Eternal Time Shadows Box Set 1 / Volumes 1-10

by Lisa Shea

I turned.

  He was wearing a dark brown tunic now, one that set off his tawny gaze. The moonlight shone full down on him and the pair of men who escorted him. The man on his left had a scar across his cheek, while the one on the right had pale blue eyes. Both wore simple tunics of deep brown, and had swords at their hips. I couldn’t tell if they were guards or friends. Maybe both?

  His step slowed as he drew close, and my heart hammered against my chest.

  His gaze held mine as he drew up next to our table. “I saw you – in the amphitheater.”

  I could only nod.

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Did you bet for me to win?”

  Mary’s voice piped up, high and merry. “Oh, she prays for you daily at the temple!”

  He smiled at that. “Then I thank you. For it is surely due to your help that I am still alive.”

  Still alive.

  Another rumble came from the mountain gods, and fear soaked into my heart.

  The words tumbled from my mouth. “The volcano’s going to erupt. You have to leave Pompeii.”

  One of the guards laughed out loud. “You hear that? Robert here is going to leave Pompeii.”

  The other guard grinned. “That’d be a bit of a challenge.” He gave a friendly nudge to Robert’s shoulder. “Come on, Rob. It’s back to the barracks with you.”

  Robert was still holding my gaze, as if looking for something. Then he nodded to the guard, turning and following after him into the dark night.

  Mary’s smile nearly split her face. “He talked to you! He actually talked to you! Oh, this is amazing. That was a brilliant line about Vesuvius. I wish I’d thought of that.”

  I turned to her, my heart twisting. “But it’s true, Mary. You have to get out of here. Leave before it’s too late.”

  She giggled. “Oh, Elizabeth. You really are addled over him, aren’t you.” She tossed a handful of coins on the table. “I’m paying tonight. You deserve it, for getting him to talk to you.” She chuckled merrily. “Vesuvius erupting.”

  She swooped up her goblet and downed the last of her wine. “All right, I’m off to home. My father will skin me alive if I’m not back before the gates are locked for the night.” She nudged me. “Sweet dreams!” Before I could say another word, she raced off into the darkened streets.

  My heart thundered against my ribs. They would all die. Everyone I saw around me, from the smiling cook behind the counter to the elderly man trudging down the street, would be dead soon. Choked to death by massive layers of steam and ash. And their bodies would be found, many centuries later, as only hollowed spaces in that rocky strata.

  I drew my eyes up to the smoldering volcano. Pompeii would be destroyed. That was a fact of history. And maybe I couldn’t save all the inhabitants within. Maybe they were meant to perish, as part of their natural timeline.

  Maybe I was only meant to save one couple.

  Resolution firmed within me. I had to focus. I needed to fix all my attention on Robert. If I could convince him to get to safety, maybe that would be all that mattered.

  And I knew where he would be.

  I had made a model of Pompeii for an eighth-grade project, out of papier-mâché. I had adored it so much that I’d kept it into my room until it had grown moldy and half caved in. But it meant that I knew exactly where the barracks were located.

  I slipped my mask back on and began making my way down the streets. They were growing quiet, now that it was the deepest depths of night, although the occasional wanderer or drunkard moved at a far distance. Only a few windows sported lamps; most were dark. I kept close to the side walls and worked my way down, fear twisting around me as I went.

  I had no real plan. All I knew was that I had to get to Robert. I’d figure out the rest once I found him.

  I turned the corner, and there the barracks were. The two guards I had seen earlier were standing in the center of the square, talking quietly with each other, swords at their hips. Around them the barracks formed a square. There was no sign of motion – undoubtedly most if not all the inhabitants were sound asleep.

  The two guards looked up as I approached. Scar-face nudged the other with a grin. “She’s looking for a late-night visit, I wager.”

  Blue-eyes’s gaze sparkled with amusement. “And who shall the lucky man be, My Lady?”

  “I … I’d like to see Robert.”

