The Time Travelling Taxman Series Box Set

by Rachel Ford

  Chapter Nine

  They were seated in a large circle, trays of fresh-baked breads and roasted meats passing from person to person. Alfred recoiled at the unhygienic manner in which food was handled and consumed – in great, greedy handfuls – but he was too hungry to allow himself any particular degree of fastidiousness.

  Yes, other people had touched his food. No, he was not going to think about that. He was just going to eat.

  It was good food. The bread was hearty, with a whole-grain flavor and a coarse texture. The meat was a little gamey, but flavorful. Nancy in particular appreciated it. “Now this is camp food.”

  “So tell me, bards,” Robert Whod said through a mouthful of food, gesturing at Alfred and Freddo, “you must be brothers, yes?”

  The two men wrinkled their noses of one volition, with the latter saying, “He’s a clone, actually.”

  At the same time, the former sniffed, “He’s a cheap knock-off.”

  “They’re twins,” Nancy put in hurriedly.

  “Twins, eh? Twins are bad luck. That’s what the friar says, anyway,” William mused. “One soul split between two bodies.”

  Nancy’s brow raised, but she kept her tones neutral. “Well, uh, there’s plenty of soul in each of them. They’re just double trouble.”

  “‘Double trouble,’” Robert repeated, then nodded his satisfaction. “I like that. You are a clever poet, Nancy.”

  The taxman frowned. If that’s all it takes to wow these guys, wait until they hear nursery rhymes.

  “And what of you? Are you a relative of the twins?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “But Alfred and I are dating.”

  This confused the outlaw. “You’re what?”

  “Dating. I mean, courting.”

  “Ah.” He nodded, glancing Alfred over. “It must be difficult.”

  The taxman’s brow furrowed, and Nancy’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “To court a twin. How would you tell them apart?” A few of the men nodded, as if they too were pondering this difficulty. “How would you know, when you marry, that you were marrying the right one?” Now, they laughed. “Would you establish a test beforehand, to prove that he is the right man?”

  Nancy’s features relaxed as he joked, though Freddo’s wrinkled in distaste. She shrugged. “I can tell.”

  “How?

  “Well…my Alfred is…I don’t know…mine. We have a connection that runs deeper than words.”

  Freddo rolled his eyes, and Justin snorted, muttering, “Not too deep. I mean, he still hasn’t married you.”

  “Marriage is just a construct,” Allan Clare, who was sitting to one side of Justin, declared. “I told my girl as much: love doesn’t need artificial constructs to validate it.”

  Justin stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m not afraid of a little commitment.” He turned an affectionate glance to Freddo. “We were engaged within three months.”

  The other Favero smiled fondly at the memory. “Yes we were. And married inside a year.”

  Alfred rolled his eyes. “Marriage is a lifetime commitment. Only an imbecile rushes into something like that.”

  “Only a coward procrastinates.”

  Nancy cleared her throat. “As you can see: they’re clearly different.”

  Robert laughed. “Yes, I suppose they are.” He looked at Justin. “And you, you say, are married to the other twin?”

  Freddo seemed to bristle at being referred to in such a fashion, by his relation to Alfred. Lyon nodded. “That’s right. This is our two-year anniversary. Well, technically, tomorrow is.”

  He nodded. “Well, congratulations are in order. Let us have a toast.” He glanced around, his eye seeming to catch one of the women at the periphery of the group, still working over the fire. “Ethel, bring us some ale. We need to celebrate with our new friends.”

  They drank and ate until night had given way to morning. Robert assigned Justin and Freddo a tent and was in the process of giving Nancy and Alfred separate assignments when she said, “We can share a tent.”

  The outlaw exchanged scandalized glances with a few of his men. Then, he shrugged. “Well, alright then. I guess the pair of you can have this one.” He indicated the tent he’d already pointed out as Alfred’s. Then, he winked at the taxman. “I’d say have a good night, but I think you’ve already got that covered.”

  Laughing among themselves, the woodsmen left. “Well, that was…awkward,” Nancy said in a moment.

  “Yup.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Medieval morality, and all that. But they didn’t seem phased by Justin and Freddo being a couple, so I figured they must have been a little more openminded than people from our own history.”

  “I don’t care what they think. I’d still rather be with you.”

  She smiled, and her eyes glimmered in the dull light from the campfire as she leaned in to kiss him. “And I’d still rather be with you, Alfred Favero.”

  “Good.” He pulled her to him and they settled onto one of the bedrolls. He made a deliberate effort not to look too long or too hard at what they were laying on. He was more than usually glad for his pants and long-sleeved t-shirt now.

  He was a man who refused to succumb to the temptations of skimpy clothing, even in the heat of summer; whatever the benefits of staying cooler, they were not worth the risk of exposure to sunlight. And at the moment, his foresight was paying off better than he’d anticipated: it protected him against whatever might have taken up residence in this bedding before him.

  Nancy, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to the concern. She snuggled up against him, saying in sleepy tones, “I love you, Alfred.”

