Guardians of Time

by Sarah Woodbury

  Anna herself wasn’t sure she really wanted to see the bus crash at all, though she was probably required to do so since she was one of the people who had to fear for her life in order for the time travel to work. She prodded David’s toe with hers. “They’re happy to be here.”

  “I’m really glad to know that. I thought they would be, once they started thinking about all the people and things they’d missed over the last year. I just hope—” David cut himself off.

  “What do you hope?” Mom said.

  David licked his lips. “I just hope that what they’re going home to is still there. You guys left Cardiff in kind of a mess. Who knows what damage those terrorists have done in the last year?”

  “That would be their fault,” Anna said, knowing where her brother’s thoughts had headed, “not yours.”

  David gave a disparaging click of his tongue. “Even I am not so full of self-importance as to think I’m in any way responsible for the problems of the modern world, but I did give Lee back to them. It’s been three months! A year in the Middle Ages was probably the best thing that ever happened to Lee, because it allowed him to elude the authorities to the point of dropping completely off the radar.”

  “All set, my lord.” Callum appeared in front of David, with his wife, Cassie; and time travelers Darren Jeffries and Peter Cobb in tow.

  When Callum had arrived in the Middle Ages, he’d been a capable, even superior, MI-5 agent, but one suffering from his experience in war and too honorable to be happy serving employers who had less honor than he did. A few months in David’s service had given him purpose, focusing his energies and intelligence and turning him into one of David’s closest confidants. Now, as the Earl of Shrewsbury, he was one of the most powerful men in England to boot.

  Leaving space for Callum to sit directly behind the driver, Cassie set her backpack on the floor in front of her, took the next seat down, and buckled up. She wore jeans, a sweater, and a leather jacket, all of which fit her well since they were hers. She, along with those of them who were planning to return to the Middle Ages once their work in the twenty-first century was done, had stored their medieval clothing for the return journey in the back of the bus.

  At the moment, Anna’s mother wore the modern clothes she’d borrowed from Cassie’s aunt’s house last Thanksgiving when she and Anna had traveled on Thanksgiving Day. Though David himself hadn’t had the pleasure of that experience, he meant to model this trip on that one: on Christmas Eve, the authorities would be short-staffed, thinking more about presents and ham dinners than tracking rogue time travelers across the planet. The only real drawback was that it meant missing Christmas with their children.

  Just like last time too, Mom wore the Pendleton wool coat she’d borrowed from Cassie’s aunt, which should keep her as warm as the thick wool cloak she normally wore. Anna wore the clothes she’d borrowed too, including the puffy purple parka she’d had to forgo once they’d returned to medieval Gwynedd. Peter Cobb wore casual clothing (not his fatigues), which he’d had in his duffel when he arrived in the Middle Ages on the bus, but Callum and Darren were looking extremely handsome, dressed as they were once again in their MI-5 suits and trench coats. Anna knew for a fact that Callum had secreted his gun at the small of his back, making it almost a given that Darren had too.

  That left Papa and David in best-they-could-do medieval replicas of modern garb, which was pretty hilarious and ironic when Anna thought about it. Both wore wool pants over their regular leather boots, a linen shirt, and a wool sweater over the top. Somewhere David might still have the clothes he’d come to the Middle Ages wearing ten years ago, but it wasn’t as if they would fit him.

  “Is everyone here?” Anna looked up at Callum.

  “According to my list, they are,” David said.

  Mom clasped her hands in front of her lips and studied David and Anna over the top of them. “You do know that to return a busload of people from the Middle Ages to the twenty-first century is completely mad.”

  “Yup,” Anna caught her brother’s eye and saw the same recklessness in his expression that had suddenly swept over her.

  “You have no idea where we’re going to end up,” Mom said.

  “No, we don’t,” Anna said.

  David’s chin firmed. “But I sure do hope we run into Lee.”

  At which point Anna thought, but didn’t say, be careful what you wish for! In David’s case, wishes had a disconcerting tendency to come true.

