Lost in Time_Split-Second Time Travel Story 1

by Ken Johns

  “That’s perfect, Margaret, keep it up. But work your way around behind me as you do.”

  Margaret limped her way behind Jess, throwing clumps of dirt, horse shit, and little rocks. Fast’n’smart huffed and grimaced. He was either going to rush her or retreat. Margaret continued to hurl debris at him. Some of it even found its target.

  “Okay, Mila, back away from the door. We’re heading for the forest. Are you with me?”

  “Roger that, Constable.” Mila backed away from the door, keeping her aim on the opening.

  “Margaret, back toward the forest with us but keep throwing. Got it?”

  “Gawdit.” Margaret’s Texan accent was back.

  The three of them walked backwards in a row. Fast’n’smart followed at first, but he was continually struck by Margaret’s projectiles. When they were halfway to the forest, Mila shifted her aim from the barn door to Fast’n’smart himself. That was when he must have decided he’d had enough, because he ran back to the barn.

  They stopped when they made the tree line, but Mila kept her aim in the general vicinity of the barn. There was no way she was going to let one of these assholes sneak out of the barn.

  Jess pointed at Margaret’s leg. The gouges bled from her knee to her ankle. “Sit down and let me take a look.”

  “No, I’m fine,” said Margaret.

  “No, you’re bleeding. Please.”

  Margaret lowered herself slowly without bending her injured leg.

  Jess pointed at the bottom of Mila’s JumpGear dress. “I need to tear a few inches off the bottom of your dress to make a bandage.”

  “What?” Mila rolled her eyes. She huffed and handed her the crossbow. “Cover the barn and give me your sword.”

  Jess complied, and Mila cut the bottom three inches off her dress. It was now officially above the knee and unsuitable for professional dress codes everywhere, to say nothing of the fourteenth century. She handed Jess the bandage and sword and took back her crossbow.

  When Jess finished wrapping the injured leg, she helped Margaret to her feet. “If it starts to throb, let me know and we’ll loosen it.”

  Margaret took a few tentative steps. “Oh, that is better. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Jess crossed her arms. “Please tell me it was worth it and you got what you wanted out of the cottage.”

  “I got it.” Margaret smiled and held up the MCV.

  “Good.” Jess blew out a breath. “Next time tell me what you’ve got in mind before you go all lone-wolf on me, okay?”

  “Lone wolf?” Margaret raised her eyebrows.

  “Forget it.” Jess smiled. “Are you far enough away to reload if they charge us?”

  Mila shrugged. “Yeah, but my aim is shit at this distance.”

  “Okay. Do you want to make a play for the carriage or head back to Mom?”

  The carriage was stuck in the soft field to the right of the barn, its wheels buried almost to the axles. Mila scowled. “I see you managed to get it nice and stuck.”

  “Yeah, well, I think if we threw some stuff out we could get it free.”

  “What about those two assholes in the barn?”

  “They seem smart, not brave. I bet if we were down by the carriage and you kept guard, they’d leave us alone.”

  “Why would they do that?” said Mila.

  “The only way they could get into sword range would be if they rushed us. One of them would wind up getting shot, and I don’t think either of them would risk it. Do you?”

  “My guy sure was a chickenshit.” Mila smiled.

  “And my guy was fast and smart. Fast’n’smart isn’t going to take a bolt for Chickenshit.”

  Margaret burst out laughing. “Your names for them are good,” she said.

  “I don’t know their real names,” said Jess.

  “I do, but yours are better.”

  “It’s not magic,” Mila said. “Where we come from, you learn to read men early.”

  “So you spend less time with creeps,” Jess finished.

  “It looks like we might not have to worry about them after all.” Mila pointed at the guards lifting their fallen comrade. “They’re helping Woody to his feet.”

  “Woody?” said Jess.

  Mila scowled. “Yeah. I kind of shot him in the groin.”

  “What?”

  “He deserved it. He was trying to have a go at Margaret while she was down.”

