The Time Portal 3: The Princess

by Joe Corso

  “Hell is the highest reward that the devil can offer you for being a servant of his.”

  I refuse to be the devil’s servant any longer and I sure as hell don’t want any reward of his. Thank you for getting me out of there. You have my word. Our agreement remains.”

  Chapter Twenty – Eight

  The men all sat in the lounge and enjoyed one last drink before saying their goodbyes. Lucky, normally highly energetic, felt tired and drained for some reason. He wanted to get back to the safe house, find a place to crash and just chill for a while. He walked the men to their car parked in the lot adjacent to the hotel and waited for them to drive off. His car was parked in the same lot. It was only a short drive to the safe house. All the way there, he kept squinting, hoping that this headache, something he never got, would go away.

  At the house, he said a quick hello to the guys and headed straight for his bed, hoping to rest off his head pain. He fell solidly and deeply into sleep. In his dream, he was lost in a netherworld, couldn’t find his way out. There were forests melting and buildings falling into puddles and then rearranging themselves back into buildings, and forests again appearing. Men firing at him were chasing him and to protect himself, he picked up a metal plate and used it as a shield. The shield didn’t work as the bullets penetrated it and struck him, only when he looked at his body, there was no blood. In his dream, he was calling out for Mickey but Mickey couldn’t hear him. Suddenly, he now was on his back, looking at the sky with the sun shining brighter than he had ever seen it, beating down on him, getting hotter and hotter, but seconds later, light turned to dark and it was pitch black, just like it was when he opened his eyes in his room. The brightness and darkness alternated with disturbing regularity, until he felt someone’s hands grabbing him, shaking him. It was Mickey, asking if he was all right.

  “Bad dream, that’s all,” Lucky answered as he felt his shirt, completely drenched in sweat.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Buddy boy, you slept for twelve hours. You’ve been turning and tossing all night long. That must have been some beaut of a dream.”

  Lucky got up from the bed, walked to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. His eyes hurt him almost as badly as they did when they took the bandages off his head and eyes for the first time after his injury. Lucky noticed something different. The abnormally bad vision, to which he had become accustomed, had changed. He now saw energy radiating off of three-dimensional objects but they were vibrating. For example, the wall had always radiated energy only now it radiated energy and also vibrated. He had no idea what any of this meant to him, to his gifts, to his ability.

  Chapter Twenty – Nine

  The King, along with five of his men, left in the wee morning hours and set out on their hunt. The King was anxious to use the new bow that Lucky had given him. The six men entered the forest, riding on familiar paths, the hounds leading the men, until they caught the scent of a wild boar and began the chase. Deeper and deeper, they rode into the dense foliage of Sherwood Forest. Galloping through the narrow lanes, they came upon two hunters. The hunters could not believe their good fortune and bowed as the King and his men rode swiftly past their eyes fixated until the royal party rounded the curved path and had cleared their sight. They checked their bows, reloaded them and were about to resume their hunt when they heard a commotion from the direction of the King and his entourage.

  Background

  When the Crusades finally ended, just ten percent of the men fighting were knights when the last European Christian soldiers had been driven out of Acta. But within the soldiers’ ranks, there were renegades, soldiers of fortune, hired mercenaries and foreign soldiers returning to England and France after the fall of Acre. Some of these men wore the white mantle and red symbol of a Templar across their chest, but they were undeserving to wear the vestments of so noble an order – they were false Templars, imposters using stolen Templar knightly raiment taken from Templars killed in battle. The clothes were used as a ruse to kidnap and then ransom nobles, true knights or rich merchants in exchange for gold or silver. When there was no gold or silver, they accepted valuable jewels. The more important the captive, the larger the ransom demands.

  It happened that a troupe of around thirty mercenaries were traveling on the King’s highway traversing through England, making their way to France when they heard dogs barking. Several men dismounted and began to push back some of the heavy brush far enough to see a group of men following hounds that were chasing a wild boar. They returned to their horses, banded together, and monitored the activities closely, but at a safe distance, so as to still be hidden in the dense foliage. They watched, as off in a clearing, one man cornered the animal and used his weapon to kill the beast. Their timing was perfect. Upon seeing how the many men were distracted, the mercenaries leapt from behind the forest foliage, surrounded the men, and ordered them to lay down their arms. The King nodded to his men giving them permission to comply.

  The leader of the intruders, sitting proudly atop his handsome destrier, strode forward. A long black beard, with gray streaks running down the sides, covered his face. Gray, shaggy eyebrows framed his fierce, blue eyes. He appeared to be about forty years of age and his persona resonated with a power indicative of that of a fierce warrior, supreme authority. The man dismounted and stood before the King. King Robert, dressed as a commoner in hunting attire, spoke first.

  “It seems that you have no mind of who stands before you, Sire.”

  The leader, ignoring his comments, turned to a man on a horse beside him and calmly said, “Lucas, assume charge of these men with bindings to yonder trees.”

  Lucas quickly dismounted, along with several of his men, and began walking the King’s men off farther into the distance.

  “What do you call yourself?” asked the King.

  “I call myself James. And you Sire?”

