by Paige Elwood
Chapter 11
Sarah awoke in a heap on the floor, disoriented. Her head throbbed, and she rubbed at her eyes. Where was she? The cold stone floor beneath her seemed familiar. But she was in a small tight space she did not recognize.
Slowly, the fog began to clear from her mind, and she realized that she was lying on the floor behind a large chair. She stood, using the chair to heave herself up from the floor. She peered around her, taking in her surroundings. She could scarcely believe it. It was as though the castle had been set up for a special event or medieval recreation. Opulent furniture filled the grand entrance hall, and were those royal guards at the door?
She hauled herself up, grasping the back of the chair. Her fingers dug into the sumptuous velvet fabric; bright regal red trimmed with gold. Rich tapestries graced the walls in every bright color imaginable. They were in impeccable condition compared to the medieval tapestries Sarah had encountered before.
On the few walls that were barren of tapestries, massive oil paintings hung in gilt-edged frames. Only moments ago, these walls had housed historical information posters.
Was it merely a moment ago? Had she fainted? Was this a dream? There were definitely no display cases around the castle. No security guards either, just what appeared to be actual soldiers stationed at the door. A girl in maid’s clothing came rushing into the room. When she spotted Sarah, who had taken a seat in the velvet chair, she let out a small shriek.
Sarah jumped up. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.”
The maid shook her head as if to clear the shock away. “No, no. You didn’t startle me. We’ve been waiting for you.”
She looked Sarah up and down, confusion creasing her brow. “You don't look like I expected.”
Sarah's own brow crinkled in confusion now. What had they expected? Was this an event she'd been invited to as a professor, and they expected her to look older? Sarah simply smiled at the maid and said, “I get that quite a lot.”
The maid looked Sarah up and down. “I expect you do. Do you always dress like a man?”
Taken aback, she decided it would be best not to answer that particular question until she figured out what exactly was going on.
“Well, come with me. I will show you to your room,” the maid said.
My room? Sarah thought. I have a room here? What about my hotel? I must be dreaming, so let's just go with it for now. This maid seems to know where I am expected to be, so I’ll just follow her.
The maid led Sarah through the castle and up a set of steep stone stairs at the far end of the building. The maid threw open the door to a vast, airy room with bare stone walls which housed a narrow bed, a broad wooden bookcase, a ceramic bowl, and goodness was that a chamber pot? Sarah moved towards it for a closer look. Yes, unquestionably a chamber pot.
How quaint, she thought.
“The Prince is busy today,” the maid said. “So, you can take your time and settle in. Dinner in the servant quarters is at 7pm, and the Prince and Princess’s first lesson is to begin tomorrow at 8am sharp.”
“Lesson?” Sarah asked. The maid looked at her sideways.
“Yes, a lesson: where you explain things to the Prince and Princess,” she said, articulating each word carefully.
Sarah smiled. “Sorry it's been an extremely long journey,”
The maid’s eyes softened a little. “Would you like me to bring you anything?”
Sarah thought for a moment. “No thank you. I think I’d just like to explore a little.”
“Just please stay out of the east wing. That’s where the Royal family spend most of their time.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially to Sarah, “And you don't want to get on the wrong side of the King.”
“I don't suppose I do,” Sarah said. “Thank you.”
The maid smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. Sarah took a seat on the lumpy bed that smelled a bit like a barn and gazed around the room.
Okay, Sarah, she thought. This is a little bit crazy.
It wouldn't have been the first dream Sarah had experienced that was based on history. But this seemed a little more vivid than she was used to. Although, perhaps all dreams were vivid when you were in them. Maybe it was only when you woke up that they became an ephemeral tangle of feelings and half-memory.
Perhaps every dream she ever had was vivid while it was taking place. Sarah got up from the bed and crossed the room to the bookcase. Despite its large size, it held only a handful of beautiful leather-bound books. She plucked one from the shelf and looked at its opulent leather cover. The title read: The History of Bohemia. She leafed through the first few pages, fascinated by it.
