Most people love the smell of bacon and I’m no exception. Only I have a very keen sense of smell, and I knew I could smell it before anyone else. I also doubted that there were any pigs in that fire. The smell was emanating from the cooking of human flesh.
I ducked back under the hedgerow and trudged through the copse. Lights were bobbing in the darkness ahead, coming towards me. Evidently, villagers had seen the fire and were coming to investigate. I moved off the path into the adjacent pasture, keeping to the far side where I was less likely to be spotted.
I had kept the brown bag close to me, but the skull inside felt unwieldy. I had found the skull that I kept dreaming about. Clambering through the bracken of the woods, I made my way towards New Pond. The smooth waters reflected the moonlight. There was enough light for me to take a look at what was in the bag, yet not enough to outline and highlight me to anyone out here. It was doubtful that there would be anyone here this late, but then the whole evening had been strange. And with the fire at the farmhouse, people could come this way at any moment. There was some risk, but I could not help myself. I had to see it.
The ends of my fingers were frozen through, and I noticed that my palms looked darker than the rest. They must have been covered in soot. It took some time, but I untied the brown bag and lifted out the skull like a precious vase. Holding it close, I looked deep into the dark sockets, where once living eyes had been. It was like looking at the dark-side of two moons, the darkness within them darker than the empty space around. It’s hard to say how long we looked at each other, but on hearing a brief click and rustle from behind; I lobbed it into New Pond. The splash was louder than I would have hoped for.
I suspect the clicking sound came from nothing more than an owl or squirrel, but it was for the best. It was not as if I could keep it. I should have headed straight home, but I could not help but walk past Catherine’s house again, just as I had on my way to the farm.
There I saw her standing on her front step with her ma. I couldn’t see clearly in the dim light given off from the gas street lamp, but I imagined her rosy cheeks, kissable lips, and soft, pale skin.
‘What could be burning?’ I heard her say.
‘Looks like it could be Stan’s old place,’ replied her father, Dr Koestler, as he rushed past carrying his old Gladstone bag.
Keeping my head down, I stayed near an old elm tree and let him slip past, hoping he would not notice me. Had Stan ever been a real man, I wondered? As kids we would scare ourselves with tales about the farm being haunted by a wizened ghoul called Stan. We would stand in front of the house and call out that rhyme:
Stan the Draug! Keeper of the gates of hell,
Knit bone and flesh and sinew well,
Reveal thyself in form before me
For I shall serve and follow thee!
Arthur, Mac, George, and I would perform this little ritual, full of apparent bravado. Following this incantation, Stan himself was supposed to appear in a small window on an upper floor. I would always run away as soon as the words were uttered. The others stayed, but I was too scared to even ask them if anything happened.
Evan had jumped earlier and claimed that he’d seen some pale figure standing at that very window, but I suspect that one of my pals had put him up to it. Just to tease me, or to dissuade me from entering the farmhouse itself. I wish it had worked.
Hurrying away from that tree, I nearly cried out as a large hand grasped my shoulder.
‘What did you do with Henry?’ Arthur whispered.
‘Who?’
‘You know, the skull?’
‘I dunno what you mean, mate.’
‘Oh come on, I saw you pick it up!’
‘Good eyesight—but why would you call it Henry?’
‘Just seemed a good name for it, that’s all,’ he responded, letting go of my shoulder and disappearing back into the darkness.
Saumur, 1168
This morning would be the perfect antidote to the sinister events I had experienced only last night at Swanshurst Farm. Yesterday I had been Charlie, a few years older, bigger and stronger. Jumbled half memories of the night before came back to me, too vivid to be a dream, but not memories from this life. I had escaped a burning building whilst searching for a skull. A skull that had become immensely important to me. The unsettling feeling grew as the terrified faces of people I knew to be my friends in that life appeared in my mind, and anxiety swept over me as I remembered that Arthur had connected the skull I found to my brother, Henry. How could a friend in one life know of my brother in another, when they were separated by 743 years?
I ducked low as I shuffled past the central balustrade and then easily and silently past some dozing Saumur Castle guards. Whatever my friends and I had done last night, there could be no consequences here as I ran excitedly to free my brother.