  “I call myself King, King Robert.”

  James looked at the King and began to laugh.”

  “Men, did your ears receive these words? This sire calls himself the ‘King’,” he said mockingly.

  “Sire James, you may want to give pause to the activities you commence. You tread torrential waters by holding a man, any man, especially a leader such as a King.”

  “Well, ‘King Robert’, then if you are indeed a King, that makes your value thrice more the pence.”

  “Be careful what you wish for Sire James, for I have working for me a great and fearsome man, a wizard, who will come at my bidding and conquer you and all of your men if you do not desist and release the King and his men immediately. No ransom is worth your life, Sire James,” the King responded.

  “Well, King,” James answered, “it is a chance fraught with risk, but one that gives me pleasure with visions of all it buys. As for your wizard and your threats, they present no sleepless nights to me.”

  King Robert glared at him, coldly, eyes to eyes. He lifted his chin in defiance.

  “You are no Templar,” the King said. “A Templar would not bring dishonor upon his order in manners such as this. The uniform is not your own.”

  “Your words are wise, King. A fallen soldier of God allowed me his donnery as, poor man, he had no need for them anymore. They afford me great things, this costume. Now, how far is your castle, if one exists, King Robert?”

  The King, guarded by two men, was allowed to remain free for the evening. The Kings’ escorts were not so fortunate. All five men remained bound, each to a tree. James’s men prepared a fire, and the wild boar, thanks to today’s kill, was prepared and cooked for dinner.

  The following morning, James untied one of the King’s men, presented him with a letter and ordered him to depart. The letter, meant for the Queen, contained instructions on how the ransom was to be paid. It demanded ten thousand pieces of silver for the King’s return and another two thousand for each of the King’s knights and escorts.

  The leader turned to his men and said in a voice loud enough
for all to hear.

  “Well, we shall see for sure if royalty lives in our midst. If so, what great fortune have we. If not, then our hunger has been answered by partaking of the finest that nature provides, fine game suitable for a ‘King',” he laughed.

  His men, thinking this to be equally funny, all joined in, filling the forest with echoes of laugher, all at the King’s expense.

  The King heard his words – the leader had made sure – and sat under an oak tree, the ‘prison tree’ as he so nick-named it, and contemplated this situation. He turned his thoughts to the wizard who had become his friend. Lucky was one thousand years into the future and had no way of knowing that King Robert was in trouble, in need of his assistance.

  Meanwhile, the two hunters, the ones who had bowed and payed homage to the King were nearby. They had witnessed these events but felt outnumbered and helpless. There were too many marauders for two men with two bows, but instead of retreating, the men chose to remain hidden, but close.

  For some reason, as of late, Lucky's senses had been evolving. He noticed it. They were becoming more acute, more sensitive. The day of the fight when Lucky defeated the town champion, he couldn't explain how he knew an archer, a man hiding in a tree, was about to kill him, but somehow he had felt it, turning just before the arrow struck and firing his gun. Even though the man hid among the dense upper branches of a distant tree, Lucky, with his expert marksmanship, struck him in the shoulder, knocking him out of the tree.

  And now here it was again – that same feeling. The hair on his arms stood on edge. He was jittery for no reason. Lucky walked over to the window of the safe house, looked out but saw nothing suspicious. He opened the front door, looked up and down the street, but again, nothing. He then asked Mickey to step outside and check the back alley that separated the safe house from another house facing the opposite direction. Mickey returned moments later stating that nothing looked out of the ordinary.

  “Mickey, get your weapon and our delta outfits,” Lucky said. “We’re going on a trip.”

  He had never tried what he was about to, but it had to be done. Rejecting instinct was always a bad idea, with or without supernatural powers. Lucky closed his eyes and concentrated, visualizing, summoning the energy fields that had taken him to foreign lands in centuries long past, eras only known from history books. Mickey watched, asked no questions, and stood patiently until finally Lucky tugged on his arm and asked him to follow him. It worked. The portal was there.

  The two hunters, still hidden and hoping to rescue their King, were discovered by James’s men after returning from a reconnoiter. Easily, they overtook and subdued the hunters and took them back to James, their leader. James began to circle the men in an attempt to intimidate them, all the while interrogating them. What did they know? Who sent them? Why were they lurking around the area spying on the actions of James and his men? Were there others hiding in the forest in other camps? The men answered no, truthfully to each question, but that simply wasn’t enough for James. He did not believe their proclamations of innocence.

  “Take them both. Have them make company with the others,” he said pointing to the King’s men still bound to the trees.

  Several of his men moved forward to obey his orders but stopped, suddenly. They stared at what was before them. Lucky and Mickey materialized right before their eyes. James, busy snacking on a large piece of boar left over from the previous night’s meal, instinctively dropped it to the ground. One of the men who had advanced, began to slowly back up, while the other was too afraid to move at all. Two black clad devils had suddenly appeared from thin air, and in doing so had instilled pure, unadulterated fear into all watching. The looks on the men’s faces said it all.

  King Robert seized the moment.

