Guardians of Time
Page 2
“You think it was my choice to leave my home and travel in Time with you?”
“I asked first.”
Will leapt to his feet, cursed under his breath, and left their apartment. Rhiannon had to assure herself there was no smoke coming from his nostrils.
“Our father was insistent,” said Tom, “which was fine with me. I love an adventure, and I never mind the tough life of the road.”
“I see.”
“We live in an amazing castle,” continued Tom, “with every luxury a Dragon Man, or any man or woman, for that matter, could wish for. That’s why I love adventure ... coming home is so welcome and wonderful.”
His grin was infectious, and now that his beard was trimmed and his hair was plaited, Rhiannon admitted to herself that she liked his handsome face.
“And Will?”
“He is Father’s heir. His life is hunting, game playing, and hoard gathering ... oh, and finding a suitable wife to be his queen.”
“But what does he do?”
“Whatever he chooses. He has slaves to do everything else.”
“And you?”
“I am lucky. My food is prepared for me, my clothes and bedding are washed, and I have access to Father’s library.”
“Does your father have slaves to do his bidding?”
“No. Father pays his household staff, and he pays his army.” Tom blushed. “Only Will has slaves.”
“You mean, he has taken humans from the Earth, and he uses them?”
“Father doesn’t like it, but Will is his own person and will do as he likes.”
Rhiannon picked up her sewing. “I can see why there was so much concern in the Star Chamber; your brother will be king of Hellmain one day, and he may be a threat to the Guardians.”
“It’s just his way,” insisted Tom. “I’ve always been the relaxed one, but then again, I don’t want to rule anyone, govern, or be in charge of anything if I can help it, whereas Will has had expectation thrust upon him.”
“Well, he’ll have to accept our mission at some point, or we’ll never convince the natives we’re a family.”
Thirty Earth days passed for the team. Star Helene, vibrating and pulsing red and orange, moved to join her cluster, The Sisters. Rhiannon woke to the sound of the Time horn ringing out from the Sky Castle. She knew it sounded in every residential block in the system. While the Master Guardians raised and manipulated the power in the Vortex Room, all Guardians were needed in their Star Towers to provide the energy in the first place. It was every Guardian’s duty to give everything he or she had to make it a successful jump.
On Earth day twenty-one, the team had entered the Vortex Room for the first time to acclimatize themselves to the energy. Skin heated as if burned by a star, and ears popped and crackled like a newly lit fire. Eyes dried, lids struggling to blink, and yet sweat prickled all over their bodies, soaking them, while the heat on their skin dried it to a white residue in seconds. All of that was without the jump itself. Tom asked her to describe the sensation and how long it lasted.
“Have you ever drunk Marsenté?” she inquired.
“You mean the flying drink? We call it Dragon’s Eye because you can see beyond, inside, and through, just as the dragon can,” said Tom.
“Well, remember the moment when it first takes hold, a feeling of being in two places at the same time?”
“Yes?”
“Multiply that by a few thousand, and that’s the sensation of Time Travel. Of course, there are temperature changes, air differences, weather disturbances, and many other variables that add their own special ingredients to the mix, so no jump is ever the same, but that gives you some idea of what to expect.”
“But you have no idea how long it takes?”
Her patience had been tested that day, and she’d snapped at him. “Think, Tom! Where would one measure the experience from and in what Time structure? It’ll take as long as it takes ... if we make it to Earth at all!”
When she saw the understanding on his face, swiftly followed by fear, she wished she had been kinder.
They’d partaken of their final meal before their rest, but they hydrated before picking up their small bags of personal belongings. Rhiannon and Tom had made them from tough hemp fabric and had stowed some hemp seeds in the pockets. They also carried a bag of small metal objects that would be placed directly on their jump stone once they were naked, along with the brooches and buckles that fastened the clothes they stood up in.