  Chapter Two

  Anna

  Anna kept her eyes fixed on Math, whom she could see through the window as he stood outside the bus. His tousled black hair was wet from the rain, and she was noticing only now that she couldn’t do anything about it that it had grown longer than she usually let it. She reminded herself to give him a haircut when she came home.

  Then she smiled at him, though she felt her eyes fill with tears as she did so.

  Anna had said goodbye to her boys earlier, not wanting them here to witness whatever came next. Cadell had stood solemnly before Math as he’d explained that David was taking the adults to Avalon and that Cadell would need to protect his cousins in their parents’ absence. Bran knew she was taking a trip, which Anna did occasionally. Usually, it was to medical clinics in the region or to collect herbal remedies from across Britain, some of which were remarkably effective and rivaled—or even were better than—modern drugs. Unfortunately, none could address her mother’s cancer or Shane’s.

  Lili and Bronwen had also remained behind with Arthur, Gwenllian, and the twins, none of whom needed to see what happened with the bus—whatever that might be.

  It was already later in the afternoon than David had anticipated leaving. They were coming off a large Christmas feast in the hall at the university in Llangollen. The party had been for villagers, students, visiting scholars, and bus passengers alike, in lieu of any celebration up at the castle tomorrow. David was hoping that people, in general, wouldn’t mind that the feast had been held on Christmas Eve instead of on Christmas Day.

  The festivities had actually begun before noon, but while they’d intended to spend a couple of hours at the gathering, they hadn’t planned on it being nearly dark by the time they set out. This close to the solstice, the sun set at 3:30 in the afternoon. Yet Anna and Math hadn’t felt they could leave until the feast was well and truly over. At least none of them had to stay to clean up—one of the many perks of being part of the Welsh royal family.

  Anna blinked back her tears again, and when they wouldn’t stay away, closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to the corners, willing herself to remain calm. She was about to face death for something she believed in. She was no more willing than David to leave the risk to others.

  “Hi there.”

  She opened her eyes to find Math right in front of her, this time inside the bus. He sat down next to her, fumbling with the unfamiliar seat belt buckle.

  Anna gaped at him. “What—Math, no—you’re supposed to be regent in Papa’s absence.”

  “You’re not glad to see me?”

  “Of course I’m glad to see you.”

  Math smirked. “So then don’t tell me to get off the bus. I’m coming with you.”

  “You can’t!”

  Math tsked through his teeth. “I asked you once if you would return to Avalon if you could, and you said you weren’t going anywhere without me. At the time, I told you that I had no intention of giving you a choice. What kind of husband would I be if I let you go alone now under these circumstances?”

  Anna put her head on his shoulder while at the same time reaching for his hand. She didn’t know what to say, because of course she wanted him with her. But it was reckless and irresponsible of him. And yet, it was only as reckless and irresponsible as David and Papa were being.

  Math patted her hand. As she straightened up again, she saw that he and Papa were gazing at each other.

  “Did you speak with Goronwy about the change in plans?” Papa said.
>
  “He told me to go. He knows what to do,” Math said.

  Anna could see the man in question standing outside the bus, his arms folded across his chest and his mustache bristling even in the rain, which—typically for late December in Wales—had started to fall more heavily. Some years it snowed by late December, but not so far this year.

  Math squeezed Anna’s hand where it rested on his thigh. “I’m looking forward to finally seeing what’s on the other side.”

  “I am too.” David touched Jane’s shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

  Shane and Jane’s husband, Carl, sat farther back in the bus with the other passengers. Even though this was David’s plan, everyone had loudly shouted down any notion that he should drive the bus. He’d never learned to drive properly, since he’d been just fourteen when they’d come to Wales ten years ago, and he had driven only a few times since then.

  Anna would never have dared to suggest that driving a city bus into a cliff wall was beyond her brother. She wasn’t sure if anything was. But if he tipped the bus over before they reached the wall, it might not be enough danger to cause them to time travel, and then they’d be stuck trying to figure out a way to right it before returning to the beginning and going through the whole procedure again.