  “I spoke of the great wizard to James. My mind summoned him. And now, you must manifest your strength by claiming defeat.”

  ‘Well, thanks, King’, Lucky thought. ‘Nice of you to throw me under the bus like that,’ he thought as he smiled at the King.

  At that moment, one of James’s men raised his battleax, more as a threat to Mickey than anything else, but Mickey wasted no time reacting. He fired one shot piercing the man’s chain mail, slicing into his thick armor like a hot knife through butter, and bringing down both the man and his axe. The man managed to pick himself up, reorganize and try again. He drew his sword and came this time toward Lucky, first with a lunge, and then with a swipe of the sword arching downward. Just as he was about to strike him, the apparition disappeared and then reappeared behind him. Lucky spun the man around and punched him soundly into his exposed face, landing him on the ground once again. Both he and Mickey now aimed their guns and systematically began shooting, knocking the men, those on horses and those standing, onto to the ground. They fired almost in unison until there was no one left but James. The two men replaced the clips in their guns and looked around to make sure there were no surprises. Everything appeared to be under control.

  Lucky walked over to King Robert.

  “Are you well, King?” Lucky asked.

  The King nodded and smiled.

  “Yes, I am well.”

  King Robert approached James.

  “It was all foretold. The Great Wizard is my friend. His powers reign supreme.”

  James looked around at all of his men lying in agony and whispered, almost as if he were speaking to himself, “In all my many battles, not once have men been felled in totality by such short movement of the sun’s shadow. The wizard possesses powers unlike all other. I surrender to Your Majesty.”

  Thinking quickly, James covered his heart and made his way over to one of his men, pretending to be concerned for him. As he examined the man’s chest, splattered with red seeping from a hole that appeared to be from the right of his heart, he dipped his own hand into the blood that was dripping slowly down the man’s side onto the ground, and rubbed it onto his own chest, feigning injury.

  What had just happened was unlike all other for the King’s men and the hunters, as well. All had fallen silent, as one by one, the wounded men, all alive, stumbled toward the wizard, gathered close and bowed to Lucky and Mickey. So this was the wizard – the one that everyone sang of. The two hunters had heard tales of this great man, everyone had. The men’s wives had spoken of seeing him pass through their town as he rode with the Queen and her escorts, but the men were never quite sure if he existed as many women engaged in such fobble. But here he stood, the great man and his fellow wizard. They had calmed the thunder, just as the tales had been told, and they had conquered thirty men in just moments. This was a story that would live on for centuries and they could not wait to tell their wives and neighbors what they had seen.

  The King turned to the two hunters.

  “What is your purpose?” he asked.

  “We were in search of game, Your Majesty, when you passed forth in the forest. As we departed, there were sounds that caused alarm. We hastened toward these noises whereupon we witnessed your capture. In wait, we remained, while wishing to come forth with assistance.”

  The King smiled.

  “Loyalty merits reward, dear sires. Join with us on our journey as we depart for the King’s castle. Your loyalty to your sovereign is noted. Take two of the intruders’ finest horses. They are now for your keep. James, you and your wounds and your still breathing men will journey on foot alongside us.”

  The King and his entourage started their trek back to the castle. Ever so slowly they rode through the forest. For hours, they leisurely trotted, trading hunting stories and listening to Lucky tell them about some of his most wondrous “magic”. No one cared about James and his men. A few hours later, while on their way back to the castle, there was sound in the distance, the familiar sound of a horse galloping quickly as if urgently. They ground to a halt as the rider advanced toward them at a rapid pace. The rider moved toward the King, approached him closely and halted and the two men sat face-to-face looking at each other. It was the King’s
knight, the one sent by James to secure a ransom. He was surprised to see the King riding boldly in front of the mercenaries who had recently held him hostage. The knight held out a letter. The King already knew its content without reading it, but smiled as the letter confirmed how his dear wife, the Queen, would respond. Rather than read it aloud and allow James any ideas for the future, he put the parchment into his hunter’s pants and resumed riding as though nothing had ever happened.

  After long hours and days of travel, the King and his captives finally arrived at the outside gates leading to his castle grounds. The monarch and his group of men passed a growing crowd of spectators as the mercenaries staggered on foot. Armed knights immediately took positions at the edge of the bridge and evenly spaced themselves all along the sides. Two men scurried away to alert the Queen and the Princess who, for many hours, had awaited their arrival.

  Chapter Thirty

  “What gave you knowledge?” the Queen asked.

  “Knowledge?” Lucky asked in return.

  “Awareness of the King’s danger and . . . awareness of the King’s whereabouts.”

  Krystina tilted her head slightly to the side and chimed in.

  “I want to know also.”

  “Well, to do the tale justice, it requires great discussion but the brevity of it is simple. My magic, it would seem, affords me great ability to feel when something is amiss. But, it occurs with those for whom my heart is fond. When circumstance is dire, I feel with them as though two stars in the night sky are perfectly aligned. There is an energy of send–receive. It is part of the magic. Just as the Queen sought me in prayer for the Princess during her time of ailing, so did the King summon me in his time of danger.”

  King Robert sat in his chair listening intently. He spoke.