by P. T. McHugh
“Gunfire,” I replied grimly. “Dresden’s closer than we thought. We don’t have much time.”
I pushed forward, increasing our pace to nearly a sprint. If the stone was going to be warning me of any dangers, it meant that we could move faster than we had been. And right now, time was of the essence.
We wove through the narrow passages without rest, crawling when we couldn’t stand straight, and scrambling over rocks and gullies as we came to them. Behind us, the men on our trail had started shouting threats and promises about what would happen to us when they caught us. Dresden hadn’t come himself, but he’d told his soldiers what to say to cause the most damage, and they weren’t being shy about their threats.
“There are at least ten of them back there,” I huffed, squeezing desperately past a boulder that had fallen to block the tunnel. “They have guns and swords, but I think they’re moving slower than we are.”
When I got past the boulder I resumed my sprint, my breathing rough and unsteady. I’d been caught once, and I wasn’t going to let it happen again, especially with Doc out there and in danger. I squeezed the handle of the dagger I had in my pocket, wondering if I could bring myself to fight if I had to. Anything would be better than being captured again.
“What are you talking about, they sound like they’re right behind us!” Tatiana gasped, catching me at the turn.
William pounded along behind us, his wasted body struggling to keep up, and I threw my senses back into the tunnel behind us. I didn’t think they were as close as Tatiana believed. They were noisy, though, and the sound bounced off these walls endlessly. I was having trouble getting an exact read on where our pursuers actually were.
“Are you sure you know where this leads?” she asked now, glancing ahead into the darkness. “Are you certain this will get us out of here?”
I turned my head so she could hear me clearly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Tatiana. Now are you going to keep questioning me, or are we going to get the hell out of here?”
“Okay, okay, sorry,” she replied.
“Don’t be sorry. Just move faster.”
Suddenly, the tunnel began to grow wider around us. Natural light came from ahead, indicating that we were nearing the surface.
“Thanks be to God,” William sighed. He put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. Then we pushed forward with one last burst of speed. Outside, we could find trees, bushes, caves. Places to hide. We would be safer.
We came to a stop before a small wooden door, which stood partially open, and approached cautiously, unsure of where we were or who was around. When I pulled the door open, though, nothing but a wave of bright light entered. We were free.
Mostly.
Tree roots and vines as thick as my arms covered the small opening. The tunnel ended in the side of a hill, and must have been all but invisible through the thick crop of juniper trees and scrub brush it hid behind. Unfortunately, that same brush had grown across the opening, leaving only hand-sized holes in the doorway.
I couldn’t believe it. We’d come this far, escaped Dresden’s castle and the threat of torture, were on our way to finding Doc, and now we had to fight roots and vines? We didn’t have time to delay–Dresden’s soldiers were right on our tracks, coming up behind us in the tunnel. They’d be here in a matter of minutes, and we needed to be gone by then. I pulled the dagger from my pocket and started hacking at the vines, desperate to get through. Tatiana helped, pulling at the vines as they loosened until we had a hole large enough to fit our bodies. We crawled through the thorn bushes, vines, and broken roots, stopping only when we found ourselves outside, standing on the edge of a dense wood. I looked back, trying to find the door we’d just passed through, and shook my head. I couldn’t see the hill itself, much less the tunnel or door. I wondered vaguely how far we’d come, and where we were now.
“Now what?” Tatiana asked, breaking into my thoughts. “Those soldiers are going to be here in a moment.”
“Right,” I muttered. “Well we can’t just stand around here, that’s for sure. Tatiana, you and I are on our way to Bosworth, quick as we can get there. William–”
“Is coming with you,” the man broke in, throwing me a look that dared me to argue. “If what you say is true, my brother is most likely already there. It’s imperative that I find him and tell him everything. Our world may be counting on it.”
“What about Paul and Reis?” Tatiana asked.
