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The Golden City: A Medieval Time Travel Romance (Eternity Rings Book 2)

Page 13

by Paige Elwood


  “Maybe I should have learned to read,” Agata grinned when they had left the room and were alone again in the corridor, nodding to the fat fabric pouch in Sarah’s hand. She lifted her own, small brown one. It looked comically small next to Sarah’s.

  “Stop it!” Sarah said. “You're making me feel bad now.”

  “Don’t feel bad. Feel rich!”

  “I don't even know what to spend it on!” Sarah laughed. All her meals were provided, board was included with her position, and she had no need of anything. Well, nothing that was available in this time, anyway. If the coins in her hand could have bought her some fiction books, or a laptop to work on she’d have been all over it. What was there to even buy?

  Agata snorted. “How about some clothes of your own and some proper shoes?” She reached out and lifted Sarah’s skirt slightly to expose the sneakers.

  “Stop it!” Sarah shrieked, yanking the material away from her.

  Agata raised an eyebrow. “Don't think we haven't noticed your strange shoes, they were the talk of the maids this week.”

  Sarah groaned. “I thought you couldn't see them underneath this dress.”

  “You can see them when you walk sometimes. Besides, don't underestimate how much the maids here see. We see everything!” She waggled her eyebrows.

  “Then I suppose new shoes are my first priority,” Sarah said. “Not that I know where to get them from in the town.”

  “Lucky for you,” Agata said, “I’d be happy to help you spend your money. It’s my afternoon off.”

  “Then let’s go shopping,” Sarah beamed, throwing the pouch in the air and catching it again. It occurred to her that she’d never left the castle grounds. It would be nice to see a little more of medieval life, from the perspective of ‘normal’ people!

  Chapter 17

  The narrow, winding streets from the castle to the town square were intimidating even in the daylight. The cobbles were uneven beneath her feet, and the streets felt almost claustrophobic. She wouldn’t like to walk them at night, and there was a pervading smell of urine.

  That was forgotten when they opened up onto the town square, and suddenly she was mesmerized. The square was full of people and animals, all weaving their way through the crowds. A group of young children tore through the center, chasing each other and giggling, gathering hard stares and tutting from the adults. Market traders shouted about their wares above the hubbub, and the whole place smelled like donkeys, straw, and unwashed people. Sarah wrinkled her nose.

  Around the edges of the square were small shops: blacksmiths, bakers, tailors, and a cobbler. People streamed in and out of them. Women with baskets over their arm left the bakers with freshly baked bread. The tailor was visible through his window, measuring a man for new clothes, and the heat that came out as they passed the blacksmith was almost unbearable. How did the poor man work in there, she wondered?

  Agata took her to the cobbler first, a large and airy shop that smelled strongly of leather. The swarthy young man that greeted them measured and cut the leather there and then for her feet. Sarah’s cheeks flushed when she removed the sneakers she was wearing. She must look so strange. Back home these were the latest in running shoes. The cobbler eyed them curiously, his dark eyes flitting to them occasionally as he worked, but he didn’t say anything, and Sarah was grateful.

  “Come back in the morning,” he said, slapping the pre-cut leather down on the counter, “and they’ll be stitched and ready for you.”

  Sarah smiled, dropping the coins Agata picked out for her to pay with into his outstretched palm. This was worse than being on vacation in a strange country. She had no idea of the currency, or how much anything was supposed to cost.

  It occurred to her that she should probably be saving as much of this money as she could for when the Prince and Princess no longer needed a tutor. But she did need some suitable shoes, and perhaps another dress that was a little less… fancy. And she might have found a way to return by then. Living in the castle was nice, and she was enjoying this simpler way of life, but without the comforts of the castle? That might be a different experience altogether.

  The tailor had some ready-made dresses, and he simply added a stich or two and adjusted the hem to make it fit her. She picked a plain wine-colored dress in a soft material. It was dowdy compared to the Queen’s gowns that she had been wearing, but would make sure she fit in a little better with other workers at the castle.

