Shades of Time kobo

by Sarah Woodbury

  And though Queen Lili denied it, she’d shanked her last shot to allow Constance to defeat her. She and Constance had been neck and neck up until then.

  Constance had told the king that if he had a mind to outfit an entire company of archers just like her, she knew women who could fill the posts. He hadn’t yet taken her up on her offer, but she had seen the interest in his eyes. Though since the birth of Alexander, Queen Lili hadn’t spent as much time shooting, her husband was fully supportive of her art. Constance had the feeling a seed had been planted that might soon bear fruit.

  For her part, she enjoyed the company of the men she worked with, and once they’d become accustomed to the idea of a woman in their midst, none objected to her presence. But she wouldn’t be sorry to be able to share this life with other women—and for others to have the same opportunities she’d been given.

  Being able to shoot when one was nervous or afraid was the entire purpose behind practicing so hard, but as Constance gazed at Beeston Castle ahead of them, she acknowledged that the fear she’d felt the day of the contest was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. That fear had been based on hope for a better future if she won. This was sheer dread, and she had to clench her hand into a fist to contain it. The battlements were bristling with soldiers, and she and the men with her were a paltry few by comparison.

  “I know I don’t need to tell you we must be careful,” her husband said from just beside her.

  “When am I not careful?”

  Cador snorted under his breath, and Constance grinned, easing some of the tightness in her chest.

  Along with Rhys and Mathew, they were pretending to be Venny’s retainers, while ostensibly he was here as a representative of his father, the Baron of Kinderton. They’d left their bows behind, thinking they would only call attention to themselves, and instead wore long knives at their waists—except for Mathew. He was acting as Venny’s captain, so he wore a sword.

  As Constance had suggested to Lord Ieuan, she was with them not for her prowess as an archer but because she was a woman. It went without saying that an armed company riding with a woman amongst them was less threatening than if they’d been five men. Constance always carried a dress in her saddle bag, though she’d never had cause to wear one before in the course of her duties.

  Venny turned in the saddle and surveyed his companions. “Remember, this is just a scouting mission. We want to determine if the company we followed is still here, and more importantly, if Princess Anna was ever among them. At worst, if she is here, and they are in the midst of plans for war, likely the guard won’t admit us.”

  “And we must be prepared, if he does admit us, not to be able to leave until morning,” Mathew said.

  Constance’s mouth was dry, and she glad she was surrounded by such stalwart friends. They trotted up the road to the castle, arriving at the gatehouse a quarter of an hour later. Beeston Castle was not only built on a high rock, it was protected by eight massive towers built into the curtain wall. Furthermore, if assailants made it past the gatehouse into the vast outer ward, they were prevented from reaching the inner ward and the keep by a great ditch cut into the rock that was traversable only by the wooden bridge that spanned it.

  Lord Mathonwy had instructed them to wait until dark to begin their approach to the castle, so it was nearing eight o’clock in the evening by now. The guards weren’t expecting visitors, though they hadn’t yet closed the gate, and the portcullis that allowed entrance into the castle was still raised.

  At their approach, a guard in a shiny helmet with a wide nosepiece stepped into the road just outside the gatehouse, effectively barring the way. Why a rider would be mad enough to run him down in an attempt to escape into the castle wasn’t clear, but his stance was probably intended to put the fear of God into any visitor. They were only five, however, and the guard rightfully didn’t view them as much of a threat.

  In response to the guard’s stance, Venny removed his helmet and introduced himself. “I am William Venables, heir to Kinderton. I come seeking shelter for the night.”

  The guard visibly hesitated. Constance would have thought someone would have prepared him with an answer for such an occasion, but he wasn’t ready with one. He did step back, however, and bow slightly at the waist. “I must speak to my captain. Please wait a moment.”

  Constance had been in this position before at other castles, and it was rare to be kept waiting on the doorstep and not admitted at least into the outer ward. Someone inside obviously thought so too, since a moment later the guard came hustling back. With another bow, he said, “Please enter. Someone will see to your horses.”

  They crossed under the gatehouse, thankful none of the portcullises dropped to trap them, and headed into the outer ward. It stretched the entire length of the mountain top, all the way to the bridge across the ditch seven hundred feet away. Lord Mathonwy had explained that a previous Earl of Chester had built this castle, and Constance could see why he’d chosen the spot. The real stronghold, the castle itself, was a fraction of the size protected by the curtain wall, and the whole arrangement bore a strong resemblance to Dover.

  The outer ward was so large, in fact, that the space could have housed an entire town. A dozen shops and huts, a guest hall, and a barracks clustered together along the eastern wall between the bridge and the outer gatehouse. Otherwise, the outer ward contained dozens of tents and campfires around which hundreds of men sat. At the sight of her small group coming through the gatehouse, several men at the nearest fire circle, which was fifty feet away, stood to look at them.

  Venny ignored them, as did Constance. Cador, however, lifted a hand to one of them and trotted his horse closer. In the night air, his words carried, “How goes it?”

  Nobody answered him.

  “Nice night,” Cador added.

  “Could be,” one of the men replied.

  Cador took his curtness as a signal to veer back towards his companions, who had directed their horses to walk towards the inner gatehouse. In an undertone, he said, “Not very friendly, are they?”

  “They don’t seem to be,” Venny said. “If I wasn’t suspicious already, I would be now.”