  Both grins grew wider. “That would be a trick, My Lady. You see, Robert don’t see nobody. And believe me, it’s been tried. Anna and Sofia are the most determined two I’ve ever laid eyes on, but he’s turned them away at each time.”

  Tension closed up my throat. “Please, you have to at least let me try. Let me just talk with him.”

  The first guard put out his hand, palm up. “We might ask him.”

  I paled.

  I put my hand into my pouch – but there was nothing there. The one item it had held was my mask. Mary had paid for our meal this evening, and it had never occurred to me that I might need coin of some sort for anything in this world. And where would I get it, if I did? There were certainly no ancient ATM machines around for me to use.

  The one and only thing I had was my mask. And I had a sense I would need that to return to my own time.

  But Robert would die …

  With shaking hands I undid my mask and removed it from my face. “Maybe you would accept –”

  The men were staring at me in the torchlight with recognition. The man with the scar spoke first.

  “Elizabeth Luciani.”

  I cautiously nodded.

  They looked at each other. The other one asked, “Does your father know you’re here?”

  Panic welled up within me. If they prevented me from seeing Robert, everything could be lost. “He doesn’t,” I blurted out, “but I will do anything to see Robert. Anything at all. Just name it.”

  Scar-face looked at blue-eyes with interest. “Your father has access to the best seats for next week’s fight. Surely a few are set aside for you and your chosen friends.”

  I leapt eagerly into the offer. “Yes. Absolutely. He had made it clear to me. And I would gladly take you two as my new-found friends, if you will just let me talk with Robert for a little while.”

  Blue-eyes was beyond delighted. “Of course, my lady. We will let you talk all night, if you wish. But I warn you, he may not wish to … talk. All we can do is provide you with the opportunity.”

  “That’s all I ask,” I agreed in breathless relief.

  He handed me an iron key. “You’ll need this.”

  I clutched it tight in my hand. There was hope.

  “Which room is his?”

  They pointed to the one at the far corner. “He’s right over there. And we’ll move to around the corner to give you two your privacy. For your chat.” He chuckled and raised his eyes at his companion.

  And then, true to his word, they moved off and were gone from view.

  I turned and looked into the blackness of the cells. My mask was still in my hand, and I tucked it back into my pouch. Then I made my way across the courtyard toward the cell. The front of the cell was solid bars from floor to ceiling. He was like a lion in a zoo. A lion on display for all to see, held against his will.

  As I approached the cell I heard a sigh of annoyance. “I’ve told the guards not to bother. You’ve wasted your money, whoever you are. I’m not interested in serving as your companion for the night.”

  My voice broke. “Robert?”

  There was movement, and then he moved slowly to the bars. He still had the dark brown tunic on, and above it the sturdy face, the tawny eyes, and the dark hair. All was as I remembered from my Robert.

  He shook his head as if trying to make sense of what he saw. “Do I know you? Had we met, before earlier this evening in the street?”

  “It’s complicated,” I murmured. How could I explain this in a way he might accept? “I know you … from my dreams.”

  His fingers tightened on the bars of his c
ell. His voice was a whisper. “And you have been in mine.”

  I stepped toward him, caught in his gaze, putting my slender hands over his strong ones. “Oh, Robert, I have to get you out of here. Vesuvius is going to erupt. Soon. And everything we see here will be destroyed. I have to get you free.”

  I put the key in the lock.

  His eyes widened, and he looked up toward the corner where the guards undoubtedly stood. “You can’t do this. You’ll be severely punished for helping a slave to escape. I can’t let that happen to you. Not on my account.”

  I pushed the gate in. “It doesn’t matter, Robert. You have to believe me. Everything will be destroyed. Everyone here will be killed. The fate of one slave won’t matter a whit to them.”

  He shook his head in wonder. “Who are you?”

  I took his hand. “My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Luciani. And you have to trust me. You have to come with me.”

  He was like a stone carving, for as much as my tug failed to budge him. “I can’t see you hurt.”

