Lost in Time_Split-Second Time Travel Story 1

by Ken Johns

  “It is feeling much better.” Margaret walked around the room with only a slight limp.

  “Maybe you should stay here and rest it. You could watch the silver for us.”

  “No.” Margaret shook her head emphatically, and a big grin spread across her face. “If you are rescuing John and Sandra, we can rescue my Chaddy at the same time.”

  Mila felt like shit. Chad was dead. She’d known it for twenty-four hours and still hadn’t found a convenient time to tell Margaret. She reached for Margaret’s hands. “There’s something I should have told you.” She paused for a breath. “Yesterday at the castle, I found out that Chad is dead.”

  Margaret closed her eyes and nodded.

  Mila pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry. There is no excuse.”

  Margaret pulled out of the hug and smiled bravely. “Do not worry. I have been expecting this news.”

  “We should hurry, Lady Mila.” Raymond stood at the door with his hand on the handle.

  “Raymond.” Mila gave him a back off look but doubted he had the ability to read it. “Would you like to stay here and rest?” she asked Margaret.

  “Of course not.” Margaret moved to the door. “You might need me.”

  Mila and Margaret followed Raymond around the outside of the curtain wall. Mila focused on finding quiet but sturdy foot placements in the gloom. Raymond hadn’t been kidding about the cliff. She could put her left hand on the stone wall and look down over the edge to her right without even leaning. The path was definitely single file. In the dying light she couldn’t make out any detail of the ground at the base of the cliff.

  Raymond stopped.

  “What is it?” Mila said.

  He held a finger to his lips. Liquid splashed the stonework somewhere ahead.

  “I will take care of it.” He drew his sword.

  “Wait.” Mila touched Raymond’s forearm. “We cannot add to Reginald’s body count against my family. Can you take care of it in a way that doesn’t involve killing?”

  “I am not certain.” Raymond shook his head. “A fight is unpredictable enough. To wound an opponent is to make him angry and even more dangerous. The safest course is to kill.”

  “Perhaps I can take care of it without fighting.” She squeezed past Raymond.

  “How? Lady Mila, I must insist.” Raymond stepped toward her. “You put yourself at risk unnecessarily.”

  Mila put her hands on his chest. “Let me try.” She lifted her hands away and slowly raised them, palms skyward, as she stepped back. “You see, I am no threat.”

  She crept forwards before Raymond could object again. He was exhibiting the same macho bullshit she resented so much in her father. Men. Why was fighting their answer for everything? As she came around the curve of the wall, the tallest man she had ever seen stood peeing against the wall. He had to be seven feet at least and could have modeled for a muscle magazine. He finished his business and rearranged his breeches then shouldered an enormous battle-ax and disappeared into a depression in the wall.

  A metallic jingle accompanied his walk. Mila moved closer until she could peek around the edge of the depression. The giant stood in a semicircular alcove. The chain around his neck led through a small gate in the wall behind him.

  Raymond and Margaret came up behind Mila.

  “Well?” said Raymond. “Is it the idiot?”

  “I have an idea.” She motioned them back around the bend of the wall until they were invisible from the giant’s latrine, which she assumed was located at the extreme end of his chain, because why would anybody pee on the ground where they knew they would have to walk in it? She hoped her logic was sound. “Wait here.”

  Mila walked back to the splash zone. Her plan was no plan. Just talk to him, see what comes up, show some interest. Channeling Oprah, she took a long breath in and slowly blew it out on the silent word… care. “Hello at the gate!”

  “Who’s there?” The giant rushed out of the alcove and stomped along the narrow trail toward her until his chain pulled on his throat.

  “My name’s Mila.” She smiled up at him. “What’s yours?”

  “Richard.” The man spoke very slowly and backed up until his collar no longer pulled on him. He gripped his battle-ax in his fists and stood with his legs apart and slightly bent.

  “I’m not going to fight you.” She held her empty hands high to put the thought out of his head. Keeping a friendly tone in her voice, she said, “Why are you chained up?”