Sarah had studied many like it during both her tenure and her postgrad studies. This was certainly in the best condition she had ever seen. The crisp pages had not yet yellowed with time, and the deep, rich brown leather cover looked freshly created.
She turned the book over to inspect the back and lost her grip on it, dropping the heavy tome on her foot. She let out a small yelp as the corner dinged against the top part of her foot that was not protected by her shoe. Disconcerted by the fact that she could feel pain in this supposed dream, Sarah rubbed at the red spot on her foot that was rapidly turning into a purplish color. Could you get dream bruises? She gave her arm a little pinch. Yes, that definitely hurt.
Okay, so either the theory that you don't feel pain in dreams is completely incorrect. Or, I am not in Kansas anymore, she thought to herself. The ring on her finger burned hot, and she looked down. It had been behaving so strangely since she’d landed in Prague. She tried to remove it from her finger, but it wouldn’t budge. Perhaps the jetlag and the travel had made her fingers swell.
She took a deep breath. Okay, let's assess the situation logically, she thought. Is it possible that I've traveled back in time? Her gaze fell on the beautiful arched window that dominated the room and allowed a lot of sunlight in. She walked across to the window and gazed outside.
“Yeah, definitely not in Kansas,” she said to herself.
Through the window, she could see a bustling medieval market town lay just outside the castle walls. People milled around buying from the stalls, and horses and donkeys meandered everywhere.
How incredible, she thought. If this really was medieval Prague and she'd somehow traveled back in time, she had an amazing opportunity to learn the truth about life in medieval Europe. Her initial excitement faded as logic kicked in and she realized that she wouldn't be able to prove it or even explain it to her peers. Maybe she could write down her knowledge and hide it somewhere that she would find it in the future. It would certainly future-proof her career.
It took at least five minutes for her mind to hit on the fact that if she didn't know how she got here, then how would she know how to get home? Suddenly it seemed like a less exciting adventure and more of a terrifying predicament.
Anxiety swelled in her, and she put her head between her knees and concentrated on drawing her breath down into her abdomen. Having a panic attack is not helpful, Sarah, she thought.
She continued to take deep breaths until her heartbeat slowed and returned to normal. Okay, so I have minimal information to start with about how I got here and exactly what time I am in. It’s still possible this is a hallucination or a dream, so I should just go along with whatever happens and try and find out how to wake up or get home as soon as possible.
Feeling a little better but still slightly shaky, she stood and strode to the door. She might as well take a look around the castle. The maid had seemed to think it wouldn't be a problem as long as she stayed away from that east wing. Of course, that was exactly where Sarah wanted to be. Imagine the chance to get a glimpse into the life of a real medieval royal family? Still, it probably wasn't the best idea to get on the wrong side of a medieval king. That kind of thing tended to result in heads being parted from their bodies, and she’d rather avoid that fate.
She pulled the door open purposefully and stepped i
nto the corridor. Her footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and she paused for a moment, disoriented. She wasn’t sure which way to go and couldn’t remember which way the maid had brought her from. Suddenly she felt very small; the castle was huge, so how would she find her way around? Get a grip, she admonished herself.
She closed her eyes and pictured the modern version of the castle. Sections had been rebuilt and would perhaps not be exactly the same as the original, but she could work out roughly where to go. The view of the clock tower from her bedchamber indicated that she was facing west when looking out of the window.
So then, it stood to reason that she should turn left now and there should be some stairs. She followed her instincts and felt elated triumph when she reached the top of the stairs the maid had brought her up. She descended the stairs slowly, and then instead of exiting the castle or cutting through the great hall she had found herself in when she arrived, she turned right down a narrow passageway. If her estimations were correct, this would take her to the north wing of the castle, thereby avoiding any potential run-ins with the King or any of the royal family.