  Agata chattered all the way through her impromptu dress fitting, telling her about the crazy woman they found wandering the grounds last night. “She was saying she was the tutor,” Agata said. “Can you imagine if they’d believed her, or if she had arrived first? What would you have done?”

  “I have no idea,” Sarah said. Guilt knotted her stomach again, and she sucked in a breath to try to regain her equilibrium. She was pleased when Agata changed the subject and began talking of the Princess again.

  “What is she like to teach?” Agata said.

  “She’s like anybody else. She listens to the lessons and asks some questions, which I answer.” She liked Agata, but she didn’t want to get drawn into saying anything that could come back and bite her later. She changed the subject swiftly. “If you like, I could teach you to read?”

  Agata shook her head. “Thank you, but I don’t have any use for reading.”

  “Everyone has use for reading,” Sarah said. “All that knowledge you would have if you could read books!”

  “What would I do with it?” Agata said. “I’m not a high-born lady, I’ll never be as much as a ladies’ maid. Book reading won’t do me any favors. Thank you, Sarah. It’s a kind offer but it would be a waste of my time, and yours.”

  “Well, if you change your mind the offer still stands.” Sarah said.

  A cart filled with hot pies was being wheeled past, and Sarah stopped the young boy pushing the cart, ignoring the dirt crusted under his fingernails. Modern hygiene standards were no use here, she’d never be able to eat anything.

  “Let me buy you something to eat instead!” she insisted. They each chose a pie and found a small spot with a short wall in the corner of the square to sit on while they ate their food.

  The pie was delicious, filled with beef in a rich gravy, and Sarah licked the last flakes of buttery pastry from her fingers as she watched the townsfolk go by. It struck her how many of them knew each other and greeted each other as they passed. There was a community feel to the square that she liked immensely. The astronomical clock stood proudly, watching over all of the shoppers, and it seemed strange to be seeing a clock again after being without one for so long. According to this one, it was almost 2pm.

  “Come on,” Agata said, when they’d finished eating. “Let me show you more of the city.”

  Sarah followed her. They crossed the Vltava on the Charles Bridge, the stone thicker and newer than she remembered it. It felt strange seeing the familiar body of water, but without all of the tourists and buildings that surrounded it in her time. This river seemed more peaceful.

  They passed the Strahov monastery, and it struck Sarah how much bigger everything seemed in this time. With no skyscrapers and modern architecture, the buildings dominated the landscape. It was as beautiful as she remembered it, although not open to visitors.

  “This is where my cousin works,” Agata said, pointing out a three-story building next to a tavern.

  “What does she do there?” Sarah asked.

  Agata snorted. “She’s what you might call a lady of the night.”

  Sarah frowned. A vampire? She knew many of the vampire legends came from Eastern Europe, but was Agata seriously claiming that her cousin was a vampire? “What do you mean?”

  “You’re so naïve,” Agata laughed. “She has… relations with men for money.”

  “Oh!” Sarah blushed, embarrassed that she hadn’t understood. “Is that legal?”

  “It’s not against the laws of the land. The church considers her an unredeemable sinn
er, but it puts bread on the table and she makes more money than I do.” Agata shrugged. “When you don’t have a husband, you do what you can to make your living.”

  Sarah glanced up at the building, eyes wide. You’d never have known that the well-kept building hid such goings-on inside! Part of her was repulsed by the idea of it, but she knew from her own studies that jobs for women could be hard to come by, and this wasn’t an uncommon option. Unease stirred in her stomach as she remembered that her job at the castle was temporary, and if she couldn’t get home then her own future was very uncertain.

  They walked through the warrens of streets, her new dress rolled up under her arm and her stomach pleasingly full of pie. She forgot her worries for a while as Agata showed her the sights of medieval Prague. She saw the field where young Agata would play as a child, filled now with several running, giggling children barefoot and happy in the long grass. Watching them made her want to slip her own shoes off and run, feeling the lush green grass between her toes.

