“Let the boy go now and I will spare your life. Do it now or draw your sword and prepare to fall.”
Broken Nose flung Charlie to one side like a rag doll and his accomplice joined him. They both drew their battle swords; they had not needed them to deal with mere children, but they both could see that they might have a fight on their hands with this new arrival.
“Stranger knight, you are interfering in the will of Sir Robert of Gloucester. We are arresting these two escaped criminals and you will not put us aside. Now, take this chance and be gone before you have the steel of our swords in your belly.”
The words came from the bigger of the two soldiers.
“Hmmm… now there is a choice,” said Gramps, with a trace of sarcasm in his voice. “I think you can show me the steel of your swords!”
As he said this Gramps leapt forward and the two soldiers, not expecting this, hesitated for a split second then they too charged at Gramps.
“Gramps…” cried out Charlie but his voice was lost in the tintinnabulous clash of steel as Gramps’ sword parried the first overhead blow from Broken Nose and continued in one flowing motion to drive a thrust at the other man. His sword flashed in a shaft of sunlight as it swung out and caught the soldier on the upper arm, the blade biting deep, slicing through leather tunic and then hacking deeply into the soft flesh. There was a shriek of anguish and the bigger of the soldiers dropped to the ground, clutching at his shoulder. Gramps didn’t miss a beat and delivered a kick to the stricken soldier’s head. The head snapped back and he fell backwards, completely senseless.
Broken Nose returned the attack immediately and thrust his sword at Gramps’ back, but Gramps was far too quick and feinted to his left side and the attacker’s lunge met thin air; his momentum carrying him forwards. Gramps spun right around and was now behind Broken Nose. He lifted his sword and unhesitatingly thrust it between the man’s shoulder blades. The blow was the coup de grace; it severed Broken Nose’s spine and the soldier dropped down, instantly dead.
Gramps did not even look at the corpse of Broken Nose but ran immediately to Charlie who had struggled to his feet and was staring wide-eyed at his grandfather.
“Gramps!…Gramps!” Charlie exclaimed over and over again.
Gramps turned him around and drew a short bladed dagger from a sheath that hung from his belt and in a single slice cut through the rope that bound Charlie. Charlie flung his arms around Gramps and the old man hugged him back as hard as he could. Finally, he put Charlie down and stood back from him.
“Well, how are you doing, Charlie my boy?” he was no longer the victorious warrior but had returned to some semblance of the grandfather that Charlie loved so much.
“I am assuming that you would like some things explained to you?”
Charlie was still overcome but managed to splutter out, “Has the Pope got a balcony?”
THIRTY-FIVE
Sir Geoffrey reached the abandoned monastery and brought Rufus to a halt about a hundred yards from the actual buildings. Boars Reach monastery had been abandoned for four years, ever since all the monks that had lived there had been stricken down with a mysterious illness that had eventually killed them all. Now it was generally believed that God himself had cursed the place. The church had given up on it and had abandoned the site completely.
It was an attractive meeting place and hideout for outlaws who knew that no one would bother them there, partly because of its location and partly because of the general belief that it was cursed. Different bands of thugs and robbers would use it at different times. Sir Geoffrey decided that he should adopt a cautious approach and see the lay of the land before he went charging in with sword and dagger drawn. He tethered Rufus who snorted a few times as he walked away toward the ruined monastery buildings. As he approached through the forest, that surrounded the clearing in which the tumbledown buildings stood, Sir Geoffrey could hear rough sounding voices. He drew closer until he could get a good view of the clearing, treading softly as he moved, lest he should snap a twig or startle a bird from its nest.
He reached the very fringe of the clearing in which the monastery stood and from there he was able to see a group of four surly and violent looking men seated in a circle. He could hear them talking and they seemed to be discussing a bear baiting session they had recently been involved in. He looked over, to one side of the clearing, and there was a huge black bear secured by a chain that ran from a large metal ring through its nose to a wooden stake driven into the ground. The bear paced up and down, its massive head slewing slowly from side to side
and occasionally it stopped to sniff at the air. The colossal animal was covered in purple scars, some of which seemed quite recent and were only just closing over. Sir Geoffrey hated bear-baiting but it was a common enough sight. Bears were brought from the forests of Eastern Europe and bought by showmen who were little more than criminals. The animals would be taken from village to village, usually drugged with strong ale to make them more manageable, and they would be tied to poles whilst specially trained dogs were encouraged to goad them and to drive the bear into frenzy. The bear’s job was to try and catch one of the dogs and, if it did so, it would normally rip the dog’s belly out. The crowds loved this type of entertainment and would whoop and cheer on either the bear or the dog, depending on which animal their wager was riding. However distasteful Sir Geoffrey found these men they were clearly not the ones he was looking for and he felt deflated.
He moved around to confirm what he suspected and then quietly withdrew from the monastery. Although Sir Geoffrey was not worried about tackling the group in combat, he saw no reason to involve himself in a fight, for a fight there would be if he made himself known. These thugs would not be able to resist the odds of four against one and his sword, clothes, horse and saddle were items of great value. If he ended up fighting it would only delay him. He now realised that Charlie may be lost to him. If outlaws had taken him they would have done for him by now and robbed him of the few pennies that he had.
