by Joe Corso
“She will be moved as soon as we are gone,” Koros said.
“Fine,” Lucky said, “but I trust that your word is your bond, Koros.”
Lucky looked around the dungeon area making sure that the portal was still there. There it was, in all its brilliance, the entrance to yet another world.
“Take my arm, Koros, and don’t let go. Whatever you do, do not let go.”
Vlad grabbed hold and sank his firm fingers into Lucky’s arm.
“It’s right in front of us,” Lucky said. “You’ll feel it in a moment.”
Karl watched with great interest. All this talk about time travel was really foolish and he really couldn’t believe that he was observing two grown men pretending to be embarking on some silly journey into another world.
Suddenly, Karl’s face turned ghostly, ghastly white.
“They’ve disappeared,” Karl said. “They’re gone.”
“Yeah, so what?” Mickey asked, completely unaffected by what had happened.
“I mean, he did it. I really didn’t believe all this time travel nonsense. How could that be? It’s not a trick, is it?” He was looking at Mickey for confirmation.
“Not only is it not a trick, but he just saved your life by insisting that you not go with them. If I know Lucky, I seriously doubt that your friend Koros, the future ruler of the world, will be coming back.”
Koros felt the portal pressing against him, constricting him, making it hard to breathe. His breaths were coming in short gasps. He was starting to panic. Lucky understood exactly what he was feeling. He recalled the first time for himself, Sam, Mickey – Koros was no different from anyone else. Koros was panting now, almost hyperventilating.
“We’re here,” Lucky said. “I need my gun and clip.”
Without thinking, Koros gave it to him. Lucky pushed the clip into the 5.7, chambered a round, and holstered the gun. He then sidestepped to his left with Koros following.
“Remember, do not let go of my arm until we are completely outside of the portal.”
Lucky looked out, saw it was clear, and stepped out of the portal with Koros still attached.
“You can let go now,” Lucky said.
Koros looked around the dungeon, at the cells filled with prisoners, and looked back into the cell they had just left. It, too, held prisoners only not the woman and Mickey. The room’s prisoners stared at the men, especially the one carrying an odd object in his hand. Murmurs filled the room.
“Shh,” Lucky motioned to them and the men quickly fell silent.
Seeing that there was no guard stationed inside the cell area, Lucky and Koros quickly took to the stairs. Almost at the top of the stairs, a startled guard stumbled a few steps backward, regained control and uttered some words unfamiliar to Lucky. Koros, speaking his language, told him that he was a relative of the prince and asked that he take them to him immediately. The guard, weary of this story, grabbed for his sword and reached toward Koros. As he did, Lucky stepped between them. Lightning fast, he thrust the man’s arm upwards in such a quick and unexpected motion that his sword went flying into the air and landed at the bottom of the stairs. The surprised guard now stood staring, defenseless against the two men. Lucky spun him around and shoved him forward.
Lucky turned to Koros.
“Tell him to take us to the prince immediately.”
Koros repeated what Lucky said and the guard, seeing it was futile to protest, began leading the men to the main floor. There was no penthouse back then but there was The Great Hall on the main floor, from where Vlad the Impaler ruled his country.
Lucky was concerned. He knew a little of the man’s reputation – a competent ruler but a brutal murderer known for impaling his enemies. There was no doubt that Lucky and Koros would be viewed as intruders and there wasn’t a chance in hell that the ancestor would recognize Koros as a relative of his. How could he? Koros hadn’t been born yet.
The guard walked right toward Vlad himself, as he was sitting on his throne, yelling orders to his ministers. As Lucky and Koros approached, Vlad’s eyes turned to them. They remained steady and piercing, as though he could see right through them. Vlad was much younger and shorter than Lucky had imagined. Who would think that someone of his physical stature could carve such a niche for himself in the history books? It just didn’t fit, Lucky thought.
