by Ian Martyn
Shirley looked across, licking her fingers. ‘Gone to do a recce.’
Two minutes later, Harold and Goran reappeared.
‘Ah, awake then,’ Harold said. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Define well.’ Kirby said, putting his hands in the small of his back, still trying to massage some feeling into his flesh.
‘That’s the trouble with your lot, soft. All pocket-sprung mattresses and the like.’
‘And I suppose you sleep on the floor, or is it a bed of nails?’
Harold grunted but didn’t answer.
Kirby smiled. ‘Thought so.’
Harold shared out what was left of the bread and meat.
‘What did you find out?’
Harold shook his head. ‘Not much. Other than they’re not there.’
‘You mean they’ve left?’
‘No. The horses are gone. My guess is some of them have gone hunting. Others will be paying visits to villages as they did with Oralf. If they’re coming back tonight, they’ll be back soon.’
‘Why?’
Harold gave Kirby a withering look. ‘Being as there’s little street lighting in the Iron Age and horses don’t have headlamps. So staying out in the dark is not such a good idea.’
Kirby returned Harold’s withering look with one of his own. ‘No, I mean, how do you know they’ve not just gone, as in not coming back?’
‘Ah. The womenfolk are still there and the goblins are hanging around their pens.’
‘Pens?’ Shirley asked.
‘Yes well they’re not exactly seen as part of the family, Uncle Goblin and all that.’
‘Nice.’
Harold put a hand on Shirley’s shoulder. ‘This is the Iron Age. And you wouldn’t class your average king or chieftain as an equal-opportunity employer.’
‘So what now?’ Kirby asked.
‘We need to get closer for when they return.’ Harold shielded his eyes with a hand and studied the setting sun. ‘Should be easier now. And Goran made a note of the possible escape routes.’
‘Escape?’ Kirby said. ‘That implies trouble and running for our…’ he glanced across at Susie and Shirley. ‘Well, running anyway.’
Harold shrugged. ‘Just planning for all possibilities. Anyway, let’s go.’
‘All of us?’ Kirby asked, glancing again towards Susie and Shirley.
Shirley raised her eyes skyward and tutted. ‘If it comes to the running bit, sir, why don’t we put a friendly tenner on who’s ahead?’
‘We stick together,’ Harold said. ‘Anyway, if it came to running for our… well you know, my money’s on Shirley.’
‘Thanks,’ Kirby muttered as they set off.
Topping a small rise, Harold held up a hand for them to stop and motioned for them to get on all fours and head for a gap in the bushes ahead.
‘Ow,’ Kirby complained as he picked a thorn out of his hand.
‘Shhh,’ Harold said. ‘Sound travels here.’
‘Not on its hands and knees though,’ Kirby muttered.
Harold tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down the slope. Ahead of them was a large timber and thatch building with smoke rising from a hole in the centre of the roof. There were several smaller buildings surrounding it. Beyond that the land was wooded and stretched into the distance. The smell of cooking and animal dung drifted towards them. As Kirby watched, several women emerged and a few seconds later the sound of hooves beating on the hard earth announced the arrival of about twenty horses and riders. Harold motioned to get down. ‘Let’s see who we’ve got,’ he muttered, delving into his pack and coming out with small pair of binoculars.
‘Very Iron Age,’ Kirby whispered.
‘Sisillius is there.’
‘Which one?’
‘That’s him in the middle on the grey. The so-called king, with ambitions above his abilities.’
‘Not much of a kingdom.’
‘No,’ Harold said. He glanced across at Connie who shook her head.
‘What?’ Kirby asked.
Connie took the binoculars from Harold. ‘If you’re planning to take a kingdom, you need men and horses, and lots of them.’
‘I thought you said others would be going around the local villages recruiting?’
Connie waved a hand ahead of her. ‘Yes, but that’s not going to deliver anywhere near enough. And there are only buildings there for say what? A couple of hundred?’ Harold nodded.
‘And how many does he need?’
Connie shrugged. ‘A few thousand at least.’
‘Perhaps they’re elsewhere?’
