Footsteps in Time

by Sarah Woodbury

  “What is it?” I ask, imagining the worst, as mothers do. And the worst it is.

  “Anna and David have disappeared! I sent them to pick up Christopher but they never arrived, and nobody has seen them.”

  “I’m coming now,” I say, glancing at my watch. 8 o’clock. “Have you called the police?”

  “Right before I called you,” she says.

  I put down the phone and lean forward over the bed, my hands supporting my weight. My breath quickens, and I swallow hard, trying to hold down the panic and the tears. Where are they? What could they be doing? I dial Anna’s cell phone number, but her phone doesn’t ring, immediately switching to her messaging. I try David’s number with the same result. I snap the phone shut, my eyes closed.

  It takes me an hour to get to Bryn Mawr from my hotel. The train is late and packed with commuters. I find myself hiding my face from the other passengers in case I disturb them with my tears. I call Elisa every ten minutes, my hands shaking as I dial the phone, but each time Elisa answers with ‘I’m sorry’.

  Elisa meets me at the station and drives me back to her house. A police car sits in the driveway where Elisa usually parks the van and an officer stands near the front stoop, talking with Elisa’s husband, Ted. I get out of the car and the policeman turns to me, eyes narrowed.

  “I’ll need a description of your children,” he says. “Have they run away before?”

  I put a hand to my mouth, trying to hold in a cry—

  “Anna!”

  She opened her eyes.

  David’s concerned face hovered above her. “Dreaming of swords again?”

  Anna shook her head. “Mom.” She massaged her temples with her fingers, still lost in the dream, while at the same time trying to push it away. This kind of dream was always the worst: so tangible and terrible that she always woke up relieved it hadn’t happened in real life.

  Anna sat up. The stars were gone, and the sky was growing paler with the coming dawn. Someone had stoked the fire and men ate near it. Others checked the horses and prepared their saddlebags, but there seemed fewer men than the night before. Anna swallowed, her throat dry, and wondered about a bathroom.

  Suddenly resolute, she stood up, studied the surrounding forest, bracing herself for the inevitable, and strode off into the woods.

  “Where are you going?” David said.

  Anna waved a hand at him without turning around. “I have to pee!”

  Behind her, David laughed, but Anna surely wasn’t laughing. Wherever they were going had to be better than this, right? Didn’t castles have outhouses? And cloth instead of frozen leaves?

  David had acquired food by the time Anna returned. He handed her a length of dried meat. She nibbled at it but her stomach had that nauseous feeling that too little sleep can leave. David had no compunctions at all. He laid into his meal with all the enthusiasm of a starving fourteen-year-old boy. Watching him eat, Anna recalled with horror another tidbit about Welsh culture: David was fourteen and therefore considered a man by Welsh law. Appalling thought.

  “Sorry about earlier.”

  “About what?” Anna said.

  “Laughing at you, I mean.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “We’re going to have to stick together. This is going to be—” He paused, searching for the words, “—really, really difficult.”

  Anna turned her head to see his face, but he was looking past her. He bowed slightly, and Anna followed his gaze.

  Sure enough, Llywelyn himself limped towards them. He held out his hand to David who stood to greet him. David gripped his forearm as Anna had seen other men do. When Llywelyn released him, he turned to Anna and unfolded an expanse of fabric he’d tucked under his arm. He swung the cloak around her shoulders, enveloping her from head to foot. Anna hugged it to her, warm for the first time since they’d arrived.

  The men prepared to depart, and this time David and Anna got to stay together, with him in the saddle and her riding pillion behind him. They trotted out of the clearing and onto the same the path the company had traveled up the day before. When the sun rose, so low in the sky it was barely there, it became clear they were headed north, which made sense if their destination was Llywelyn’s home.

  “It’s beautiful here,” David said, after a while.

  Although Anna was having a hard time seeing past her own misery, she had to admit that the snow-covered mountains were spectacular.

