Castaways in Time (The After Cilmeri Series)

by Sarah Woodbury

  Dafydd didn’t have any pigeons that had been trained to fly across the sea. It meant that if Dafydd did arrive in Ireland, Lili wouldn’t know it until he sent word on the next ship or finished his business with Valence there (not that there would be any business to finish given the fact that Valence had come to Windsor) and returned himself.

  “You must come with me to the castle,” Anna said.

  Lili gestured towards the wall. “I was just—”

  “You are the Queen of England and the mother of the heir to the throne,” Anna said. “It’s just clean-up work now. Bevyn can manage here without you.”

  Lili opened her mouth to argue with Anna, but the fierceness in her sister-in-law’s eyes had her reconsidering. Anna’s earlier confession had tugged at Lili’s heartstrings. Anna hadn’t grown up in this world, but she’d suffered losses along with everyone else since she’d arrived. In private, Lili had wondered to Dafydd how his family could have chosen to stay in the Middle Ages when they had a choice not to. Him she understood. Not only was Llywelyn his father, but even a blind man could see that the role of prince, and then king, was one he’d been born to play. Anna, however, for all that she and Math loved each other, had given up a life in the modern world where she would be educated and free.

  Lili longed to see that world. Dafydd had almost taken her in the midst of Arthur’s birth. The labor had been a long one, nearly two days with hardly any progress. Dafydd was within moments of scooping her up and jumping with her from the highest tower in the castle when she’d succeeded in birthing their son. Arthur had been turned wrong, face-up. Bronwen said that in the modern world, a physician might have cut her open to take the baby. In this world, if not for a last minute position change that gave her renewed strength, she might have died in childbirth.

  Anna hadn’t been able to attend the birth, but she’d heard about it; the careful way she’d looked at Lili when she’d arrived at Windsor, and the lengthy embrace, should have warned Lili about how Anna was feeling now.

  But Lili didn’t believe for a moment that Dafydd was dead. She put her arm around Anna. “He’s okay, Anna. I know he is. If you look into your heart, you’ll know it too.”

  “That’s not very scientific,” Anna said, though she managed a small smile.

  “See,” Lili said. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Anna took in a deep breath and let it out. Then she nodded. “I can believe it if you can.”

  “It isn’t that I’m cavalier about death—my own or anyone else’s,” Lili said, “but I do understand it in a way that’s hard for you. My mother died, you know.”

  “I know,” Anna said. “I didn’t tell you about David because I don’t think you can fight. This isn’t about that.”

  “I believe you,” Lili said. “But you need to know that I’m not leaving because I’m the Queen of England. I’m leaving because I love you, and even if your feelings aren’t rational or logical or helpful, you still feel them, and I don’t need to add to your pain.”

  “Besides, we’ve won this particular battle,” Anna said.

  Lili wrinkled her nose at her sister-in-law; she was right. Then Lili glanced ahead to see Carew walking towards them. He had blood on his tunic, but his long stride and posture told her that the blood belonged to someone else, probably to Henry Percy.

  “Thank you for rescuing Henry,” Lili said as he halted in front of them.

  He bowed at the waist. “The boy fought bravely, for all that he has little experience in battle. He was trained well; he just wasn’t ready to face a giant.”

  “He was very contrite once he was able to speak,” Anna said, turning with Carew and Lili back towards the entrance to the castle, which rose above them, as yet untouched by war.

  “He has even less experience than I,” Lili said, unable to resist pointing out that fact.

  “Which means that he shouldn’t have been where he was,” Carew said. “I will speak to Bevyn and Math as to how it came about.”

  Anna stopped and put a hand on Lili’s arm. “I want you to know—”

  But whatever Anna was going to say was lost in a sudden uproar from the battlement. “Look out!”

  Fifty flaming arrows arched above their heads coming from the south side of the town, and the trio dove for safety to the base of a nearby wall. The arrows fell among the shops and huts of the village. The barrage was followed by a second, and then a third.

  “I thought they didn’t have archers!” Anna said.

  “Valence must have held them back until he saw how his first assault went,” Carew said.

  As it hadn’t gone well, Valence might be putting all the more weight into this attack. A fourth flight came, adding to the chaos in the streets. “The infirmary!” Lili gasped to see a spout of flame rise up from the low building beside the Abbey.

  “Come on.” Anna set off at a run, smartly keeping to the shelter of buildings not yet damaged instead of heading directly towards the church. Lili followed, with Carew protesting, even as he kept his arm around her shoulders. He forced her to run at a low crouch, as if that would prevent an arrow from hitting her.

  “Let others see to the sick!” Carew shouted ahead to Anna. “I must get you to safety.”

  Yet another flight of arrows soared over the wall and came to land on the rooftops around them. Villagers hurried back and forth, bringing buckets that they’d filled in preparation for exactly this eventuality. Fortunately, with the river so close, they had plenty of water.

  The roof of the stone Abbey was made of slate, so it hadn’t yet been harmed. The infirmary hadn’t been so lucky. In the few minutes it had taken for Anna and Lili to cross half the distance from the gatehouse, fire consumed the roof. With a blaze and a crash, it collapsed in on itself. Anna screamed; Lili raced to her and wrapped her arms around her, stopping her from getting any closer.

