“I don’t see how being sweet-voiced is a bad thing. Your hard-nosed tone and attitude hasn’t gotten us anywhere.”
Electra couldn’t deny she was right. She nudged Emily who stared into the dark hole with a forlorn expression. “Go on, get it over with.”
Lizzie led them back to the Great Hall when they finished. Simon and Richard were sitting, sipping their wine and still talking about what was in Richard’s book.
“Sit down,” Simon told them without looking up. “Are you thirsty?”
Electra looked to Emily who shrugged and then nodded. “Yes.”
Richard reached over and plucked two goblets that hadn’t been there before from the tray and poured them a wine each. He slid the goblets over to Simon who looked up then and slid them to the sisters.
“Thank you,” Electra said.
When the two men finished talking, Richard closed his book and both men turned to the sisters. “You present us with a difficult problem,” Richard said. “Quite simply, we’re not sure what to do with you. Simon doesn’t believe you’re spies and frankly, neither do I. You claim to be from Greenland, a place I know nothing of, but you assert your knowledge of our laws, which is odd for one who is allegedly a stranger to England.”
Not sure where that conclusion was leading, Electra ventured, “If you know we’re not spies, then there’s no point in keeping us here. What does it matter where we’re from? Just let us go.”
“It matters because we are at war. You may not be spies. You may not be French. But we are still no closer to knowing what your business is here,” Simon told them.
“I don’t know what else to tell you other than what I’ve already explained. As you can see from our clothes, we were out riding, we were separated from the person we came with and walked to the home of our sister. When we got to where her house should’ve been, it was gone and a farmer’s home stood in its place.”
“Bring us a bible and we will swear upon it, if that makes you feel more certain of what we’re saying,” Emily added. “We’re in the same boat as you. We don’t have a clue what is at work here. I’m beyond caring what social experiment this is or which reality program. I just want to go home.”
“Until we learn your true purpose, you’ll be staying as a guest of the Baron.” Richard yelled for Lizzie to have the chamber maid come downstairs.
Electra hid her panic and gave him a weak smile. If she and Emily could make them think they were willing to cooperate with his orders, then they might let their guard down. The minute the opportunity presented itself, she and Emily would escape.
“I’ll station a man at your door all night,” Simon said. “As a precaution should you foolishly think of escaping.”
Just our luck to get snatched by a bloody mind reader. Electra thought she’d kept a poker face at the news they’d stay the night.
A maid led them up a spiral staircase lit with torches. The exterior wall was lined with arrow loop windows. In real medieval times, the windows provided archers a view of the bailey if the castle were under siege.
The stone staircase troubled Electra. These steps also had wear depressions as though well used. She’d come to the conclusion everything was part of a reality show. Because she couldn’t see cameras or sound equipment just meant they were expertly hidden. But why would producers of a television show recreate a castle when they could shoot on location at an existing castle? Every explanation she came up with triggered more questions.
They climbed another flight of stairs to the top floor. In olden days this was the family’s quarters. The maid stopped in front of a large oak door and pushed it open. “Sir Simon said to tell you the evening meal is right after sunset. One of the kitchen servants will bring you a pitcher of water for your wash basin. He said to bring you ale or wine if you requested. Do you?”
Electra could use a bucket of wine right now, but thought it best to keep her wits about her. She shook her head and the maid left, closing the door behind her.
Emily had gone over to the chamber’s large bed. Heavy dark blue velvet curtains were tied back to the four posts. She untied them and pulled them along a rod. The curtains served to enclose the bed, which was also covered in a patchwork spread of blue and red velvet. She sat expecting the soft give of the mattress to be similar to hers at home. She was wrong. The mattress had something springy in it but it was far from a soft bed.
She pulled the spread back to investigate and gave the mattress a feel. “I thought this might be down but it’s filled with straw. Ick.” She pulled the corner of the mattress up. “No wonder. Underneath is a plank with no padding, not like a box spring at all.”