  “No cars, no machines, power lines, houses, or garbage.” For once, she agreed with him. “But why can’t we understand better what they’re saying?”

  “It’s Middle Welsh. Didn’t you—” David stopped himself as he remembered who’d been willing to sit through another Welsh language class and who hadn’t.

  “No,” Anna said. “I took German.”

  “Useful language, German,” David said. “Especially about now.”

  Crap.

  That evening, they camped beside the trail as before. This time, Anna needed no help getting off the horse, but then she was left alone on the edge of the camp, uncertain. Her rear hurt so badly she couldn’t bear the thought of sitting, so she stood and tried to stretch without calling attention to herself.

  Once David had seen to the horse, he found her again. “You okay?”

  Anna stared at him for a second, befuddled. Okay? How could he even ask such a question? Of course I’m not okay, and neither is he. She didn’t answer because she was so irritated, but then realized he was trying to be understanding, in his limited way, and relented.

  “I survived the day and am still upright,” she said.

  David nodded, and awkwardly put his arm around her shoulder. He was trying. He didn’t stay beside her long, though, because the grizzled man from the day before called him over: “Dafydd!”

  David blinked, but did as he was bid. The man stood in the middle of a large open space and held a long stick in his hand, which he tossed to David. He shouted something, the Welsh equivalent of en garde! and David brought his stick up as if it were a sword. Anna almost laughed, but stopped herself because nobody else was laughing. A dozen men stood nearby, watching intently. It was unbelievable and right out of a fantasy film. Anna could think of at least three movies where such a scene occurred and was willing to bet David knew them too.

  For an hour, David stabbed and parried, twisted and lunged. He looked competent to her, but Anna had nothing but movies to judge him by, and she doubted their accuracy. Several men patted David on the shoulder afterwards, however, so perhaps he had done well.

  David sat beside her at dinner, disheveled and hot from his exertions. “It was a lot harder than I expected.”

  “Not quite like the battles you have with your friends?” Anna tried to keep the mocking out of her voice but suspected that she hadn’t succeeded.

  David glanced at her and then smiled. Anna was glad to see it.

  “I think it’s going to be okay,” he said. “I think I can do this.”

  Again his words startled Anna. Do what? And what about me?

  Her primary concern was what Prince Llywelyn thought about them. She desperately wanted to talk to him because their continued survival depended on his good will. Listening to her mother’s stories about the Middle Ages was a far cry from living them.

  Anna was particularly concerned about David finding a place here. He was really smart, but would anyone recognize it? The Welsh wouldn’t have any use for his computer skills or his encyclopedic knowledge of dinosaurs. It wasn’t as if he’d taken any engineering courses and could build them a steam engine. And how was anyone to know how smart he was if all they wanted him to do was learn how to handle a sword? He wouldn’t even make a good clerk, since his writing was illegible and when he did write it was in American English, not Latin, French, or Welsh. As an alternative, what did he know about farming? Or animal husbandry?

  These problems nagged at Anna constantly. She was too freaked out to worry about herself, but as she lay on the groun
d beside David after the second day of travel, unable to sleep, David revealed that he was worrying about her.

  “They’re going to want to marry you off to someone pretty quick, you know.”

  Anna rolled over and punched him in the side. “So, how’s your sword fighting coming?”

  At David’s second sword fighting session earlier that evening, Prince Llywelyn had graduated David to a real sword. He’d buckled it on immediately, and Anna was pretty sure he had it tucked under the blanket with him.

  “I’m serious!” David rolled over to face her. “How are you going to handle that? You’re only seventeen!”

  “I know, David. I remember from things Mom said that women aren’t quite as oppressed in Wales as elsewhere in this day and age, but I don’t remember exactly what that means.”

  “I can tell you what it means,” David said. “If Prince Llywelyn thinks you ought to marry someone, neither one of us is going to have any say in the matter. You do what your lord says and that’s that.”

