Shades of Time kobo

by Sarah Woodbury

  Anna looked confused, or maybe that was the drugs making her cross-eyed, so Mark took another moment to explain while he opened the back door to let her out, “MI-5 tracks every ping off every cell tower in Britain. If any unregistered phone is being used within MI-5, it will eventually be noted. Once her new number appears in the record, all the calls on it can be traced, and it will link back to mine.”

  “But then won’t any phone she uses be linked to yours?” Anna said.

  “Yes, if I used a phone,” Livia said.

  Anna blinked, clearly not understanding, but they needed to move now, and he had no more time to explain. “Surveillance is fine until you want to do something which the authorities would not approve of.” Mark took Anna’s arm and moved her onto the sidewalk. Then he leaned in the window to speak to Livia. “Thanks again.”

  As Livia drove away, for a second he and Anna simply stood on the sidewalk and looked at each other. Then Mark put a hand on Anna’s good shoulder, like Callum used to do when he wanted to be supportive. One of the hallmarks of the Middle Ages was the way a single person could effect change. David, a fourteen-year-old American kid, had transformed an entire country. Admittedly, he was the son of the Prince of Wales, and events had time and again conspired to put him in the right place at the right time, but each time he’d done what needed doing. David was so damn righteous, as Callum had said more than once, but he was also the man everybody’s money was on. For good reason.

  Because she was a woman and not Llywelyn’s natural daughter (though by now everybody assumed she was anyway), Anna hadn’t transformed the political landscape in the same way as David, but the impact of her presence was no less abiding and deep. At the very least, from the start she’d provided David with the grounding he needed, and given voice to her opinions without regard to his elevated station.

  It had been she, as well, who’d pulled Gwenllian out of Castell y Bere in a no less noble or heroic act than what David himself had undertaken. And it was she who was responsible for bringing Edmund Mortimer into David’s fold. She was an American woman misplaced in time, and by her example, women in the Middle Ages had opportunities that history wouldn’t have afforded them for hundreds of years.

  As they started down the sidewalk, he could tell Anna was favoring her wrist more and more. “I’m worried I took you out of the hospital when you still needed to be in it.”

  “We had no choice.” There was definite hollowness to her voice. “I admit I don’t feel great.”

  “None of us have slept, and you’ve just time traveled from medieval Wales. Don’t worry about anything right now. It will all look better after a nap.”

  Anna shot him a skeptical look. “You know better than that. Bruises are always worse the second day.”

  “It’s going to be okay. We’ll be there in just a tick, and you can rest.”

  Anna’s morose expression didn’t change. “I would never have intended for you to be hung out to dry. That wasn’t what Callum meant to happen when we left you here.”

  “That may not be what he wanted, but it’s what we’ve got.”

  “Can you tell me what happened to Jon, Christopher’s friend? Christopher has been worried.”

  “That was a mess, though not one solved by me. Director Tate intervened with the FBI.” Mark paused. “I don’t want you to worry. You have enough on your plate to be going on with. Just be glad I was here for Arthur when he came with Gwenllian and landed in Christopher’s lap, and I’m here for you. That may be as good as it gets.”

  Most of the time, Mark didn’t think too hard about what he’d been caught up in. He kept his head down and did the job. But the magic surrounding Anna was a part of him now too. Earlier, he’d declared, as she had, that whatever was happening here was about David. But on consideration, he didn’t believe that was entirely true. It was about Anna too. And Meg. And Callum and all the rest of the time travelers without whom David could never have saved Wales, never mind become King of England.

  And it had been Anna who’d been driving the day they’d saved Llywelyn from his English attackers. It was important not to forget it.

  Mark led Anna down an alley and through the side door of a five-story building comprised of high-end flats, each taking up one floor of the building. Callum had established safeguards upon safeguards, as he would, but Mark had the key and the keycode and the proper thumbprint and eyeball, and ten minutes later, he was closing the door of the expensive flat behind them.