Sir Geoffrey was downcast; he felt that he had lost a friend as well as someone who was shaping up to be a good squire. Poor Charlie, the boy had an innocence about him which had not served him well, and he had now fallen foul of murderous ruffians. Sir Geoffrey had liked Charlie ever since they had first met and he had privately resolved to protect the young lad, never dreaming that he would actually become fond of him. He felt he had failed Charlie.
Now, of course, Sir Geoffrey also had to contend with the fact that he had left the castle at the crucial time of Matilda’s visit, leaving Thomas in charge of security matters. He started thinking that the only course of action left open to him was to return to Sherebrook as fast as he could and review his position there. He had always intended to return to his manor sometime soon, to retire from active service. That time, he thought, may come even sooner now.
One thing did trouble him and that was the black heart of Longhaired Nick. That damned kitchen knave had allowed Charlie to go to his doom without so much as raising the alarm. Well, he would deal with the Longhaired Nick when he returned. The bony creature would regret his choice of inactivity as far as Charlie’s abduction was concerned. The more Sir Geoffrey thought about Longhaired Nick, the more he became uncomfortable with the whole situation. Nick had been far too quick to give up his secret, even if one took the beating into account. Nick was a wiry and tough individual and would normally not have given up so easily.
The more Sir Geoffrey pondered the matter, the more uneasy he became and then it hit him like a powerful blow to the belly. What if he had been sent on a wild goose chase-a fool’s errand? Perhaps there had been no robbers at all and it had been a completely fictitious story dreamt up by the rogue in order to get him away from the castle. But for what purpose? Why would Nick send him all the way here when he could just as easily have said that he did not know where Charlie had been taken? Suddenly
, Sir Geoffrey realised that there was much more to this than met the eye. He had been sent away from the castle at the very time that Matilda was to visit. It was possibly one of the most important events in years.
The knight cursed his own rashness and stupidity and knew he had been manipulated so that he would be absent from his post. But why? He could not make the leap of logic that he needed to bring reason to this puzzle and it perplexed and angered him in equal measures. Rufus neighed softly as Sir Geoffrey emerged from the bushes and the knight quickly released the tether and agilely pulled himself back up into the saddle, urging Rufus back towards the road. He whispered to his horse, “Do not fail me now Rufus. We belong at Sherebrook. I have no idea why but I feel that we may be needed!”
As soon as they were on the road he spurred Rufus on until they were at full gallop back toward Sherebrook Castle.
THIRTY-SIX
Charlie and Gramps were seated on a fallen tree trunk to the side of the clearing in which the fight had taken place. Gramps had removed the body of Broken Nose and placed it in a ditch and then tied up the remaining man who had, by now, regained his senses. He had attended to Gwendolyn who had been badly bruised by the kick to her ribs but there appeared to be nothing broken. He sat her under the shade of a large oak and gave her some hard-boiled sweets from a leather pouch on his belt. She was hesitant at first but after putting one in her mouth her face crinkled in delight at the strange and unusual taste-so sweet and, well, fruity. She was fascinated by the cellophane wrappers and studied them intently as Gramps asked her to excuse him whilst he spoke to Charlie alone.
He had told Charlie that he would answer all the questions that he was bursting to ask but first Charlie had to relate everything that had happened since he had been thrown back into the past. Charlie told the story of his discovery of the time portal and told his grandfather that he was sorry to have been so curious and that he would never do that again. He told of the meeting with Sir Geoffrey de Lancie and how the knight had decided that Charlie would be his squire. He told of his running battle with Longhaired Nick, of his meeting with the king, of the story he had made up to conceal the obvious signs that he was not a local and that he wore strange clothes. He related to Gramps the way he had discovered the plot to kidnap the king by spying on Longhaired Nick and Sir Robert of Gloucester and how that had led him to prison. Finally, he related the story of his escape and how he had ended up here, in this glade, at the mercy of Sir Robert’s men.
All the while Gramps was listening intently and, other than the occasional nod of what Charlie assumed was approval; he gave little away to betray what he thought of this chain of events.
“So, I guessed that I had travelled in time back to the twelfth century but I don’t understand how that happened, Gramps. I decided to try and make the best of things and it seems that I didn’t really make a very good job of it. If you had not arrived, when you did, I would be on my way back to prison and you would never have found me.”
Charlie finished his recollection of events and waited anxiously for his grandfather to react. It seemed to take an age, rather than the few seconds it actually took, as Gramps repeatedly stroked his chin and ran his fingers through his steel grey hair.
“Charlie, what can I say? I am truly impressed by the way that you have handled everything that the last few weeks have thrown at you. Your resilience, imagination and ingenuity have known no bounds. I am so proud of you. I am not angry that you found the time portal but I just wish I had secured it better and had been able to tell you about it and instruct you before you actually used it. There is so much for you to know but, ironically, we do not have the time right now. The main task is for us to get back to our own time and to make sure that we leave as little trace of ourselves in the timeline as possible. I will ensure that Gwendolyn has the resources to care for herself. I will give her enough money; she will not have to beg.” Gramps put his hand onto Charlie’s shoulder, “You are without doubt a most extraordinary boy Charlie.”
