Venny raised a hand to speak again. “Once night falls, we can get closer; perhaps one or two of us could infiltrate the castle as peasants. With all those extra men, they need supplies like any other castle and hands to do the work.”
“Send me, my lord,” Constance said. “I can dress as a woman, and it might disarm them into letting us pass.”
They all turned at the high voice, some of Math’s men clearly not remembering that Constance had ridden with Ieuan. Bevyn thought letting women be soldiers was a runaway carriage he would have halted immediately if Dafydd had been willing to listen. Fortunately for Constance, Bevyn didn’t have a say, and most of the time, Constance served as Lili’s bodyguard. Ieuan had chosen her to come with him today for the same reason he’d chosen the men: because she was needed, and maybe for exactly this reason, though it hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind at the time.
Cadwallon frowned. “Entering the castle aside, my lord, I don’t know that all of us can stay here for very long without arousing suspicion, especially those of us who are Welsh. We can’t risk FitzWalter getting wind of our presence.”
Ieuan nodded, acknowledging that five years was not enough time to dissipate the hundreds of years of distrust between English and Welsh. “Venny, as a lord of Kinderton, you would be known to FitzWalter, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You know the politics up there better than I. Do you think you could get us into the castle?”
Venny took in a breath, but he nodded.
Math put a hand on Ieuan’s arm. “You know it can’t be you, right? You and I shouldn’t even stay here. We are both known to many in this region.”
Ieuan grimaced. It was one of the very few downsides of having spent the last ten years at Dafydd’s side. So he turned to his small company. “Lord Mathonwy and I will ride to Lyons Castle and reconnoiter with Warenne as he asked hours ago. Cadwallon, you will stay with those who remain behind here overnight, as support for Venny, and we will regroup in the morning. We need a complete accounting of everyone and everything that goes in and out of that castle.”
“What if an army marches tonight?” Cadwallon said. “We don’t know how close FitzWalter may be to implementing whatever he’s planned.”
“Then follow it, but you must send word to me as well,” Ieuan said. “Most importantly, we cannot let FitzWalter know we are on to him.”
“That means we should wait until dark to enter the castle,” Constance said.
Ieuan looked at Venny. “I won’t order you to lead the mission, but I am asking you to.”
Venny took in another breath and let it out, a little shakily, but his expression remained determined. “How many men should I bring with me?”
“Constance and Cador, Mathew—”
“And me!” Rhys put up a hand. “I’ll do it.”
Ieuan nodded. “God willing, we’ll see you in the morning.”
With the decision made, the men began preparing for what came next. Venny punched Mathew in the upper arm. “The women of this region are very pretty. Maybe you’ll get lucky at last and find one who favors you.”
Mathew snorted. “It’s a wonder Lord Ieuan chose you to lead us. One look at you and the guard will know you’ve never done a day’s work in your life.”
The two men walked away towards their horses, their bantering continuing out of earshot. Ieuan said to Math, who’d overheard as well, “It’s good they still have a sense of humor.”
Math nodded. “With the darkness that faces us, they’re going to need it.”
Chapter Twenty
19 March 2022
Anna
Uncle Ted was so excited he was practically bouncing up and down. “We’re here!” He pushed open the car door.
Andre graciously opened Anna’s door for her, but when she got out, unlike Ted, she didn’t feel like celebrating.
They were greeted by an Englishwoman dressed in jeans and a silk blouse and speaking with a BBC British accent. “Welcome to Treadman Castle. I’m Sophie Price, but please call me Sophie. We’re very informal here.” The follow car had also arrived, pulling up smoothly behind them. George and two other security men joined Andre and Sophie around Anna, Ted, and Mark. Nobody took Anna’s elbow or did anything threatening. It was more like they were intending to be protective.