  It looked just like he’d left it when he’d come by here last week to stock the refrigerator. For fifteen months he’d done it every week, on his own time, taking multiple forms of transport and avoiding cameras, all the while telling himself the day Meg showed up and needed cream in her coffee, he’d have it on hand. He didn’t know if Anna drank coffee, but he was ready if she did. “Not everyone knows what to look for in a safe house, and not every flat you might think is safe really is.

  “What you need is a place on the third floor of a large building with multiple entrances. Ideally, it would have its own parking garage with more entrances, but Callum chose this spot because the building is full of part-time tenants, many of them international, so long absences aren’t remarked upon. The building has excellent security but no attendants, which is rarer than you think, and it’s near a tube station and multiple bus stops. We’ll be safe here.”

  “I believe you.” Anna came to a halt at the kitchen island, part of a large great room. The window was framed by the deep blue curtains and opened onto a garden, beyond which were beautiful buildings. They were a stone’s throw from Kensington Palace and Hyde Park.

  Because … Callum.

  It wasn’t just David who’d had destiny thrust upon him. Callum had done his best in the modern world, but it hadn’t been until he’d traveled to the medieval world that he’d come into his own. David had made him the Earl of Shrewsbury, and Mark was pretty sure that was his real identity, not the mild mannered MI-5 agent he’d been in Avalon.

  Anna walked forward. Mark hadn’t yet turned on the lights in the flat because the moment he did, the two of them would be visible to anyone outside. The outside lights were bright enough to lift the room’s shadows, however, shining in from faux-Victorian lamp posts lining the road. Anna leaned her forehead against the pane to look down at the garden. “What am I doing here, Mark?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Mark resisted the urge to move her away from the window and draw the curtains. For now, nobody knew they were here, and she’d had a really long day. She deserved a moment of peace. “We’ll get you home again.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to promise it to her, but she wasn’t a child who needed those kinds of promises. She knew nearly as well as he did the obstacles facing her. ‘Controlled chaos’ was a kind way to put what she, Meg, and David experienced every time they returned to Avalon. There was no reason to think this time would be any different. It already wasn’t.

  But he was surely going to try to make it so. “Let me get you settled, Anna. I have work to do, but you’re knackered and in pain. You need sleep.”

  Anna acted like she hadn’t heard him and continued to stare through the glass, though after a moment, Mark detected a hint of a nod.

  “How are you going to cover this up?” Anna still hadn’t left the window. “I rode a horse into Westminster Palace. I had contact with upwards of fifty people in two hours, including that detective.”

  “Let me worry about that,” Mark said.

  “Too late.”

  Mark smirked. Back at Caernarfon, Mark had not-so-nobly volunteered to stay in the twenty-first century in order to be David’s eyes and ears in Avalon. He’d been totally up front that he was doing it as much for himself as for Callum or David, and neither of them accused him of being selfish or judged him for not wanting to stay in the Middle Ages. But as the months had gone by, he’d been forced to acknowledge how little he really could do for them.

  Mark had promised he’d
protect their interests in this world, and so far he’d gone above and beyond to do exactly that, even to the point of contacting Anna’s family outside of normal channels to arrange a way to communicate that wouldn’t be monitored. He had guarded the safe house. He’d bought disposable mobiles. He’d wiped every mention from the internet of anything to do with their time travel and helped deep six the Time Travel Initiative. The real question now, and he had a nervous curl in his stomach just thinking about it, was whether or not it had been enough.

  He took in a deep breath through his nose. He really did have work to do, not the least of which was covering their trail, and for that he was going to need Livia’s help. She should have reached Thames House by now and returned the vehicle. He was a little embarrassed, in fact, that her tradecraft was better than his. He thought he’d learned enough in the months he’d been here alone, but at heart he was a computer hacker, not a spy.

  A half-hour later, having showered and changed into pajamas he’d bought and left in a drawer in one of the bedrooms for exactly this purpose, Anna was asleep. Ten seconds later, after opening his laptop, Mark’s mobile rang. It was Livia.

