They had to ford the Dee south of the castle’s village and then approach the castle from the west, since the Dee had been diverted to create a moat around the curtain wall. They trotted across the drawbridge and into the inner ward. Unlike most Norman bastions, Lyons had no second wall and outer bailey, so they were immediately thrown into the heart of the castle.
Warenne himself came out to greet them, which indicated how seriously he was taking their arrival. It was full dark by now, and the bailey was lit by two dozen torches, an extravagance that was perhaps for Math’s benefit rather than customary procedure.
“You honor my house with your presence, my lords.” Warenne bent his head.
Born within a year or two of Carew, Mortimer, and Clare, Warenne had been approaching forty when Wales had become independent from England. Nearly ten years on, age had set in, most notably in his gray hair, paunch, and receding hairline. This wasn’t a man who rode out with his men any longer.
And as his eyes flicked from Math to Ieuan and back again, Math read in them a certain wariness, the reason for which Math wasn’t entirely sure, other than having Dafydd’s two brothers-in-law within his keep.
“Have you dined this day?” Warenne said.
Math almost laughed. His last substantial meal had been the evening before. He’d been too sick to his stomach to eat anything at Dinas Bran and had managed a few bites of bread and cheese while riding. He realized now he was starving. “No, we have not.”
“All is prepared. This way.” Warenne himself led them up a flight of stairs and into his great hall, which was built against the curtain wall of the castle, the windows of which overlooked the River Dee to the east.
In the morning, the rising sun would shine through the windows and brighten the hall, but tonight it was lit with more torches and candles. Math and Ieuan followed Warenne to the high table. Now that it was dark and no daylight would be wasted by resting, many of his people were eating their evening meal. They rose in a wave of respect as the noblemen passed, a courtesy Math was pleased to see. In the past, many Norman lords on the border of Wales had ruled by fear, but Warenne didn’t appear to be one of them.
Math knew from Meg that in Avalon Warenne had been on the leading edge of King Edward’s war with Wales. Math believed her, which was why he’d continued to hold Warenne at arm’s length. Tonight, however, the bill of allegiance would come due.
With the meal set before him, Math didn’t waste any time in pleasantries and laid out what had transpired over the course of the day. “What did you know of this?”
Warenne had been listening with ashen face, and now he shook his head. “If I have been remiss, it is in not watching my neighbors closely enough. You must believe me!”
“The company of soldiers who tried to abduct Anna is not here, that is plain, and did not ride by today,” Math said. “We know now they’ve taken refuge at Beeston, and I have sent men to find their way inside and determine the truth. But again I ask, what do you know of this plot?”
“FitzWalter is not my friend.” Warenne’s chin firmed. “Whom did you send?”
“William Venables,” Math said. “He is of Kinderton, and FitzWalter should admit him.”
Warenne stood, clearly restless at the disturbing news. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I must confer briefly with the captain of my garrison. The threat is too serious not to have my men prepared and waiting in case an enemy turns in this direction.”
“Of course.” Math leaned back in his seat, his primary duty for the night done.
Once Warenne was gone, Ieuan and Math put their heads together. “We must send word to Dafydd,” Ieuan said. “He will be angry if he learns about Anna’s disappearance and rebellion in England from someone else.”
“I was hoping to wait.” Math looked around the hall. In the last few minutes, many of Warenne’s people had retired for the night. “May FitzWalter rot in hell for his role in this plot.”
“I truly cannot imagine what he was thinking,” Ieuan said. “He couldn’t have thought this would end well for him.”
“All men have delusions of their own grandeur,” Math said. “Some just reach higher than others.”
Eventually Warenne returned, followed by a servant with a fresh carafe of wine, with which he filled each man’s cup. Warenne accepted his and sat heavily at the table, looking even grayer than before. Ieuan leaned forward to speak past Math to Warenne. “What can you tell us of Balliol?”
“My daughter and I were never close.” Warenne put down his cup in order to spread his hands wide. “Her loyalties were to her husband, as they should have been. But at Christmastide, when I went to Edinburgh to see my grandson, I was not well pleased with the ambience. Something was afoot, but I could not discern what, though I was aware it involved Red Comyn.”
Math groaned internally. “Why did you not speak of this to me or King Dafydd?”
“Red Comyn is always plotting something, is he not? I did speak to Fulk, who was so roundly put down by the king last year, and he denied all knowledge or contact with Red. He was grateful to have been let off with his life and lands. He wanted nothing further to do with the Scots.”
“And what about you?” Math said.
Warenne pressed a finger to his temple as if his head ached him. “I understand why you might be at times distrustful of me, but if FitzWalter planned to abduct Princess Anna, he said nothing about it to me.” He looked directly at Math. “I can tell you something has changed in John Balliol in this last year or two. He is feeling his power—and believes England restricts it. He was not always this restless.”