Anna summoned a smile. She’d been a princess for long enough to be able to fake happiness when she needed to. In fact, she had a huge well of experience in smiling when she didn’t want to and being polite when she would have much rather expressed her real opinion. In those cases, rather than an uncomfortable encounter with an American tech genius, she would be required to make small talk with a Norman lord who thought Welshmen—and all women—were inferior to him.
She’d learned, however, in the last ten years, that changing people’s hearts was possible, and by being polite and keeping all but a fraction of her true thoughts to herself, often she and Math could nudge a man in the proper direction and even make him think an idea was his own. Was he resisting opening a school in one of his villages? It was often a matter of laying out all the ways an educated populace was going to bring more wealth to him. Was he dismissive of advances in agriculture or to planting potatoes? They could enumerate the more stable (and larger) yields other lords were experiencing. No lord liked being told his neighbor was doing better than he was.
So Anna could be gracious—and at the first opportunity, she could find her way to the topmost tower and jump off.
Then she laughed, which at least made Ted happy, though he wouldn’t be smiling if he knew what had amused her. In another woman, the idea of jumping off a tower would have sent friends and family running for a psychologist, thinking she had a death wish. But really, all Anna wanted to do was go home. It wasn’t only to escape what was happening here, either. She’d left her boys for a few days at a time in the past, even to come to Avalon, but that didn’t mean the ache in her heart at their absence was any less. Heaven forbid she ever had to get used to it.
For all that the outside was a near perfect replica of a medieval castle, the interior was decorated like a modern hotel with medieval leanings. Like Dinas Bran, the high ceiling was painted white, which nicely set off the varnished wooden beams supporting the floors above. Tapestries and oil paintings decorated the walls, and the floors and walls were made of stone. But the stone had to be a façade, hiding vents, pipes, and conduit, because the entryway was warm and well-lit. It was a castle with central heating and track lighting.
Andre had carried in Anna’s pack, and she thanked him, adding, “The castle is beautiful.”
Sophie made a deprecatory gesture. “I’m sure it’s nothing like you’re used to—” she cleared her throat, “—there.”
She was telling Anna she knew where she was from, prompting a genuine laugh from Anna. “No, it isn’t. I love Dinas Bran, but there’s something special about being truly warm in winter.”
Sophie continued to smile, though it became somewhat fixed, and her eyes were a little too wide. Perhaps the reality of meeting someone from the Middle Ages was a bit different from the theory. Still, she led them to an elevator, which took them up two floors. Anna didn’t bother to comment that they didn’t have elevators at Dinas Bran either.
But Uncle Ted was thinking of it. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “When was the last time you were in an elevator, Anna?”
“I don’t remember, honestly. They’re … uh … low on our priority list, though really, they’re just a matter of winches and levers.”
Ted laughed. “I want to see one in the next castle David builds.” Then he paused and said more thoughtfully. “Or I’ll tell him myself when I see him.”
Mark, meanwhile, had brought out his phone and was working furiously on it, his fingers flying across the screen. Sophie’s eyes kept flicking to him, and finally she said, “The password is Cilmeri82 with exclamation marks for the I’s. You don’t have to hack into our
network.”
Mark looked up. “Oh, I wasn’t. I was checking in with someone.”
Anna looked at his screen, though he had it dimmed down so low she couldn’t make anything out. “How are things?”
He gave her a baleful look. “They don’t appear to know where we are, and they’re frantic about it.”
“That’s good, right?” Uncle Ted said.
As the doors to the elevator opened, Mark gave him a wry smile. “Inquiries are being made. They’re trolling through records for flats in Kensington, pulling footage from CCTV cameras, and tracking cell phone pings. Livia has been questioned and her office scanned, though not yet searched.” He cleared his throat. “They have my real name.”
Anna stopped in the middle of the corridor they’d just entered and stared at him. “Oh no. That means they’ll have everything, including my family.”
“Yes.”
“Lord, that was fast.” Uncle Ted was looking less happy and a lot more anxious all of a sudden.