  Richard watched her for a long time. “They never told me.”

  “Who are ‘they’?”

  “Captain Henri and the baron,” Richard said with great respect.

  “Are you a slave?”

  “No,” Richard said. “I am a guard.”

  “No, you’re not.” Mila shook her head.

  Richard stomped his feet. “Yes.” He took a swing at Mila with the ax. She was out of reach but close enough to feel the wind.

  “Easy, big guy. I’m saying you can’t be a guard.”

  “I am a guard.” Richard swung the ax with one hand and reached out as far as he could.

  Mila had to step back to stay out of range. “No, you’re not.”

  “Stop saying that.” Richard dropped his ax and pulled on his chain with both hands.

  “Do you want some help with that?”

  Richard stopped straining. “Why would you help me? I’m trying to get this free so I can make you stop lying.”

  “I’m not lying, buddy.”

  Richard whipped back to his chain and started yanking on it again.

  “Hey!” Mila had to yell to be heard above the clinking and scraping of metal on stone. “Give me a chance to explain, okay?”

  Richard kept pulling, ignoring her.

  While he had his back to her, she hefted his abandoned battle-ax up onto her shoulder and walked back out of range. She let Richard work on his chain for a while. “Are you getting tired yet?” No answer. She just hoped he didn’t pull it free. She had to assume this wasn’t the first time he’d tried.

  Richard stopped to catch his breath, and Mila said, “Nice ax you got here.”

  Richard’s head spun around. He came running the two steps his chain would allow before it pulled taut and he fell back on his ass in the puddle of pee. He reached out with open palms. “Give it back. Please.”

  “Why? You’ll just swing it at me.”

  “No. I promise. Just give it back.”

  “Why?”

  Richard dropped his eyes to the ground. “If I lose any more axes, Henri will not feed me.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Henri’s an asshole.”

  Richard smiled. “Yes. He is. Will you please give me my ax?”

  “Yes.” Mila lowered the ax to the ground where Richard could reach it easily then moved back casually, trying not to make it look too obvious.

  Richard clutched the ax to his chest but made no move to get to his feet.

  “Are you ready to listen to me?”

  Richard nodded.

  “Okay. I’m going to tell you why I don’t think you’re a guard.”

  Richard glared at her but remained silent.

  “I’ve been all over this castle, and the other guards are not chained up. They come and go as they please. They ride horses. They eat and drink when they feel like it. Sure, Henri tells them what to do, but they do it because they agree with him. Not because he won’t feed them.” The irony of the invisible bonds that chained the other guards to Henri came to mind, but she let it rest.

  Richard had stopped glaring at her. “Do they really get to ride horses?”

  “Yes, and carts. And they can walk all over town and visit the cathedral, too.”

  A tear rolled down Richard’s cheek. “I want to do that.”

  “Maybe you can.”

  “How?”

  “Show me where this chain is attached.” It was a long shot, but maybe she could see a way he hadn’t.

  Richard smiled
and got to his feet. He walked back toward the depression in the wall.

  Mila signaled to Raymond and Margaret to move up, then scurried to catch the giant. Richard’s long, slow gait covered a lot of ground.

  Inside the gate, Richard went through a door on his right and stood in a small room built into the wall. A cot was the only furnishing. A metal loop buried in the stone held Richard’s chain to the wall. Richard’s constant pulling had loosened the mortar. It wouldn’t have been long before he would have freed himself.

  Mila held out her hand. “May I borrow your ax?”

  “No.” Richard held the ax out of reach, looking horrified. “It will dull the blade.”

  “I’m not going to use the blade.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I need a lever.”

  “A what?”

  Mila reached out for the ax again. “May I?”

  Richard slowly handed it over. Its handle was sheathed in metal. As long as the wood inside didn’t crack, it would make a perfect lever. Mila slid the point of the handle inside the loop from above. She pulled it away from the wall. Nothing happened. She strained on the handle with all her strength. Nothing. She climbed up the wall, holding the handle of the ax, until her feet were on each side of the loop and still she couldn’t budge it. “A little help?”

