The Time Portal 5: The Nazi

by Joe Corso

  “Well, what have you found out.”

  “She was here, sergeant. And that’s a fact. But where she went from here is anyone’s guess.”

  “Damn it. I don’t want any guesses. I want you to go back out there and find out where she went.”

  Keisling kept a watchful eye on which stalls the men-at-arms had entered, and he noticed the increasing frustration on each of their faces. But most of all, he paid keen attention to the reports they gave to their sergeant, and he began to get an uneasy feeling in his gut. Something wasn’t right. He could just feel it.

  “Sergeant, what’s over in that area?”

  He pointed to the area behind the part of the keep near where the vendor stalls were set up. The sergeant looked to where he pointed.

  “That’s the jousting field. It is located on this side of the river.”

  “And beyond that?”

  “That’s the road leading away from the castle.”

  It dawned on the sergeant what Keisling was asking him.

  “Come on, men. Forget about questioning anyone else. Follow me.”

  They rushed to the gates and stopped for a moment to question the guard.

  “Has Princess Krystina passed through the gates?”

  “Yes, sergeant, she has.”

  “How long ago was it that she passed through here?”

  The guard thought for a moment.

  “About an hour ago. She passed through the gates accompanied by a big man.”

  Keisling had slipped away to the stables, to get Vortice the moment he heard that the princess had passed through the gate. The men felt the pounding hooves before they saw the rider. Keisling pulled up, sliding to a stop in front of the gate.

  “Sergeant. Tell the men to get their horses and follow me. I’m going after whoever it was that kidnapped the princess.”

  Both of the sergeant’s eyes widened. “You’re sure that she was kidnapped?”

  “No, I’m not sure. But it’s better to err on the side of caution, than to find out that we were wrong. I’m riding on ahead. They can’t be that far ahead, and I should catch up to them quickly. It won’t be hard to follow my trail, but hurry, because I don’t know how many men are involved in this kidnapping . . . if there was one. I hope to God that I’m wrong, but I do not believe I am. Hurry to your horses, and follow me.”

  The sergeant roared, “You heard the man. The princess may have been kidnapped. To your horses, men.”

  They left running in the direction of the castle; at the same time, Keisling kicked his spurs and Vortice leaped ahead in a bound. Having been cooped up in a stall, he was anxious to run. He took off like four-legged lightning, and soon, Keisling was galloping through the countryside, riding in the only direction the kidnappers could be heading - towards the mountain, and Spain. He traveled along the dirt road for about a half of a mile when he came upon a large man lying bloodied by the side of the road. He leaped off of his horse and ran to the man. He had been run through with a blade and left for dead. Keisling lifted the man’s head. “Can you hear me?” The man’s eyes opened and, thinking this was his enemy, he tried to lash out, but Keisling held his arms down and talked to him.

  “I’m a friend. Where have they taken the princess?”

  Tears glistened in the man’s eyes. “I was her protector. The wizard left me here to protect the princess and I failed. I am a fighting man. I use my fists. I know nothing of swords or knives.”

  Tor’s voice was weak, so he grabbed Keisling by the collar and brought him closer to him so Keisling could hear what he had to say to him.

  “He had scars on evil-looking face. Even though he run me through with sword, I break nose and blacken his eyes. You recognize when you see him. Go now. Save princess. She is such fine lady - and - and . . . failed her, and - I failed Lucky.” Keisling pulled apart Tor’s blouse and he took a look at his wound. He had been run through, but he couldn’t tell if any major organs were hit.

  “I’m sorry, my friend, but if I’m to save the princess, I must be going.”

  “Wait. They took her and baby in carriage; you catch them if you hurry.”

  Keisling patted Tor on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me that. Now I’m going to strap your side so that you won’t lose any more blood, but that is all I can do for you for now. Others are following. I’m sure one of them will stay behind and tend to your wound.”

  Keisling turned, waved with his back to Tor and, in one athletic leap, he was on his horse and galloping away to save the princess.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  The first bundle came crashing through the portal, then the next, and then one by one, the others, until finally Lucky stepped out onto the castle grounds, almost bumping into the sergeant and his men. They were stunned at first, but having encountered the king’s wizard before, this time, they weren’t as frightened. Although, to be truthful, they were always intimidated by the awesome powers that this wizard displayed.

  “Sir Lucky. Thanks to the gods you are here.”

  Lucky suddenly felt dizzy. He had been feeling something all day and now the feeling was much worse. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, and he asked a question that he really didn’t want to know the answer to.

  “What . . . what has happened?”

  “It’s the princess. Her and the baby have been taken.”

  Lucky’s knees buckled, but before falling to the ground, he grabbed the sergeant’s shoulder for support. Slowly, his head cleared.

  “When did this happen?”

  “About an hour ago. A man is already speeding after them.”

  “What happened to Tor? I left him here to protect the princess.”

  “We don’t know, sir.”

  Lucky noticed the concern on their faces. “Where were you going now?”

  “To the stables to get our horses. Have no fear; we will find them.”