  She saw the Old New Synagogue, and the grand Stone Bell House, all brighter and fresher than they were in her time, and eventually they were on the way back to the castle. She’d enjoyed the walk and Agata’s company, but she was pleased to be getting back.

  She had the rest of the afternoon and early evening to herself now to walk the courtyard, maybe explore the castle a little more, and to read and plan tomorrow’s lesson. The pace of life was slower here, and she was beginning to enjoy that.

  Chapter 18

  Max shifted in the high-backed chair that was the Prince’s seat for formal occasions in the Throne Room. The Princess sat perfectly still by his side, her hands folded on her lap and her delicate chin tilted up as she witnessed the procession of Lords to the dais. She was the perfect royal. Imperial, aloof, beautiful. Max wondered what she would have been like as a commoner. He imagined she’d be chasing after the Lord of her lands or a high-born man to be wed to.

  The room was filled with all the nobility from the kingdom. Max always found it tedious to entertain so many of them. Far too many names to remember, and none of them ever had anything interesting to say. At best they would try to pluck a morsel of royal gossip from a conversation, but mostly they would simper and cozy up to Max or his father, with the hope of landing a prestigious court position.

  Max had no time for the political games they played, although he recognized that his fate once he was king would be to suffer it frequently. Max’s idea of politics was loftier, more Socratic, than these pomp and ceremony events. Regardless, he would have to maintain these traditions if only to keep the lords on his side in case of an attack or an attempted coup. The nobility lived for these events, a reaffirmation of their status as ‘more’ than the common folk in the marketplace outside the castle walls.

  His mind turned to his lessons, and an idea they’d picked out as one to explore further: the ruler’s job is to act not for his own benefit, but for the benefit of the citizens of the political community. Were these ceremonies for the benefit of all of the citizens? It was an interesting quandary.

  Perhaps, if the Lords would keep their oaths in a time of true crisis, the benefits to all the citizens were obvious. Yet, Max suspected less than half of the fat, sweating Lords in attendance would keep their oaths when faced with a real threat like an invasion of King Benak’s forces. In fact, he could pick out half a dozen that he was certain would seek to capitalize on it, and who would offer up whatever the evil King wanted in return for an increase in their own social status under the new rule.

  Perhaps his own position as a Prince made it harder for him to understand their motives. He had a clear path to the highest position in the Kingdom. He’d felt the burden of the responsibility of that, but never the bite of ambition to achieve a higher status.

  Each Lord knelt in turn before the King, who was resplendent in his burgundy cloak and ceremonial crown. The Lords recited their oath, and the King offered them the back of his hand to kiss. There were 37 Lords, and each oath was at least five minutes. It was always a long and tedious event, made bearable only by the feasting and dancing that would occur later.

  The Lord currently knelt in front of his father was Lord Novak. He was one of the oldest Lords in the land and remained largely unchanged since Max’s childhood. He had thinning jet black hair that clung closely to his pale skull, the scalp shining through in stripes where the hair couldn’t cover it. Combined with a long nose, hooked at the end, and sharp, beady black eyes, he’d always reminded Max of a vulture.

  He’d found him terrifying as a child, which probably had a lot to do with his nanny, the same nanny who had given him the rings. She had once told him a story about how a vulture carried away a young Prince from his castle, and only a brave Princess from a distant land was able to save him from the vulture’s clutches. The Prince and Princess were married and lived out their lives in a peaceful kingdom.

  He looked across at Katherine again, concentrating completely on the ceremony and seemingly engrossed in the proceedings. He tried to imagine her riding into battle to save him, but unless her disdainful looks could defeat an enemy, he suspected she wouldn’t make a very good savior.

  The more time he spent with Katherine, the less hopeful he became that love would blossom between them. She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, and the tiny rubies in her ring glinted in the light.

