Shades of Time kobo

by Sarah Woodbury

  “Dafydd would not thank me if I let you ride out with your brother,” Bevyn said. “He is free to do what he does because you and Bronwen are safe here. You sent Constance as your representative, and that’s enough.”

  “What I want most is to hear from—” Bronwen cut herself off as Dinas Bran’s pigeon keeper approached with a vibrant expression on his face. She’d been about to say she wanted to hear from David.

  The man bowed, his Einstein-like white hair sticking up in a fluffy halo around his head. “My ladies. My lord.” He straightened and held out a trembling hand. “News.”

  Lili was on her feet in an instant. “When did it come in?”

  David always traveled with a dozen messenger pigeons, since the radio wouldn’t work across the Irish Sea. Though most were homed to London where Nicholas de Carew was holding the fort, a few were homed to Dinas Bran. David had sent one when he’d arrived in Dublin three weeks ago, and they hadn’t known if he wasn’t sending more because he was dead or because he was saving them for great need.

  “Just now, my lady.”

  Lili took the paper, and Bronwen came close to her side so she could read the message over Lili’s shoulder. Bronwen’s hands would have been shaking like Lili’s if she’d been the one to open it. Like all messages sent by pigeon, this one was short and to the point.

  Tara 3/18. We are alive/well. Rebellion among Irish/Norman barons. Scot involvement. Beware. Love D.

  David’s wording was at the same time both horribly specific and frustratingly cryptic. Bronwen was grateful the first words David had written told them the family was alive, but the rest was cause for true alarm. David would have known that, of course, and thus he’d written the note himself, despite his terrible handwriting. He could have designated someone else to write it for him, but he knew the sight of his hand would be a comfort to Lili.

  And if the handwriting didn’t make it clear enough that the message was from David, the use of many slashes and the American dating system 3/18 would have given it away. The English, even in the Middle Ages, put the day before the month.

  Lili’s face was white as she handed the piece of paper to Bevyn. “Scots again.”

  Bronwen glanced at the pigeon keeper, who was doing his best not to look at any of them, as no doubt he could tell the news could have been better. Hardly one to punish the messenger, she merely commented to him, “It says he wrote this yesterday.”

  “Yes, my lady. It’s only a hundred and fifty miles to Dublin from here. Perhaps the weather delayed the bird.”

  Bronwen still struggled with the concept of a bird that could fly forty or fifty miles an hour and keep it up for a day.

  Bevyn finished reading the note. “It can be no coincidence we have Scots in Ireland and Scots here. The two rebellions have to be coordinated.

  “Who has the power?” Bronwen said. “Is it really Balliol?”

  Bevyn shook his head. “I don’t know. But I have to think FitzWalter moved last night because he knows Dafydd is otherwise occupied.”

  “They could even think him dead,” Bronwen said.

  “But he lives.” Lili pressed the paper, which Bevyn had returned to her, to her heart. “We know something they don’t.”

  “We should send messengers to Ieuan and Math,” Bevyn said. “They need to know we received word from Dafydd.”

  Bronwen shook her head. “No, we shouldn’t.”

  Both Bevyn and Lili turned to look at her, and Lili said, “Why is that?”

  “As you implied a moment ago, we have information our enemies do not. They are moving because they think David is besieged—”

  “Or dead,” Bevyn amended.

  “Or dead,” Bronwen agreed. “That is why they have shown their hand. We don’t want them to stop or go to ground. With Anna safe in Avalon, we want them to move, and we can’t risk this information falling into the wrong hands.”

  “You have become very Welsh, my dear.” Bevyn’s growl this time was admiring. “How did we hold off the English for so many years? It wasn’t by confronting them in open battle. It was by waiting, biding our time, and then when the enemy was most exposed, when they’d fully committed to the fight—” he pounded his right fist into the palm of his left hand, “—we pounced.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  19 March 2022

  Anna

  It took them an hour just to get out of London, though they ultimately managed it without any untoward events, ending up in a countryside that at least had the benefit of looking more familiar to Anna. At first she thought they were following the Thames, but then she realized they were heading more north, maybe even following the old Roman road that in her day (meaning in the medieval world) would eventually take them to Chester—and with a slight detour, to Dinas Bran.