Charlie, who had sat quietly and had retained the same inscrutable veneer as Gramps, was thinking over what he was being told. There was a completely new set of emotions raging through him now and the arrival of Gramps had changed the balance considerably. Especially now that Charlie knew there was a way to get back to his own time and that he was not going to have to spend the rest of his life in the twelfth century. Even so, he felt he had unfinished business here. Gramps understood that Charlie was thinking matters over and gave him the time for reflection that he needed. When Charlie did speak his voice was measured and considered, it was deeper somehow and more mature. The events of the past few weeks seemed to have bestowed on him wisdom beyond his years.
“I understand, Gramps, that this is not the time to tell me all about the time portal. I also understand the need to return to our own time as quickly as possible. I completely trust you and will do exactly as you say but if I do not warn Sir Geoffrey about the plot to kidnap the king he will never know and then Matilda will succeed in her plan. That would be a problem if history does not record that as happening. And, to tell you the truth, I would like to see Sir Geoffrey again and say goodbye. He has been good to me and if I had not received his protection, I suspect that I would not have made it this far.”
Gramps was taken aback a little at Charlie’s resolve to complete things and his immediate impulse was to argue with Charlie and to insist that they not stay any longer. He thought for a few moments, his brow furrowing as he did so, and then fished into the inside breast pocket of his tunic for the Citadel. He snapped open the cover and the small screen burned into blue life. Gramps studied the screen intently and tapped a few buttons. He saw that the kidnapping of the king was still glowing red and showing as non-eventuality, the timeline was still affected by Charlie’s presence. Removing Charlie would not correct the situation and so Gramps made a decision that went against all his instincts.
He closed the Citadel and said, “Charlie, we will ride to Sherebrook and warn Sir Geoffrey to look for a plot to kidnap Stephen. We will also tell him not to leave the king unguarded. At the same time you will be able to say your farewells.”
Gramps smiled at Charlie. “Make yourself ready to leave.”
“Thank you Gramps,” said Charlie, but he had a puzzled look on his face,
“One thing I do not understand though, Gramps, is that if I was not here to warn of the plot to kidnap the king, then it would go ahead, but history says that it does not…does this mean I have always been here to upset Matilda’s plan?”
“What you have here Charlie is a classic time paradox which can tax anyone’s mind. It is imperative that we leave the timeline uncorrupted and if that means that you are instrumental then so be it. Rather than as a paradox, those who understand these matters explain it as a Closed Loop Event but I will take all the time in the world to explain that when we return. Right now I suggest that we gather up our things and get on our way.”
“Okay,” said Charlie. “Gwendolyn and I will be ready shortly.”
“Ah….” said Gramps. “Charlie, I am afraid that we must part company with Gwendolyn now. We cannot keep her with us any longer.”
“Why not?” Charlie’s’ voice had a mixture of indignation, surprise and despondency.
“Simply because it is imperative that contact is kept to a minimum with people in different times. I grant you that this is not easy and since you have had so much interaction it seems almost academic now, but we must start as we mean to go on. I am sorry but Gwendolyn must leave us.”
Gwendolyn was out of earshot, and had eaten her way through the sweets that Gramps had given her, but she was starting to get restless and Charlie could see that she had recovered from her assault and was looking intently at Gramps and Charlie.
“Gramps, I am sorry to argue with you again, but Gwendolyn is my responsibility. She helped me escape from prison and I cannot aban
don her now. She has nowhere to go and is hunted by Sir Robert’s men. I promised her that I would help her to reach Sherebrook castle. Please allow her to travel with us; on her own she may not make it.”
Once again Gramps was thrown into a dilemma and once again he had to make a decision that he felt uncomfortable with.
“All right Charlie, your friend can accompany us to Sherebrook, I doubt that she needs your protection quite as much as you seem to think she does but I understand that you have given your word. I also think that it is admirable that you won’t go back on it.” He put his arm around Charlie’s shoulder and gave him a grandfatherly hug. “Now then, we really must get a move on if we are to reach the castle before the plot is carried out.”
By now Gwendolyn had stood up, adjusted herself, and was at Charlie’s side. Gramps had left the clearing to retrieve Searcher from where he had tethered him, a hundred meters further along the road.
“You were talking about me, were you not?” she asked.
“Yes. We were,” confirmed Charlie, choosing not to lie.
“What were you deciding?” She had a look of concern in her face, having no idea who Gramps was other than a ferocious knight who had dispatched two men at arms without having to work too hard and who had clearly displayed reservations about her. “And, Charlie Watts,
once again you confound me. Who is this knight and how do you know him?”
“This knight is my grandfather who has travelled from Putney to find me. He was concerned about what was best for you and I told him that I had promised to take you to Sherebrook and make sure that you were safe. I have told him of my mission to warn the king of Matilda’s abduction plans and my grandfather will aid us, then, he insists, I must return to Putney with him.”
Charlie Watts and the Rip in Time Page 21
