by Renee Duke
“We can’t,” said Paige. “They’d freak. We already know Ned couldn’t handle anything too ‘abstruse’. The concept of time travel is about as abstruse as you can get. We don’t even understand it ourselves.”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing,” said Paige. “You told me how they reacted to your flashlight. They thought it was magic—black magic. Back then, people thought anything they didn’t understand was black magic. They even used it to explain the king’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville. Rumour had it that she and her mother were into sorcery and had put some kind of spell on him.”
“Ned and Dickon were both okay with the flashlight once I explained it to them,” Dane informed her. “And I seriously doubt they thought their mother was a witch.”
“That doesn’t mean they didn’t believe such things existed,” said Paige. “And even if we convinced them we weren’t in league with the devil, we’d never convince anyone else. I can’t say I’ve ever thought about getting burned at the stake, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.”
“We won’t have to convince anyone else,” said Jack. “We can just make up answers to other people’s questions as we go along.”
“Oh, can we? Good at that sort of thing, are you?” said Paige.
Jack smiled sweetly. “Teachers enter my stories in competitions. I’ve won several. Mummy says I have a vivid imagination.”
Paige snorted derisively but gave the boys no further argument. That settled, the three returned to their studies.
Chapter Nine
The day before the photo shoot, Mrs. Marchand and Aunt Augusta took the children into Slough to catch a train to London. A few minutes before they boarded, Jack slipped a cloth band with a plastic button onto each of his wrists.
“What are those for?” asked Paige.
“The train. I throw up if I don’t wear them for long trips.”
Paige grimaced. “Then by all means, do so.”
The train took them to Euston Station in London. From there, they embarked upon the three hour journey to Shrewsbury. They arrived around teatime and were met at the station by Joyce Kemp, a tall, jovial person they all liked immediately.
“Ludlow’s not far. I’ve booked us all into a hotel near the castle,” she said as they climbed into her estate car. “We can have tea there and discuss tomorrow’s shoot.” Before starting the car, she turned to Paige. “I don’t have too much for you to do, love. You’ll only be in one or two scenes. You’ll be portraying a young girl whose father has come to Ludlow to discuss something with Earl Rivers. The text will read, ‘And Edward thought her wondrous pretty.’ I’m afraid it won’t keep you busy for long.”
“That’s okay,” Paige assured her. “I can just stand to the side and watch Dane and Jack. It’ll be fun.”
Mrs. Marchand gave her a sharp look but said nothing.
By six-thirty the next morning, they had finished breakfast, changed into their costumes, and been taken to join the adult models portraying Earl Rivers and other members of the Prince of Wales’s household. Jack’s distaste for getting up early made him indifferent to their surroundings, but Dane and Paige surveyed their photo shoot’s backdrop with interest.
Ludlow Castle had been of great importance in its day. It was still one of the town’s leading attractions, and in quite good condition for a medieval ruin. Its impressive atmosphere definitely helped the models get in character. Even Jack’s mood improved as the morning wore on. The photo shoot went so well, Mrs. Kemp managed to finish all the day’s scenes before the castle opened to the public.
Pleased, Dane asked his mother if they could go exploring.
“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Marchand. “As long as you—”
“—stay clean,” he, Paige, and Jack finished in chorus.
Mrs. Marchand laughed and, after taking charge of the uncomfortable wigs, went off with Aunt Augusta and Mrs. Kemp.
Paige showed the boys a castle diagram she’d got from Mrs. Kemp. Since the castle’s chapel was next to the tower the royal heir was said to have occupied, she suggested trying the time transfer from there, where they would be out of sight.
“Sounds good to me,” Dane agreed.
They raced across the grass covering the inner court but slowed their pace when they actually entered the round Norman chapel. Built in 1120, it had already been in existence for over three hundred years when Ned lived at Ludlow. Now almost nine hundred years old, few traces of the original structure remained. Gazing around it, Dane could see the tiny building had undergone many changes down through the centuries.