  Unfortunately, to reach Math she would have to not only traverse that road but seven hundred years and another universe. She had a vision of Math searching for her, much as Papa had searched for Mom and Anna herself when they’d disappeared from his life before David was born. He would be desperate, made all the more so by not knowing if she’d been captured or if she’d come to Avalon.

  And that’s if Mair managed to escape and tell him what had happened. Without her testimony, all Math would know was she’d disappeared off the face of the earth somewhere between Heledd’s house and Llangollen.

  Feeling worse by the second, Anna looked out the window, tinted, of course, which meant the cameras couldn’t see inside. She was upset for Mark, though he was taking his possible unemployment in stride. As always, he could not be parted from some electronic device. He had his new phone on his thigh, showing a map of England, with a little blue dot that was their vehicle, moving along a road.

  Cassie had navigated that way when she’d driven them around Caernarfon, but Anna hadn’t been involved, and she was reminded again how out of place she felt here. More than any of the other times she’d returned to Avalon, she felt as if she’d time traveled to the future.

  Still, she leaned in to get a closer look. “Where are we?”

  “Approaching Chalfont St. Giles,” Ted said, answering for Mark.

  “Of course we are,” Anna said under her breath, suppressing the urge to laugh at the typically English name, which could have come straight out of one of the Harry Potter books. “Okay. Why are we in Chalfont St. Giles?”

  “Because that is where Mr. Treadman lives when he’s in the UK,” Mark said, this time answering for Ted.

  Andre glanced at Anna in the rearview mirror. “No need to worry, miss. We are almost there.” He clearly meant to be reassuring, and he obviously knew where he was going, but Anna was wound so tightly her shoulders were starting to ache more than her wrist.

  Cradling her left forearm in her right hand, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. After three deep breaths, through which she forced herself to relax, she opened her eyes and looked again at Mark. So far, he’d been much calmer than Anna thought he had any right to be, and he’d abdicated his leadership role in taking care of her very easily. It was almost as if he welcomed the idea of being rid of her.

  “Why aren’t you worried, Mark?” Anna said.

  Ted was back to talking on his phone, and she kept her voice low so he couldn’t hear.

  “If I was, would it help?”

  She tsked through her teeth. “Treadman Global bought out CMI. Why don’t we think this is a trap?”

  “Because I have met Chad Treadman, and when your uncle started working for him, I did a vetting so complete I know the brand of fitted trunks his assistant buys for him. MI-5 has a dossier on him an inch thick. He’s unconventional and a genius, but he isn’t a traitor or a killer.”

  Anna felt a little better. “So you think this is for real?”

  “Like your uncle, Treadman is eager, not evil.”

  Ted hung up his call and turned to look at Mark and Anna. “If I hadn’t been worried about being tailed, I would have left all this for tomorrow. But I
want you to know before we arrive that I truly believe Chad Treadman can be an ally in this.”

  “And what is this exactly?” Anna said.

  “In coming to terms with the time traveling.”

  “So we’re not just here because it’s safe,” Anna said. “Chad Treadman—”

  “—is a visionary. I think he can help us.” Ted gestured expansively. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t trust him.”

  “Maybe he is trustworthy,” Anna shifted the pack on the floor so it rested more comfortably between her feet, “but enlisting the aid of an outsider makes me very uncomfortable. He’s an entrepreneur, not the government, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to want something from me.”

  “The government wants to control you,” Ted said. “Chad doesn’t care about power that way.”

  “Then he’s going to want to make money off the Middle Ages,” Anna said. “We’ve been down this road before—with the same corporation!”