  “All right, then.” Jess held up her hands. “How far away is the castle?”

  “It takes half a day to walk from here,” said Margaret.

  The guards moved toward the track leading out of the glen, helping the injured man between them. Then Fast’n’smart took off, running ahead of the other two.

  “Okay, we have a limited window. Chickenshit has Woody going as fast as he can. Fast’n’smart has gone ahead to get help.” Mila did the mental math. If Fast’n’smart could run the whole way—and Jess said the guy had wheels, so he probably could—he would get there in half the time. If the help came back on horseback, that would halve the time again. “Worst case scenario, we have less than two hours to get the carriage free.”

  “Let’s give it a shot.” Jess jogged toward the carriage.

  Chapter Nineteen

  April 28, 1341

  Baron Reginald Fitzdumay, constable of Sussbury Castle, strolled through the outer bailey. Bishop Edward Deville walked with him although Reginald had not invited him. Edward always seemed to be present when Reginald was busy tending to his duties. Reginald tried to focus on his steward, who held a drawing of the tournament grounds and pointed out where each of the knights would set up their pavilions for his tournament. Edward’s constant questions were slowing down the entire process and growing quite tiresome. Reginald just wanted to have done with it. “Do I really need to know this?”

  “No, my lord.” The steward bowed his head. “I only thought you would be interested.”

  “I am not.” Reginald stopped and pointed at the drawing. “Just make sure Wessex and Raymond are at opposite ends of the camp.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The steward rolled up the parchment and scurried away.

  Reginald sighed, glanced at Edward, and continued toward his new lists and tilts. He placed a hand on the topmost board of the fence. The work felt sturdy and serviceable. Now all he had to worry about was paying the carpenters.

  Reginald could not remember why he had agreed to host the tournament. He glanced at Edward. Edward had said the king loved to joust and this would bring the barony into favor. But what did that even mean? Reginald had no ambition at court, and he could not think of a single thing the barony needed from the king other than to be left alone. He had enough trouble keeping his estates functioning smoothly and paying his ever-increasing taxes. Now he would be hard pressed to do either. Damn the bishop and his manipulations.

  “Reginald,” Edward said.

  “Hmm?”

  Edward pointed across the bailey. One of the guards ran toward them. The man’s face was dirty and bleeding.

  “My lord.” The man stopped and bowed.

  Reginald raised an eyebrow. He recognized the guard and thought his name might have been Eric. “Good news?”

  “No, my lord,” said Eric. “We were attacked at the heretic’s cottage.”

  “Attacked?” asked Edward. “Who would have the gall to attack castle guards?”

  When Eric did not answer straight away, Reginald asked, “Who were these men?”

  Eric kept his eyes down at the ground and said, “They were not men.”

  “What then? Wolves? Boars?” Reginald wanted to ask about the silver, but now Eric had piqued his interest. “What kind of beast could do this to castle guards?”

  “Women,” said Eric.

  Reginald wasn’t quite sure he’d heard him correctly. He thought the man had said women, but that was absurd. “Speak up, man. I can hardly hear you.”

  Eric finally raised his face. “I’m sorry, my lord.
It was women. Two strangers and the local girl, Margaret.”

  “The heretics from the meadow,” said Edward.

  “It is the only explanation.” Reginald nodded. “And what of the silver?”

  “My lord,” said Eric, “Adrian has been shot. Paul is helping him walk back. But I fear if I do not return with horses immediately, he will not reach the barber in time.”

  “Eric.” Reginald decided not to strike the impudent man. “I asked you a question.”

  “I am sorry, my lord. We did find a chest filled with silver. We also found food, weapons, armor, and fine dresses, but we lost everything when the heretics attacked.”

  “Damn.” Reginald wanted to yell for Henri but Edward stood in his way. He could have stepped to the side to avoid yelling into the bishop’s face, but he was not in the mood. “Henri! Attend me at once.”

  Captain Henri, who stood talking with the carpenters at the far end of the lists, rushed over.

