“Fetch her fresh water,” Master Lewis commanded.
Tristan bolted out of the room, almost running into the two women that now stood by the door.
One was older and well built, like she had seen and done everything a woman of her age would have; her brown, curly hair heavily streaked with white and pulled back in a bun atop her head. The apron around her waist was pristine, while the rough, copper-red of the rest of her garments and skirts fell from her heavy-set breast. The girl next to her was just that. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen and donned the same clothes as her counter-part, though they sat much better on her. Her ginger hair was accompanied by freckles that lined just under her eyes and subtly dotted across her nose. A layer of baby fat sat around her face, though the rest of her looked as skinny as a leaf.
“Haf. Elian. This is…” Master Lewis looked to me. In all the confusion and terror and pain they had not even thought to ask my name.
“J-J-Jade Morrison,” I stuttered out. The older one, Haf, gave me a quaint smile and a nod, while the girl, Elian, beamed.
“Ah, Jade. It suits you well.” I didn’t react. How could I when I didn’t know how I should? Master Lewis continued on. “She is to be a guest of Lord Gruffydd’s. She is not familiar with our culture so try and give her some guidance in how to greet His Lordship and Her Ladyship when she meets them.”
Both women curtsied while Master Lewis smiled. “Elian, can you hand me a needle and thread? I need to mend the stitching on her skin.”
The girl nodded and came around, a small bag in hand.
“Ah, perfect.” He took his time rummaging through and then threading the needle. I was about to protest the procedure when his hand passed over the wound and somehow I couldn’t feel as the needle started its process.
The captain returned with my water just as the master finished up, the cup’s contents ice cold as it washed the dryness from my mouth and throat.
“We will leave you to get dressed. There will be plenty of time to ask and answer questions.” The master’s bones creaked as he stood. If I wasn’t still scared shitless I would have tried to give him a hand, hesitant that he could break at any minute.
Tristan stood there for a couple more seconds.
I hadn’t even realized he had my bag until he set it down onto the trunk, then bowed to me and the two maids, and took his leave.
Once the door shut, both women relaxed, their demeanors changing now the men were out of the room.
“Ack, did you see the captain? As red as a cherry! I have never seen him in such a state!” Elian shrieked with pleasure. “I wonder what happened…?” She looked at the sheen smock that revealed the lines of my body and jumped to a conclusion. “Guess he couldn’t handle what you’ve got under that sheath of your’s, eh?” Her Scottish voice was high pitched as she giggled and nudged my ribs, causing a spasm of pain in my sides.
“Hush now, child, can you not see the girl has not fully healed?” Haf’s Welsh accent sounding harsh with the reprimand. She went to the wardrobe and pulled out some materials: a piece of faded copper cloth, another that looked like my white robe, and a third of green silk. She laid them all next to me on the bed.
“When you have the chance put these on. They are warmer than the night clothes you are wearing now.”
I stared at the collection she had placed beside me, feeling the thick layers of fabric that would wholeheartedly protect me from any of the cold elements.
“Thank you.” I couldn’t exactly make out what I was supposed to do. I got the gist that I was to wear them but there was no start or end to indicate where I was to put my arms or head. My confusion must have been evident on my face as Haf reclaimed the cloth.
“Stand up and we shall help you.”
Embarrassed and still a bit slow, I stood and stripped off my sleeping robe, my arms unsuccessfully trying to cover my breasts and private part.
“No use covering those up, dear. You are among women.”
Haf was right. I lowered my arms.
Elian replaced the robe with a look-a-like. It clung to my body tighter and was made of a heavier material. Next they put another white dress on top. This one’s sleeves reached down to my knuckles and I was about to protest its length when they took the metallic copper fabric and draped it over me, fastening it to the underlayer. The neckline, which had earlier been lost in all the dress’s folds, became apparent, its boat neck cut sitting well on the ends of my shoulders. It was beautiful. A linked chain design ran along the border with thin, gold thread. Haf huffed as she wasn’t able to cover the cut on my collar bone, the black stitching stark against my skin.
Moving to the sides, they instructed me to hold out my arms and with the remaining dangling ties, fastened the sleeves in place. After that they adjusted the white underlayer, pulling it so that it no longer touched the back of my hands. Last but not least, Haf connected the long, dark green silk sleeves that flowed smoothly with my movement to the back of my shoulders.
I stood there in awe of the sheer amount of layers I was wearing, but also because in the shiny polished sheet of brass in front of me, there was no more evidence of me being from the twenty-first century. Now I looked like a regular woman from the medieval era.
“You look beautiful, Milady,” Elian beamed behind me. In one hand she held a brown, soft leather belt, and in the other, a blue ribbon.
“Here, put this ’round your waist and then come and sit on the bed. I need ta fix your hair.”
I did as she instructed, running on autopilot to what was happening around me. By the time my hair was fastened, the blue ribbon was intertwined in the same pattern as the design around my neck. Finally, they pulled on a pair of ankle high leather shoes. The oval forms clung to my feet, only interrupted by the comforting wool on the inside for warmth.
Haf and Elian surveyed me.