Henry’s tutor was a dusty old man sent with him from England by our father. Knocking on the door, I entered and bowed my head respectfully.
‘Good morning, Robert,’ I said.
‘Indeed?’ he replied. ‘Her highness made no mention of you attending my classes.’ There was a note of suspicion in his wavering voice.
I glanced at Henry, who was maintaining a solemn face with difficulty.
‘These are my classes, remember, Lord Robert? You tutor me!’ my brother announced, standing. ‘And I invited Richard to free me from the horrors of Boethius and his wretched philosophy as soon as my mother was away.’
I had no idea about the horrors to which he referred, but I did enjoy watching Henry being so rude to his teacher. My big brother, protector and confidant. Unlike my mother, who disallowed me from a great many things. I was not allowed to pell train till I was twelve; I was not allowed to spend time with Yvette in case my betrothed—the silly girl, Alys—came to hear of it. The list seemed endless, but Henry had promised to help. I knew he longed to travel around the kingdom, but she had said it was too dangerous. Only last week they argued, and I heard him call her a witch.
Together we’d hatched a plan. My chambers were beside the main gate, and it could not be raised without waking me. So when my mother next rode off on duties, I would find Henry and we would escape and tour together.
‘Should I expect you back as the noon bells ring?’ asked Robert.
‘No, I shall be at Hodierna’s vineyard by then,’ Henry said over his shoulder.
Again we crept past sleeping guards and broke into a run as we escaped from the castle. The sun was just starting to emerge over the Anjou vales. I looked back at the castle one last time. Most of it was surrounded by wooden scaffolds, but the sun still reflected so brightly off those unshaded walls that it looked like it was etched in crystals.
‘Breakfast?’ I asked, pulling out the cakes from the pouch attached to my belt. (Not for the first time, I wished pockets had already been invented.) Henry took one and we munched as we ran.
‘So are we really stopping at Hodierna’s then, or was that a ruse to trick Robert?’ I asked.
‘I thought that would be a good place to rest.’
‘Yes, but he will tell mother!’
‘You let me worry about Robert,’ he replied as we slowed to a brisk walk along the sandy banks of the Loire.
I looked down as if humbled, and clenched my hands. I could not stop them from trembling and I didn’t want Henry to notice. It felt so good to escape, but I was concerned about how our mother would react and what was out here for us without our guards. I had wanted to travel east and cross the Alps, as had my Carthaginian hero, Hannibal, but Henry insisted we head north. I clasped those hands tight.
‘I was so brave last night. This other lad Evan just shook, but I head butted a man in the jaw and broke it. I heard it crack. Oh, and there was that skull that I’ve told you about before, remember? I dream of this ceremony where men drink from a skull.’
Henry patted my shoulder. ‘Are you talking about one of your fantasy lives again, brother?’
‘I know you don’t
believe me, Henry, but I’m too old now to make this up! I was Charlie and was being threatened by soldiers. They had weapons called rifles that use bang-powder and can blow your brains out.’ God how I wished he had seen me attack that soldier; he would have been so proud.
‘You sound ridiculous.’ There was no disguising his scorn.
‘Well last night Arthur called that skull “Henry”!’ I shot back. ‘Are you sure you don’t know an Arthur in another life? I must have mentioned him before, only...’
‘Oh you mean my translucent friend; King Arthur?’ He chortled, teasing me.
‘Perhaps I foretell a future where your head is used to drink wine.’ I stopped, instantly regretting what I had just let out.
His mouth was ajar. ‘What would Father Bryant say of all this, Richard? You should be careful whom you tell such stories to. They will call you “possessed” and name you a heretic—prince or not!’
‘When I’m older I can make you those rifles, and then you can be the most feared King of all time!’
Shaking his head, Henry lengthened his stride and went on ahead, crumbs still falling from his mouth, and leaving me no choice but to follow.