A wooden table was pushed against one wall along with one chair. In the corner sat a wood chest with an iron padlock securing the contents.
“I wonder what’s in here?” Electra asked, tugging on the lock.
There was a knock at the door and another woman dressed in a servant’s simple garb came inside without waiting for permission to enter. “Sir Simon said for me to unlock this chest. It holds Lady Shakira’s belongings and he said you might find something suitable to wear for dinner. If not, I’ll rustle up some dresses from a village woman.”
What a horrible alternative. Electra shuddered at the thought of putting on a borrowed dress from a village woman. The way her luck was going, it would be the woman who called them witches and stunk like a billy goat. If the Shakira they were referring to was Alex’s wife, then her clothes would fit enough to wear. They’d be tight in the bodice for Electra and too long for Emily but useable.
“What did Lady Shakira look like?” Electra asked as the maid unlocked the chest.
“She was a tall one, taller than any other woman here. She had hair black as night, thick and arrow straight. It gave Myrna, her lady’s maid, fits.”
Electra and Emily exchanged a puzzled look. The servant had described Alex’s wife.
“Can’t be,” Electra mouthed, knowing she was wrong. When Simon mentioned the Baron’s wife was named Shakira, Electra wanted to believe it was a coincidence, however unlikely. In spite of mounting evidence to the contrary, she chose to grasp at that straw.
The woman pulled two floor-length gowns from the chest and gave them a hard shake and then laid them out onto the bed. “Here you go. Underthings are in there as well.” She looked askance at the sisters. “Ladies do wear proper underthings where you’re from, do they not?”
“They do. You can go. We’ll dress ourselves,” Electra said.
“Well you should. I’m no lady’s maid.” The servant spun around and practically stomped out, shutting the door behind her.
Emily had picked up a deep green velvet dress with a cream silk cutout panel in the skirt. The long sleeves came to a point and were worn tight to the arm. “These are beautiful.” She laid that one down and picked up another. This was bronze velvet with a high neck embellished with a beaded collar and cuffs. “Let’s see what else is in the chest.”
She and Electra dug through and pulled three more dresses from the chest, all jewel tones, a sapphire blue, a scarlet, and a bright yellow. All were stunning with silk embroidered details or delicate lacework. They had to be a costume designer’s fantasy collection.
Emily got on her knees and kept emptying the contents of the chest. “You’re not going to believe what’s on the bottom.”
Electra dropped down next to her and peered inside the chest but didn’t see anything more out of the ordinary than everything else. “What?”
Emily reached inside, grabbed something and then turned her hand over, revealing a wristwatch in her palm. Electra knew the distinctive model with the black face and gold dot at the twelve o’clock point. It was from the Movado Museum collection. “Shakira wears one just like it.”
“I know. That’s not all that’s in here.” She reached inside again and moved a folded gown aside so Electra could see. “So are her riding clothes.”
Electra took out a jacket, cotton shirt with SC monogra
mmed on the cuff, (Shakira’s maiden name was Constantine), jodhpurs, and black field boots. There was no doubt now about whether or not Alex’s Shakira was here at some point. If there’d been just riding clothes maybe, but it was the combination of everything that was too much to discount as coincidence. She sat back on her heels and stared at the riding gear, trying to come up with a reasonable, logical connection between the gowns and the riding clothes. The more they learned about Shakira and this place, the more questions arose.
“Back at the farm when you asked me if I thought it possible that we’ve gone back in time, I said no.” Electra turned to Emily. “I don’t want to believe I was wrong, but I have to wonder.”
“We need to get to the highway to Gloucester. Whoever is behind this, the one thing they can’t make disappear is the dual carriageway to town.” Electra stood and went to the door, cracking it open to check the corridor. Simon had said he planned to station a guard at their chamber door, but the corridor was empty. Maybe he forgot or maybe he thought they only needed to be watched at night. Whatever his reason, this might be their best opportunity to escape.