‘Unlikely,’ she said, passing the binoculars to Kirby.
Kirby surveyed the scene. ‘So that’s where Marianne comes in, right?’
Harold shook his head. ‘Still need men.’ He said, holding his hand out for the binoculars again. ‘Oh, look and there’s Mephisto.’
‘I’ve been meaning to ask,’ Shirley whispered. ‘Mephisto? Doesn’t sound very Iron Age.’
‘Here he’s Mathwyn. You might know him better as Merlin.’
‘Merlin?’ Kirby said out loud before remembering to whisper. ‘Merlin?’ he repeated. ‘As in King Arth…’
Susie was on her feet pointing. ‘Sarah.’
At the back of the group, dressed in a deep scarlet robe, was a young girl who from this distance could have been Susie’s twin. Her red hair fanned out behind her and on her head, glinting in the setting sun, was a jewelled band.
Connie gripped Susie’s arm. ‘And next to her is Marianne.’ As she said it, Marianne pulled down the hood that had been covering her face.
‘Sarah,’ Susie repeated. Harold grabbed at her to pull her down, but it was too late. Sarah had also brought her horse to halt and was pointing in their direction. Marianne’s gaze followed her arm. Kirby staggered. It felt like an earthquake had shaken the ground beneath his feet. As he recovered he saw Goran steadying himself on his spear and Harold holding on to a small tree.
‘I think it’s time we were leaving,’ Harold said.
‘Sarah,’ Susie said again, then collapsed.
‘Sorry, Connie, we can’t hang around,’ Harold said as Connie bent down next to her daughter.
‘Just fainted,’ Connie said, looking up. ‘The magic and the sudden connection was too much for her. Just give a few minutes.’
‘I’m not sure we’ve got a few minutes,’ Harold said.
Goran reacted by scooping Susie up in his arms. ‘I’ll take her,’ he said as he turned and headed into the undergrowth. Connie followed.
‘Run?’ Shirley suggested.
‘No,’ Harold said. ‘Not yet. Save your energy. Just walk fast.’
‘Couldn’t you have chosen an easier route?’ Kirby said, ducking beneath a bramble that scratched at his face before batting away branches that sprung towards him as Goran led the way, carrying the still unconscious Susie.’
‘We could, but then they would have been more horse and rider friendly.’
‘Ah.’
‘Stop,’ Harold ordered a few minutes later.
Goran turned, looking as cool as ever despite his extra burden.
Connie pushed Susie’s hair back and laid a hand on her forehead before feeling for a pulse in her wrist. Susie’s eyes fluttered. Connie nodded, looking relieved. ‘She’s alright. It was just the surge of magic; she’s sensitive to it.’
‘Shhh,’ Harold said.
Kirby leant on a branch, panting, and watched as Harold did something he’d only seen in old cowboy films. He got on his hands and knees and put his ear to the ground. ‘Does that actually work?’
‘What?’
‘That, putting your ear to the ground?’
‘It might if people shut up and stopped shuffling around.’
Everyone except Harold gave each other guilty glances.
Harold held his breath for a second or two. ‘Listen,’ he whispered.
‘I can’t hear anything,’ Kirby whispered back.
‘
Exactly, they’re not following.’
‘Perhaps we’ve lost them?’ Kirby whispered again and then wondered why they were whispering if they weren’t being followed.
Harold shook his head. ‘I doubt it, what with you crashing around like a small bull elephant.’
‘So why then?’
‘They’re a superstitious lot and it’s getting dark.’
Shirley grinned. ‘What, those big hairy-arsed, and hairy-faced for that matter, men are afraid of the dark?’
‘Not of the dark so much,’ Harold said, narrowing his eyes and peering around, ‘as what might be hiding in it.’
Shirley’s grin faded. ‘Like what?’
Harold half crouched and peered down the track they were on. ‘Creatures… and things that prefer the night.’
‘That’s right, reassure me,’ Shirley said glancing back the way they’d come.
Harold straightened up then smiled. ‘Or it could just be they know where we live, as it were.’
Shirley relaxed a notch, then scowled and pointed at Harold. ‘You… don’t do that again.’