  If Reginald could get his hands on the heretic’s silver, he might yet be able to salvage some remnant of dignity. He had no desire to borrow money. That was the surest way to lose everything.

  Captain Henri arrived and bowed. “My lord.”

  “Eric has lost my treasure to the heretics. Please retrieve it for me. Take as many men as you need.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said Henri.

  Eric lingered. “But my lord, what of Adrian?”

  Reginald stared at him. Why did he continue to harp about this wounded man? Could he not see the priority?

  “Eric,” said Henri. “Come. Do not waste the baron’s time.”

  The annoying man bowed and scurried after Henri. Edward was right. The people were changing.

  Chapter Twenty

  April 28, 1341

  “Push!” Mila yelled.

  She and Jess leaned into the back of the carriage with every bit of strength they could muster. Margaret whipped the horses from the driver’s bench. Finally, the vehicle began to roll.

  “Keep them moving,” ordered Jess. “Don’t let them stop until you reach the hard ground of the path.”

  Margaret drove the carriage around the barn and disappeared.

  Mila and Jess searched the pile of loot the castle guards had loaded into the carriage.

  “We should definitely take the money box,” said Jess.

  Mila opened a chest and saw the beautiful cloth from the dresses that Chad was supposed to have arrived with at the meadow. “I want these dresses.”

  “No,” said Jess. “You should be looking for chain mail. In case you haven’t noticed, the holiday is over.”

  “I know.” Mila just wanted to feel clean. She started opening other chests and looking in the cloth sacks. “Here, I found something that looks like bread.”

  “Food, we’ll take,” said Jess.

  “I know. I’m not an idiot.” Mila draped the sack of bread over her shoulder.

  “Do you see any chain mail?”

  “No.” Mila stood up after she checked the last bag.

  “We need to get going.” Jess pointed at the money box. “Grab a handle.”

  Between them, they carried the money box toward the carriage. Margaret climbed down and opened the door. Once inside, Jess opened the lid. “Margaret?”

  “Yes?” she poked her head in the door.

  “I’d feel safer if we hid the MCV in this box.”

  Margaret nodded and handed it over. Jess dropped it in on top of the mound of silver, and it had turned silver by the time she closed the lid. “Okay, let’s hit the trail.”

  Jess climbed up to the driver’s bench, and Mila started to climb up the other side.

  “Not you,” said Jess. “It has to be Margaret.”

  “Why?” snapped Mila. “She has a sore leg, I’m sure she’d rather ride inside.”

  “Margaret’s the only one who knows where we’re going.”

  It was true. Margaret had said she could show them where to stop once they were on the Roman road. She knew the place where it would only be a short hike up the hill to where Sandra and John waited. Mila climbed inside the carriage. “Wake me up when we get there.”

  Mila never did fall asleep. Jess drove the horses hard. The carriage juddered along the stones of the ancient road. Mila’s ass was bruised by the constant jarring. She could not get comfortable. When she tried to lay on the bench, her skull bounced on the wood like a basketball.

  Finally, the bumping slowed and stopped. Mila poked her head out the door and climbed down to the mud. They were parked at the side of the road in the middle of the forest.

  Margaret pointed. “Your mother waits just up this hillside.”

  “I think Margaret should stay with the carriage,” said Jess as she climbed down. “She should rest that leg.”

  “Bad idea.” Mila studied the forested hillside. She would be lost as soon as she was out of sight of the road. “Margaret’s the only one who can find them.”

  “Okay, fine,” said Jess.

  “I’ll go with Margaret.” Mila knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Her ass was so bruised she could hardly sit. “You stay and guard the stuff.”

  Jess leaned in and gave Mila a hug. “Be safe.”