  “Bring a horse for me too. I’m going with you. . . You!” He pointed to one of the men. “Inform the king that I have brought medicines and supplies. Tell him to have some men take them to the castle and put them in a safe place. I’ll inform the king what the boxes contain when I return.”

  The sergeant pointed to a man and he dashed off. An extra horse was taken and when they approached the area near the portal, men were already carrying the boxes into the castle. The guard, who had brought the men, was waiting by the portal for his horse and, when it was brought to him, he leaped upon it, and the eight of them rode off after Keisling, hoping that he would find the princess in time. It was frustrating to Lucky because before this incident with the titanium, all he had to do was to think of the princess, and a portal would appear that would take him to her. But with his limited powers, he could no longer count on that.

  The men found Tor, badly injured, lying by the side of the road. Tor could barely speak, but he managed to tell them what had happened, and how Keisling helped him. “Sergeant, have one of your men take Tor back to the castle and have someone treat his wounds. Make sure you tell them to keep him alive until I get back. If I have to, I’ll take him somewhere where his wounds can be treated properly,” Lucky said somberly.

  CHAPTER 33

  12TH CENTURY ENGLAND

  Keisling saw the dust cloud kicked up by the horses and wagon before he spotted the small group of men. He kicked his spurs and soon came upon the wagon and he pulled alongside of it. He noticed that three of the men were soldiers, two were priests, and the civilian had an ugly scarred evil face with two very noticeable black eyes, and a broken nose. Keisling pulled his horse to the front of the carriage and tugged on the reins, which caused the horses to come to a stop.

  “See here, young man. What do you mean by stopping our horses? My companion and I are priests traveling far, and we must make haste while there is still daylight.” The Spanish soldiers accompanying the priest were wearing civilian clothing. They were under orders to do nothing to aid Stengal unless he was killed, and then they would act.
Keisling knew these men were soldiers because the soldiers he had traveled with had been dressed the same way.

  Keisling laughed. He feared no one in this group except maybe the man with the scars – him, he respected - but didn’t fear. He would have to be careful with that one. He looked like a backstabber, someone with no honor.

  “Please forgive me, Father I do not mean to delay you. If you just hand me the princess and her child, I will allow you to go on your way.”

  The priests looked at one another. Then they looked at Stengal for help. He had to take care of this meddler or they would not succeed in their mission and they feared ex-communication by the church if they did fail. Stengal sneered.

  “Get out of our way, popinjay, or you will be forced to face me, and believe me, that’s the last thing you want to happen.”

  Keisling laughed loudly. “Is that all you do is talk, and bluster, like an old washer woman? I doubt if you are a fighting man. You appear to me to be a backstabber. Yes! Now that I look at you, I can see it now. You, sir, are most definitely a backstabber. There, I said it. Now am I wrong, my good man?”

  Keisling yawned, took a hanky from his pocket, and dabbed at his mouth. He did this more to irritate the man with the scars than anything else - and it was working.

  “I’ll show you who’s a fighting man. No man can call me a backstabber and get away with it.”

  “Ho hum. You, my ugly friend, are nothing but a backstabber. You probably backstabbed that poor man I found lying by the side of the road back there. Yes, you did that. No one else would think of stabbing that poor man in the back but you.”

  Keisling pointed daintily behind him with his hanky still in his hand.

  “The condition of the poor man proves it. You ran your sword through a defenseless man. You, sir, are a coward, besides being a backstabber.”

  Stengal was frothing at the mouth mad. He leaped off of his horse.

  “Get down off your horse and fight like a man. I’ll show you who I really am.”

  “Oh dear,” Keisling said, loud enough for Stengal to hear. “Now I am really frightened. Or am I? Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Keisling dismounted and turned to face Stengal while still holding his handkerchief to his nose.

  Stengal pulled his sword from its scabbard and Keisling did the same.

  “Tell me, are you the only one the inquisition send to kill me?”

  “Yes!” Stengal snarled. “They don’t need anyone else but me. I’ve killed many better men than you.”

  “Stabbed them in the back, did you?”

  “No, I killed them the way that I’m going to kill you.”

  “I see. Like you killed the fellow back there on the road, eh?” Keisling yawned and dusted his lapel with his handkerchief. “Oh my, this is so boring, and I am being rude. Would you prefer I turned my back on you? It might make it easier for you to kill me if I did that . . . don’t you agree?”

  Stengal was getting more and more angry. He was in a fit to kill anyone especially, Keisling, but this was exactly the mood Keisling wanted him in. Keisling had fought enough men to know that when a man was this angry, he was apt to make a mistake. Since Keisling didn’t know how good a fighting man Stengal was, he wanted him angry, very angry. Keisling was a time-tested warrior of many battles, and in many hand-to-hand conflicts usually fought to the death. He wasn’t the least bit afraid of Stengal, but he wanted the advantage, and by angering him the way he did, he just bought it.

  Just as the swords clanged, Lucky and the men pulled up. He leaned over to the sergeant.

  “I take it Mr. Ugly over there isn’t our man.”