He had not come to study architecture, however. Joining hands with the others, he took a deep breath and said the connecting rhyme.
He was by no means certain it would work, so the sudden burst of sparks startled him. As the mist came in, he could feel himself spinning again. Spinning back through time, he thought excitedly.
Then the spinning stopped, and the mist evaporated. Looking around, he found it hard to believe they were still standing in the same place, in the same chapel. This chapel was not an empty, desolate ruin. No grass grew up between cracks in the stones of its floor and while the decorative arches under which worshippers sat still looked old, they did not look as old as in his day. Candles were burning before the altar, and behind the altar, the chancel arch led to an actual chancel rather than just the former site of one. He could also see that what he had initially thought was a blocked off door, was actually a window.
“We did it,” Paige whispered.
Jack nodded. “It does make me feel awful, though,” he said, swaying. “I think I’ll try wearing my wrist bands the next time we do this.”
Moving cautiously, Dane went over to the door and peered out. To his surprise, it appeared to be early evening. On the other side of the inner court, servants were scuttling about doing end of the day chores. None of them seemed to be looking in the direction of the chapel, so he beckoned to the others and stepped outside.
“Dane! Jack!” a voice above them exclaimed.
Dickon was leaning out of a tower window. Behind him, Ned stood to one side, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Wait there,” Dickon called. “We’re coming down.”
“Oh, what luck, Dickon’s here too,” said Jack, smiling. “He must be visiting.”
They got to the tower entrance just as Dickon hurtled out of it. Sweeping Paige a bow, he said, “See, Ned? ’Twas not a trick of light. The mysterious strangers of Rose Blanche have come to Ludlow—and have brought a maiden with them.”
Dane noticed Ned was again wearing the ring he thought might be a Keeper Piece. He also noticed that his manner toward them seemed a bit cool. While his brother chattered on in welcome, he stood back studying them.
At last he said, “Are you aware that in vanishing the way you did, you caused us no little embarrassment? People thought us quite mad when we went about making inquiries as to your possible whereabouts. We could find no one in Master Wolverton’s household who had ever heard aught of you, and Master Wolverton himself denied all knowledge.”
He looked inquiringly at Dane who, in turn, looked at Paige.
“Go on,” she said. “I guess they do have to be told the truth.”
Dane nodded and turned back to the princes. “I can explain,” he said, “but is there somewhere else we could go? Some place where no one can disturb us? It’s something grown-up people might not understand.”
“You know what they’re like,” Paige said.
“Of a certainty, we do,” said Dickon. “When we could not find you, they thought we had drawn you from our imaginations. Dr. Alcock averred we had simply concocted our odd tale to divert our royal father’s wrath. He had told him about our having hid from him earlier and—”
Ned waved his hand dismissively. “That is of no account now. Come. Let us go up to my chamber. No one will intrude upon us there.”
The room the princes led them to was furnished a little m
ore elaborately than the bedroom Dane and Jack had seen at Rosebank. The bed was similar, but the trappings on it much richer. There were also three chests for belongings. At Ned’s bidding, they seated themselves on two of them, Dane beside Paige, Jack beside Dickon.
Ned sat alone on the remaining chest. “Well?” he said.
“It’s kind of complicated,” Dane began, “and something you might find hard to believe.” He thought for a moment. “Do those lessons you do with your tutor include history?”
“I am well versed in the subject,” Ned affirmed, his face taking on its haughty look.
“I don’t just mean dates and stuff,” said Dane. “I’m talking about what life was really like in, let’s say, Roman times, or the days of the Vikings. If you’ve studied those eras, you must know that life back then wasn’t quite the same as it is now.”
“I do,” Ned said impatiently. “What of it?”
“Well, times change. People living in earlier times had different ideas. They had different ways of doing things than people do now. But their ways served their times, and some of those times were pretty impressive.”
“Such as Ancient Rome with its chariot races,” said Dickon. “What a thrill it must have been to drive in one.”