  Mila let go of the ax and dropped back to the floor. Richard stepped over to the wall by the loop. He put his back to the wall above it and with one hand pushed outward on the ax handle like he was putting a giant transmission into first gear.

  The loop ground its way out of the stonework and clanged on the floor.

  “You’ve done it,” Mila said.

  Richard still held his ax in the hand he’d used to pry out the loop. He studied the end of the handle where the metal banding had been crimped by the force. Tentatively, he placed his hand around the injured metal but pulled it away almost immediately. There was a small cut in his palm. He tossed the ax to the ground. “It is ruined.” He sat down on his cot. “Henri will not be happy.”

  “Richard.” Mila waited until he looked up. “Why are you worried about Henri? Don’t you remember why we pulled your chain off the wall?”

  He shook his head.

  “Now you can walk outside the castle, ride a horse, see the cathedral, all of it.”

  Richard stared at the ruined ax. “But what about Henri? When he sees the ax…”

  “He won’t.” Mila bent and picked up the ax. “Because you’re taking it with you on your adventure.”

  “I am?”

  Mila walked out of the room and nodded through the gate. “Come on.” Then she walked outside without waiting for him.

  Raymond and Margaret stood outside. Mila shushed them and pointed to the side to keep them out of Richard’s way, then she faced the entrance. The tinkling of metal on stone preceded Richard’s appearance.

  He stepped outside and spotted Raymond and Margaret in the alcove. “Who are you?”

  “These are my friends Margaret and Sir Raymond. Say hello to Richard.”

  “Hello, Richard,” they said, carefully keeping their distance from the giant man.

  Mila handed Richard his ax. He took it one-handed and walked away, dragging his chain behind him. The end of the chain slid out of the gate and followed him around the corner, but it stopped before it was out of sight. Richard trudged back around the corner. A tear rolled down his cheek.

  Mila walked over to meet him. “What’s the matter, Richard?”

  “I don’t want to go on my adventure.”

  “Why?”

  “I do not know where the cathedral is, or where the riding horses are, or where to get a drink.” Richard walked back toward his gate where Raymond and Margaret were standing.

  “Wait. Richard. I know how you can still have your adventure. You need a guide.”

  Richard stopped. “What is a guide?”

  “A guide is somebody who knows about all the things you want to know about, and they love to show you those things.”

  Richard frowned. “I do not know a guide.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “It’s Margaret.” Mila pointed. “I just introduced you to her.”

  “Will you show me where the cathedral is?”

  Margaret glanced at Mila. Mila nodded vigorously, then stopped when Richard looked toward her.

  “I will.” Margaret took her cue seamlessly and laced her fingers around Richard’s arm, leading him back down the trail. “The first place I am going to show you is the blacksmith’s, where we can get rid of this chain.”

  Mila stood with Raymond, watching them walk away. “That took longer than I had hoped.”

  “Killing is faster, too,” Raymond said.

  Chapter Fifty

  April 30, 1341

  Edward climbed the keep stairs in his finest armor. At his back were five of the tournament’s knights dressed as he was. With Wessex’s demise, it had fallen to him to see God’s work done. He had called on the knights Wessex had originally recruited to hunt the heretics, before Reginald—under Lady Evelyn’s influence—had told Wessex they would not be needed. They were surely needed now, more than ever. With these men at his back, he would hunt down the heretics and put an end to this menace once and for all.

  Edward entered the keep with his men and heard shouting coming from the great hall. He held up a hand to hold his men back while he listened.

  “Henri!” Reginald’s voice echoed. Something wooden scraped across the floor, and one of the wolfhounds whimpered. Edward had to smile at that divine justice.

  Henri said, “Yes, my lord?”