Koros could feel the exhilaration fill his body. There he was, his relative, sporting a crimson colored Turkish fez with a large jewel on the front of it. He had a long Roman nose that sat between high, oval eyebrows, and underneath the brows, were eyes as cold as steel, eyes that were now staring down at them. His coat was a woven type gold color or perhaps it was real gold. It was hard to tell.
Wow, thought Koros, so this was the guy that had struck fear in the hearts of his people.
“Who are these men?” the ruler asked.
The guard answered that he did not know and told how he had found them in the dungeon. Vlad thought for a moment. The dungeon was three stories underground with no entrance or exit other than the stairs
Koros asked if he could approach the prince. Vlad nodded and studied his face, his strange garb and then asked who he was. But before Koros could answer, the Impaler pointed at him and yelled, “How dare you enter the castle unannounced!”
Koros smiled warmly. He spoke softly, deferentially, and stated that he was his ancestor, also a very powerful man in his own time, and explained that he was visiting him from the future. He told how he had read about the great prince since he was a child and how he had always yearned to meet him. Vlad, the Impaler, stood up and motioned for his guards. When they drew near, he pointed at Koros and ordered his men to take this madman to the dungeon and put him in chains. He angrily admonished Koros for entering the premises like a thief, telling such delusional ridiculous tales.
“Take this stranger away. I have business to conduct. My ministers are waiting patiently. I do not have time to listen to this madman’s prattle. I will deal with him later.”
Lucky stood there at the rear of the room, waiting for what might happen now. Most likely, he was next. He glanced toward the door, which he made sure to remain close to, and as the guards had their attention on Koros, binding him with the heavy chains, Lucky stepped out of the door, rushed down the stairs leading to the dungeon and headed for the portal but not before the guard who had escorted the men upstairs had spotted him and launched into pursuit. But it was the guard’s chain mail armor that slowed him down significantly, giving Lucky an edge. Lucky ran quickly, panting all the way to the portal but when he turned around, there stood the guard, about ten feet away. Lucky smiled at him, gave a little wave and stepped backwards into the portal disappearing before the startled man’s eyes.
The guard stood fixated in his spot, bewildered as to what had just transpired.
Chapter Nineteen
Karl was standing quite close to the portal so Lucky almost bumped into him when he stepped out.
“Where is Mr. Koros?” he asked. “Why isn’t he with you?”
“Karl,” Lucky said, “what happened to your boss is exactly what I figured would happen. His ancestor, your boss’s idol, Vlad the Impaler, put him in chains and hauled him off. True to my name, I was lucky and I made it out of there.”
Karl looked a bit disappointed.
“Lucky, we are both soldiers. Do you remember what was drilled into us? You never leave a comrade behind. So why did you leave Koros behind?”
Lucky quickly retorted, “You’re right Karl. As soldiers, we never leave a comrade behind, except Koros is no comrade of mine. He flew me here, kidnapped my lady friend, tried to blackmail me, and slammed Mickey and me into a cell. He would have killed me, I might add, had I not helped him. But the real reason is that I didn’t have a choice. I had to run and save myself before I was next. I barely got away. And know this – I will never go back for him. He’s done. You won’t hear from him again and here’s a little free advice – take his money and go figure o
ut how to run his empire. Everyone knows you’re his right-hand man. I’m sure you could make it work.”
Karl’s wheels were turning. He looked at Lucky and said, “The only people who know about this are you and your friend?”
“You don’t have to worry about that Karl. We don’t have a dog in this fight. Do whatever you have to do. In fact, if you need my help, just ask. I never liked that prick to begin with and I warned him, I warned him, that this would happen. I promised I wouldn’t shoot him and I kept my word. Ego . . . The man’s damned ego got the best of him. What’d he think – he could go back in time, tell some crazy tale about who he was and be greeted by his ancestor with open arms? It was his rotten bastard of an ancestor that did him in. My guess is old Vlad has probably impaled him by now. Now, is the plane ready?”