“A thrill for charioteers, mayhap,” Ned said dryly. “The Christians who were thrown to the lions during the same period doubtless found the era less attractive.”
“Yeah, but you have to admit that other times are interesting,” said Dane. “Doesn’t reading about them, and hearing about them, kind of make you want to leave your own time for a while and go back to another one?”
“Such a thing is not possible,” said Ned.
“But if it was possible—if there was a way to take yourself into the past—would you like to do it?”
“Most definitely,” Dickon avowed.
Ned was less certain. “Aye, mayhap,” he said slowly.
Dane glanced toward Paige and Jack. Then he turned back to the princes. Looking Ned straight in the eye he said, “There is a way. We’ve found it.”
The princes stared at him.
“You have taken yourselves back to the time of the Romans?” Dickon whispered.
“No,” said Dane. “But we have managed to get to your time. You see, your time is not our time.” He kept his gaze fixed on Ned. “You remember how I told you we were related to Master Wolverton? Well, we are, but he’s one of our ancestors. That’s why he said he’d never heard of us. In the time he thinks of as now, we don’t yet exist.”
“You could scarce be here if you did not exist,” Dickon pointed out.
“We exist in our own time and have found a way to come back to yours,” said Jack.
“How?” Dickon demanded.
“With this,” said Dane, holding the medallion up off his chest. “It can take us from our time to yours, and then back again. That’s where we went before at Rosebank—the place you know as Rose Blanche. Back to our own time.”
“Back to Hades, you mean!” said Ned. He jumped to his feet and jerked Dickon to his. Pushing his little brother behind him, he spoke in a commanding tone. “Get you gone from us, demons! You seek to befuddle us with nonsense and have us crave the magic of your devil’s tool.”
“The medallion’s not a devil’s tool,” Dane said quickly. “And we’re not demons. We’re people, the same as you.”
“They are, Ned. I am certain of it,” said Dickon. “There cannot be aught evil about them. We saw them come from the chapel. Demons cannot enter holy places.”
Ned relaxed a little, but when the others stood up, he seized Dickon by the wrist to keep him from moving back beside them.
“Stay,” he said. “’Tis still possible that a demon cast a spell upon these three and instructed them to lure us within its grasp.”
“Those ensnared by demons could not have entered the chapel, either,” said Dickon, shaking him off. “They are not the devil’s disciples, brother.”
“They are mad, then. I cannot believe this tale of other times. Once a time is past, it is past. You cannot return to it.”
“That’s what I used to think,” Paige told him. “When the boys came back with that story, I thought they were crazy. But they did travel through time, and now I have too.”
“And who are you?” said Ned.
“I’m Paige.”
“You are a page? You, a maiden?”
“My name is Paige. I’m Dane’s sister. We don’t have pages in our time. At least, not the kind you mean. But if we did, I could be one if I wanted. In our time, females do all kinds of things. They can be doctors, lawyers—anything they want.”
“Can they indeed? Our sister Cecily would like your time,” said Dickon. “She oft rages at being a mere woman with no power to control her own affairs.”
“Are your other sisters like that too?” Paige inquired.
“Mary was,” said Dickon. He suddenly looked sad. “She died last month.”
Ned patted his shoulder. “’Twas a hard blow for Dickon. Though loved by all, she was especially dear to him. That is why he was allowed to come back here with me after the funeral. ’Twas thought it would help him regain his spirits.”
“But you said something about Mary at Rosebank,” said Dane. “It sounded like she was there with you.”
“Indeed she was,” said Ned. “But our visit to Master Wolverton took place months ago—the week before Shrove Tuesday. Mary was well, then.”
“Shrove Tuesday? You mean Pancake Day? That can’t be. Pancake Day’s in February. It’s only been a week since we…” Dane trailed off, remembering how cold it had been in the woods when they first met the princes. “What time of year is it now?” he asked.
“’Tis Midsummer Eve,” said Dickon.