  “Maybe when we get to wherever we’re going—”

  “Castell y Bere,” David said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I overheard the men talking about it earlier.”

  Anna glared at him, disgusted. “I don’t know why I put up with you. You’re going to have Middle Welsh completely mastered within the week!”

  “Well, maybe ... not quite ... and that isn’t going to help us tomorrow when we arrive,” David said.

  “And I suppose you just ‘overheard’ that too, didn’t you?”

  Even in the flickering firelight, Anna could see that David was trying unsuccessfully to look modest.

  “I guess so.”

  “Maybe,” Anna said, “if we learn Welsh fast enough I can talk to Prince Llywelyn about what happened with the van, and tell him what the future would have held for Wales if we hadn’t killed those men.”

  “Maybe,” said David. “Either that or he’ll think you’re a witch and burn you at the stake.”

  And with that helpful thought, David wrapped his arms around Anna for warmth, and they both went to sleep.

  * * * * *

  The company reached Castell y Bere the next afternoon. The castle sat on a high promontory with commanding views of the valley below and the mountains in the distance. During the two hours between when they spotted it and when they reached it, it acted as a beacon. Anna’s thoughts focused on hot fires and warm food. New snow slowed their pace, and it was a steep climb to the impressive and elaborate main gate. They finally clattered through it into a crowd of men, women, and children who waited to greet the company.

  Anna slid off the horse onto packed dirt and looked for David. She caught his eye but Hywel, one of the boys who’d cared for the horses during the trip, grabbed his arm and pointed towards a long, low building squatting against the curtain wall. The stables?

  David shrugged and waved. “Later,” he mouthed.

  Anna edged away, trying to be inconspicuous, and found a wall to stand against. So many people milled about, all talking at once, that she wished she could hide. Without looking her way, Prince Llywelyn disappeared into the keep with two older men. Before turning away, one of them had looked at her as if he’d wanted to speak but didn’t.

  What is to become of us?

  After five minutes of total insecurity, Anna was relieved to see an older woman beckon to her from the entrance to the hall. She felt an intense longing to turn around and head back down the road. It had been a long, fairly unpleasant journey, but she’d grown accustomed to it. The familiar seemed infinitely more desirable than the unknown that now faced her.

  The woman greeted Anna with a smile and a slight bow and introduced herself as Bronwen. With Anna trailing after her like a lost duckling, Bronwen led Anna into the keep, across the great hall, down a corridor and up some stairs to another corridor. They ended up in a room occupied by several young women. A fire blazed at the far end, and Anna stood close to it, grateful to be indoors at last. Bronwen said something to the women, and they giggled before filing from the room and leaving Anna alone with Bronwen.

  Talking the whole time, Bronwen looked Anna up and down and then opened a chest set against the wall. From it, she pulled a dark green dress, surely borrowed from someone else, a girdle, a linen shift, a corset, a petticoat to go over that, stockings, slipper-like shoes, and a cloak, and laid them on the bed.

  Anna looked at the clothes. They were pretty and clean, but Anna clutched her cloak to her. She felt awful. It seemed that if she agreed to take off her clothes and put on these, she would cease to be Anna and would become someone even she didn’t know. Her clothes were dirty, and she’d never worn the same thing for more than two days in a row, much less four, but these clothes were hers.

  Her hands clasped in front of her, Bronwen waited. There was no help for it. Anna undressed completely, shivering despite the fire. Bronwen clucked her tongue at Anna’s underclothes, which must have seemed totally bizarre to her, but once Anna removed them, Bronwen dressed her from the inside out. Then she sat Anna on a stool and began to brush her hair. Anna was so tired she settled into it, to the point that her head fell forward with every stroke.

  Bronwen braided Anna’s hair in two braids and twisted them onto the top of her head. To this, she pinned a piece of cloth that went from ear to ear but left Anna’s face uncovered. Anna stood, and Bronwen walked around her to get a view from all sides. She tweaked the dress here and there, but it fit very well. Anna wondered whose dress it was and if the owner begrudged the loan. If she did nothing else, Anna resolved to find her and thank her as soon as she could.