  I smiled, raising a hand to stroke his face. “Then you’d better come with me, shouldn’t you? Because otherwise I’ll be out there in the wilds, alone, and who knows what will befall me. If you’re not leaving Pompeii, then I will – alone.”

  His brow darkened. “But you wouldn’t –”

  I stepped back, squaring my shoulders. “Oh, yes, I would. I would launch out into the countryside without any protection at all. And I imagine there are bandits, robbers, murderers –”

  His lips pressed together. “You should stay right here, where it’s safe.”

  I turned and pointed to the smouldering volcano. “I swear to you, it is not safe. So I am going – with or without your help.”

  He took in a long breath – then looked into my eyes.

  A long moment passed.

  At last he nodded. “All right. I can see you won’t be swayed. If we are going, you need to give me a moment.”

  He turned to his mat and arranged the blankets on it so they gave the shape of a sleeping body. Then he moved again to the door. He looked cautiously around the area.

  Not a soul stirred.

  His eyes held mine. “You’re sure that you want to do this.”

  I met his gaze, losing myself within him. “Absolutely.”

  He stepped through the door.

  He re-locked the door, then pocketed the key and took my hand. Together we eased around the corner of the building.

  Thank goodness the gladiators were not kept in the center of Pompeii, but rather on its outskirts. There were only a few stray streets to negotiate as we moved further and further from the center of town. My heart sang as we slid down a ravine and dove west into a copse of woods. We had all night to escape before the alarm was raised in the morning. By that point we would be far away. And by the time they searchers realized we weren’t in the city any more … well, the city itself would be no more, either.

  My voice was tight. “We have to get further north. As far as we can go. If we can find a fishing boat, all the better. The eruption flow is going to head south. Southeast, really. And I don’t know if we can get far enough away on foot to clear the ash fallout.”

  He glanced over at me as we scrambled through a cluster of brambles. “How do you know all of this? Are you a priestess at the temple?”

  “My dreams tell me,” I told him, praying that the certainty of my voice would convince him. “They told me to find you, and they told me we had to get away.”

  We came out of the trees, and he looked down with a smile. “A boat!”

  Indeed, a small fishing boat was drawn up onto the sand, a rope tying it to a large hunk of driftwood.

  We scrambled down the slope to its side.

  He moved to the driftwood and began tugging at the rope. “Wish I had a knife on me; this was tied when it was wet. Now it’s dry and rock hard.”

  I looked over at the boat. “Maybe there’s something in here we could use.”

  I climbed in and began digging around in the coils of rope along its bottom.

  I saw the flash of something shiny beneath the layers.

  “Wait, I think I’ve got it!”

  His voice was a sharp cry. “Get down!”

  I flung myself flat into the bottom of the boat.

  A whizzing noise sounded over my head.

  My heart slammed against my ribs. “Robert! Don’t leave me!”

  His voice was a growl. “You bastards, I’ll –”

  Slam.

  Darkness.

  *

  My face was cold.

  I brushed my hair away, pressing myself up. I was lying in an old rowboat, pulled up onto the banks of a wide river. The morning sun was just peeking up over rolling hills. Fog billowed along the river, drifting beneath a stone bridge about a half-mile upstream of me.

  Something thicker joined in with it. Smoke. Billowing smoke.

  A lick of orange, then a cascade. The house across the river from me, barely visible in the dawn shadows, burst into flame.

  I climbed to my feet in shock.

  The house next to it went up like a bonfire.

  There were screams, and cries, and then a pair of men in tartan kilts ran before the buildings, torches in hand.

  One of them bellowed, “Argyll’s coming! Torch everything from here south to Stirling! We’ll keep The King Over the Water safe! Long Live the King!”

  The echoes of “Long Live the King” carried far and wide. One after another, more houses blazed into life.

  I stared. It had to be 1716. And The Old Pretender, as he would come to be known, was about to be driven out of Scotland.