I noticed that she had left Katherine out, but ignored it. “We can’t worry about them right now. If Reis is as good as I think he is, they’ve already escaped on their own. With luck, they’re with Doc as we speak.”
A shot echoed out of the tunnel then and I whirled toward William. “If you’re coming with us, can you act as our guide?”
William nodded, already bouncing on the balls of his feet with the need to be gone. Another shot sounded from the tunnel behind us, the bullet tearing through the trees above my head, and I grabbed his arm.
“Then lead the way, Will, we’re wasting time!”
We stayed as close to the road as we dared, cautious of travelers and soldiers alike. If we heard anyone on the road, we darted farther into the woods to avoid being caught. I hoped that Dresden’s soldiers had lost us in the woods around the tunnel, but we couldn’t be sure, and caution was a better plan than recklessness, though we needed to hurry. The longer we traveled, the more traffic we encountered. Families were moving away from the battle, while soldiers and mercenaries flowed toward it. For the first time, I began to understand what people meant when they said a battle was brewing. The air around us almost boiled with the tension of the coming fight, the noise of the soldiers filtering constantly through the trees around us.
We walked deep into the night, using my flashlight to show us the way, and pausing for rest only when we couldn’t go on. The men on horseback may have been able to stop for the night, but we were on foot, and had a slightly tighter deadline than those men. We had to get to Doc, and quickly. I didn’t know how much farther we had to travel, but I did know that we had to get to Bosworth soon. Dresden had sent orders to have Doc killed, and it was due to happen within the next day.
Around midnight, everything changed. We were walking down the middle of the road, too exhausted for caution, when the soldiers came thundering around the turn behind us, bearing torches, swords, and large, heavy bows.
My thoughts raced through the shocking turn of events, keeping pace with the horse under me as we thundered up the road to Bosworth. The soldiers–much to my surprise and relief–had been with William’s cousin Phillip, son to the baron of Cheshire. Against all odds, they had been friends rather than enemies.
This surprising news was followed quickly by further glad tidings. Phillip was going to give us horses. And a guide by the name of Michael of Cabarus, to take William’s place. Our erstwhile friend and guide was going to continue on with his cousin, in his own race to reach his brother before the battle.
After a brief rest, we now found ourselves mounted on war horses–again–and racing toward the fight we’d been hoping to avoid. Again. With men we didn’t know, but had been assured we could trust. At this new pace, I thought, we might get to Doc within hours. And Michael had already told us that he knew the Earl of Oxford’s position, and would have no trouble locating him.
We were going to make it. For the first time in what felt like years, I allowed myself the luxury of believing that we were almost to the end of our journey. And that we’d be successful.
Then it hit me. My legs turned to jelly and all the air rushed out of my lungs. I doubled over on the horse, gasping for breath, and tried to slow the animal. Before I could stop it completely, I was falling to the ground, darkness rushing in on me. A hazy gold glow appeared at the edges of the darkness, and a humming burned through my veins.
The stones, I thought. The humming…
Then all thought was lost to the vision.
Fog, dee
per than I’d seen on my journey, lay thick above the forest floor, making its way lazily through the trees and low-lying brush. An old soldier, wearing a blue cape that only partially concealed a shimmering coat of mail, gently guided his large gray and white horse through the undergrowth. He was meandering, unhurried. Out for a casual stroll, then, his face lost in deep thought. Completely unaware of his surroundings.
I gasped as I recognized the tilt of the head, the Roman nose, and the stubborn chin. I knew this man. The old soldier was Doc.
Looking to the side, I saw three men, less than 30 feet away from the old soldier, creeping slowly toward him. Each of them was armed, one with a long bow, another with an axe, and the last with a sword. They crept on their bellies, rising up to stand behind trees when they came across them, and sending each other quiet hand signals. They were hunting, I realized; deliberately stalking their prey. And their target was my grandfather.
“Behind you!” I shouted suddenly, desperate to warn Doc. He didn’t see them, didn’t know they were there. He had no idea that there was a plot against him. No clue that there were assassins in the quiet trees around him.