She passed a couple of other maids whose eyes followed her. The two of them whispered to each other as they went. Sara pretended not to notice them. An older man passed her further down, and he also stared as she walked by him. She really needed to get some different clothes. She felt like an alien with the way that people stared at her. She assumed tutoring was a paid position. Perhaps she could request an advance to buy clothes.
She peeked through open doorways into the rooms beyond. Most rooms appeared to be small utility rooms of some kind. One room appeared to be used for grinding wheat into flour, the next stored the sacks of flour, and the room beside that was stuffed full of ovens for baking bread. Her stomach rumbled, and she spotted a stone shelf which held a few loaves of bread. The bread looked a little misshapen, and she assumed they had been deemed not good enough for the royal family. Surely as an expected guest, it would be okay to take some bread?
She tore a large chunk from one of the loaves and bit down into the soft, delicious bread. It had the unmistakable tang of traditional sourdough bread. Sarah had paid an awful lot to buy bread like this from a local artisan baker. She seriously wished she had some butter to slather on top of the bread, but it was delicious anyway.
With the last morsel of bread still clutched in her hand, Sarah spun on her heel to leave the room, but then, she collided with a short and burly looking soldier. He wore thick leather armor, and he had a menacing-looking sword strapped to his side. His face had an angry, purple jagged scar that ran from his left temple to his cheekbone.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Sarah said, taking a couple of steps back.
“Who are you?” The guard grabbed her by the shoulder, fingers digging into her flesh. She winced and tried to pull away, but he held her fast.
“I’m the tutor,” Sarah said, breathlessly.
The guard’s brow creased in confusion. “What tutor?”
“The tutor that you were expecting today. For the Prince?”
“If you’re the tutor, why are you stealing bread from the bakery? And why are you dressed like a man?” He looked Sarah over again. “A very peculiar man, I have never seen garments quite like this.”
He shook Sarah roughly. “Who are you?”
“I am the tutor,” she insisted, the words sticking to her mouth like cotton.
“Come with me,” the guard said, marching her forcefully back the way she came from, through the great hall and towards the main door.
“Where are you taking me?” Sarah shrieked. Tears of desperation prickled in her eyes.
“Guard!” A loud, authoritative, female voice stopped the soldier in his tracks. “What is going on?”
The guard paled and turned. Sarah looked to see the owner of the voice. A diminutive brunette with an intricately braided hairstyle and a golden tiara perched atop her head strode towards them.
“Your Majesty. I found this… woman… roaming the corridors and she can’t explain who she is,” the guard said, voice wavering.
“I did explain, I’m the tutor,” Sarah said firmly. Was it rude to speak to a Queen like that? She assumed this woman was the Queen, as the guard looked like he might wet his pants at any moment. His fingers were still almost touching bone, he held onto her that hard.
Queen Natasha looked Sarah over, her nose wrinkling at the sight of her clothes. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Sarah thought fast. This might be crucial to her keeping her head. Or at the very least her warm bedchamber. “I wear these clothes to travel. It’s common in my land for women traveling alone to wear men’s clothing to avoid… unwanted attention.”
The Queen raised an eyebrow. “When did you arrive?”
“A few hours ago.”
“Yet you haven’t changed?”
“My carriage was attacked by bandits. They stole my bags and my money. The driver wouldn’t bring me the rest of the way because I couldn’t pay him,” Sarah’s voice broke on the last sentence, overwhelmed at her situation.
The Queen frowned at the guard. “Let her go, she’s no threat to anyone here.”
The guard released her and walked away, but Sarah heard him muttering under his breath. She rubbed at her shoulder where his thick fingers had gripped her. There was likely going to be a bruise.
The Queen addressed a tall woman who observed impassively from a few paces behind her. “Lena, please have some clothes brought to…” she looked at Sarah expectantly. Sarah stared blankly at the Queen.
“Oh!” She realized the Queen was waiting for her name. “Sarah. Your Majesty,” she added quickly.