Walking along the riverbank, my mood cleared as I gazed into the azure blue waters of the Loire, glittering in the sunlight. It would take us a few hours to get to Hodierna’s on foot. I was happy to visit the vineyard where my beloved former wet nurse lived. Mother had given Hodierna the vineyard for her services, and she lived there now with her daughter, Yvette, who had been my playmate until recently. I had always wanted to marry Yvette in this life, but since I had told my mother this, she had stopped me seeing her.
Hours passed as pigeons cooed contentedly in the trees beside us and a young deer darted from behind a thicket into the woods, its white tail flashing. Henry stopped suddenly, causing me to walk into him.
‘Shh!’ he said, holding up his hand.
‘What?’ I whispered. I could hear nothing.
‘Quick.’ He grabbed me and pulled me behind some bulrushes at the water’s edge. Peering through the vegetation, we saw men on horseback approaching along the riverbank. They were well armed.
‘If they’re not Duchy Flies, who are they?’ I asked in a low voice, noticing my brother’s hand firmly around the hilt of his sword, ready to strike.
Henry didn’t answer, intent on the scene before us as the men stopped nearby. A ruddy-faced horseman took his bow and arrow and aimed it carefully at a tree, then let the arrow fly. A songbird fell to the ground, causing the birds around it to take flight in a cacophony of alarm calls and distress. My heart shrank within me.
‘Well aimed!’ called another approvingly, as a young boy was pushed off a horse and ran to get the prize. He pulled the arrow out and held the bird up to the first man, who promptly swung his sword and decapitated the boy.
‘Too small,’ he said as the lifeless body fell to its knees. ‘Not worth bagging, but thanks for your directions.’
My stomach lurched and I gasped, but Henry swiftly clasped his hand to my mouth to muffle any sound. We waited for the men to move on before coming out of our hiding place.
‘Who were they, Henry?’
‘They weren’t Duchy Flies, that is for sure,’ he replied, his face grim.
We nicknamed our mother’s men ‘Duchy Flies’ because they tended to follow us, supposedly for our own protection, but we found them annoying and joked of swatting them. How I longed for their protection now!
‘We should get back to the castle.’ Shaking more than ever, I clenched my hands tightly. I could not help but stare at the headless body of the boy.
‘I think that’s where they are going. It’s not safe there—Richard, I am so sorry.’
‘But why?’ I replied, confused.
He stood there, his eyes twitching.
‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘You need to keep moving north; keep following the river all the way to the Angers. I can’t explain why, just trust me.’
‘They were looking for us, weren’t they? I knew it! Tell me, Henry, what’s going on?’
‘I can’t explain everything; you are just too young, but they’ve come for me,’ he said, taking hold of my shoulders and looking down at me. ‘If those men come upon us, you must run. Do you understand?’
‘No, I won’t! Surely we should both run?’
He sighed and started walking with long strides, but I kept up. I had to stay beside him, whatever happened. Even as my mind raced, wondering what danger we were in, I could no more prise myself from following him than I could remove my own head. Twice he stopped and shouted at me, but I stood and waited for him to calm down. I only let a tear or two run down my cheeks when he was walking and he could not see. I had to be strong now, just as I had been for Evan when he was trembling on that roof at Swanshurst Farm. Henry needed me, even though he did not show it. Of that I was sure. Silently, he led the way on what turned into a path into the forest, accompanied by nothing more than birdsong and the sound of our footsteps.
The trees gave way to vines as the sweet smell of their grapes pervaded the warm summer air. As the stone vintner house came into view, we heard laughing and singing, and I saw Yvette and two other slightly older girls standing in a large wine vat. They were holding hands and pressing the grapes with their feet, as if in a dance. But most surprising of all was that they wore only their thin undergarments with their skirts raised above their knees. Seeing Yvette made my heart race, but those knights worried me more. I grabbed Henry’s arm, stopping him.
‘What are you doing?’ he snapped, whacking my hand away.
‘You told Robert we were coming here; those knights could be torturing him right now—we need to both keep moving!’ I pleaded.
Henry pushed me so hard in the chest that I lost my footing and fell back. He looked around and then leaned over me, his eyes open wide and red. ‘Why won’t you just piss off on your own then?’
‘Because I’m your brother!’ I pushed myself back up.