“I think she will do,” Haf smiled.
“I think she is perfect!” Elian exclaimed. She came over to give me a hug, but I recoiled, the cut still tender. She stuck there, as if I were a wild animal waiting to trust my rescuers. It took a moment, but I finally relaxed enough to do so. I looked at the finished product of myself. The dress was more comfortable than I would have thought.
“Here,” Elian handed me a still steaming bowl, “you haven’t eaten in a couple days, on account of you sleeping.”
No wonder I was light-headed. I took it and looked at its contents. They were familiar: beef, carrots, potatoes, swede, leeks. It was cawl, the first dish I had eaten upon my arrival in Lampeter. A few tears escaped at the nostalgia of it all as I shoveled the food into my mouth, the hot broth scalding my tongue.
I can’t handle this! I thought, breaking away from the meal. I tried to anchor onto something I could manage, something tangible—something normal.
The thought was shaken from me as Master Lewis knocked on the door and when he and Tristan came in, they rejoiced at my newly assimilated attire.
“Now,” the master started, “you must have questions.”
I placed the half-empty bowl onto the side table. If there was ever a time to be blunt, now was it. “What time is it?”
“It is the year 1350 anno domino, Milady. In the time of our King Edward the III,” the captain replied.
I took in his words and as much as I wanted to accept them. My mind reeled with the infinite possibilities of it being untrue; that I had suffered extreme blood loss when Paul had attacked me and I was just dreaming this whole situation up.
Panic rose in my throat and constricted it, leaving my mouth dry. I could barely get the next question out. “Where exactly am I?”
“South Wales. Llansteffan Castle to be exact.” Haf moved to my side and placed her hand on top of mine in an effort of comfort. The tears started to flow more freely and Master Lewis handed over his handkerchief. I took it half-heartedly and fiddled wi
th it instead of putting it to its intended use.
“How did I get here?” I whispered.
“What we know,” Master Lewis spoke, “is that you traveled through time. A rare feat, but possible none-the-less.”
“What do you mean possible? Time travel isn’t possible.”
“Oh I beg to differ. For the past millennia, Man has been able to bend time, though it is not a common practice. Only Exalted Witches are able to produce such results as yours. When did you come from?”
“The twenty-first century,” I shot out numbly. “But, I was in the archives. Paul was there, he…”
He what? Gave me a book. What did he do? My mind drifted, trying to process this information. But I knew there was one thing I needed to absolutely know.
“How do I get back?” My steely gaze shocked the master, his composure broken at the crack of my voice.
“I do not know,” he replied honestly. “I do not even know how you came to travel here in the first place. Well, actually, the obvious answer is by magic.”
That made me falter. Everything he had explained up to this point had made it clear, but I thought it was an age-old term that I wasn’t understanding correctly, not actual magic.
“I’m sorry… Magic?” I-I really can’t…
Master Lewis could see the panic and confusion that played on my face. “Yes, it is what rules the order of the world.” He stated it so blatantly, as if it was common knowledge that the world was somehow controlled by mystical forces. Now it was his turn to be confused. “Do you not know of what I speak?”
A headache thrummed its way into my brain, my ears ringing, making my eyes unfocussed. “Can everyone just leave me for a bit?” I asked in a huff.
All four of them hesitated, but it was on Master Lewis’s commanding nod that they finally left. “I will be waiting in my laboratory for your arrival. Have Elian bring you when you are ready.” He shut the door silently behind him, leaving me to my thoughts.
I ran to one of the windows on the far side of the room and looked out in search of something, anything, anyone that could help me, but all I saw in place of cars were the shuffle of carts, cattle pulling them this way and that. There was no more forest intersecting between the castle and shore line, now it was a bare field. The beach that had been pristine in my time was dotted with small ports, its occupants readying ship after ship to sail onto the choppy water.
The crashing notion that I was really stranded in 1350 Wales dawned on me. But what was worse: There was no one who could help me out of here.
XIV.
I passed through the rest of the day in a daze. Only hours after Master Lewis had left had I agreed to Elian taking me to see him. What he lacked in tact he made up for with insanity, and I just couldn’t handle that so early in the morning.
The castle was gorgeous, its stone walls were covered in a layer of beige stucco, a design that had crumbled away when I had first seen it in the twenty-first century. The hallways were dark, though natural sunlight streamed in while torches were positioned throughout to make up the difference. Vibrant colors of wood, tapestries, and people stood out against the gray day. While we made our way through, my presence stirred those around like bees attracted to honey. Their stares followed me all the way to the master’s study and only once I closed the door behind me did my nerves calm.
Master Lewis was waiting for me.
“Thank you for finally arriving, Lady Jade, you look lovely. Please, sit down.” His impatient tone wasn’t lost on me as he motioned to me to sit.
I took the chair positioned beside a short coffee table (as I would have called it) though it was hardly a good comparison. The legs were shorter than your average coffee table, its ends designed like claws while the top was littered with different vials, all containing a range of colorful liquids.