“Before he left, Tate and I did a very thorough job destroying records, but there’s every possibility they’ll demand answers from him. I’m sorry, Ted. You were on the bus with Anna and me. We’ll be reeled in, one way or another.”
Andre, who’d stayed this whole time beside Anna, put a hand to his ear. “Elisa and Elen are out of London now. The driver believes he picked them up early enough that MI-5 was not on to them yet.”
“They’ll be here for dinner,” Sophie said brightly.
Ted let out a breath, and his expression became a little less tight.
“What about Livia?” Anna said. “How come they aren’t tracking her talking to you?”
“Right now she’s contacting me from a surplussed computer, running the messages through several dozen countries to hide her location and mine. That might not last long.” Mark’s eyes were worried as he read the latest text. “They’ve completely shut out our section on this, so all she’s getting is bits and pieces, and she has retreated to her office.”
“Can’t she delete everything about us?” Anna felt she should have thought to ask that question ages ago.
“These systems are automatic,” Mark said. “She could delete the record, but there are backups of backups. Keystrokes are recorded, along with computer identifications that can tell exactly which computer someone uses to do anything. Better to accept what cannot be changed and plan accordingly.”
George, who like Andre seemed to spend half his life listening to people speaking in his ear, held out his hand to Mark. “I’ll dispose of that, if you like.”
Mark typed, I’m destroying this phone. Get out now if you can, after which he typed in a string of numbers that hopefully meant something to Livia. Then he handed the phone to George. “Thank you.”
He nodded, while Sophie said, “Mr. Treadman is very focused on security. The UK has more CCTV cameras and listening devices per person than any country in the world. People are used to it, but they don’t realize all the ways they can be tracked.”
“People think they don’t care because they’re not doing anything illegal,” Mark said.
“Which at this point we’re doing?” Anna asked.
Mark made a maybe motion with his head. “That depends on your point of view.”
“It’s like we’re back to the bad old days,” Anna said. “The farther down this path we go, the more likely things are to go wrong.”
Mark nudged her elbow. “You’d think we’d be used to it by now.” He was trying to joke.
Anna managed a slight smile. After all they’d gone through together, he was like a brother to her. Time traveling had a way of clarifying everything and everyone around a person and making clear what was important. Maybe that was what Uncle Ted had been trying to get at, back at Callum’s flat.
“You’re safe here.” Andre was still with them. “You have my word.”
The elevator had taken them to a long corridor that was decorated much like the foyer at the castle’s entrance, except for the interior wall, which consisted of a bank of windows and faced west to let in the afternoon sun. What had looked like a solid square keep from the outside where the car was parked proved instead to be open in the center, with a garden on the ground floor. Every floor also had access to a balcony that overlooked the garden.
Sophie took them to a conference room, which took up most of the width of this level. It overlooked the garden and had its own balcony and bank of windows. When they entered, a man was seated at the end of a long, slightly oval, table. At the sight of them, he stood, grinning, and held out his hand. He was older than Anna had expected, in his late thirties, of average height, slender, with sandy-brown hair and brown eyes.
“I’m Chad Treadman. So glad you could join me.”
Anna reached for his hand out of habit and politeness, but as she shook, she found herself saying, “I wouldn’t have said we had much choice.”
Chad’s expression faltered, and he put his free hand on top of Anna’s so he was holding her right hand in both of his. “I’m sorry about that. I really just wanted to meet you. Ted has been keeping me up to date on the investigation into your arrival and disappearance.” He looked around at all of them. “You’ve had reassurances from my staff, but you truly are safe here. I wouldn’t let you stay if you weren’t.”
Anna gazed at him. He looked genuinely contrite, giving her sad eyes that made him resemble a puppy who’d just been kicked. “Thank you.” She wet her lips. “It’s been a crazy day.”
He perked up at her apparent forgiveness. “Hasn’t it, though!” He finally released Anna and turned to Mark, shaking his hand vigorously. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Mark blinked. “You have?”