  “How are you calling me?”

  “I’m using an old computer and routing the signal through thirty-two countries. I’m not completely ignorant, you know.”

  “I’m just being cautious. How’s it going?”

  “Fortunately, the rotation for the parking garage ends at four in the morning, so the same guard wasn’t on duty. I waved my badge and entered.”

  “What about the GPS tracker?” Mark fingers itched to access the server remotely, but he knew it was a bad idea even before Livia gave a low laugh.

  “You know we can’t fix that. I could corrupt all the data since the backup at two, but GCHQ has forensics that can trace the source of any meddling.”

  “And we can’t have that, because then they might find my Trojan in the satellite software—and then I’d be truly screwed.” Mark took in a breath and spoke into the pause that followed, “Thank you for all you’ve done. I’m still hoping you can be protected.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “How’s Anna?”

  Mark allowed Livia to drop the subject. He’d brought her in—or allowed her to force her way in—because he needed help, and here she was, helping. He had no right to complain. “I gave her a pain pill and a sleeping pill from the medicine cabinet. By the time she was out of the shower, the drugs kicked in. She didn’t have a chance.”

  Livia’s breathing hitched. “She’s not a child, Mark.”

  “I didn’t treat her like one. It’s what I’d do if she were an agent coming in from the cold, isn’t it? I’m impressed she was getting out of the hospital by herself, and even without us I think she would have managed that part just fine. But that’s why we need her fresh and thinking in the morning. God knows we aren’t going to be.”

  “How do you know what you’d do if she were an agent?”

  “You’ve never met Callum, Livia, but he was the best, the very best, and he trained me. Just because I never ran agents doesn’t mean I don’t know how to.” He got to his feet and went to the kitchen to get himself a coffee. He pressed the button and was momentarily mesmerized by the gurgling of the water. “And you … there’s more to you than in your file, isn’t there?”

  Through the phone he could hear her start up another one of the computers in her office—or his. “What do you mean?” She sounded very wary.

  “Your file says this is your first posting, but it isn’t.”

  The pause before Livia spoke was longer this time. “Yes, it is.”

  Mark scoffed. “If you want me to trust you any further, you’re going to have to come clean on this. I’ve guessed some things, but I want to hear the rest.” Livia drew in a breath, but when she still didn’t answer, Mark added, “You aren’t the only one who knows how to read between the lines, and you are far too competent an agent to be a lowly tech in my division. Which means you were sent either to spy on me or as punishment for something you did. I have been assuming the former, but after today I’m thinking it’s the latter.”

  “I’m not here to spy on you.” Livia’s response was immediate. “I was part of a team for a year and a half in the Balkans office. I was the technology specialist.”

  “How old were you then—twenty-three?”

  Livia voice was steady. “Twenty-two.”

  Mark couldn’t help but laugh. She was so young. “What happened?”

  “An operation went bad. I was blamed for failures that weren’t mine, but I was expendable, so they fell to me.”

  “Why weren’t you fired?”

  “Because it wasn’t my fault, and my supervisor knew it.”

  Mark laughed with actual humor. “So they sent you to the Island of Misfit Toys.”

  Her silence was telling. “You’re not angry?”

  “Of course I’m angry, just not at you. Is anything in your file true?”

  “I did graduate from Cambridge.”

  “That’s to be expected if you were recruited by Five.” He went back to the lounge and sat in front of his laptop. “What was your impression of Anna?”

  “It really isn’t appropriate to say after such a short interaction.” But then she proceeded to modify her initial demurral. “She was very subdued in the car, which could have been a product of drugs and pain. I saw a tear or two, but otherwise she conveyed a quiet acceptance of what has befallen her. You spoke of returning her to the Middle Ages, and her jaw firmed, just for a second. She’s determined. But if she’s distressed inside, she’s doing a good job of keeping a lid on it.”