“King Dafydd has not appreciated his delegations to King Philip of France or to the Pope, but as far as we knew, his machinations have never gone further than diplomacy.” Math took another sip of wine. It was rich and fruity, imported no doubt from Warenne’s relations in France.
“As far as I knew as well.”
“So then what is Balliol thinking?” Ieuan said. “If it is indeed he who’s behind it.”
Warenne shook his head. “I cannot tell you.”
Math took in a deep breath. “The question now, John, is what are you prepared to do about it?”
Resting his elbows on the table, the Norman lord clasped his hands before his lips and studied his hall over them. What Math wanted from him was not going to be easy, and his next words showed that he understood that.
“What are you asking? Do you want me to speak to FitzWalter?”
“I do.”
“And say what?”
“Find out if he has Anna, first and foremost,” Math said. “I am all but certain he does not, but until I see her face again, I cannot know. Then, at your discretion, speak to him of whatever course of action he intends to follow next. Imply you are in Balliol’s confidence. He should believe that.”
Warenne bobbed his head. “What if I were to offer FitzWalter my support?”
Math found himself astonished. “I would never ask that of you.”
“That’s why I’m offering.” Warenne leaned back in his seat. “I have no son to succeed me, no wife to comfort me, and all my children are dead. What do I have to lose?”
“You have grandchildren,” Math said.
For the first time, a smile crossed Warenne’s face. “Henry turns twenty-one in a few days. Before he left for Ireland, King David gave me permission to knight him.” He gave a deprecatory laugh. “His birthday is the only reason he didn’t go to Ireland with the king. Henry would have preferred to be knighted by the king’s hand rather than the hand of an old fool like me.” Then he frowned. “In fact, I expected him yesterday.”
Math was suddenly concerned. The Warennes and Percys together comprised two of the most powerful families in the north of England, holding many castles between Chester and York. “Have you sent riders to inquire for him?”
“He is preparing for his knighting. He pledged to spend three nights on his knees in the weeks before his birthday. I assumed he’d found
a church to do so in.”
“When is his birthday?” Ieuan asked.
“The twenty-fifth of March.”
Ieuan looked at Math. “Should we be worried something has happened to him? Or that he has joined FitzWalter himself—” he stopped at the way Warenne’s face turned utterly pale.
Math put out a hand to Ieuan, but his eyes were on Warenne. “Has he joined FitzWalter, John?”
But before Warenne could answer, Math found himself blinking rapidly at the way his vision had turned blurry. Ieuan crumpled forward onto the table, and Math managed to stay upright long enough to ask, “What have you done?”
“What I must,” Warenne replied.
Chapter Twenty-two
19 March 2022
Anna
Anna and Mark were alone in the expansive gardens outside the castle proper, though still inside the massive curtain wall which surrounded not only the hill on which the castle had been built but the fields around it. Probably there were guards posted along its length, but Anna didn’t feel threatened or held against her will. Uncle Ted was in the house, discussing business with Chad. Perhaps she should have been there, but she was too tired to worry about what they were saying.
Instead, she relaxed against the backrest of the bench upon which she and Mark were sitting. “You realize he’s out of his mind, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Mark looked at her. “You do travel back and forth to an alternate universe, do you not?”
Anna laughed and adjusted the sling, which was chafing the side of her neck, more comfortably so her shirt lay between her skin and the strap. “I suppose you have a point.”
“I stayed in Avalon—” Mark shook his head, “—I’m doing it too. I stayed here because I thought—assumed, really—having an ally in MI-5 would make a difference when one of you returned.”
“It has!” Anna said. “It did! For me and for Arthur and Gwenllian.”
“But like David always says whenever he comes here, one man can do only so much.” Mark sighed. “And that means if I am to have any kind of future, I must leave the castle.”
Anna’s hand went to her mouth. “You’re going to go to London?”
He nodded. “I must face them head on. I have a life here, a good one. Even were I to hide out on Earth Two for a couple of years, the moment I stepped foot in Avalon, I’d be on the run again. I don’t want to live like that. I don’t want my parents to live like that.” He pressed his lips together for a moment as he thought. “All those papers Livia read that allowed her to learn what was going on? I have copies too.”
“Is that how you kept your job? You threatened to expose them?”
“Oh no. They don’t know I have them.” He looked at her steadily. “I’m thinking I will give the key to the safety deposit box to Chad.”
Anna bit her lip. “Aren’t those documents classified?”
“They were, but if Five are going to throw me into a deep pit for rescuing you, I will expose them.”
Anna looked down at the ground. “So Chad really is my only hope at this point. Uncle Ted knows about Callum’s apartment, so I couldn’t go back there anyway.” She scuffed at the gravel that formed the garden’s walkway. “I don’t know what to make of my uncle.”
“Whatever he’s done, you know he’s trying to do the right thing and has what he believes to be your best interests at heart.”
“That’s the issue, isn’t it? What are our best interests?”