Master Lewis’s study was exactly what I was expecting. A well-organized line of bookshelves edged the walls, their spines pointed inwards instead of out, a sign that only he would be able to find what he needed from its contents. What really peaked my interest was that none of them were chained. I had read in countless textbooks and gone on too many museum tours that talked about how valuable medieval manuscripts were locked up, hence the ball and chain, yet here there was nothing.
“Why aren’t your books chained up?” I was too interested to let the subject lie.
“Excuse me?” he asked, a bit offended.
“Your books. Aren’t they valuable? You wouldn’t want them stolen…”
“I am not sure about the procedure where you are from, but here, books are never to be bound in such a way. Anyone is entitled to learn as they please. No matter how disapproving the Brotherhood is about it. We are not a censored community!” He strangled the papers in his hand until he recovered his temper and smoothed them out against his desk, which was also heavily carved and covered in parchments. Quills were scattered about, each tip coated in a different colored ink. When I looked back at the man in front of me I saw the same pigments had stained the tips of his fingers.
“Now, Lady Jade–”
“Jade. I don’t need a title.”
“I’m sorry Lady Jade, I am not intentionally trying to overwhelm you. I think your trip here and your earlier… treatment… has already been quite enough, but as you have no status in the court and are, essentially, an orphan of this time, Sir Rhys ap Gruffydd, Sheriff of Carmarthen—Lord Whichnor, as others know him—has taken you in as his ward, thus the title you have inherited as Lady.”
Orphaned again. It seemed a constant cycle in my life.
“Her Ladyship thought it safer to have you close by than to send you off elsewhere. As a result we could not have a single lady living in the castle without an escort or title, so we decided it was for the best if you became Lady Jade ferch Gruffydd.”
“Gruffydd? Why not use my own last name?”
“Again, it is a matter of title. By having His Lordship’s and Her Ladyship’s surname you are entitled to additional benefits that others do not have. You will not be expected to work as Elian or Haf do; since you come from no home with no trade, you need not worry about income; and in the event that if you were to be married, your dowry would be well taken care of.”
“Whoa, hold up!” I jumped to my feet, unmoving in my advocacy. “What?”
“It is just an example,” he tried to say lightheartedly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that if it really came down to it, they would seriously sell me off to someone.
I sat back down, my back ramrod straight as I ran through the situation. Was I now part of the lineage of the Gruffydd’s or still a Morrison?
I wish Mom and Dad were here.
The thought of my parents sobered me up. I knew what I had to do, had wrestled with the fact for hours before coming here: I had to acclimate to the times and find a way back home.
This would be every anthropologist’s dream, to live in another time and study it. I can do it… Though I was up for the ethnographic experience, to accomplish anything I would need all the help I could get.
Before I could say another word he was on his feet, studying my face intently. “You were asleep for two days, enough time for all the proper paperwork to be filled out and signed with His Lordship’s and Her Ladyships sealed approval.” Producing the exact parchment, he held it out to me until I took it and had a look for myself. The document was written in Latin, as I would have guessed, with a blob of red wax at the bottom, three ravens embedded within. He moved on before I could ask any more questions.
“Now, you are supposed to be an Exalted Witch, so what is your magic level? Have you finished your training?”
Now I was the one standing again, this time pacing the short cupboard of dried herbs and liquid vials. Could this day get any weirder? I answered my own question: Obviously it could. “I need you to explain this to me. Magic doesn’t exist,”
I argued. My wits were growing startlingly short by the second.
“Of course it does. It is used every day.” His face was lined with worry and surprise. “How do you think we are able to communicate at this moment? Because I used the Tafod spell on you.” There was that tone again, assuming you just knew what he was talking about. “Do you not have magic whence you come from?”
“No, magic is fiction, something only done in the movies.” I paced too sharply by a free-standing pillar the height of my leg and managed to knock over a mechanical object. Master Lewis winced as it hit the floor. “Sorry.”
“No matter,” he carefully picked it up and set it into another corner of the room, away from where I could touch it. “Am I to then conclude that magic is not a common practice in the future? That you know nothing?”
“Definitely not,” I snapped my mouth tight. Am I even supposed to be saying this? I bit my lip contemplating the repercussions. After a minute’s thought, I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse not to. “We think of it as something to entertain children with at bedtime.” It struck me as odd. How many times had I wished I had superpowers or something, anything, that could make me special? I mean, who doesn’t?
“But you are an Exalted Witch… You are supposed to save us…” His drained face became almost transparent with his disappointment. “You must since you are here.”
Actually a manic archivist sent me here… I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Why do you have magic?” I shot back.
“We have always had the craft. Ever since Man was created. Adam and Eve were enticed by a talking snake; the Egyptians built monuments to heights no one person could imagine; the Holy Emperor of Rome was crowned. Throughout history magic has played a pivotal position.”
“I’m sorry, you’re telling me the most important events in history, ones we believe to be based on pure fact were actually the product of what we think of as fiction? Impossible. There would be records, books galore about all this.”
“I do not see why this is so. Our records are fully stocked.” He went to one of the shelves and pulled a book from its casing.
To Those Who Never Knew (A Monksblood Bible Novel Book 1) Page 10