  “I love you too, Nancy Abbot.” He heard her breathing slow and he felt her slip into sleep in his arms. He tried to follow. He was exhausted, and the weight of the day wore heavy on him. A good night’s rest would clear the worries, and ale, from his head.

  But sleep didn’t come. In fact, the longer he lay there listening to the quiet intake and exhale of Nancy’s breathing, and the longer he listened to the sounds of the camp quiet and eventually disappear, the more awake he felt.

  He thought of their situation. He thought of being trapped here, stuck in this primitive world, with its kindly outlaws and its malevolent lord. He thought of the squalor that awaited him, and wondered with a shudder if someday he, too, would adjust to living in such a fashion without a second thought.

  But more than anything, he thought about the woman in his arms. Alfred loved Nancy. He did not consider himself to be a sappy man, or much of a romantic. He wasn’t given to flights of fancy, and he didn’t indulge most superstitions. But on some level, he believed Nancy was the love of his life, the one woman on all of Earth for him; his soulmate. When he thought of how they met, how they’d begun as enemies and become lovers, he could see the hand of fate at play. He could see destiny, charting their course, bringing them to where they needed to be despite all their own missteps along the way.

  Now, his love, his soulmate, was trapped here, in this terrible place. His fear for her well-being was intense.

  But, selfishly perhaps, another thought burned, with a fierce, persistent pain at his heart. The truth was, Alfred didn’t know if Nancy was his soulmate anymore. He loved her more than anything. He felt he always would. But he’d seen worlds in which he was not a factor in Nancy’s life, in which she was not a factor in his.

  Was the destiny, that careful, guiding hand of fate, he saw in their relationship just a coincidence? Was it blind luck that had them thrown together on the Futureprise case, where he’d first begun to develop feelings for her? Was there nothing more sacred, more deliberate, than random chance behind their bond?

  The more he thought of it, the more his heart seemed to sink. He thought of the other two taxmen a few tents away, Justin and Freddo. Somehow, in their universe, fate had brought them together. And Nancy? Well, in their world, Nancy was married to that damned marine.

&n
bsp; Was it fate, then, that brought Freddo and Justin together in that universe, that paired Nancy and Josh? Or was it just the soulless, unseeing wheels of chance, turning in their cold, impartial way?

  He felt something like a caged animal, and he decided he needed to move, to clear his thoughts. Carefully, he slipped his arm out from under Nancy and crept out of the tent.

  A fire still blazed in the central area, smaller than it had been earlier. After a brisk walk around the camp by its light, he began to shiver. The night was cold, and he set his steps toward the campfire.

  A few men and a woman lay snoring by the blaze, passed out, he thought. One still held a flagon of ale in his hand, and a spilled mug and darkened dirt by another told its own story. He stood by the flames, letting the heat warm him.

  Despite the vigorousness of his exercise, his heart was no lighter than before. As he stood there, staring into the fire, morose thoughts crept back.

  “Babe?”

  He started as Nancy’s voice reached him. “Hey,” he said, spinning around. She was standing a few feet away, shivering. She was, he realized, still in her shorts and tank. No wonder she was freezing. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  She shook her head. “No. I just…realized you were gone. What’s wrong, Alfred?”

  “Nothing. Hey, we should try to find you something warmer.”

  She covered the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t change the subject, darling.”

  He blinked. He was, he supposed, trying to shift the conversation, but more for her benefit than his. “You look cold.”

  She smiled. “I won’t be in your arms.” He smiled too, but there was a sadness in the expression. She seemed to pick up on it, because her brow furrowed. “Talk to me, Alfred. What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head, repeating, “Nothing. Just…”

  “Just?”

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Well, this place. And…and those two clowns.”

  “You mean, Justin and Freddo?”

  He nodded. “It’s just…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. I mean, me – with Justin?”

  Nancy was watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite make out. “You really are upset about that, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “No. I mean, maybe a little.”

  “It’s not…well, it’s not because he’s gay, is it? The other Alfred?”

  He frowned at her. “Of course not, Nance. It’s because it’s Justin. I mean, of all the people to end up with…Justin? It couldn’t be one of the other guys at the office, someone, I don’t know, human?”

  She laughed, and seemed relieved. “Alright. But, I mean, if they’re happy babe, what does it matter?”

  He sighed. “I know. He’s got terrible taste, but that’s his problem. But it’s not just that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Do you…do you believe in soulmates, Nance?”

  She considered for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I believe some people are perfect for each other.” She brought her face closer to his, pecking at his lips. “Better than perfect, maybe. If that’s what soulmates are, then, yeah, sure I believe in them.”

  He pulled away, turning back to the fire. “Do you believe in the kind of love that’s just…I don’t know…destined to be?”

  She didn’t answer at once, but when she did, her tone was quiet. “I don’t know. But, honestly, Alfred? Those are pretty heavy questions. I mean, it sounds nice, but there’s a lot of prerequisites there that I’m not sure I can accept. I don’t know if I even believe in destiny or fate.”

  “But you and me…” He turned back to her, and she was studying him with eyes that seemed sad. “I mean, don’t you think that us ending up together, especially after everything…well, there was some kind of Providence at play?”