  4 – Scotland Destiny

  I watched helplessly as, across the wide river Tay, house after house billowed into orange flame. The colors reflected the growing glow of the chill January dawn. My breath came out in frosty gasps, and I pulled my thick, wool cloak tighter around my shoulders. I was dressed in a deep blue dress with long, pleated skirts over heavy leather boots. A cloth pouch at my hip had that familiar bulge in it. No need to look inside to know my mask was with me.

  Was Robert somewhere in that inferno?

  Argyll was on his way, marching with his British forces and artillery up from Stirling to Perth. That meant the Old Pretender – or James Francis Edward Stuart as he was more properly known in this time frame – was somewhere fairly far to my northeast. And the poor Jacobite loyalists who were risking their lives to help the cause might as well be tucked in, warm and safe, at the local pub, enjoying whiskey and haggis. For their fearless leader would turn tail and run. Within the month he’d be hopping in a boat at Montrose, hurrying back to France to lose himself in his life of opulent luxury.

  But for the poor innocents who lived in this region, ruthlessly burned out of house and home, their winter would be desperately bleak.

  A sharp scream split the morning air, and I spun.

  My heart stopped.

  A slender blonde woman was leaning in panic out of a second story window, her sunshine-yellow dress glowing in the rising morning sun. All around her, the flames hungrily licked.

  Mary.

  I leapt out of the decaying rowboat and sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me along the fog-shadowed bank. There was a stone bridge not too far ahead, and my heart pounded like a bass drum as I scrambled over rocks and dodged around clusters of poplar. I had to get to her. Mary had kept me sane, those long years in college. The years where my father drifted ever further from me, pulled speedily distant like a water-skier by my too-young stepmother.

  To hear Mary screaming –

  I stumbled as I reached the packed-dirt main road, then raced over the bridge, the heavy stones echoing sharply beneath my hammering feet. Each breath was agonizing – was I too late?

  I skidded to a stop beneath the window, searching in the blaze of light and shadow. “Mary! Mary!”

  A wordless scream echoed from within.

  I dove toward the door –


  A strong hand grabbed my arm. “Wait!”

  I yanked at the grasp, spinning in fury. “Let me go, you –”

  It was Robert.

  I blinked at him in shock. His thick, dark hair was dense and curled, flecked with a layer of ash and soot. His face was smeared with grime. He wore a white shirt with a leather tunic over a blue-and-gold kilt.

  He stared at me in bewilderment, as if a ghost was standing there before him. “You?”

  I pulled again, more ferociously. “Let me go!”

  He spread his hands, taking a half-step back, his eyes still caught on my face.

  I wasn’t giving him a second chance at holding me back.

  I popped off the brooch holding my cloak together and spun, racing into the fire. His hand swiped for me again, but it tangled in the heavy fabric, and I was free.

  Heat baked my face, and I drew in a sharp breath, the air searing my lungs. The large downstairs space was fully engulfed in flames. I could make out the shapes of a butcher-block table and several chairs. A large cast-iron pot sat serenely in a fireplace while the fire whirled a merry dance all around it. At the far end of the room was a set of stairs, half the rungs of the bannister flaming high like festival torches.

  I ran for it.

  The stairs groaned beneath my feet as I leapt up them, and falling cinders caught in my long hair. I swatted at them as I came up to the top and turned.

  The hallway had several open doors off of it, each a window into a snapshot view of Hades. Mary would be at the far end –

  A scream again, one of hopeless despair.

  I ran toward the opening.

  The room blinded me with its white-hot light and heat. I searched vainly through the brightness, my eyes streaming with tears. I could not have lost her. She was here, somewhere, and I just had to –

  There.

  She was curled up in a fetal ball, her dress pulled to her face in a vain attempt to hold off the thick smoke. She lay still.

  I raced to her side, shaking her. “Mary! Mary!”

  She looked up in confusion. “Elizabeth? You came back?”

  I pulled her up to her feet. “We have to get you out of here.”

  There was a cracking noise, and I turned.

  The hallway roof behind us caved in with a shower of sparks and timber. The way out was wholly sealed.