  “It isn’t the same company anymore.” Ted made a motion with his head. “This isn’t like it was before. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever met.”

  Anna didn’t bother with a rebuttal. She wasn’t in a position to give one anyway, or get away, since she was hardly going to throw herself from a moving vehicle. Talking to Mark had made her feel momentarily better, but she was feeling again as if her uncle had betrayed her.

  The feeling only got worse when Ted added, “Anyway, Chad already knew you were here.” He twisted further in his seat and caught her good hand. “He didn’t come to get you at the hospital because he doesn’t work that way.”

  “How did he know?”

  Ted tipped his chin to Mark, who said, “Because he owns a dozen satellites he put into the sky himself.”

  Ted nodded. “He would never have abducted you. He only intervened at my request when MI-5 appeared to be close to taking you.”

  “So you have told him everything.” Outrage was giving way to resignation.

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to spook you,” Ted said.

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Anna was growing irate at their complacency. And she was really tired of sitting in this car. All of a sudden, the passivity was intolerable—as was the helplessness. “Whose side are you on, Mark? David’s going to kill me when he finds out about this.”

  Mark put out a soothing hand. “I’m on your side, Anna. Always.” He took in a breath. “But I haven’t told you everything either. MI-5 can never be the ally it once was. The Time Travel Initiative in its original form is dead, but I have reason to believe certain elements in Five—with the help of the CIA—have resurrected parts of it. You need my help, and I’ve given it, but it’s at a cost.”

  Anna’s anger was gone in an instant. “I’m sorry.”

  “This just came in from Livia.” He turned his phone so she could see the text. They arrived at the hospital right after we did. They know what we did.

  Anna leaned in to see Mark text back, Who’s they?

  Five.

  How did they know?

  I don’t know. I’ve shredded all the records I found.

  Do they know who I really am?

  I don’t think so. But they seem very thorough. I fear they will soon.

  A cold feeling swept over Anna. “She needs to run.”

  Mark snorted. “Run where? She works for MI-5. She knows how impossible it is to truly disappear.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re trying to do?” Anna said.

  The three men in the car sat silent for a count of five. And then Andre said, “We’re buying you time. That’s all.”

  “And that was before Livia texted me,” Mark said.

  She looked from one man to the other. “I should have gone straight up to the roof this morning and jumped off.”

  Uncle Ted shook his head. “You have a broken wrist. What would you have done if you arrived in a similar situation to here?”

  “I wouldn’t have had a horse,” Anna said tartly, “and there are no guns where I’m going.”

  “You could have fallen into a river, or tumbled down an embankment,” Uncle Ted said. “If you hurt your wrist more, what then?”

  “I’m not hiding in Chad Treadman’s house for six weeks until my wrist is healed!”

  Ted made a calming motion with his hand. “Nobody is saying you should.”

  “Besides which, you don’t have six weeks. I’m hoping for six hours.” Mark’s expression was very serious. “They know you’re here, and they know you’re with me. I do believe some of my security measures have worked. They don’t have Callum’s flat, and they don’t have our phones. If they knew where we were, they would have stopped us. Still, the hunt is on. It’s only a matter of time before they put the pieces together.”

  “Ted is right that you’ll lose your job?”

  Mark and Ted exchanged a quick look, and then Mark met her eyes. “It is worse than that. They are coming after you now, and they are going to keep coming. If you’d arrived on Hampstead Heath, the satellites would have caught it, so Five would know, but they would have had no grounds to chase you. Your arrival on a horse inside Westminster makes you a terrorist. Five will pursue you with every means at their disposal.”

  “But why?” The sound came out almost a wail.

  Andre answered this time, which made sense since he was the security expert. “This is the era of stopping acts before they start. That’s the Holy Grail, and you don’t get there with anything less than total commitment.”

  “Chad Treadman can help,” Ted said.