Rhiannon followed Tom and Will to meet the Master Guardians in the Vortex Room, her heart beating in her ears, and her palms damp with expectation. Looking at her companions, she was reassured they would blend in with the native tribes. Her braided red hair fell to her waist, while the men’s hair was partly braided and cut ragged to their shoulders. Their beards were trimmed and adorned with small braids and amber beads, while she wore a single piece of amber at her throat. Will had been pried from his lotions and preparations, massages and baths, and had taken on an even more rugged, hungry look.
Stepping into the Vortex Room, Rhiannon took a few moments to compose herself and rebalance her body. They were more than a hundred strides from the jump room, yet the hairs on her skin stood away from her body, and her eyelids struggled to blink. Master Almira greeted them, beckoning them to a small dais in the center of the room. From there, Rhiannon looked up to see rows of balconies, spiraling out of her sight. Every one of them was crammed with Master Guardians voicing their opinions. Almira raised a hand, and silence fell on the gathering.
“Masters, Guardians, it is Time.” She turned to the team beside her. “With our blessing, travel with speed and safety, and we wish you all a gentle landing.”
The roar of good wishes sent them on their way to the jump room, washing them along like twigs in a stream. At the door, Rhiannon took to her knee before Almira and accepted the kiss on her forehead and embrace bestowed upon her. Tom followed her lead. Will ignored them, peering through the transparent coating on the door.
“Good luck,” said Master Almira, her voice wavering with concern. “Rhiannon, trust your intuition and learn from the humans while you are on the Earth.”
Rhiannon kept her gaze from her, for fear she would take on her teacher’s emotion and shed unwanted tears. Now was not the time; she had a routine to follow.
Standing naked on her jump stone, Rhiannon tried not to look to either side, but concentrated on the mandala before her, as she’d been taught, while the air around her became charged and hot.
“Here we go then,” said Tom. “Can I just say, I hope we don’t land in a river, or worse still, if it’s cold, the middle of a market square.”
Rhiannon smiled. Trust a man to worry about ...
RHIANNON DECIDED THAT traveling from one Time to another felt like Earth seconds and months all lived at the same time. She took a mental inventory of her body; her limbs were sore, her lips were parched, and bruises scattered across the skin of her arms as she rubbed them. There was blood on her ankle where the jump stone had shattered and caught her. She dropped to the grass, shaking her head and attempting to lose the fog that shrouded her thinking. There was yarrow salve in her bag that would stop the bleeding, and a bandage to hold it in place. She fumbled with the fastening, her mind struggling to send messages to the appropriate nerves and muscles.
She glanced around her. There was no sign of Tom or Will, but behind her, less than a hundred strides away, was a swathe of trees that would give her cover once she’d repaired her ankle. She shivered, concentrating on her task. Her ankle was badly bruised as well as lacerated, so a tight bandage was essential if she was going to run to the trees.
Remembering her landing routine, she opened the largest of her bags, and, moving systematically around the space of her jump stone, she retrieved all the objects and possessions she’d brought with her. They had all survived, though some metal objects were distorted as if heated and cooled a few times over. It was vital that there was no trace of her arrival on the
Earth, or Earth’s history would contain another unexplained alien encounter or something similar.
Once her bag was packed and she’d checked three times that she’d left nothing behind, Rhiannon, wearing only her shift, shut her eyes, allowing her other senses a chance to explore. There were two large life forms in the wood. She hoped they were Tom and Will. Opening her eyes, ready to run, she tried weight on her ankle. It was going to hurt, but with the sun high in the sky, she needed to be under cover.
The woodland was mixed. Random glades opened up before her, along with small copses dense with new trees. In one of these, she found Tom struggling to clear his head, though he managed to grab a stick to defend himself at her approach.
“My sight is blurry, and I’m dizzy,” he groaned, dropping to the forest floor and holding his head in his hands. “Will this wear off?”
“Yes,” said Rhiannon, using her sensitive hearing to listen for sounds of strangers, “but you’ll probably need to sleep it off. I did the first time. Did you land here?”