“That’s up to you.” Mark looked around the grounds of the castle. “Look, this place is a fortress. At the very least, if anyone comes for you—MI-5 or the CIA or some new organization we don’t yet know about—Chad can protect you. And you know Ted isn’t going to let anything happen to you.” He lifted his chin to point to the field below the castle, which she could just see from where she sat. A strange looking airplane with fat tires rested on the grass, though she saw no airstrip. “Chad has all the toys. He could probably take you to the moon if he had to.”
Then Mark stood. “Stay here, Anna. Have dinner with your family. You need to sleep and heal that wrist.” He gestured to a point behind Anna. “Your uncle is coming now.”
Anna turned to look. “Okay. Good luck.” His chin was set, so she didn’t try to talk him out of what he was planning.
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll be back later tonight. At the very least, I’ll ring. If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow morning, you’ll know it’s because I can’t contact you, and Chad will know what to do.”
“So will I,” Anna said. “I’ll climb up to the tower and jump off.”
Mark’s face paled a little, and Anna put out a hand to him. “It’s okay. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“We’ll see if I did you any favors.” He started down the path, stopped to speak briefly to Ted, and then continued on his way.
Ted kept coming. “Traffic has been atrocious, but Elisa and Elen are almost here. All of us will stay with you for as long as you’re in Avalon—and then go home with you when you’re ready.”
Even with that last remark, which Anna chose to ignore, she found herself more calm than before. “I’d like to spend some time with you when we aren’t running around madly evading government agencies.”
“Mark hopes to put that to rest.” He sat on the bench next to her where Mark had been sitting. “Are you mad at me?”
She sighed. “I was never mad, and I know you were doing what you thought was right. I love you for it.” She’d had to acknowledge that even she was having trouble figuring out a better way for Chad to have presented his ideas to her. He’d known he had limited time, and even with his company’s vast resources, Uncle Ted had been his only option, short of springing her himself from the hospital. He undoubtedly could have done that too, but her arrival may have been more of a surprise to him than it had been to Mark.
“Are you sorry I brought you here?”
“Could I be sorry about this?” She gestured to the beautiful grounds that surrounded them. It was the middle of March, but it had been a warm day, though with the sun disappearing behind the hills, she needed the coat around her shoulders.
“At the same time, Uncle Ted, I have to wonder if this is really going to work out. Chad seems too good to be true.”
“He isn’t. You have no idea what having you here means to him. For him, your presence here, the knowledge that not only is your traveling real but he can play a small part in it, is worth any cost. Like that ad says, it’s priceless.”
“That’s what he gets out of helping us? Knowledge that alternate universes exist?”
Ted laughed. “When you’re Chad Treadman, all you think about all day is the next great thing. He has a hundred irons in the fire. We’re talking about a guy who has a serious plan to land a manned ship on Jupiter’s moon, Europa, and the money to make it happen. All he needs is the technology.”
“So, my family is just one more cog in his machine?”
“No, Anna.” Ted shook his head emphatically. “You ask what he’s hoping to get from Earth Two? Knowledge. He wants to change the world and our perception of it. He wants to be a part of something great. On top of which, what Chad hates more than anything is being bored.”
“So he’s offering to help us for the entertainment value.”
Ted laughed again. “You could say that. But then, why not? Don’t sell him or yourself short. Besides which, you may have noticed governments are fickle.”
“Chad Treadman isn’t fickle?”
“Oh sure. But like I said in the conference room, what’s the worst thing that could happen if he lets you down?”
Anna raised a hand and dropped it. “He doesn’t answer the phone, and we go back to doing what we did before.”
“Exactly. With Chad, you really have nothing to lose.” Uncle Ted smiled gently. “And maybe a whole lot to gain.”
Chapter Twenty-three
19 March 1294
Cons
tance
The day Constance had joined David’s men as the only woman among them, her father, rather than turning his back on her as the priest had urged, had given her a brand new bow, one he’d apparently spent the last eight years making without her knowledge. I was saving it for the right time. I can’t think of a better time to give it to you than now.
Constance had been an only child, having lost her mother at her birth, and her father had never remarried. Perhaps if he’d had a son, he would have lavished his hopes on him, but he had only a daughter, and for that reason Constance had grown up learning to sew and cook and care for her father—and in his spare moments, he’d encouraged her to shoot. At the time, he’d treated it as the most normal thing in the world, and when some of the men had told them the archery butts were no place for a woman, he’d insisted she continue, and she’d gotten the better of them by outshooting them.
Nobody in her village had practiced harder than she, and when she’d won the archery contest at the King’s tournament last summer, it was the culmination of years of work. She’d cried tears of joy and relief, and her greatest happiness had been when she’d given her father the silver-tipped arrow she’d won. At the end, she’d even had the honor of standing between Queen Lili and Sir Morgan, King David’s chief archer, and shooting a final round, just the three of them. Though Constance had defeated all of the men in the contest, she’d been more nervous in that moment than the whole rest of the day.
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