  “All those people.” Anna bent her head, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  Carew wrapped his arms around both of them. “I’m taking you to the castle.” He tugged hard, and both women had all but consented to go with him when Anna spied one of the nuns, her veil missing and her normally undyed robe blackened with soot. Her name was Joan, and she was the herbalist at the Abbey. Although she was well into middle age, she’d been one of the first to embrace Anna’s new methods.

  “Lady Anna!” Joan picked up her skirts and ran towards them.

  “They’re all dead—” Anna choked on her words.

  “No! No, my lady! All is well!” Joan said. “We had already moved them into the church for their safety. Because the infirmary was separate, we didn’t worry about saving it. That’s why it burned so fast.”

  Anna listened with her hand to her heart. Then she threw her arms around the nun. “Thank you!”

  Joan stepped back, renewing the distance between them. Anna’s hug had been typical for the Americans but was much more exuberant than most English were used to.

  “We’ll keep them safe. Don’t you worry.” Joan looked past Anna to Lili. “Why aren’t you on the wall, my queen? Surely you would be of better use up there than down here?”

  “Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?” Lili said.

  “Excuse us.” Carew tugged on Lili’s arm. “We are all needed elsewhere.”

  Chapter Twenty

  September, 2017

  Callum

  “I need you in here, Callum.” Lady Jane tipped her head towards an empty hospital room. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Callum and Cassie had brought David in, and Callum was beginning to think he might lose his mind with the waiting and doing nothing but watching David sleep. Thus Lady Jane’s summons, as perfunctory as her manner was, came as a relief.

  Callum had been hoping for a chance to speak with her. He put a gentle hand on Cassie’s shoulder to indicate that he was going, and followed Lady Jane into the room she’d chosen. It was three doors down from the one in which David slept. They hadn’t needed to intubate him, but he hadn’t spoken
since they’d brought him in. From what Callum could gather from the attending physicians, they were concerned he might not ever wake again.

  That wasn’t to be tolerated. For now, however, Callum could do nothing for David. Lady Jane, on the other hand, had some explaining to do, and it looked like he was finally going to get some answers.

  Once inside the room, she turned on the fan in the private loo and indicated that he should follow her inside. It was more than a little awkward to be crammed into the small space between the sink and the tiny shower, but he braced his shoulder against the wall and composed himself to listen.

  Lady Jane closed the door. “We can’t be overheard in here.”

  Callum folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to explain what she wanted. Lady Jane would tell him what she wanted him to know in her own time.

  “I have arranged for documents, detailing what I know and what I suspect, to be sent to individuals in the highest levels of government and the press, should something happen to me,” she said without preamble, raising the stakes as high as they could be raised, short of nuclear war.

  Callum dropped his arms to his sides. “You believe yourself to be in danger?”

  “In the past month, there have been three attempts on my life that I know of. Each was intended to look like an accident. I might not be so lucky with the next one. I feel them closing in on me. My movements are being monitored, along with my email and whom I speak to. They’ll be after you next. I’m putting your life in danger even now if someone notices that we are both absent at the same time.”

  “Murdering a director of the Security Service is no small act,” Callum said. “How can you be sure—”

  Lady Jane was already shaking her head before he could finish his sentence. “Ever since you left us, the influence of special interests on the Security Service, Whitehall, and Parliament has increased with every week that passed. At first, I thought it was no more than business as usual, but as the months went by, it became clear that the corruption goes to the highest levels. Perhaps all the way to the top, though I have been unable to confirm that.”

  “You’re speaking of the Prime Minister?” Callum said.

  “To Downing Street,” Lady Jane said. “Beyond that, I cannot say.”

  “And you’ve chosen to speak to me because … ?”

  Lady Jane gave him a sharp look. “You are the only one whose record is beyond reproach. You’ve spent the last ten months in the Middle Ages and thus are uncorrupted. Not to mention incorruptible. Everyone knows you would never sell yourself, not to another government, not to corporate interests, no matter how much money was offered.”

  Callum couldn’t argue with that.

  “You’ve proved yourself once again by rescuing David and returning here with him,” Lady Jane said, “though I wish you’d phoned me so we could have arranged for a more anonymous admittance.”

  “I didn’t know if I could trust you,” Callum said. “I deliberately made our arrival as public as possible.”

  “That’s honest, I suppose,” Lady Jane said. “Do you trust me now?”

  “I believe you,” Callum said, “but all I know for certain is that I need to get David away from here as quickly as possible.”

  “There’s a safe house—”

  “I don’t mean to a safe house,” Callum said.

  Lady Jane pursed her lips. “You intend to return with him to the Middle Ages.”

  “I’m sorry, but his well-being is my first priority, and what you’ve just told me only confirms my worst fears and increases my urgency. He can never be safe here.”

  “If I guarantee his safety—”

  “You’ve just said that you fear for your own life. How can you guarantee his safety when you can’t ensure your own?” Callum didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the moment called for truth. He was seeing with a clarity that he’d been missing the whole time they’d been here.