Dane frowned. “Your time obviously doesn’t correspond to ours the way we thought it did. I guess we should have realized that when we saw it was getting on for night here.” Seeing the princes’ puzzled expressions he said, “It’s morning in our time.”
“And even though it is summer, it’s long past Midsummer Eve,” Jack added.
“How very strange,” said Dickon.
“All about this is strange,” said Ned. “I am not certain I like it. Or believe it.”
Dickon snorted impatiently. “What do you believe, then? Think you, still, that they are mad? That torch Dane showed us at Rose Blanche was proof enough of what they say. ’Tis obvious now that it comes from a time beyond ours. Were we to go to Ancient Rome, we, too, could take things people would consider wondrous. A compass mayhap, or one of Master Caxton’s books.”
Glancing out of the window, he gave a sudden start. “Uncle Anthony is approaching,” he said with a look of alarm. “Whatever you think of all this, brother, pray do not speak of it to our uncle. He might choose to deal harshly with our new friends and I…I like them.”
Ned made no reply. His failure to agree made Dane a little nervous. Hearing Earl Rivers’s steady tread on the tower stairs, he cast an uneasy look at the chamber entrance.
Chapter Ten
Earl Rivers was a slender, strongly built man with hard eyes and a carefully controlled expression. Though he must have been surprised to find his nephews were not alone, he did not as much as raise his eyebrows.
“You have company, nephews?” he said, coldly surveying the group before him. “How comes it that they gained access to you without my knowing? The porter said naught of their arrival.”
“He paid no heed to it, uncle,” Dickon said quickly. “We met them outside the castle gates. They passed through with us unchallenged.”
Jack moved forward. “Forgive our boldness, my lord. ’Tis obvious that, in our eagerness to renew our acquaintance with our esteemed lords, the Prince of Wales and his brother, we have failed to observe proper protocol. We meant no disrespect. Had we stopped to think, we would have first presented ourselves to you, His Grace’s governor.”
He lowered his eyes and bit his lip penitently, a gesture
he had often found to have a mollifying effect on adults.
It certainly worked on Earl Rivers. His manner thawed considerably. “You are known to my royal nephews?” he said, looking at those nephews inquiringly.
Dickon’s reply was prompt. “They are kin to Edward Wolverton of Berkshire, uncle. We met them at Rose Blanche when our royal father made his visit there.”
“We are now travelling to the home of a kinsman who lives in this part of the country,” Jack said glibly. “Alas, our journey to him has been fraught with misfortune. Upon seeing their most royal highnesses, we were so pleased to behold known faces, I fear we greeted them without due ceremony.”
“And was there no one with you to keep you from such impropriety?” Earl Rivers inquired. “You are over young to be travelling alone.”
“Oh, our kinsman did give us escort, my lord. The men were not of his household, however, and proved to be shameful rogues. Having a great fondness for taverns, they spent the better part of each day besotted with drink—a practice my fair cousin here found most offensive.” He indicated Paige, who tossed her head and gave a disdainful sniff. “Earlier today, the base pair took our mounts and robbed us of all our money. ’Twas pure luck we happened upon the path which brought us to Ludlow.”
“Luck indeed,” said Earl Rivers. “Such knaves must be dealt with. I will have soldiers on their trail at first light. And my own retainers will see you safely to your destination. Where dwells this kinsman you are seeking? And what be his name?”
Dane was sure Jack could have answered even that, but it was Dickon who spoke up. “They were bound for Shrewsbury, uncle. ’Tis in no way possible for them to get there before nightfall. Ned and I were about to come to you to ask if they might not spend the night here. Is that not so, Ned?”
To everyone’s relief, Ned said, “Aye, ’tis so. Mayhap they will agree to pass the morning with us as well. Our time with them at Rose Blanche was all too brief. ’Twould please me to know them better.”
Earl Rivers inclined his head. “As my prince wishes. But business takes me from Ludlow on the morrow, and I fear I will be making an early start.”