  “How?” Anna still felt belligerent, but with the government breathing down her neck, her choices were diminishing, if they hadn’t disappeared entirely.

  “I’ll let him tell you himself,” Ted said, “because here we are.”

  All the while they’d been talking, Andre had continued driving. With a spin of the wheel, he pulled the car smoothly off the road to arrive at what could only be described as a gatehouse. It even had a portcullis, though at a wave from the driver, the metal barrier slid quietly upwards, rather than being winched up by hand. The driveway wound its way up a hill through an oak and birch forest that extended from both sides of the road, before the car came out ultimately on a high plateau.

  Before them sat a castle, though like the gatehouse, it was completely modern. No detail had been spared on its external appearance, however, and it was as if every aspect of the medieval castle had been taken to its logical conclusion. There were towers and battlements, wall-walks, and an inner gatehouse, all built in stone, but the guard at this second gatehouse wore Kevlar and an ear piece, was heavily armed, and kept checking his tablet. He waved the car through with a flick of his hand.

  Andre drove the car underneath this second gatehouse tower, around a circular driveway, and parked in front of a great square keep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  19 March 1294

  Ieuan

  Math spoke low in Ieuan’s ear. “You, my friend, are very good at what you do.”

  It was late afternoon by now, and the search parties had converged on Beeston Castle—Ieuan because he’d followed the trail of the company, and Math because he could apparently read minds.

  Ieuan didn’t take his eyes off Beeston’s battlements, which he was studying through his binoculars. He’d found a spot on the top of a hill three-quarters of a mile to the south. It was the closest his company could get without calling undue attention to themselves. “I take little credit. Once we learned the riders crossed the Dee at Overton, the way was plain. What about you?”

  “One of FitzWalter’s soldiers died falling into a ravine. He had a tunic with the FitzWalter crest in his saddle bag.” Math proceeded to relate all that had transpired in the hours since Ieuan had last seen him.

  “I’m glad Anna is safe in Avalon.” Ieuan gripped his friend’s upper arm. His chest tightened to think about how it could as easily have been Bronwen these men had targeted�
��and she didn’t have the ability to time travel. “Anyone else would have been dead.”

  Math shot him an aggrieved look. “I don’t know that safe is the correct word.”

  “Better than being here. It was only a matter of time before the Scots grew restless, but that they’ve allied with English barons makes me very nervous.”

  “FitzWalter looks to be a very busy man.” Math held out his hand for the binoculars. The sun was well down in the west by now, the light glinting off the glass in the keep’s windows.

  “The traffic in and out of the gatehouse has been nearly constant in the last hour since we arrived,” Ieuan said, his hand itching to take the binoculars back.

  Beeston Castle was a mighty fortress built on a rock five hundred feet above the Cheshire plain. From the castle, the garrison could see for thirty miles in every direction, which was why Ieuan had ordered his men to approach cautiously, as Math had done. It was a fine thing to have a compatriot so completely trustworthy.

  Math put a hand on Ieuan’s shoulder. “We need to regroup.”

  “We found an abandoned barn at the bottom of the hill.”

  “I know. We’re there too.”

  Ieuan laughed and followed his friend down the trail to the barn. It was large enough to hold all thirty of the men they’d brought between the two companies.

  In their leaders’ absence, Math’s men and Ieuan’s men had brought each other up to date, even to the point that Rhys, Math’s tracker, had pulled the tunic in question from his saddle bag. Everyone stopped talking as soon as Math and Ieuan entered, and Math stepped to the center of the barn floor. “I am satisfied the company we are tracking is even now inside Beeston. The question before us is what we are going to do about it.”

  Venny was the first to speak. “Thirty men isn’t enough for a siege, my lord.”

  “Are we agreed the princess isn’t in there?” Cadwallon said. “We dare not do anything to endanger her.”

  “She’s in Avalon,” Math said, “I’m sure of it. But regardless, we need to think carefully about our next steps.”