Harold’s smiled widened.
‘She’s coming round,’ Goran said as he knelt and put Susie on the ground in a sitting position while still holding on to her.
Susie opened her eyes. ‘What happened, where are we?’ She then became aware of Goran’s arm around her and shuffled in closer, bringing a smile to the young man’s face. Connie frowned at her daughter.
‘What?’ Susie said.
Harold gave a brief account of the encounter with Sisillius, Mephisto, Sarah and Marianne. Susie shook her head. ‘All I remember was Sarah. She was in my head, calling to me.’
‘And it was her?’ Connie asked. ‘Not Marianne?’
Susie nodded. ‘I’m sure. It was Sarah’s voice. She wanted me to join them. For a second it felt as if that’s all I’d ever wanted. Then the connection seemed to snap and that’s the last thing I remember.’
Connie nodded. ‘It seems Sarah has at least some of her mother’s talents. Luckily, they’re still a little raw.’
‘Yes, well,’ Harold said, ‘let’s get Susie away from here.’
‘I think getting Susie and the rest of us home might be a good idea,’ Kirby added, glancing towards Shirley as he said it. ‘And by that I mean my version of home.’
‘Agreed,’ Connie said.
Harold nodded as Goran helped Susie to her feet. ‘You OK to walk?’
Susie held on to Goran. ‘Yes, I think so.’
‘I’ll help you,’ Goran said, putting an arm around her waist.
‘Thanks,’ Susie said, leaning into him.
‘Heavens,’ muttered Connie. Harold grinned.
‘So where to now?’ Kirby asked.
Harold pointed off to their left. ‘That way, back to the cave. It’s not that far from here. We’ve effectively come round in a long loop.’
‘Won’t they expect that?’
‘Perhaps, but there’s more than one. Think of it as a network.’
‘Wonderful.’
forty-six
Walking back to the cave only took an hour or so. The moon cast just sufficient light for Kirby to pick his way over the ground. He was, however, glad that Harold and Goran seemed to know where they were going in the dark because he didn’t have a clue. By the time they arrived, Susie was fully recovered, even to the point where she was managing without Goran’s arm around her all the time. Inside, Harold lit a couple of torches which cast enough light to enable them to change back into their twenty-first-century clothes. To Kirby’s relief his brogues were still there and in one piece.
‘I was thinking you might need some protection,’ Harold said to Connie.
‘From what?’ Connie said.
‘If Marianne was aware of Susie, then she also knows you were there as well. And that you have a good idea of what’s going on.’
‘So what are you suggesting?’
‘That Goran stays with you.’
‘Hang on just a minute there,’ Kirby said as he glanced at the smiling Susie. ‘I’m not sure I want to be responsible for someone wandering around rural Northumberland who wouldn’t look out of place in a Lord of the Rings film.’
‘Hey, listen,’ Susie said, ‘stick him in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and no one would suspect a thing.’
Harold nodded. ‘That’s what we’ve done before.’
Kirby turned to Harold. Goran was behind him smiling. ‘Before?’
‘When he looks after the shop. If I have to go away or I fancy a bit of a break.’
Kirby shook his head. ‘He does what! And does he have a passport or any form of ID?’
‘Er, no.’
‘So effectively, he’s an illegal immigrant.’
Harold shrugged. ‘Is he? I mean he is British. He’s still technically from here…’
‘…just not the same historical time,’ Kirby finished for him.
‘Hmm,’ Shirley added. ‘I don’t think that’s actually breaking any laws from what I can remember.’
Kirby threw his hands in the air. ‘Funnily enough, I don’t think anyone has seen the need to legislate for the possibility of immigration through time travel.’
Harold huffed. ‘Exactly.’
‘Wonderful. It’d be a first, I’ll give you that. And more than a little difficult to prove without freaking out all the authorities concerned.’
‘How are they going to know?’
‘I think the spear and bow might arouse some interest. What do you think?’
Harold now had his hands on his hips. ‘Look, it’s not as if he’s going to go down the pub with them.’
