Electra felt the knight move a little in the saddle and he lifted a hand in greeting. “Good day to you, Corinne.”
Corinne and the others in the field wore clothes like farmer Wildon and his wife. Electra considered possibility after possibility to explain what was going on and none made sense, not really. She gave up. Once they arrived at Elysian Fields and Simon’s lie about it standing strong was disproven, then she’d demand answers. Everyone within earshot would feel her wrath. She’d demand a message be sent to Roger. When she and Emily were free from this band of loons, she’d tell him about how nightmarish the day had been. She’d fill Alex and Shakira in on how their names were being dropped.
They passed the clearing where the outcropping and picnic area was and both Electra and Emily stretched tall in the saddle. Electra yelled for Roger.
“Be quiet,” Harold told her.
She yelled again. After all, if he got rough with her, Roger would beat the snot out of him. To her disappointment, no return call came in return.
“I said, be quiet. No one wants to hear your caterwauling.”
“You be quiet, you nut bar.”
“I don’t know what is a nut bar, but I know caterwauling, so hush up.”
“I will not and if you get physical trying to make me, my boyfriend will beat the snot out of you. Take that to the bank.”
“I don’t hurt women, even those speaking jibberish. I have no idea what a boyfriend is but I can surmise it means you favor the attentions of a lad over a man. I am not afraid of your boy- lover.”
She should let the subject go, not engage. He was being an idiot. “Don’t play coy. You’ve heard the term boyfriend a thousand times. She turned enough to see his face. “Should we go back and ask your little girlfriend, Corinne, if she calls you her boyfriend?”
Harold cracked a smile, the first Electra had seen him do. “We haven’t the time, and if we did, she would never use such a word to describe me. I am a man, out of my boyhood many years. Glad of it, too.”
****
They came into a clearing, Electra and Emily recognized as where the ruins of Elysian Fields stood. But that wasn’t what stood before them now. Instead of the scattered blocks of blonde stone the sisters played on as children, there were stone towers flanking an arched gated entrance. A crenellated curtain wall two stories high fanned out from the towers. Armed men dressed like Harold and Simon patrolled the ramparts. From a corner tower, one of the armed men announced their approach.
They rode across a wooden drawbridge that covered a moat filled with water. Of course, the sisters had known there’d been a moat in the days Elysian Fields served as a fortress. In their lifetimes, water never filled it. It was a grass-covered dip in the ground.
Inside the bailey, a three-story round keep like the one at Windsor dominated the other buildings. A wide stone staircase led to the massive oak entry doors, gone black with age. The stairs were dimpled in the middle from use. From use. How could that be true?
After she and her sisters got to know Shakira, she’d taken them on a tour of the grounds pointing out where the different buildings were located. Off to the right, young ragamuffin boys played with hounds near a row of kennels where Shakira said the kennels originally were. To the left a stable stood where Shakira said it had been. Next to the stable a bare-chested, heavyset farrier nailed a shoe to a horse’s hoof he held between his legs.
The scene was straight out of a Hollywood set for a medieval movie. The bits and pieces Electra heard from passersby were spoken in the same archaic version of English the knights used. For a movie set, the production company spared no expense with the detail work on the facades. They’d built a remarkable reproduction of a Norman castle.
The entrance of their party had caused a stir. Several older teenage boys came over, and acting as squires, took the reins of the knights horses from the men. Cameras had to be running somewhere to capture the action. Electra looked around the immediate vicinity for a sound boom or glint from a camera lens. She didn’t see either. The crew must’ve been very creative to hide equipment so well.
Simon dismounted first. She expected him to have an awkward time of it, considering his missing leg and Emily in front of him. Neither impeded him. When he was on the ground, he lifted Emily from the saddle without the aid of his crutch to support him.
“Help her down,” he said to Harold.
Harold and the third knight dismounted. Harold raised his hands to Electra, following Simon’s order.
“I don’t need your help,” she told him.