  Nobody wanted that. Since Jane was the mechanic, and since they were traveling in large part for Shane’s benefit, she’d taken on the task.

  “Yes, sir.” Jane started the engine, which roared to life and then settled into a well-oiled purr.

  “Nice.” David straightened, resolve in every line of his body.

  “Wait a minute!”

  Anna shifted in her seat to look behind her, and her mouth fell open to see Bridget, a woman in her mid-twenties and the last person Anna would have expected to see rising to her feet and gathering her gear. Her red curly hair framed her face in its usual untamed mane, and her green eyes gazed stonily ahead at David.

  Like everyone else who’d come to the Middle Ages on the Cardiff bus a year ago, it had taken time for Bridget to adjust to the medieval world. But as the year had progressed, she’d done better than most. Back in Avalon, Bridget had worked in a shop in Cardiff, and as with Callum, her arrival in the Middle Ages had clarified her purpose in a way the vicissitudes of modern life had not. She’d rejected the malaise of some of the other travelers her age, and made the best of a bad situation.

  She’d come to the Middle Ages with little formal education, though Anna knew her to be intelligent and more well-read than many university graduates, thanks to her local library and the internet. Bridget had a strong working class background, which meant she’d connected with the regular English folk in Shrewsbury, Callum’s seat, better than Anna or Cassie ever could.

  Her secret power was that she was a knitting aficionado, a skill that had been developed in the Middle East for luxury items in silk, cotton, or linen, but hadn’t yet reached much of Europe. Shortly after Christmas a year ago, Bridget had set up a shop in Shrewsbury, which was the wool capitol of western England, using start-up funds given to her by Callum.

  She’d begun producing knitted woolen products, among them hats, mittens, scarves, and sweaters—one of which David was currently wearing. Before spring, she’d hired three employees, and by autumn, with demand growing by leaps and bounds, she’d employed ten.

  What’s more, Callum had seen qualities in her that had been lost on her society in her old life and turned her shop into the clearing house for his spy network. Rather than having informants make the trek up to the castle to deliver news, thus revealing themselves to anyone who might wonder what business they could have with the earl, they now brought their news to Bridget. In turn, Bridget passed what she learned on to one of Callum’s lieutenants: Samuel, the sheriff of Shrewsbury; or Peter Cobb, his right-hand man. Or so she had done until today.

  Bridget marched up to David. “What’s this about Mark coming back here with you?”

  David glanced down the bus towards Mark Jones, the man in question. He was one of the former MI-5 agents who’d come with Anna and her mother on the bus from Cardiff and had found a place in the Middle Ages working for Callum. As Anna watched, Mark raised his shoulders in an elaborate shrug and mouthed the word, sorry.

  David looked back to Bridget, hesitating before answering and clearly stalling so as to give himself time to figure out how to reply. Bridget kept her gaze fixed on him, and finally he said, “It was the only way to get him on the bus, short of handcuffing him to a rail.”

  “You didn’t tell me that I had that choice,” Bridget said.

  Peter, who’d remained standing near David at the front of the bus, put out a hand to her shoulder. “It’s going be okay, Bridget—”

  Bridget flailed out her right arm, smacking his hand away. “Don’t patronize me.”

  Eyebrows in his hairline, his mouth forming a whoo, Peter put up both hands, palms out, and stepped back. “No, ma’am.”

  That didn’t appease Bridget in the way Peter might have been hoping for because Bridget turned her glower on him. “I don’t suppose you’re staying either.”

  Peter’s eyes shifted nervously towards David and then back to Bridget. “Er … no.”

  Bridget swung back to David. “So why do I have to come at all?”

  “I suppose, when it comes down to it, you don’t.” He cleared his throat. “But you have to be really sure this is what you want because I’m not doing this again. If you get off this bus, you’re living in the Middle Ages for the rest of your life.”

  Bridget turned to look again at Peter. “Are you coming back for sure?”