It was all happening too fast for Karl. He was a follower, not a leader.
Karl half talking to himself said, “If I could figure a way to get the money out of the banks, then there is a possibility that I could run his empire and no one would be the wiser. His reclusive nature would hide the fact that he isn’t the one making the decisions. Everyone would just assume that it was him.”
Lucky was anxious to get going, but he couldn’t help thinking that getting the money out of the banks would be harder than Karl thought.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out Karl. Now we have to get going,” he said as he glanced out the window. There it was, the plane, on Vlad’s private runway.
“Mickey, let’s get the Princess and get out of here.”
Mickey grabbed the bottom of the wheelchair while Lucky grabbed the back of it and because Koros had the key to the dungeon elevator with him, the men began the slow climb up the stairs to the regular house elevator. It was a tough trek getting her up three flights of stairs.
The flight was smooth and landed at JFK without incident. Nicky Bell, a friend of Lucky’s who had helped him secure three nuclear bombs and take down a Muslim terrorist attack six months ago, was waiting outside in the black Navigator. He drove them back to the compound. In the interim, Lucky took the Princess off of her medication. By the time they arrived at the compound, she was beginning to stir. Nicky stopped the car opposite the field, opened the trunk and handed Mickey and Lucky their two backpacks. Working quickly, they changed into their Delta outfits and slipped their twelfth century tunics over them. They strapped their backpacks onto their shoulders and carried the Princess to the portal, one arm over each of the men’s shoulders. Just before entering the portal, Nicky reminded them that all of her medication was in the backpack along with instructions on how to use them. Once inside the portal, the Princess began moving about every so slightly, in an attempt to recover from her drug-induced sleep. She slowly opened her eyes, and although she couldn’t see clearly yet, tried to look at who was holding her close. She could not see his face, as she was facing away from him, but she felt him and he felt her. Her proximity made Lucky realize how long it had been since he had held a woman this close. His loins were coming alive and he glanced around to look at her. She was beautiful.
“Don’t worry Princess,” he said, “We journey to your home. You have ailed for many days now, but your ailment has eased and your sister awaits. Her face will light with joy when she feasts her eyes upon you, dear Princess.”
“What do you call yourself?” she asked. “And where do we stand this moment? What is this strange path we take?”
“Well, we are between worlds. Grasp onto me. As I step, you step. If weakness besots you, hold on. I won’t let you descend.”
Within moments, the Princess, with the help of the Mickey and Lucky, stepped out of the portal and onto the castle grounds. The Princess, her strength slowly returning, looked around, not at all sure of how she had arrived, but quickly she began to walk toward the castle gate with the two men following behind. She walked and stumbled a bit, her legs and muscles still weary from not having used them for so long. The King’s soldiers caught the figures in the distance and could witness the struggles of a woman. Four guards ran to her. Working quickly but carefully, they proceeded to lift her body into the air and carry her the rest of the way into the castle.
“Please,” she said, “take me to Queen Alexandra.”
The men and the Princess entered the castle, walked down the long hallway and into the Great Hall. There inside, a multitude of guests sat, surrounding the Queen and King, at some sort of palace affair that included a lavish dinner. The Queen, perched high on a dais, spotted activity in the distance with a body held high in the air. She squinted her eyes and immediately recognized the clothing. It was her sister’s clothing. Her eyes began to tear, her head filled with morbid thoughts. Men marching with a body held high in the air was normally not a good sign. She began to sob uncontrollably. The King turned to her.
“What is it dear Queen?”
“Look towards the hall,” she answered. “The men bring forth my deceased sister.”
The King stood and whispered something to his footman. The footman left his station. Just seconds later, he returned, running quickly. He leaned into the King’s ear. The King nodded and rose from his seat.
“And now we have a special surprise,” he announced to his guests.