“Look out the window,” she told Emily. When Emily did, Electra asked, “How busy is the courtyard?”
“’Bout the same as when we arrived. Why? What do you have in mind?”
Electra shut the door. “We’re getting out of here. The corridor is empty. This is our chance. I’m sure this place has arrow windows all around. I’m going to check on the other side to see how busy the back is. If the activity is concentrated out front, I’m gambling the rear isn’t busy.”
“Too bad the stables aren’t out back. We might be able to snatch a horse.”
“We’d be caught in an instant. Stable boys and knights are in and out of there all the time. Sneaking out on foot is our only shot.”
“We won’t have much time before they come after us. If the coast is clear enough to make a break for it, do you think we stand a chance of really escaping where they won’t find us?”
Not so deep down, Electra thought the odds slim but they had to try. They had to find a familiar face away from here. “They’ll expect us to run until we’re a safe distance and then double back and head to where we were caught. Simon will take a party of knights and spread out. He knows we can’t get too far on foot.”
“It sounds like you don’t think we have a chance of escaping to safety, so why are we trying this?”
“When Shakira explained the original layout of the grounds she said if facing the castle, the chapel and small family cemetery was to the left. The gardens were behind the castle, just outside the kitchen. We won’t take off on a run like they expect. We’ll hide in the cemetery. After dark, while the cooks and helpers are busy with the evening meal, we’ll head to the cliff and down to the river.”
“We have to double back sometime,” Emily said and joined her at the door.
“True, but once we’re by the river we’ll have more cover as we move along the base of the cliffs. When we’ve gone far enough away, we’ll climb up and head home.”
Electra opened the door a crack, saw no one, and then opened it all the way.
When she stepped out, Emily took her place in the doorway. “I’ll keep watch,” Emily said. “If anyone comes down the corridor, I’ll start coughing. You’ll have to find a hiding place. What will you say if you are caught?”
“Well, we’re not exactly prisoners. I mean, if they thought us dangerous, we’d be in a dungeon. I’ll simply say I was curious about the grounds and wanted to see stuff other than the bailey.”
Electra walked at a normal pace until she came to the corridor on the other side of the castle. The passage was not as well lit. Where the other passage had sunlight in addition to torches, this one only had torches. The windows she expected to find right away weren’t there. She saw a square of outside light ahead a couple of dozen yards and hurried toward it. She’d almost reached it when Harold, the knight she rode to the castle with opened a chamber door. He was in the process of adjusting his baldric so the sword lay flat against his thigh. Behind him a pretty blonde in servant’s garb straightened her clothing.
Electra froze.
The maid looked at Electra with wide eyes and laid her hand on the knight’s arm. “Who is she?” the blonde asked in a soft voice.
“She’s one of the women we brought to the castle today.”
Electra forced a smile and started to walk backward. “Hello Harold, didn’t mean to disturb. Just thought to take a gander out these windows.”
“Stop right there,” Harold ordered. “Go get Simon,” he told the blonde.
The blonde took a fistful of skirt in each hand and scurried down the corridor to the staircase. Minutes later, she returned with a stern-faced Simon. Harold hadn’t spoken a word to her the entire time.
“Is there a reason why you’re wandering the corridor?” Simon asked.
“Like I told Harold, I only wanted to have a look around,” Electra explained.
“Where’s Emily?”
“In our chamber.”
Simon glanced from the blonde to Harold, smirked and then dismissed the blonde. “Let’s see if she’s where you say she is,” he said, taking Electra by the arm. “Come with us,” he told Harold.
The knight walked far enough ahead that he rounded the corner of the corridor on their chamber’s side of the castle first. Emily’s fake coughing fit began but suddenly stopped when Electra and Simon came into view.