Harold grabbed her around the waist and lifted her down in spite of her protests. He turned his back and walked away while she was still mid-protest.
“What do you think is going on?” Emily asked, joining her.
“I’d guess this was a movie set. But don’t you think we’d have heard if they were making a movie here? I can’t imagine Alex or Shakira or Esme or Stephen not saying something.”
With a sweeping gesture, Emily said, “Neither can I. For a set like this, they had to truck in all sorts of equipment and workmen. Everyone in the area would know.”
“I’ve been looking and can’t see where they put the camera or the sound men with boom mics. Where are the dressing trailers?” Electra and Emily turned in every direction searching.
“Maybe it’s a reality show, like Survivor. Only instead of an island they’re doing a Could you survive the Middle Ages show.”
“Still need to have cameras somewhere,” Electra said.
A little girl approached and looked up, big-eyed at Electra. “Momma says you’re witches. She says the knights will take you to the village for burning soon, before you can put a spell on us.” She looked from Electra to Emily and back. “I’ve never seen a witch. Momma says we can throw kindling on the pyre.”
“We’re not witches. We’re not here to put a spell on anyone or anything. We’ve gotten lost and just want to find our way home,” Electra reassured her and reached to touch the girl’s hair.
A woman wearing an ugly brown, wool dress and a plain cloth handkerchief on her head, like a mobcap, came running. She swatted at Electra’s hand. “Filthy witch, you’ll not touch my daughter with your wickedness.” She put her hand on the child’s shoulder and led her away.
Emily flapped her hand in front of her face. “Phew, did you get a whiff of that woman? She smelled like she slept in a goat pen.”
“I got a snootful.”
“I hope they’re joking with the burning at the stake threat.”
Of course it was a joke; a joke that was wearing thin. Time to put an end to this charade. She started toward the Keep.
“Where are you going?” Emily asked.
“I want to find someone in charge, the director or a production person, hell at this point, I’ll talk to an extra. We need to get on our way. Whatever is going on here, Simon is up to his hips in it. He’s shown no inclination to help us.”
“No producer or director will allow you to wander around their movie set.”
“Nothing would please me more than to get kicked out of here.” She stopped and turned to Emily. “While we’re on the subject of Simon, what’s up with that moment you two had back at the farm?”
“We didn’t have a moment.”
Electra raised a halting hand. “Please. I know that look you two had. I also saw how cozy you two were on the ride here.”
“We had a pleasant conversation. He was very nice.”
“He is not your friend. All we’ve heard is superstitious idiocy that we’re witches or spies. This adherence to staying in character by everyone is a royal pain in the arse. I’m fed up with all of it.”
Turning back, Emily said, “Something we don’t understand is going on here. I’m not ashamed to say, I’m getting more afraid not less. I don’t know why they’ve brought us to this place against our will and that frightens me more than you know. I have to hold onto something good, some hope we’re going to come out of this okay. I
’m not as strong as you. I have to keep my chin up, or I’ll fall apart.”
Electra hugged her sister. “Another time, another place, and I’d be fine with you being you. Until we know what is going on, I need you to buck up. Can you do that?”
Emily took a deep breath. “I’ll be as steely as you.”
“Good.” She released Emily and started again for the Keep.
“Where are you going?” A nicely dressed, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and well-trimmed beard jogged over to her. He looked clean and smelled clean, but he too wore medieval clothing.
“Are you the person in charge?” Electra asked.
“I am Richard Armstrong, the castle steward. I am in charge of the daily workings of the castle for Master Geoffrey, the new Baron.”
“Please take us to him. This whole scenario has gone way too far and he needs to know and do something about it.”
“Master Geoffrey is not here. He is only six years old and lives with his parents yet, in Somerset. I will endeavor to answer your questions. Shall we go inside?”
“We don’t want to go inside. If the young master isn’t here, and you can’t stop this nonsense, then we insist you allow us to leave.”
“Simon says you might be spies.”