‘Well, that’s alright then. I’ll just…’
‘Boys!’ Connie said. ‘It’s nice of you to be concerned, but Susie’s staying with me, at least for now. If it’s Marianne we’re worried about, then sorry, Goran’s not going to be much protection.’
Susie frowned and Goran looked disappointed.
‘What time is it?’ Connie asked when they were back on the other side, their side, and walking to the car park and the bus stop.
Kirby looked at his watch. ‘Seven-thirty, why?’
‘Just that if we get a move on we’ll catch the last bus.’
‘Bummer,’ Shirley said. ‘The National Trust shop’ll be shut. I like a National Trust Shop.’
‘Me too,’ Susie said. ‘I could do with another of their shoulder bags; mine’s seen better days.’
Kirby looked at them. It was as if the last twenty-four hours hadn’t happened. That they hadn’t been to an Iron Age village with real fur-clad warriors carrying spears and swords which could do serious damage. You’d think they’d been to some re-enactment day and that the “warriors” from the “village” packed up at five o’clock to go for their fish and chips. Then on Monday they were back to being accountants or shopkeepers.
When they arrived at the bust stop, the bus was just pulling in. The door opened and the same driver who had brought them here smiled out at them. ‘Had a good day?’ The others piled on past Kirby, leaving him to pay again, he later realised. ‘Careful, Grandad,’ the driver called out to Harold. ‘There’s no rush.’
Harold muttered something guttural that Kirby didn’t catch. The driver grinned.
‘That saved us a walk,’ Connie said as the bus pulled away and Kirby sat next to her.
‘Hang on, the driver said “had a good day?”’
‘Yes, well, you get that in the country. People are a bit more chatty.’
Kirby frowned. ‘No I mean day, as in today, as in we’d only been there for the day.’
Harold poked his head between them from the seat behind. ‘I told you, it doesn’t work like that.’
‘As in?’
‘Well, you weren’t in the same time period, were you?’
‘No, so?’
‘Well there you are then.’ Harold smiled and sat back.
Kirby may have quit physics after O-level, but even he
knew that did not constitute a credible answer. Then again he wasn’t sure he could cope with one that did, so he left it at that.
Back in the kitchen of Connie’s cottage, she sat at the table relentlessly stirring her tea despite not taking sugar.
‘What?’ Kirby asked.
‘I don’t like it.’
‘Could be the milk,’ Harold said, sniffing at the bottle. ‘How long have you had it?’
Connie scowled at him. ‘Not the tea. Marianne. I know what she’s trying to do. She wants to use Sisillius to carve out a kingdom, her kingdom. But she hasn’t anywhere near enough men from what we’ve seen.’
Kirby put his own mug on the table. ‘You said she was trying to recruit from the villages?’
‘Even so, she’ll be way short of what she needs. Those other chieftains have men and lots of them. If they gang together against a common enemy, as it were, Sisillius’s meagre band wouldn’t stand a chance.’
Kirby helped himself to a chocolate digestive. He was half way to dunking it when he saw a questioning frown from Shirley. ‘Er, perhaps she’s curbed her ambition. Settled for a bit of raiding and pillage and all that.’
Connie shook her head. ‘No, not Marianne. Those raids were just to keep the men they’ve already got happy. She’ll have promised them plunder. Also, if she doesn’t keep them occupied, they’ll fight amongst themselves.’
‘If she’s got the magic, can’t she just… I don’t know, magic a victory?’
Connie tutted. ‘What, like turn the other army into frogs or hit them with bolts of lightning?’
‘Er, something like that,’ Kirby muttered, sensing he was on dodgy ground.
Connie patted his hand and gave him the sort of look he felt she might give a five-year-old. ‘It doesn’t work like that. You still need men, warriors. You can view the battlefield, see where your enemy are, create illusions, bring down walls, spread fear. However, when men are standing toe to toe slugging it out in a shield wall, you’d be just as likely to turn the whole battlefield into two armies of frogs, even if that were an option, which I’m pretty sure it isn’t. Also, whatever virtues frogs have, fighting doesn’t rank high among them.’