  “Why did you kill him?” Reginald yelled. “Even I could see that he couldn’t raise his sword, and I was standing several yards away.”

  “Kill who… my lord?”

  “Wessex, of course. Have you lost your mind?” Reginald paused. “Do you know what your foolish pride has cost me?”

  “No…” said Henri.

  “You will stand while I address you, sir.” He paused. “Henri!”

  “My lord,” said Henri. “There is something I must tell you.”

  “Does it explain your behavior of late?”

  “It does.”

  “It had better. If I find the story lacking in any way, you will no longer be my captain. Begin.”

  “It was not I in Raymond’s armor.”

  “What? My god, man, who was it? I’ll have his head!”

  What news was this? Had Reginald conspired to kill Wessex? Edward crossed himself and thanked the lord for this bounteous revelation. He began to imagine how he might best put this information to use.

  Reginald continued, “How did this man come to be in the—”

  “Please, sir, there is more,” said Henri. “After you agreed to Lady Evelyn’s plan and left to tell Wessex, Lady Evelyn said I was not tall enough to fill Raymond’s armor convincingly. She suggested that the heretic was the only man tall and capable enough to pull off the counterfeit.”

  “My God, Henri!”

  “I agreed with her and the plan. But I assure you, I had no idea the heretic would kill Wessex.”

  “Where is the heretic who is finding my treasure?”

  “I know not, my lord.”

  “Henri, you continue to disappoint me. I would have given her a full escort and a work party of laborers had she asked for it. She needs to be protected. If there is even the slightest chance of finding that money…” Reginald paused. “Bring me the hostages. And Evelyn!”

  Henri rushed from the great hall and came face to face with Edward and his knights. Edward nodded solemnly as Henri rushed into the stairway and climbed out of sight.

  “Let us speak with Reginald,” Edward said to his knights, leading them into the great hall.

  Mila followed Raymond into a long, dark passage and up the stairs. When they reached the top, they emerged into a hallway from behind a tapestry that hid the openin
g to the secret passage.

  Raymond pointed her across the hall to another set of stairs leading up. “Your parents have a single guard.” He smiled. “Might I assume you do not want me to kill him either?”

  “Correct.” Mila loaded her crossbow and went up the stairs ahead of Raymond. Behind her, she heard someone say, “Hello, Raymond.” It was Lady Evelyn. Raymond stopped and returned to the base of the stairs to greet her. Mila rushed up the stairs, not knowing how long she had before Raymond was reprogrammed by Lady Evelyn.

  Mila reached the top of the tower. A guard stood facing the stairs with his back to a door. She raised the crossbow to her shoulder and walked out of the shadows until she was certain he could see the weapon.

  Mila spoke in as gruff a voice as she could muster. “Put your hands on your head.”

  He did what she asked. But his eyes strayed from the crossbow and drifted to her face. He started to smile and lowered his hands toward his sword.

  “That would be a mistake, Colin.” Lady Evelyn emerged from the stairs behind her.

  He sneered. “But she is just a girl.”

  “Did you not hear tell of the crossbowman who shot the guards at the execution in the square?”

  Colin stopped sneering and moved his hands back up to his head.

  “Can I trust you?” Mila maintained her aim. “Or have you changed your mind again?”

  Lady Evelyn whispered in Mila’s ear. “Not in front of the guard, dear.”

  Mila rolled her eyes. She would have to improvise. Lady Evelyn would be on her side until it suited her not to be. She would just have to keep an eye on her and be ready when the switch came.

  “Open it.” Mila gestured Colin toward the door.

  He unlocked it, and swung it open. John’s huge arms encircled Colin’s neck, pulling him into the cell.

  Sandra stepped out and gave her a hug. “Are you all right? Did you find it?”

  She had to point the crossbow at the ceiling to keep it out of Sandra’s way. “This is not the time. It’s a rescue.”

  There was a ruckus in the cell. Mila pried Sandra off and advanced into the cell with her weapon raised. “Colin!”

  The man stopped struggling.