Emily smiled at Simon who had come to listen to the conversation. “I don’t think he still believes that. Do you?”
Simon smiled back. “Well, milady, you haven’t shown much cunning. I confess, I have my doubts about your spying abilities.”
“I’ll have you know, Sir Simon, I’m thought quite clever by my friends,” Emily told him, lips twitching with a suppressed smile.
What was she thinking, flirting with him? “Emily—” Electra shot her a hard-eyed-older-sister-warning look. “We discussed this.” She indicated Simon with a quick eye movement.
Willful as always, Emily rolled her eyes in return, knowing how that irritated Electra.
“Spies or not, I cannot let you leave until you’ve explained your presence on the Baron’s land,” Richard told Electra.
“Let’s cut the horse manure. What are you people? Is this a reality show, or a movie, or some weird-ass social experiment? No matter which it is, you’ve gone too far keeping us here. I know a thing or two about the law and what you’re doing is illegal,” Electra said.
Both Simon and Richard stared at her, blank expressions on their faces. The only reaction she got was when she told them to cut the horse manure. That comment raised their brows.
She waved her hand in front of them. “Hello boys, are we all on the same page now? Has it sunk in this game is going to get you arrested?”
Richard looked to Simon who gave a slight shake of his head and returned to Electra. “I’ve no idea what you mean ‘are we on the same page.’ As to an arrest, the Baron Guiscard was the local authority. Now, it is I who hear the cases in the new Baron’s stead, until he relocates to Elysian Fields.”
“Weird-ass? Foul language does not become you,” Simon added.
Electra itched to choke him. “We’re done here. Come on, Emily. We’re going.”
Electra had only gone two strides before a strong hand gripped her arm and forced her back. The crutch hadn’t slowed Simon. He held tight onto her bicep and said to Emily. “I’m taking your sister inside the Keep. Do you join her willing or do I have one of my men physically bring you along?”
“I’ll come on my own and so will Electra. Won’t you?” she asked Electra, who nodded. “Please just let her go.”
Simon pulled Electra around in front of him. “Don’t give me a reason to put you in manacles.” Her gave her a stiff shake then released her.
“Ladies, if you’ll follow me,” Richard said and led them to the keep. Simon trailed behind.
The entry doors opened to a Great Hall, impressive and imposing. Straw-like rushes covered the floor giving off the scent of fresh mown grass. Behind the fresh smell of the rushes lingered the scent of residual smoke. Far from offensive, the familiar odors comforted Electra. Rectangular leaded glass windows lined the walls. The windows were positioned to provide maximum natural light to enhance the softer light from the torches. On the eastern wall, a fireplace tall enough for a man to stand in was cut into the stone. Long tables, like picnic tables and their benches stood on end along the walls. At the head of the room, another long table sat on a raised platform with individual chairs. Behind it, hung two large tapestries. One showed knights on horseback in the midst of battle. The second showed knights and medieval-clothed ladies hawking. In between the tapestries hung a large banner of a swan against a scarlet field with Fortiter et Fideliter embroidered across the top.
“Have you ever noticed the ring Alex wears?” Emily asked Electra with her eyes on the banner. “It’s a ruby with an intaglio of a swan,” she said, not waiting for an answer.
“Shakira’s wedding ring is identical.”
“Shall we call it a coincidence?”
“I don’t know what to call it,” Electra answered honestly at the same time noting nothing modern in sight.
“I wonder what it’s Latin for?”
Simon saw their interest in the banner and heard Emily’s question. “It is the Guiscard family motto: Boldly and Faithfully. The Baron was a courageous man, as was his father before him.”
Richard continued to the head table. When he reached it, he laid the thick, leather-covered book he’d been carrying down on the table. He pulled out two chairs. “Please sit.”
A servant girl brought a tray with goblets and a flagon of wine. She began to pour for the men, but Simon thanked her and sent her away. He filled a goblet for Richard, then for himself, and took a deep swallow.
Richard had opened the book to a page he set off with a feather quill and the men discussed the issue.