  “She is distressed, but she’s always been good in a crisis.”

  “So I understand, but she’s not a soldier, and we can’t expect her to be one.”

  “I’m not a soldier either. That’s why I’m here instead of there.” Mark stared at the wall for a moment. “Again, unlike you, perhaps?”

  “I’ve had the usual training for someone who spends any time in the field.”

  “I bet.” He bobbed his head in a nod, though of course she couldn’t see it. “Good to know.” He checked his watch. “I should let you go. We don’t want any one call to last more than a few minutes.”

  “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but really, you shouldn’t bother. I have this end covered. I’m far more concerned about what’s going to happen to you.”

  “I was serious about selling me out, Livia. If the choice is between you and me, choose yourself. I’m the one who put a Trojan in the software. I went to the hospital. You were just along as a driver.”

  Livia was silent for a moment. “I’ve been too busy to think very far ahead, but how are you going to come back from this?”

  Mark paused before speaking, because saying out loud what needed to be said made it real, and he hadn’t been ready to do that. “I don’t know, Livia. All this time, I’ve been hoping to skate under the radar, but I can’t do that any longer. Anna and her family are real people. After this, there will be no more hiding.”

  Chapter Nine

  19 March 1294

  Bevyn

  Dawn did not bring Anna home nor offer any resolution to the problems that faced them. Before dawn, they’d ridden to Heledd’s house, but when Anna did not appear along the way, and the rider Bevyn sent back to Dinas Bran returned with no news, they were forced to accept that what they were doing was tracking Anna rather than finding her. And with that thought, Math reached the conclusion that in the dark they might trample over evidence of Anna’s passing. So they rested at Heledd’s cottage until first light and then left again with the intent of retracing Anna’s exact steps.

  If Anna had been a regular midwife and not a princess—and hadn’t promised her young son she would try to be at home when he awakened—she might have spent the entire night at Heledd’s house. Fortunately, mother and baby were doing well, though Heledd immediately expressed guilt that her child’s birth had exposed Anna to dan
ger. Math told her they all felt guilt. As Anna’s husband, her welfare ultimately rested on his shoulders, however, and it made no sense for anyone else to take on the responsibility that was his.

  Bevyn, in truth, didn’t disagree. Anna’s welfare was Math’s responsibility, even if her loss wasn’t his fault. That lay resolutely on the shoulders of the one who’d ordered her abduction.

  With the coming of day, the fog lifted, and the sun shone weakly through a low cloud cover. “Here. This is where I veered off the road.” Mair pointed to the spot and then turned in the saddle to look in the other direction. “Princess Anna kept going back the way we’d come.”

  Bevyn trotted his horse along the road, his eyes on the ditch to the southeast of the road and the trees beyond it. A crumbling stone wall lined the road on the other side. Because Math was in no condition to do so, Bevyn made a mental note to discover what farmer claimed these fields and why he’d allowed the wall to crumble. There were no sheep or cattle in the field, but it was far less costly to maintain what was already built than to tear down an existing wall and rebuild it. Just because the field wasn’t in use today didn’t mean it never would be again.

  He turned back to Mair. “Where are the bodies of Anna’s guard? You said they fell in the onslaught.”

  “They did.” Mair dismounted and paced out the steps. “It was dark, so I’m not certain of all the particulars, but they came around the bend and ran into us.”

  Bevyn and Math’s company had come through here on their way to Heledd’s, but in the dark, Mair hadn’t been as sure of the terrain as she appeared to be now.

  Bevyn dismounted too and walked with her to the curve in the road where the assault first began. The earth had been churned up by many horses’ hooves, and the tracks crisscrossed one another to the point that it was impossible to tell which were the result of alien hooves and which were theirs.

  Then Bevyn stepped to the edge of the road where bits of grass grew. Sections were flattened, and as he looked closely, he could see boot prints. He followed the tracks into the trees. Here, the soil was less soft, but once Bevyn knew what he was looking for, the prints were evident.