It was happening, and I was too late to save him.
“Doc!” I shouted again, my voice as jagged as broken glass. But my words fell on deaf ears. After all, the thought came, I wasn’t actually in the clearing with him. My body–and my voice–was somewhere far away. The stones had only brought my consciousness.
Doc brought his horse to a stop in a clearing now, and stared into the forest, his back turned to the men who would try to kill him. He had no clue–no warning that they were there.
And there was nothing I could do.
I tried to turn my head, close my eyes so that I wouldn’t see what happened next. But the stones wouldn’t allow it. When I closed my eyes, the scene appeared in my mind. When I turned my head, the scene swung with me to remain in my vision. There was no escaping it.
As I watched, the bowman stopped moving forward, took a knee, and strung an arrow, then stood slowly up beside the trunk of a young maple tree. He drew back his string, paused for an agonizingly long moment, and released the arrow with a sharp twang. It hit my grandfather and stuck. The impact ripped Doc’s body off the horse’s back and to the ground, where he rolled to the base of a tree to lay motionless in the tall, damp grass. I felt the vision mercilessly begin to recede then, but not before I glanced down at the pocket watch in my hand. I was surprised–I hadn’t remembered bringing it with me into the vision. Now, though, I saw that it was 6:23PM, August 21. It wasn’t going to happen on the morning of the 22nd, as I had hoped. It was going to happen tonight.
I had less than twelve hours to get to Doc and save him.
My eyes flew open to find Tatiana kneeling beside me, the early morning light glowing behind her. I closed my eyes again, trying to fit myself back into my body, then jumped to my feet.
“What happened?” Tatiana asked, confused. “Are you okay?” Michael was off his horse next to her, his face concerned.
I shook my head, dismissing that question. “That doesn’t matter. We have to go. Now.”
Tatiana frowned. “We are going, Jason. We were just leaving when you–”
I waved that off as well. “Okay, well we need to go faster. We have twelve hours to get to Doc’s camp, or the jig is up.” I turned to Michael, who had been assigned to guide us.
“How quickly can you get us to Bosworth?” I snapped. My voice sounded intense, even to me, and I swallowed the rest of the sentence.
He shrugged. “Perhaps by sundown, if we ride hard.”
I was already striding toward my horse and motioning Tatiana to hers. “Then we ride as hard as we can. In twelve hours, Doc will be dead, and I’m not going to let that happen.”
33
We traveled without rest for several hours, stopping only at noon for the sake of the horses. I was beyond exhausted and sore, though I’d become more comfortable on a horse than I’d ever thought possible. We’d gone days without truly sleeping, and I was beginning to see double, but we pressed on after a short rest. We had little to no time, and a long way to ride.
Luckily, we were able to stay on easy paths and roads, avoiding the forests and fields around us. Michael and his men had a clear idea of where we were heading, and assured me that we were taking the most direct route. We saw few people in the farms and villages we passed, and experienced no trouble with those we did see. This surprised me until Tatiana noted the obvious.
“Everyone knows a battle is brewing,” she said grimly when I asked. “Anyone with a sword or pitchfork–and those without them–have been called to battle. This is the war for England, after all. Everyone’s going to be fighting.”
I nodded quietly. The war for England. The war for Doc’s life. The war for the world’s safety, though few of us knew that part. They were all wrapped up into one, now. Dresden’s men had given up chasing us at this point; we’d watched them pass us earlier in the morning, hidden in a copse with handkerchiefs over our horse’s noses to keep them quiet.
They, too, were on his way to the battle, to meet their lord. Dresden. The thought brought a renewed sense of dread.
This led quickly to another thought. Doc. Where was he? Why wasn’t he being more careful? Had Reis, Paul, and Katherine found him yet? If not, where were they? Were they safe? Even if they’d found Doc, I didn’t think they’d be able to stop what was about to happen. They didn’t have enough information.