“Of course! Of course! The man who made the sacrifice to stay behind!”
“That isn’t … quite what happened.”
Chad waved a hand. “You are too modest.”
Anna felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see Uncle Ted smiling gently down at her. “None of this is working out at all like I meant it to. If it wasn’t your choice to come here, please forgive me for presuming I knew best.”
Anna let out a long sigh. “It’s okay, Uncle Ted. It seems as if we really might be safe here, so you weren’t wrong.” Just then, one of the stark white walls went dark, and a moment later turned into a movie screen, the full height and width of the wall that it was on. A silent movie of what was unmistakably Snowdonia National Park began to play.
Anna also hadn’t missed the significance of the code Sophie had given Mark. Cilmeri82 could only be a reference to the place (Cilmeri) and year (1282) that Papa should have died and hadn’t because of her and David. Chad had made it the internet passcode for his personal castle. If it was indicative of his enthusiasm about history, Anna could understand, but it also felt creepy and stalkerish.
Andre approached. “Mark gave up his phone. Have you used yours?”
“No.”
Andre held out his hand. “You can never be too careful, especially now.”
Uncle Ted relinquished his too, and at this sight of Ted’s phone, Chad gave him a stern look. “You should know better!”
“It’s a burner like hers!” Uncle Ted protested. “How else was I supposed to talk to you? I wouldn’t bring my regular phone here. I left it in my car on the outskirts of London.”
Chad harrumphed. “The key to staying off the grid is to ditch all your electronics. They can be tracked, as our friend here well knows.” He clapped a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Laptop.”
Mark looked just a bit uncomfortable with the familiarity, but he managed a rueful smile. “It isn’t connected to anything.” He took it out of its bag and reluctantly relinquished it. “I wouldn’t have brought it otherwise.”
“Still—” Chad passed it off to Andre, sending Anna careening back towards distrust. “We’ll put it in a secure place until you need it again.” Then he rubbed his hands together. “We should get started! I’m so ex
cited you’re here!”
A far doorway opened, and three people came in wheeling food carts. They approached the table and began laying out the food they’d brought.
Chad gestured to the spread. “In all the excitement, I wasn’t sure you got lunch, and I didn’t know what you liked, Anna, or what you missed most. I had them bring a variety.”
He’d even ordered Welsh cakes, possibly in an attempt to make her feel at home, though the only reason she knew they were Welsh cakes was because of the fancy card that labeled them. To her, they were currant cakes, which admittedly the cook at Dinas Bran made in quantity every morning, and everybody ate with butter and honey at any time of day as a shot of energy. Those and the Eccles cakes, with their sprinkled sugar, looked excellent, and although Anna felt it might be a bit of a betrayal of David to cave so easily and over food, she took one of each and sat down at the table.
Chad rightfully took her acceptance of the food as a capitulation of sorts and grinned. “So … the pitch!”
He waved a hand at Sophie, who dimmed the lights and pressed another button so the windows darkened. Chad then whipped out a tablet and started working on it furiously, and the reason for the stark white walls became clear: the ceiling had turned into swirling sky, like they were in a planetarium, something Anna had gone to on a school field trip back in middle school. Big words suddenly plastered themselves on the wall in front of her. “TIME,” it read, “THE LAST GREAT FRONTIER.”
“I thought that was space,” Anna said.
Ted shushed her, and truthfully, Chad was so excited about the audio-visual tour through history he embarked them on—battles, cures for diseases, great people (she particularly noted he gave equal billing to women)—she didn’t have the heart to be snarky again. Ten minutes later, the lights came up.
“So—” Uncle Ted, who was sitting behind her, poked her in the shoulder. “What do you think?”
“What do I think about what?” She spun around in the chair to look at him. “Is that a pitch for investors?”
Chad looked a little uncomfortable, and Anna gave a cynical laugh. “Who have you showed it to?”
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