  Finally, Bronwen nodded, satisfied. She took Anna’s arm and steered her through the door and back down the stairs to the entrance to the great hall. When they reached the doorway, however, Anna found it impossible to enter. At least a hundred people sat at the tables, and every single one was looking at her. Prince Llywelyn sat at a raised table at the head of the room. Two long tables perpendicular to his extended down the hall. David was near the head of one of them, with space left beside him. Trying to ignore the looks she was getting, Anna hurried over to him and sat down.

  “Where did you go?” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  “I think so. Hywel took me to the stables to take care of my horse, and then he showed me to a room where I could wash. He even brought me these clothes.” David looked down at himself.

  Anna inspected him. He wore a cream-colored tunic, a deep blue over-tunic that matched his eyes, and a pair of brown pants, along with his own brown leather boots, which were out of place, but not too dramatically different. David had cleaned his face and hands, but a ring of dirt adorned his neck where he hadn’t scrubbed, and his hair really needed a wash. Anna decided not to mention it.

  “What are we eating?” she said, noting that most of the diners were nearly finished.

  “We have some kind of meat, along with vegetables I’ve never seen before. And wine,” he said, significantly.

  “Have you had any?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do they have water?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “If they have a well the water ought to be fine.”

  He tapped the man next to him, and introduced him as Bevyn. Anna greeted him and then couldn’t help staring. He had the most humongous set of mustachios she’d ever seen, not that she’d seen any before arriving in Wales. For some reason, Welsh men wore mustaches but no beards, not even in winter. Bevyn’s mustaches grew long, thick, and immaculately curled along each cheek. It was an amazing sight, and Anna found herself fighting the giggles. Okay, just a little punchy here, don’t mind me.

  David said something to Bevyn that Anna didn’t catch, except for the dŵr, meaning water. Bevyn replied, twisted in his seat, and signaled to a serving boy who ran off and came back with a pitcher of water and a cup. It was marvelous what knowing the language could do! Anna was going to have to contrive some way to keep David around
.

  She ate a full portion of food and before long, felt hot and sleepy, even without the alcohol. Anna tried to stay awake by examining other individuals in the room: the clothes they wore, their hair styles, and their position at the tables. She occupied herself in imagining what their stories were. Thankfully, the people around her talked and laughed, and nobody was paying any attention to either Anna or David. Then, after what seemed like hours, Prince Llywelyn got to his feet. The hall quieted, and he began to speak.

  He told a lengthy tale, mentioning their names several times, which prompted everyone to look at them again. David studied Prince Llywelyn and ignored the others. Anna wanted to slump in her seat but refused to succumb to the urge. At last, Prince Llywelyn finished and silence descended on the hall. Abruptly, David got to his feet and pulled Anna with him.

  “He wants us out there. Just do what I do!” he whispered.

  They walked around the table to stand in front of Prince Llywelyn. David bowed and, belatedly, Anna made what she thought was a curtsy, thankful for her ‘princess’ period between the ages of six and eight when it was something she’d practiced in front of a mirror, for just such an occasion. She guessed it was acceptable because Prince Llywelyn took a step and held out both hands, slightly apart. David knelt on one knee and put his hands between Prince Llywelyn’s.

  Prince Llywelyn spoke a few words, and a murmur of approval went around the hall. Then it was Anna’s turn, after which Prince Llywelyn sent them back to their seats and signaled for music to begin. Anna and David settled on the bench again.

  “What do you think that speech was about?” she said. “What did we just do?”

  “I think Prince Llywelyn gave some version of how we came to be on that hill with him, and we pledged our allegiance to him. Hopefully, we’re his responsibility now, because I hate to think about being thrown out in the cold.”

  “I’m pretty sure that as long as we don’t betray Prince Llywelyn, he’ll take care of us.”

  “Let’s hope so,” David said.