  “You too.” Mila followed Margaret up the slope into the trees.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  April 28, 1341

  Captain Henri galloped through the streets. Villagers lunged out of their way as the knights rode by. He always felt invincible with Marc and Luke at his side. Together they had survived Halidon Hill. They would have no problem retrieving this chest from three women. He had been surprised when the baron let him choose his own force, but it was misguided to think Sir Reginald was finally realizing the danger of the heretics. Eric had explained that silver had motivated the baron’s change of heart.

  They left the village behind and raced along the road that led across the fields to the forest. On two occasions they had to ride into the fields to avoid fully loaded carts headed for the village. Bloody foreigners. This was the baron’s road. Henri could have demanded they give way to the guard, but he had no time. He wheeled his mount around the second cart and regained the road.

  “There!” Eric pointed.

  Paul staggered along the road with Adrian hung over his shoulder. Adrian’s head and hands dangled behind Paul’s back.

  Henri reined in and dismounted. The look on Paul’s face could only mean Adrian was dead. He lowered the body to the ground. The other knights dismounted and joined Henri next to Paul. They all bowed their heads and knelt by Adrian.

  Although he had the right by rank, Henri let Marc offer the prayer. He was the most learned of his knights and would be far more eloquent.

  “Lord, we pray you welcome Adrian into your house,” Marc said. “He was a righteous man. Please forgive his sins and remember his many acts of bravery and selflessness. He will be long remembered for his good humor, his able sword, and his lust… for life. Amen.”

  “Amen.” They crossed themselves and stood.

  “My friends,” said Henri. “We have failed in our attempt to save this man, but let us not waste the day. Since we are armored and ready for war, I offer a heretic hunt in honor of Adrian. Who will be at my side?”

  “I will,” they said as one.

  The knights mounted.

  “Paul, take Adrian’s body and see it buried.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Eric, you will come with us, but leave Paul your horse.”

  Eric mounted behind Marc and they galloped into the forest.

  Flames overwhelmed the woodpile that had once been the heretic’s cottage as Henri and his little band came down into the glen. Eric pointed around the barn and they rode in that direction. The heretic’s possessions were piled in the field.

  Henry stopped his horse and dismounted. “What does it mean?”

  “They had to empty the carriage to free it from the mud, my lord.” Eric pointed to a spot next to the pile. “It wa
s stuck here when last I saw it.”

  Henri led his horse in that direction. He stopped next to the pile. A chest of lady’s dresses, a sack of armor, three swords, a mace, and two spears were nearest. Two more chests stood together with a longbow and quiver of arrows leaning against them. “Do you see the chest of silver?”

  “No, Captain.” Eric shrugged. “The heretics must have stolen it.”

  Henri was not sure they had stolen it. After all, it had once belonged to them, but Lord Reginald had claimed it as his own, so that would be the end of it.

  “We go.” Henri remounted his horse and squeezed his spurs into its sweaty flanks. The animal thundered back up the track into the forest.

  Henri spotted the carriage as they came around the bend. It was just pulling back onto the road, one man visible on the driver’s bench. He pointed. “Our prize!” Marc and Luc spurred their mounts, and they raced away, gaining on the carriage. The driver snapped the whip and the carriage picked up speed. But it was far too late. The driver of the carriage could not possibly hope to outrun Henri’s knights.

  Luc caught the carriage first and passed on the left, and Marc came up on the right. Eric leaned from behind Marc as if to jump from the horse to the side of the carriage.

  The carriage driver pulled hard to the right and drove the carriage toward Marc. Marc backed off to avoid getting his mount entangled in the wheels. But the right-side wheels of the vehicle dropped off the road into the mud and immediately slowed its progress.

  The driver pulled to the left, but Luc came even with the carriage’s horses. The driver tried to whip Luc, but the blow fell harmless on his armor. He leaned over, grabbed the closest horse by its bridle, and lowered its head. The horse slowed to a walk. Marc came alongside on the right, and the chase was over. Henri stopped his horse behind the carriage.

  “Get down.” Eric jumped off Marc’s horse and faced the driver.

  The driver made no move to comply, just sat there studying each of them. Only when she looked at him did Henri realize the driver was a woman.