  Peter fell back on his military training, clasping his hands together behind his back and standing at parade rest. “Yes.”

  “Do you promise?”

  Peter looked at her warily. David’s eyes were flicking between the two of them, a slight smile on his lips, and then he shifted forward and lowered his voice. “Bridget, I will bring him home if it is at all possible for me to do so.”

  Bridget chewed on her lower lip, studying Peter, who had the look of a man who knew that something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what that something was.

  “What?” he finally said when she still hadn’t moved from her spot—about six inches from where he was standing.

  By way of an answer, Bridget took the lapels of his coat in her fists, tugged on him so he had to bend towards her while she stood on tiptoe, and kissed him full on the mouth.

  To his credit, Peter responded instantly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him so he could return the kiss properly.

  Everybody around them burst into laughter, even David, though he rolled his eyes at Anna when the kiss went on longer than a few seconds. Finally, Bridget and Peter let go of one another, moving apart enough for their gazes to meet.

  Whatever Bridget saw in Peter’s eyes seemed to decide something for her, because she nodded, turned to David, and poked him in the chest with one finger. “Okay. I’m holding you to that.” Then she picked up her hat, gloves, and backpack from where she’d left them on a nearby seat, marched down the aisle to the back door, and left the bus.

  Peter’s normally pale face had flushed all the way to the roots of his dark blond hair, which he still kept extremely short for ease of care, and his expression was stunned—probably not only at the kiss but also at Bridget’s subsequent departure.

  “What just happened?” he said.

  Grinning wildly, Darren clapped him on the shoulder. “If you don’t know the answer to that, my friend, you truly are a hopeless case.”

  Callum gripped Peter’s upper arm. “You should get off the bus. Follow her.”

  Peter glanced in the direction Bridget had gone and then cleaned the window of steam with his fist in order to peer through the glass. “Don’t you need me?”

  “We could use you, it’s true,” Callum said.

  “But do you really want to leave it like that?” Cassie said from behind him. “You want to b
e with her, right?”

  “Of course, I do.” Peter straightened to look at Cassie. “I’d get off this bus in a heartbeat if—” He broke off, his eyes moving now to David’s face.

  “If what?” David said.

  Peter took in a breath. “If I didn’t feel obligated to you, sire.”

  David shook his head. “For the last few hours, I’ve had a nagging feeling in my stomach about how few of us are remaining behind. I didn’t say anything because it would be unfair of me to ask anyone to sacrifice the opportunity to go home, but it would relieve my mind very much to know you were here holding the fort.”

  Peter puffed out his cheeks and released a breath but didn’t answer.

  “Speak, Peter,” Callum said.

  Anna had spent enough time with Peter over the last year to know that the command was necessary. It wasn’t so much that his upper lip was British stiff. He was perfectly talkative when it came to work or an investigation he was conducting for Callum. But he was one of those men who had a particularly hard time conveying to anyone else what he was feeling. For him, showing no emotion and speaking little was ingrained.

  He managed it this time, at least to Callum. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I’m glad to stay. I was dreading going back almost as much as Bridget, though I didn’t realize it until right now.” He turned to Darren. “Call my parents. Let them know I’m alive.”

  “I’ll tell them you’re working undercover in Botswana,” Darren said.

  Peter nodded. “That will make sense to them.” He blew out another breath and looked around at his friends. “Good luck.”

  “The sooner you get off this bus,” David said, with a smile splitting his face, “the sooner we can get this show on the road.”

  Peter followed the path Bridget had taken, and David hit the intercom so the people on the second level could hear him too.

  “Folks, in a minute we’ll be on our way. Just as a reminder of what’s going to happen so nobody is surprised: the road winds down the hill, and then it will straighten out and head directly towards the bottom of the cliff. Jane’s going to get going as fast as this old bus can travel on a gravel road. We plan to hit the cliff wall at speed, and Jane has promised not to put her foot on the brake.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like everybody to fasten their seat belts. The ride might get a bit bumpy.”