“Up that tree,” pointed Tom. “I’m lucky I didn’t break my bones falling out of it!”
“Do you want me to check you over?” asked Rhiannon.
It was at this point that Tom realized he was still naked.
Rhiannon left him to dress and went in search of Will. She found him wet and complaining by a stream that broadened out as it traveled down the hill, through the trees, and into a river.
“How can I help?” asked Rhiannon.
“You can’t, you stupid woman! Everything is soaked or lost! I told you they had no business sending us back in Time so far!”
“I can see a buckle over there,” insisted Rhiannon. “You just need to look. Most of my belongings fell from my jump stone when I landed, but last time, they had scattered over an area of about one hundred strides. I’ll help you look.”
“I don’t need your help,” hissed Will.
Rhiannon straightened up, rubbing her aching back. “Please yourself.”
She was the team leader. It would be beneficial if everyone had their possessions and were in the same place to forward the plan, but punching a team member in the face wouldn’t benefit their quest at all, so it was best she went back to Tom and help make a shelter so they could rest. The sun was past its zenith, and the air was warm and buzzy with biting insects. She found Tom sitting on a stone, clutching his bags and staring into the stream that widened out before disappearing through the trees.
“You feeling any better?”
“Much. Thanks. Is Will with you?”
“He’s not far, but I left him to his moaning.”
“How was his landing?”
“Wet.”
“No wonder he isn’t happy.”
It wasn’t much of a shelter—just an awning of branches and leaves leaning against two small beech trunks—but the weather stayed warm, even when the sun left the sky. Rhiannon, Will, and Tom curled up with their bags to their chests. Rhiannon was asleep before her eyes shut.
They woke the next morning to spears in their sides and a curious, rather than angry, hoard of blue-painted faces staring at them. Rhiannon understood most of their words, having studied the Celtic and Germanic dialects believed to be spoken at this Time, and nodded to her companions to keep quiet. The men who walked behind them, prodding them with their spears, were not the thinkers of the tribe; they were only those sent to discover what the strange lights were that had been seen in the sky the previous day. They were to bring back whatever they found, and though they were not convinced that the strangers were the answer, they had at least found something and were excited to take the strangers to their leader. At this first encounter, Will had kept silent and not shown his temper as he was want to do, which was a relief to Rhiannon.
They walked until Rhiannon’s ankle gave way, and she fell onto the rock-covered ground. Pain caused her to cry out, but she scrambled to her feet, helped by Tom, and attempted to walk on. The blue-painted men stopped them, beckoned for them to sit, and handed them a leather bottle. Will unstoppered it and sniffed. He took a sip and then proceeded to drink more. The bottle was ripped from his grasp by a blue-painted hand and offered to Rhiannon.
She took a welcome drink and offered the bottle back. “Danke. Go raibh maith agat.”
This mixture of language, a Celtic and German medley, was how she’d heard the painted men speak, and they seemed to understand.
The blue-painted man pointed to Tom, and while he took a drink from the bottle, there was a discussion between the men, firstly about where the strangers had come from, secondly, that they spoke their language, and thirdly, that Rhiannon was obviously hurt. She looked down at her ankle and the blood-encrusted bandage and wished she’d had more time to retighten it before they’d begun the walk.
“Tasche?” she asked. “Meine Tasche? Baga? Màla?”
After more discussion, their bags were brought to Rhiannon. She pointed to one of hers. She opened the bag with a spear digging into her neck. She ignored it, busying herself with getting a clean dressing and the salve ready before taking off the old bandage. The stares of fifty men did nothing to dissuade her from her task, or from asking for what she needed. She pointed to the wood just below where they walked along a ridge.
“Ein Stab, bitte. Zum laufen. Shillelagh?”
One of the blue-painted men said something and ran down to the trees. He was back in moments with a few sticks held high above his head. With so many choices, Rhiannon chose two sticks and used them like ski poles to aid her advance along the ridge. She tried to tie her bag to her back, but it was taken from her.
