while before I regained enough composure to ask, “When did it happen?”

  “When I was twelve. A lot of us were taken during the border wars back then.” She said casually, like she was talking about how deep the snow got at this time of year. “Since I was so young, they put me to work in their meat huts and tending to the sheep. Some of the older women weren’t so lucky. There’s a lot more noise involved so she’s not here.”

  I was starting to catch on to what she was saying and I was also starting to feel sick. Geez, but could this day get any worse?

  Then my horse tripped in a hole and broke its right front leg.

  So yeah, I suppose the day could and did get worse.

  Since I was so high off the ground on the mountainous beast, I was somehow flung forward and ended up with a mouthful of snow instead of being crushed by my ride.