“Coughing? Really? That was your warning signal if you saw someone?” Simon asked Emily. She opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand to stop her. “Don’t bother to lie. I know it was and it’s the oldest, most obvious warning in the world. I’m disappointed in your lack of imagination, milady,” he said, directing the comment to Emily.
He let of Electra’s arm. “Get changed, both of you. The evening meal will be served shortly. Harold will escort you to the hall.” Without taking his eyes from the sisters who stood together, he ordered Harold, “Don’t leave their door until then.”
Chapter Five
Gloucester
Date: 1357
Electra chose the bronze dress and Emily the hunter green. They fit the way Electra thought they would. The bodice of the bronze was tight on her and Emily’s green one dragged on the ground more than it would’ve on the taller Shakira. Both dresses smelled vaguely of the cedar lining used in the chest. It wasn’t unpleasant but Electra inexplicably expected anything of Shakira’s to have a perfume scent. Every time she’d seen the woman, she wore an expensive perfume.
Electra dug through the chest looking, hoping for a brush. She didn’t need a mirror to know her hair looked like squirrel tails. Tufts sticking out tickled her cheeks and chin. Emily’s was messy as well. She found a bone comb and they each redid their hair into a single braid. She opened the door and stepped out, dreading what questions they’d face at dinner.
Harold didn’t say a word. He clamped a firm hand on the arm of each sister and walked them down the corridor at a quick pace.
“What will be expected of us at dinner?” Electra was forming simple and easy to remember answers to potential questions.
“I’ve no idea what Richard or Simon expect, but I wish for you to be quiet. Your nonsensical jabber on the trip here sufficiently tested my patience.”
She didn’t care what he thought. She had no fondness for the knight but didn’t feel what little talking she’d done amounted to nonsensical jabber. “I was just making polite conversation. You really are a jerk.”
“I don’t know what a jerk is—” He leaned closer to her face. “And I don’t care. Be quiet now.”
****
When they reached the Great Hall the tables and chairs had been laid out in a u-shape. Richard and Simon were seated at the head table. While some knights and ladies stood, most had taken seats at the nearest tables.
Harold left the sisters at Richard and Simon’s table and joined several other knights seate
d at the first table to Simon’s right. He’d barely sat when two women took places on either side of him.
“Emily, you sit here.” Simon indicated the spot next to him. “Electra, you can sit on the other side of Emily.”
A servant poured them wine with a strong spicy fragrance. Electra had tried spiced wine at the home of a friend during the holidays. It was too sweet for her tastes but from the look of it, that was all they were serving here and like the saying goes: when in Rome....
She sipped a small amount of the red wine. It tasted of several spices that married into a pleasant blend, none overpowering. Most were spices she often used in her culinary class like ginger, cinnamon, pepper, and cardamom. The wine was also sweetened with sugar. The addition of sugar made it an interesting combination she’d never tried but would, when or if she ever got home. She’d try it in a dessert rather than wine. She still thought the combo made the wine too sweet.
Another servant girl brought baskets of bread and pewter plates of colorless butter. The bread smelled delicious with a warm, yeasty scent only fresh baked bread has. For a fleeting moment, very fleeting, Electra considered not eating to protest their captivity. But she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was ravenous. She broke off a hunk of bread and popped a piece in her mouth. After all, she could voice her objection just as well.
“Here, use my knife if you wish butter,” Richard said and handed her his knife.
She brushed the blade with her thumb, careful not to cut herself. The blade was narrow and sharp and set into a carved bone handle. “This isn’t intended as an everyday weapon, is it? It’s rather elegant for that.”
“No, I don’t carry a weapon. I don’t really need to as the household steward. I rarely leave the castle grounds and when I do, I am surrounded by our well-trained knights. That’s an eating knife.”
“Harold certainly seems popular with the ladies. He’s got one on each side and two behind him all vying for his attention,” Electra said as another servant set down bowls of porridge and scrambled eggs with wooden spoons inside. A second servant followed with platters of roast pork and pureed peas.
In Time for You Page 5