  “No, sir. The one with the blond hair is. The king, not knowing much about him, was a little suspicious, but not any longer.”

  Lucky watched with interest at the obvious experience both men had with swords. Stengal’s eyes were wide open and he appeared to be stressed, whereas Keisling appeared to be relaxed and was slowly gaining the upper hand. Lucky leaned over and told the sergeant to have his men take control of the priest while he checked to see if his wife and child were safe. He walked over to the carriage and opened the door. Krystina’s hands were tied and her mouth was gagged. He reached in and yanked the priest sitting next to her roughly out of the carriage, where he fell to the ground. He cut her wrists free, and then he removed the gag from her mouth. She threw her arms around him.

  “Lucky, you always appear when I need you most.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder, as if exhaustion had overcome her. They remained in that position for a while, and then Lucky, holding his gun in his hand, stepped out of the carriage and stood beside the sergeant. He figured he’d keep his gun handy just in case he needed it. Lucky watched with fascination at the clash of steel upon steel, with no man seeming to better the other.

  “Are you getting tired, old man? Please tell me. Maybe I should turn my back; it might make it easier for you. It seems that you have difficulty killing a man who is facing you.”

  Keisling taunted Stengal, which only infuriated the man further. Keisling laughed to himself. It was so easy to pull this man’s strings, and now it was time to cut them.

  “Are you ready to meet your maker, backstabber?”

  Stengal became incensed at the remark and he lunged, but Keisling turned aside and ducked under Stengal’s blade, which missed Keisling, but just barely, as his blade cut hairs on Keisling’s head, but Keisling’s sword ran true, piercing Stengal’s heart. As Stengal fell dying, Keisling started to walk toward the carriage, another assassin, the one dressed as a priest that Lucky had thrown out of the carriage, raised his hand and was about to throw his blade, but Lucky spotted it and lifted his Hershel FN and fired one shot, which struck the assassin in the arm, shattering the bone. When they left Spain, the assassin was dressed as a priest. When they approached King Robert’s castle, because he appeared to be a priest, he’d be in a position to help Stengal, should he need it. The ruse almost worked.

  Keisling looked at Lucky.

  “You must be the king’s wizard.” He smiled warmly and walked toward Lucky, showing a set of white teeth, which was unusual for someone in this time period.

  “I heard a lot about you, and I looked forward to meeting you, only I didn’t expect to be saved by a display of wizardly magic.”

  Lucky smiled back. This guy wasn’t intimidated by him, as all the others he met were. He liked him. “I want to thank you for saving my wife and baby. I owe you, so if you ever need me for anything, just ask, and if it’s in my power to grant it, I will.”

  Keisling laughed again, but this time lightly. “I hope that I’ll never have to ask the great wizard for that favor, but while I’m waiting, what say we get a jug of ale and talk for a while.”

  Lucky put his hands on his hips and laughed louder this time. “That sounds like a plan, my friend. Only it will have to wait until we get back to the castle. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  CHAPTER 34

  12TH CENTURY ENGLAND

  Lucky had made up his mind to punish this new chief inquisitor, but he had a problem. He no longer could create a portal that could take him where he wanted to go. He didn’t want to travel those many months over the mountains to get to Spain. There had to be another way, but he couldn’t figure out what it could be. Well, he’d just have to meditate on the problem, and allow his subconscious mind to allow the solution to bubble up to his conscious mind. Yeah, he thought. This time I’ll let my subconscious do all the work, and let it find the answer for me. He was glad to have Keisling for company. The man was charming, confident, and he was a fighting man, a soldier who wasn’t afraid to do battle. Lucky had watched him fight a master swordsman and defeat him soundly. Because Keisling had saved Krystina and his child, Lucky decided that he would reward the man; the only problem was he had no idea how he would reward him. Oh well. Something would come to him. He was sure of that.

  That night, Lucky told Krystina everything that had happened to
him. He even told her about the titanium bracelets and where he was when they were taken off of his wrists - and whom it was that took them off. He explained how the titanium bracelets neutralized his ability to create time portals. He was sure his powers would return, he told her, but beneath the calm facade he showed outwardly, he wasn’t really sure about his powers returning, but he wouldn’t let anyone know how he felt.

  That night he turned and tossed and had a fitful night, trying to find sleep. He even got up once and went to the kitchen to get a tankard of warm milk. The milk appeared to work, for he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, or so it seemed to him. He felt himself falling into an abyss and when he reached bottom, he heard a whooshing sound. Then he found himself standing before a bearded man who was neither young nor old. He was at once muscular and yet in need of conditioning, yet he appeared ageless, and his demeanor never changed. “Who are you?” Lucky asked.

  The man, although somber, smiled benignly at Lucky. “I am he who has always been, who is now, and who will forever be, for I am he who watches over you. I am one of your guides.”

  Lucky was confused. “What the hell is - excuse me. What is a guide?”

  “A guide is he who watches over you, and guides you through troubled times.”

  Lucky looked down at his feet and then he looked at the man, who was staring at him with interest, or a better word might be “amusement.” “Can you help me? I’ve been going through some troubling times.”