  Lady Jane didn’t continue the argument. “I have to tell you that things are coming to a head. I’ve laid a trap that may well cost me my life.”

  “Director—”

  “No. Hear me out. I’ve been laboring alone for months, and it’s a relief to tell someone. Natasha was only one of several agents whom I fear have betrayed us.”

  “Driscoll among them?” Callum said.

  “I assume it, though I have no direct evidence of his betrayal beyond impression and instinct. My sense is that Natasha and Driscoll don’t—or rather, didn’t—know of the other’s involvement. In regard to Natasha, she did what she set out to do, which was to deliver David. She’s done a bunk, and I don’t expect to see her again.”

  “To whom did she deliver David? Can you tell me who’s behind all this?”

  “They’re called the Dunland Group: defense contractors with their own private security force,” Lady Jane said.

  Callum sucked on his teeth. “They made a fortune in Iraq, working for us as well as the Americans.”

  “If I didn’t already know they were behind these events, I know it now,” Lady Jane said. “The facial recognition just came back on the two men you subdued. They are known employees of the Dunland Group.”

  “That’s why you’re telling me this now.” Callum nodded. “Those faces are all but public now, and with that fact, the Dunland Group will know that you know of their involvement—and that others do too, people who can do something about them.”

  “The Dunland Group will swing into full damage control. I imagine that the men you encountered will be disavowed as a rogue operation,” Lady Jane said. “All the politicians they’ve bought will pray nobody noticed them pocketing their pound notes and clamor for an investigation.”

  “Everyone implicated will be wondering what else you know and whom you’ve told,” Callum said.

  Lady Jane bit her lip. It was the first time Callum had ever seen her uncertain. “It’s not just you I’ve put in danger. It’s Cassie too.”

  Callum licked his lips. He’d needed to know what Lady Jane knew and was glad of the information, but the repercussions of the Dunland Group’s actions—and this conversation—stretched out in all directions. “We need to move David.”

  Lady Jane shook her head. “He cannot be moved, not yet, not until he wakes.”

  “If he wakes,” Callum said.

  “As long as he remains unconscious, he buys us time,” Lady Jane said. “After that, I will be forced to bring him to London, at which point he will be out of my hands.”

  “That cannot happen,” Callum said. “You need to release what information you have now.”

  “No,” Lady Jane said. “I don’t have solid evidence yet. It’s enough to cause a scandal, yes, but not enough to bring the culprits down. I need a few more days, that’s all, to bring my plans to fruition.”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed, and us too,” Callum said. “I don’t know that I cared as much before about that as I do now.”

  “I’m working on alternatives,” Lady Jane said. “You need to stay by David’s side until then.”

  “What alternatives?”

  “That’s my headache,” Lady Jane said. “I will do my job.”

  “And damn the consequence?” Callum barked a laugh. “David and Cassie are my first priority, not the Security Service, but I swear to you that I will do my job as long as it is possible to do it.”

  “I would expect no less.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  September, 2017

  David

  David woke to quiet darkness. He was in a hospital, but whether on the same day he’d been rescued or a different day, he couldn’t have begun to guess. He didn’t see a clock anywhere in the room to tell him the time. For all he knew, he could have slept for a week. Living in the Middle Ages had given him a better natural time-sense than he’d had as a kid, but the transition to the twenty-first century—and probably his illness and the drugs—had thrown it out of whack ever since he got here. If he had to guess, he would h
ave said that the time was early evening. It was dark outside, but not past midnight.

  The curtains in his room had been left open, and for a while David studied the spray of rain on the window and the little rivers the water made down the glass. The drops sparkled in the light coming from outside: streetlights, or maybe spotlights shining from outside the hospital. For the first time since before he left medieval Cardiff, David felt like his mind was clear. He could breathe easily too, and his throat hurt no worse than if he had a mild cold. The shot the medic had given him had hurt like hell, but it seemed to have done the trick.

  Cassie reclined in a chair beside the bed, between him and the outside window. Near the end of his bed, the door to the corridor was open. He had a private room, or at least one that could be made private. A full bank of windows starting at waist height and going all the way to the ceiling lined the interior wall of the room, separating him from the corridor. Blinds covered the top half of the windows, but he could see through the gap between the bottom of the blind and the window frame to a cluster of people standing in the hallway.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, though from the apparent twitchiness of those involved, the conversation was heated. Callum was tall enough that the blind cut off his head from David’s sight, but David would have known him anywhere by the sword in his hand. He must have retrieved it from wherever he’d stashed it. He certainly hadn’t been wearing it earlier when he’d come through the apartment door. Some of David’s tension eased. By holding the sword, Callum was declaring his loyalty and what he stood for.

  Everyone, including Callum, wore business suits, trench coats, and ties, even the one woman. If her stabbing finger was any indication, it was she who was in charge. David guessed that she was Director Cooke. Her build was all wrong for Natasha, who was the only other woman David knew of who was involved in his case, not that MI-5 might not have dozens of female agents. He just hadn’t seen any others.