The sisters sat next to each other. “This isn’t a facade. But, how can it be Elysian Fields? The castle is a ruin,” Emily whispered to Electra.
“How is it they know Shakira? How is it she knew the exact layout when she’d only walked the same grounds of the ruin we did? How is it they don’t know Alex but he has a ring like the Baron’s heraldic symbol?”
Emily ran a hand over the table, running an occasional fingernail into a groove. “I keep thinking if I try hard enough, I’ll wake up and find this a strange dream.”
Electra wished the same thing but in the back of her mind, with every unexplained element, feared she was totally awake.
“I have to go to the loo,” Electra told Richard.
“Loo?” He looked at Simon, who shrugged.
“You know, the bathroom.”
Now Richard shrugged and gave a shake of his head. “I don’t know what it is you’re asking.”
Patience was never one of Electra’s virtues and it was now growing nonexistent. “How about this? I have to pee. Do you know that?”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so from the start?” Richard asked in a pleasant tone. “I’ll have one of the servants show you to the garderobe.” He waved at a woman scrubbing a doorway floor. The woman’s face was flushed and she wiped at the sweat on her forehead and chin with her apron as she came. “Lizzie, take this lady to the garderobe and wait until she’s done. You’re to escort her straight back to the hall.”
“I need to go as well,” Emily piped up.
“Fine. Follow Lizzie.”
Lizzie eyed the sisters like they were vermin.
The red-faced Lizzie rushed along the corridor, turning every few seconds to look the sisters over again. Electra thought she mumbled a derogatory comment regarding them but couldn’t be sure and didn’t care.
On the way, Emily asked Electra in a low voice, “isn’t a garderobe a medieval toilet?”
Before Electra could answer the smell slapped her in the face. Her eyes burned with the acrid scent of urine. To her everlasting disgust, the hole in the wall that served as the toilet came into sight.
“Is that what I think it is?” Emily asked, looking horrified and co
vering her nose and mouth with her hand.
Electra nodded. “Yes.” She wondered how long she might hold off going to the bathroom. Could she hold it until they were set free? “This can’t be sanitary. It has to be a health code violation. Seriously, how authentic does whatever this is have to be?”
Lizzie stopped and jammed her hands on her hips. “Go on, then. Get done. I’ve chores to finish and no time to coddle the two of you.”
“Is there a screen or something to block the view from anyone walking in the corridor?” Emily asked, still looking horrified.
“Screen? What are you on about? No woman who dresses the shameful way the likes of you two do,” she said, wiggling her finger and pointing to Electra’s riding outfit and jodhpurs, “can have a shy bone in her body. Now hurry up, or I’ll have someone send for Sir Simon.”
Electra took as few short, shallow breaths as possible and approached the round cut-out in the stone. “Stand in front of me and block the view,” she told Emily as she unbuckled the belt on her riding jodhpurs.
Emily shielded Electra as best she could. “I take it you’re trying to convince us that you’ve never seen a woman in riding breeches before? Here, in the countryside, you want us to believe this is a new sight for you?”
“Riding breeches? Is that what you call this clothing? There was one other time. I didn’t see it myself, but I heard from the other servants that Lady Shakira arrived dressed the same as you.”
“Really?” Emily glanced over her shoulder at Electra, who mouthed—, “weird.”
“I don’t suppose you have toilet paper anywhere?” Electra asked, seeing no holder.
Lizzie frowned. “Do I have what?”
“Nevermind.” With disgust she stood and pulled her panties and breeches up, wiggling a bit at the damp feel. “Your turn.”
Emily gave a heavy sigh and said, “I’ve been debating if I should attempt to hold it. But, I best not. Neither Simon nor Richard act inclined to send us on our way anytime soon.”
“No. Which reminds me, what do you think you were playing at back there in the bailey with the sugary Sir Simon business? We talked about that not five minutes earlier. I told you to be careful and stop flirting.”
In Time for You Page 4