‘You’re just too scared to be alone!’ he said, walking towards the girls. ‘So be it, I’m hungry now.’
The girls stopped when they saw us and curtsied deeply. Yvette called, ‘Mother! My lords Henry and Richard are here!’
The door to the vintner house burst open and Hodierna came out, apron on, wreathed in smiles and arms open wide.
‘My lords!’ she cried. ‘Master Richard!’ She enveloped me in her embrace, pressing me hard to her. I responded happily, enjoying her solid warmth and the sense of safety and comfort that it gave me. Henry stood back somewhat haughtily, but she ignored him while she finished hugging me.
‘What can I fetch you, my lords? Bread and wine? Fruit? I have a lovely game pie! Yvette, girls: busy yourselves and bring food and drink for our guests. Let me set up the table for you here.’
We sat down gratefully.
‘Hodierna,’ I began carefully, ‘have you seen any strange men around here?’ Henry looked at me warningly, but I had spoken, and it was too late to stop now.
‘Strange men? Good heavens, Master Richard, there are plenty of strange men in these parts. What about old Gerard who won’t go nowhere without his old sheep, even shares his dinner with it?’ She laughed. ‘Or Franco, who insists there’s a water sprite lives down his well, and if he doesn’t sing to it every day it’ll pop up and do mischief around his farm?’
‘No, I mean men on horseback, men of importance. We saw some earlier but didn’t recognise them.’
‘It was nothing, Hodierna,’ Henry interrupted. ‘They were simply men on business. No doubt our mother is expecting them. They’ll be here to discuss tithes or trade or something of that sort.’
‘But surely they’d be seeing you about that, Henry, now that you’re Count?’ I said ingenuously.
‘Richard, stop seeing mystery where it doesn’t exist!’ Henry stamped his foot. ‘Whatever those men are here for, it’ll be something utterly mundane.’
Even I
knew that knights didn’t come fully armed, decapitating children as they arrived, only to trade! He had just been pleading and then shouting at me to head north, yet he was now sitting here waiting for pie like there was nothing wrong.
Hodierna gave us both a sharp look. ‘It is not my place, my lords, but where are your horses and your duchy guard?’
‘Oh, we’ve escaped for the day. We won’t stay long!’ Now I was lying too.
‘So who are these girls helping you with your winemaking, Hodierna?’ Henry asked, changing the topic.
‘Trinette and Simone, my Lord, from the village. I will speak no more of the guards, but know your mother would be worried.’
The girls brought food out and laid it in front of us, bidding us to eat. Henry helped himself to a large slab of game pie and bit into it greedily. I took cherries and peaches.
‘Come, Master Richard,’ Hodierna scolded as she popped a slice of pie into my bowl, ‘a growing boy like you needs meat!’
Reluctantly, I took a bite. My dislike of eating flesh had come to my father’s attention when I was six, and he had courtiers tie my feet together for a day, so I had to hop around as everyone laughed. He had goaded me that I would grow up to be a rabbit rather than a man. I tried not to think of the creature that had given up its life to feed me, or of the boy I had seen killed earlier. I didn’t see people as any different from any other animals and eating them felt wrong.
The three girls were standing quietly to one side. The two older ones appeared nervous, but Yvette seemed relaxed, smiling brightly at me. She looked beautiful in the sunshine, the dark braids of her hair catching the light and her green eyes full of humour and affection. I heard distant bells ring for noon and wondered about Robert and those knights.
‘Please,’ said Henry, ‘the girls need not stop their work on our account. Let them continue.’
‘If you are sure, my Lord.’ Hodierna waved to the girls to resume their places in the huge wooden vat. They climbed in with as much dignity as they could muster and solemnly started treading the grapes again, but with none of the songs or laughter of before. Finishing his pie, Henry wandered over to them and started chatting to Trinette. Her blonde curls were hanging so provocatively over her bosoms that it was hard not to stare. Soon Henry was removing his hose and climbing in with them. With no room for four in the vat, Yvette climbed out and came over to me, her legs stained purple with grape juice.
Paralysis Paradox (Time Travel Through Past Lives Adventure Series Book 1) Page 2