With the sun on its final descent, and Will ahead of her and Tom behind, they emerged from another stand of trees onto the flattest terrain Rhiannon had ever seen. She stopped, gazing at the panorama from east to west, and the small encampment at the bottom of the ridge on which they stood. There were huts of wood, thatch, wattle and daub, many with smoke rising from the middle. They were spotted from below, so they entered the village to be met by every inhabitant, including the king, Prasutagus, his queen, Boudicca, and their two daughters.
These were the human beings Rhiannon had read of, the ones in her history books, and, surveying the faces before her, Rhiannon reached two decisions. The first was that this wasn’t the royal’s main residence, and the second was that their tribe was made up of a mixture of peoples, including Celtic, Welsh, and Germanic. The Iceni tribe in her history books had been a purely Celtic one, but instead, this king and queen had diverse people under their wing.
Furthermore, there were also Romans here. Rhiannon had read that Prasutagus made an alliance with the foreign invaders to protect his people from the factions in the south of the country who still stood up to the Roman invaders, like Cunobelinus’s sons, Caractacus and Togodumnus, who had taken on the Romans at Medway. Despite knowing this, she hadn’t expected Romans to be living in harmony with the Iceni tribe. She understood why Prasutagus wanted his tribe protected, as it covered a large area.
Moreover, he was still alive. She was going to enjoy telling Will they were months away from the battle they’d been sent to win. It wasn’t easy, though, to be face to face with people from Earth’s history. They were real people, with cares and wants and needs, and right now, she was being introduced to a huge man who was going to die soon, and even if she could, she was forbidden to save him.
Rhiannon was a boat on a sea of voices speaking different languages. Words spoken, shouted, and then calmed created waves of hubbub that wobbled her legs. Tom caught her and lifted her into his arms before she hit the floor.
The hut smelled of cabbage and straw. The stuffed mattress was dry, and the animal skins were heavy and warm on her body. She would rest a moment and gather herself before daring to open her eyes. Her limbs relished the rest. She might even sleep. Suddenly, Rhiannon cried out, opened her eyes, and was sitting up ready to eliminate whoever had applied pressure to her ankle. The young woman by her feet laughed.
Herbal smells rose from the hot water in the wooden bowl in the woman’s lap. Rhiannon recognized lavender and chamomile—at least they weren’t trying to poison her.
“Your poultice has worked well,” the woman continued. “I don’t know this herb, do I?”
“I call it yarrow,” said Rhiannon. “It helps a cut stop bleeding. It’s very useful.”
The young woman nodded. Her hair was braided into her head in tight, intricate plaits and adorned with amber beads. The beads caught the firelight, adding to the intensity of the green eyes in her strong, regal face.
“Forgive me,” said Rhiannon, dropping her gaze and her head.
“Please don’t,” said Boudicca. “Your arrival is most welcome. Since the Romans came, I can’t venture far as I used to. Not long ago, I would ride my horse all day to the edges of Iceni land, break bread, eat simple food with my people, and be refreshed by the streams before my ride back, alone. Now, I only travel between our main village and here. I wish to travel further, but if I can’t, I like to hear stories about other places. This place has many guards, watchers, and trackers. At intervals, they take turns to watch another tribe, keeping check of horses and army movements. We get information about the hostility of our neighbors, but little else. I long for news and company.”
“We’ve come from Wales,” explained Rhiannon. “My husband and his brother are with me.”
“Why have you come here?”
The pre-planned story rolled off Rhiannon’s tongue even smoother than the truth. “There has been unrest in our village, outsiders coming in and making changes, not just to our way of life, but trying to affect our thinking.”
“Encouraging the villagers to believe they’re better than other people, and turning neighbor against neighbor?”
“Yes, and let’s say they weren’t keen on including and understanding those from different places or with different ideas, whereas my family has always welcomed folk from other villages, as have Will and Tom’s family. Will spoke up, as is his way, and there was talk, nasty talk, so we left.”