  The seemingly never-ending procession of Lords finally came to an end, and they all took their seats for the feast. Servants swarmed through the room, pouring drinks and placing down platters of hot roasted meats, baskets of freshly baked fluffy bread, and platters of creamy cheese.

  Max filled his plate with food, his stomach growling after a long day of lessons and royal duties. The threads of several conversations drifted in the surrounding air, and Max picked up the flow of one in particular.

  “… robberies.”

  “You’d think the King would do something. All these guards in the castle, we’re sending our own men for training in the King’s army, but a man can’t leave his own lands in the evening for fear of being attacked!”

  “Surely he is doing something. What else are all the men being trained for?”

  “I haven’t seen one of these criminals being hung, or even in stocks in the square!”

  “Have you spoken to the King about it?”

  “What’s the point? I’ll just look like a troublemaker, and before you know it, I’ll be separated from my head.”

  Max bristled. His father was stern, but he was just. Max knew that he’d never ordered anybody beheaded in his entire rule. But this situation was going to boil over if they weren’t careful. He would have to speak to his father again. Perhaps if he told him of his plans for new weaponry that would reduce the number of men that needed training? No, they weren’t tested yet. He would wait.

  “Could you pass the bread, please?” Katherine’s voice startled him out of his reverie.

  “Hmm?” He said, absently.

  “The bread,” she nodded towards the basket of steaming bread to his left. He handed it over.

  “Thank you.” She plucked a piece from the top and added it to her plate.

  The feast continued, but Max’s brain was working at full speed now. What if he could also invent something to protect the villages from the bandits? He had a few days before they were due to test the Onager, and so he had some spare time, in theory.

  Perhaps he could discuss it with Sarah? Her specialty was arts, not science or engineering, but she was clearly very logical, and he trusted her opinion. He would try to pose the question in their next lesson.

  By the time the feast was finished, half the Lords were merry from the ale and the wine that was flowing freely. Max sipped at the cool water in his own goblet. He preferred to keep a clear head, disliking the fuzziness that descended after a few goblets of ale or wine.

  The servants cleared the plates, carrying a ton of leftover food into the kitchen, and the musicians struck up
a jaunty tune. At least half of the Lords and Ladies took to the dancefloor to dance to the tune. Max became aware of Princess Katherine’s foot tapping in time to the music next to him. He stood, offering his hand.

  “Would you like to dance, my lady?” he asked, bowing low and kissing the back of her hand. The Princess hesitated, and he wondered why she wavered when she clearly wanted to dance.

  “Will you turn me down?” he placed a hand over his heart as though he might be wounded if she refused and a small smile turned her lips upwards. It was a beautiful smile, and the only genuine one Max had seen since she arrived.

  “Of course not. I would love to dance,” she said, taking his hand.

  They spun around the dance floor, and Max had to admit it was fun. The princess seemed to be enjoying herself too, and he caught a hint of a true smile on her lips once or twice. She had been tutored well in dancing, as had he, and they were both confident and sure of their steps. Each move they made was perfectly in time, and several onlookers cheered them on.

  After a few songs, they retired to their seats, breathless and a little warm. “You dance very well,” Katherine said to him.

  “Thank you. As do you, my lady,” he said. She gave him one more smile before excusing herself to retire to her room. Max watched her leave the room, her head held high and her two ladies’ maids following behind her.

  After a short time, he made his own excuses to his parents and left, hoping to salvage some of the evening to work on his inventions. But the castle was swarming with additional people because of the festivities, and so he retired to his bedchamber instead.

  The long day had made him sleepy, and he slipped into dreaming quickly, almost as soon as he lay down his head. His dreams were filled with dancing, his hands around the waist of his dancing partner. They moved together, not just in time, but as though they were made to dance with each other. The steps weren’t just accurate, they were almost magically perfect. He smiled and laughed as he whirled and spun his dancing partner, her blonde hair trailing behind her.

 

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