Hours ticked away as we rode, and I watched the time carefully on the watch I now wore around my neck. Before long, we were down to only six hours, then four, and finally two. We were running out of time, and no matter how much I begged and pleaded, Michael insisted that the horses could only travel so far and so fast.
Then we stopped completely.
“What’s wrong now?” I sputtered as Tatiana and I pulled our horses alongside Michael’s. I was beyond patience or manners.
Michael and his scout stopped talking and turned in unison at my interruption.
“There are people up ahead,” Michael answered, his face creased in a frown.
“So what?” I demanded impatiently. We’d seen people on this trip, and it hadn’t stopped us before.
Michael drew a deep breath and placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled. “Boy, I have made a pledge to bring you to Bosworth, but if we encounter Dresden’s soldiers or one of the hundred well-supported bands of thieves that roam these parts, you will be going nowhere but a shallow grave. We are not the only armed men in this area, and the closer we get to the battle, the more likely we are to meeting people better armed–and far more dangerous–than ourselves. Understand?”
“Jason,” Tatiana said, pulling alongside me, “he’s right. And we both know what would happen if Dresden caught us again. Just sit tight for a moment.”
I nodded grudgingly. She was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. Showing up a few minutes late on this occasion really would mean the difference between life and death.
“Did you see anyone else?” Michael asked the scout as the two men turned their attention away from me and back toward each other.
“No, no one else,” the scout replied.
“Long bows?” Michael asked.
“Not that I could see.”
“How confident are you that they are alone?”
The scout shrugged. “Fairly confident.”
Michael shook his head, looking back at Tatiana and me. “Only fools would travel these roads so close to evening unarmed,” he said slowly. Then he shook himself. “Very well, let’s move. We do not have much time.”
We spurred our horses forward, anxious to continue. Our path led out of a heavily wooded area, and into a large clearing lush with tall, rolling grass and a large lake. It took us about ten minutes of riding to see the cart the scout had spoken of. Despite the distance of nearly 200 feet, I knew immediately who it was.
“PAUL!”
I screamed, standing in my stirrups and waving. I put my heels to my horse and asked for more speed, intent on reaching my friends.
“Oh you idiot,” Tatiana mumbled behind me. After a moment, though, I heard her horse pounding after mine.
It took me about twelve seconds to reach their position. Paul and Katherine were ecstatic when I reached them, jumping up and down like children in the back of the cart. Reis was somewhat less enthusiastic, and had his assault rifle out, aimed at Michael and his men.
“It’s okay, they’re with me,” I muttered at him. I slid off my horse before she came to a full stop and raced toward my friends, a wide grin plastered across my face.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Paul asked, jumping off the cart and giving me a giant man hug.
“It’s a long story,” I said, looking up at Katherine and Reis.
Tatiana came up beside us then and slid from her horse, laughing. Then she gasped. I glanced at her and followed her shocked gaze to look more closely at Katherine. I gasped as well.
“Are you wearing my clothes?” Tatiana asked.
Katherine looked down at her outfit and grinned. “Mine got dirty. I hope you don’t mind,” she replied, looking up.
Tatiana frowned at the other girl, and I held my breath. Then she shrugged, one corner of her mouth turning up. “I suppose I’ll survive.”
I laughed at that and turned awkwardly toward Reis. Despite my assurances, he still had his weapon trained on Michael, who had now pulled up alongside the wagon.
“It’s a long story, Reis, but they’re with me. You can trust them. They’re leading us to Bosworth,” I repeated.
“And we’re running out of time!” Tatiana added. This got Reis’ attention. He glanced at her, and then turned to me for the first time.
“What does that mean?” he snapped.
“It’s Doc, he’s about to be murdered,” I said. I pulled the watch from my pocket and glanced at it. “In less than thirty minutes.”
Reis nodded without question and gathered the reins. “Where?”