  She moved a little closer, taking his hand in hers and studying it for a moment. “Maybe. Sometimes I think, what are the odds of Caspersen putting you and me together on the Futureprise case?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But, then, it made sense too: you were the analyst working it, I’m the IT team lead. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it wasn’t.” She glanced up at him now. “Does it matter, either way? I mean, we found each other. That’s what counts, right?”

  “I know. It’s just…I used to think that, even if things had been different, we still would have found each other somehow. That our love was bigger than a set of circumstances. Because…well, because you’re my soulmate.”

  “Used to?”

  “Now…now I don’t know. I mean, in their universe, I’m in love with Justin. Justin. And you’re married to Josh.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe we’re soulmates in our universe, but not theirs. Or maybe there’s no such thing as soulmates and destiny, Alfred. Maybe soulmates are the people we choose to be with, to love.”

  “Hmm.” Somehow, the answer left him unsatisfied, as if something of the beauty of their love would be diminished without a guiding hand drawing them together. As if their story had been tarnished with these new possibilities. “Maybe.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know, babe. But what I do know is, I love you. And I don’t care if we’re soulmates. I don’t care if it was fate that brought us together or not. All I care about is that I love you, and you love me.”

  Chapter Ten

  Talking with Nancy hadn’t entirely set Alfred’s mind at ease, but it had granted him enough peace of mind to get to sleep, at least. And when he woke, he felt a little better, and a little more optimistic.

  Nancy was quiet and pensive, and now and then he’d catch her watching him with blue eyes full of uncertainty. And he regretted his words from the night before. There was no way to take them back, though.

  He took her hand instead, and turned the conversation toward other topics. Whatever the implications of their words the night before, the fact remained, he loved her. That wouldn’t change. His notions about love might need to be readjusted.

  But he loved Nancy Abbot, and however much the other variables might shift, that, at least, was a constant.

  “So,” he said, “about us getting home…”

  “I don’t think we’re going home, Alfred. Not this time. Unless we turn up some big surprises in the population centers, this world’s tech is a thousand years behind what we need.”

  He nodded glumly. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “I’m sorry. Believe me, I wish I had better news.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Hey,” he said, “cheer up, babe. We’ve got each other, at least.”

  She smiled, but it was a cautious smile. “Right.”

  “We’ll figure out how to adapt,” he continued. “You’re the smartest person I know, Nance. And I’m not entirely bereft of means myself.”

  She rolled her eyes at his self-deprecation. “You’re the smartest person I know, Alfred.”

  He grinned. “You really need to expand your circle of acquaintance.” He kissed her now, long and tenderly. “But we will figure this out, Nancy Abbot. We will make it work.”

  She smiled again, and this time the smile reached her eyes. “Alright.”

  “Now, to start with, let’s see about getting you a change of clothes. You’re going to catch your death of cold – and maybe skin cancer too – in those shorts.”

  “I’m pretty sure skin cancer is the least of our worries,” she told him. “I doubt the life expectancy here is long enough for it to be a concern.”

  “Either way,” he declared, choosing to ignore her grim speculation.

  They found Robert Whod at the campfire already, a little grayer than yesterday. “Well, well, bards. Methinks your arrival was a good portent. Anything that gives rise to a party like last night must portend good things, eh?”

  Alfred thought the outlaw looked hung
over and in generally rough shape, but it seemed polite to agree. And, he did. Then, he asked, “Actually, Robert, we had a favor to ask, if we can impose on your generosity a little more?”

  “Of course. You are our guests. What can we do for you?”

  “Where we’re from…it’s a little warmer,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a lie, even if it was deceptive. “I wonder if maybe someone in camp has a spare change of clothes that Nance could borrow?”

  He nodded. “And probably that Justin fellow will need one too. You and your brother planned for the woods. But we’ll see if we can get you a change of clothes anyway. Something that’ll draw less attention.”

  “Oh.” Alfred was nonplussed by that. He liked his own clothes. Tights, or stockings, or whatever these men wore, might be the fashion here, but he could scarce imagine anything less appealing. “Well, actually…”

  But Robert’s attention had already moved on. “Guinevere?” he called.

  A youngish woman appeared a few moments later. “You called, Robert?”

  “I did, darling. Our guests are going to need a change of clothes. Can you figure something out?”

  She nodded. “Of course. Right away. Miss Nancy, if you like, you can come with me.”

  “Oh,” Nancy said. “Uh, sure.”

  The two women left, and Robert watched them go with a smile. “A good woman, my Gwen.” He gestured to one of the stumps, for Alfred to take a seat. “She came with me, you know, when I fell out with the law. Gave up everything, without a complaint. Followed me here. That was before I got the band together. It was just us then, just me and her and the kids.” He shook his head. “There were days, I tell you, when I wasn’t sure we’d make it. When I hadn’t seen a deer in weeks, and the food was low. When the baby would scream with hunger, and my poor Gwen’d be at her wits’ end trying to keep us all fed on scraps.”

  A bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “When you see your family reduced to that, you don’t forget it, bard. And you don’t forget the woman who stood at your side, either.”