“Please bring some clothes to Sarah’s bedchamber.” The Queen looked her over appraisingly. “She looks about the same size as me, bring her two of my older dresses that I don’t wear anymore.” Lena scurried off to do the Queen’s bidding.
Looking back at Sarah, she smiled. “That should see you through until we can get the tailor to make you some more.”
“Thank you!” Sarah said. “That’s so very kind of you.”
“Nonsense, I am appalled that you were attacked by bandits on the way to my kingdom.” She leaned in so that nobody could hear. “You look very strange, but …very… comfortable.”
“I am,” Sarah grinned. “I just wish everyone would stop staring.”
“Changing your clothes won’t help that. A new person in the castle always attracts a bit of attention. And a woman tutor? Well, that’s a novelty too!”
“I suppose it is,” Sarah said.
“I must say I’m happy to have another woman in the castle,” she said. She scrunched her nose, and suddenly Sarah thought that she looked young for a Queen. “Your accent is very peculiar, it’s not one I’m familiar with. Where is it you’re from again?”
“Oh, well… I’ve traveled all over the world.” Sarah wracked her brain for a response. “Being a woman, it’s harder to find work so I have to travel all over. I’ve just kind of picked up an accent of my own. A blend of the whole world, I suppose.”
“How fascinating!” the Queen said. “You must tell me all about your travels.”
Sarah’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.
A gong sounded in the distance. “I must go for dinner, but I will hear all about your adventures soon!”
Sarah nodded, grateful for the lucky escape. She’d done a little traveling, but she could hardly tell a story about visiting Disneyland Paris to a medieval queen, could she?
Sarah’s stomach rumbled, and her ring burned a little. She was glad the Queen hadn’t noticed her ring. It would have been difficult to explain why the bandits hadn’t taken it.
She glanced around, trying to think where the kitchens might be, and caught a glimpse of the maid that had found her earlier.
“Excuse me!” Sarah rushed after her. The maid turned, an alarmed look on her face at being chased through the castle by a strangely dres
sed woman. “Where will I find something to eat?”
“Come with me,” the maid said. “I believe you had a run in with Cedric. Nasty, power-hungry brute that one.”
“Cedric?”
“The guard.”
“Oh! Is that his name? He was rather mean,” Sarah said.
“That’s putting it mildly,” the girl said. “I’m Agata, by the way.”
“Sarah.” They exchanged brief smiles.
The smell of the food and the heat of the kitchen fires hit her from the corridor, even before they reached the kitchen. When they entered the enormous room, steam billowed from large cauldrons, and several cooks stirred pots and shouted to each other.
“This is where all staff eat,” Agata said. “We sometimes eat the same food as the royal family if it’s a stew or a soup. Sometimes we just get gruel, or bread with some cheese. It depends, really.”
Sarah hoped it was stew or soup today. She’d eaten plenty of bread already and she wanted something warm and filling in her stomach. Agata took a seat at a huge table and gestured for Sarah to sit next to her.
“Do you all eat at the same time?” Sarah asked as a stream of castle staff filed into the kitchen.
“No, we all have a set dinner time to make sure that there are enough staff to look after the castle while we eat. You will be able to choose any of them, I suppose. With you being more of a guest than a servant.”
The table began to fill up with men and women chatting as they waited for their food.
“What’s it like working for the royal family?” Sarah asked.
“It’s not so bad,” Agata said. “The king can be stern, but we only deal with the housekeeper, and as long as we follow her instructions we are left alone to do our work.”
“Speak for yourself,” a plump, pretty blonde chimed in from across the table. “I’ve been assigned to clean the Princess’ room.”
“What’s so bad about the Princess?” Sarah asked.
“She’s always so miserable, and quick to anger,” the girl said. “She yelled at me yesterday because the water in her wash bowl was too cold, but only because she had left it there for too long before using it!”