The Queen, quite distraught, looked up at him, her lips pursed in anger, her teeth clenched tightly. She was furious and she was hurt. How could this man dare think of announcing such misfortune? How dare he in this time of pain?
“Sires and maidens, men and women of this kingdom, allow me to introduce the Queen’s sister, Princess Krystina,” and before he could finish, the four kingsmen gently placed the Princess’s legs onto the floor. Two of the men assumed positions behind her while two others, one on each side of her, draped her arms around their necks and guided her as she walked slowly towards her sister.
The Queen, upon seeing this, jumped from her seat and began to cross the room, trying her best to run, shoving her long robe out of the way, until finally she ripped it off and flung it to the floor.
The two sisters, tears streaming down their faces, arms open wide, embraced. There they stood, in the midst of the gala, holding each other, weeping out loud, as the Queen stroked her sister’s hair.
“Krystina, my eyes deceive me,” the Queen said. “You are true. How do you feel? Oh no, dismiss that question. Just rest dear sister. Please, please come and sit next to me and when strength prevails, advise me of your health.”
It was then that the Queen spotted her two other companions. Her face glowed with happiness. Mickey and Lucky were standing in the background.
“Wizard, you and your apprentice must sit with us,” the Queen instructed as she glanced toward a servant. The servant immediately left and returned with three chairs.
“Now, please… tell me everything,” the Queen said as they walked toward the dais. “How did this come to be?”
As they approached, the King stood and greeted them warmly. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned for the three chairs to be brought over near them and waved his hand to indicate their placement. Two were placed to his right, for Lucky and Mickey, and one was placed to the left of the Queen, for her sister.
Lucky, still walking with the Queen, leaned to her and said, “The Princess should have spent more time recovering, but alas, it was important that she journey to her own time, to you. When dinner is complete, rest is needed. Looks may sometimes deceive, but I have potions that she must take for a while. The servants and you will need to watch guard. Even though she may profess to take the magic pills herself, she may not understand the divine order and timing of the potions.”
The Queen smiled and nodded.
“When you have the time, dear wizard, I would like to hear what magic was performed. She looks so well.”
The Queen looked down for a moment and looked up again.
“I prayed to the gods with all my heart for the great wizard to return to us. My head understood that only you, with your magic, could h
eal my sister. You have once again looked upon us with favor, this now the most important time of all. I am forever in your debt.”
Lucky smiled. “It was my honor to be of assistance,” he responded.
“I’m afraid,” the Queen said sheepishly, “that I have a great sin to confess. I used magic to have you come to me. I was frantic and prayed in the old tongue. I said in my prayers that it was serious, that my sister was dying and I needed you and now I must admit my shame.”
“No need for guilt, dear Queen,” Lucky answered. “I needed to return. There was something here that beckoned me, so you see; we needed each other, in a sort. Just rejoice in the fact that your sister is back and she is on mark to have great health again and . . . more beautiful than ever.”
The Queen looked down at her feet for a moment then looked up at Lucky.
“You like her, don’t you? Does your heart hold her fondly?” she said with a glint in her eye.
“Why, yes,” Lucky answered, “I suppose so. I’m just glad that I was able to assist. Look, don’t you think that wisdom beckons you tell your father the good news?”
“Yes. He shall be thrilled,” the Queen said excitedly. “He loves his daughter very much.”
“He loves both his daughters very much,” Lucky corrected.
Not wanting to interrupt, King Robert waited for a moment and approached Lucky. He placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “I solicit you and Sire Mickey to accompany me on a journey. My tax collector is at present surveying the number of Lords and Serfs who inhabit the shires of Briton. This is necessary in order to be fair to all kinsmen and the tax payments required of them. So whilst that is taking place, I shall seize these moments to engage in sport and to give attention to another matter. Wild boar is abundant in the kingdom. Should luck be on our shoulders, we may find the antlered beast as well; however, the crooked horned ones are not as bountiful. That is what we will do,” he said in half whisper.