  The stables were a stone’s throw from the ditch, so it was reasonable to allow riders to cross the large space on horseback rather than having them walk it. Knights and men-at-arms didn’t walk if they could help it, as Cador had informed her when she’d first joined the company. By becoming a member of King David’s retinue, she didn’t walk much herself anymore either, which was a far cry from her past life as a farmer’s daughter. Horses meant for riding were expensive, war horses even more so, and most villagers never went more than five miles from home. When they did, they rode in a cart, not on horseback.

  Once they reached the bridge, Venny waved everyone off their horses and tossed his reins to a stable lad. Then he stood for a moment surveying the tents and fire circles scattered throughout the outer ward. Mathew stepped up beside him. “How many men do you count?”

  “Hundreds more than are needed to defend this castle.” He looked at Cador. “Could you tell from those brief words if the man you spoke to was Scottish?”

  “Not from his words, but his clothing was unfamiliar. Rather than a cloak, he wore a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, like Highlanders do.”

  “I don’t like this,” Venny said.

  “Are you rethinking our plan?” Mathew said. “It isn’t too late to leave.”

  “Yes, it is.” Venny strode across the drawbridge towards the inner gatehouse, and after a moment, the rest of them trailed after him. As at the outer gatehouse, the defenses of the castle remained down, and they encountered no resistance.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  19 March 2022

  Anna

  Everyone was preparing for bed, but while Anna was exhausted, she wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. After dinner, Chad had given them a more complete tour of his castle, which included an observatory of sorts on the t
op of one of the towers. Remembering the way he’d taken them, she found the right elevator and rode it to the top. She stepped out of the elevator, pleased it came out where she thought it would, but hesitated when she realized the tower wasn’t as empty as she’d hoped.

  Chad stood with his arms folded across his chest, looking at the stars above them. The night was cold enough that he hadn’t pressed the button to open the tower completely to the sky but was looking upwards through the transparent bubble. “If you were thinking of jumping off this tower, I’ll have you know I’ve locked the doors to the wall-walks.”

  “That wasn’t my intent,” Anna said, a little stiffly. “Are you here because I am? Did you see me leave my room?”

  Chad turned to look at her, and his expression told her that was exactly what had happened. “Why did you come up here if not for that?”

  “It seemed silly to waste any of my short time here asleep.”

  “You’re no good to me exhausted,” Chad said.

  “I wouldn’t have said I was any good to you at all.”

  “You’re doing it again.” Chad made a motion and somehow upped the light inside the bubble. The difference turned the bubble opaque so nobody outside could tell that the light was on inside. The top of the tower was decorated like an outdoor living room, though Anna was pretty sure the only rain that ever fell here was from the watering can of a gardener. It was one more futuristic piece of technology in an entire day of similar absurdities.

  “What is it you think I’m doing?” They were sparring with words, which hadn’t been Anna’s intent either.

  “Selling yourself short. Do you really think if your brother or mother were here either of them would be doing so much better?”

  Anna scoffed under her breath and made her way to one of the squishy chairs to sit. She wasn’t interested in a confrontation with Chad, and she felt as if one might be more easily avoided if she was sitting down. “No, that isn’t what’s happening either.”

  “Then what is happening? I really do want to know.”

  Anna gestured to a chair opposite, wanting Chad to sit so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him. “You must have read the reports of what happens when we come here, so you know David gets treated like a delinquent. He’s been locked up, interrogated, abducted, drugged, and alternately ignored and abused by anyone in authority who comes into contact with him. As has been the case today for me, his survival has depended on the kindness or position of others. In fact, it might even be that, because of who he is and how he thinks, if he were here instead of me, he might be doing quite a bit worse.”

  It was a truth she’d come to realize over the last few hours.

  She shook her head. “It’s never clearer to me than when we come here how power in Earth Two is personal, where here it’s faceless and nameless. That cop at Westminster was just some random guy doing his job, but he killed my horse and arrested me, even though he’s near the bottom of a very elaborate food chain. But it seems it’s a food chain there’s no avoiding.”

  Chad spoke gently, “Normally we consider our nameless bureaucracy an asset. We don’t have kings in America because personal power can be abused.”

  “I know! And I approve. But as we say to David whenever he complains about his burdens and talks about democracy, we’re against the monarchy except when it’s you.” She put out a hand to him. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, believe me, but the lessons to learn from Earth Two are ones either everyone already knows—like family is important or life is short—or aren’t lessons people in Avalon want to hear. And even if people did, who is going to believe we are who we say we are, even with your backing? We’d come off like a crazy cult.”

  Chad eased himself farther into his chair, and Anna felt like he was finally looking at her as a person, rather than as a time traveler only. “Thank you for speaking to me so frankly, but there has to be a way to make the transition from one world to the other easier. Earth Two exists. It isn’t magic! You’re in an alternate universe. We can science the hell out of it.”

  “Of all the things you’ve said, David would agree with that the most. But I have to wonder what would happen if we were believed. It’s why we were reluctant to work with MI-5 initially or with your company before you bought it: if traveling between worlds became easy, like beaming from one place to another in Star Trek, what would happen to Earth Two? What always happens when humans come across a place that is pristine?”

  Chad made a grumbling sound deep in his chest that made him sound a bit like Bevyn. “We destroy it.” But then he immediately brightened. “We do have national parks. The moon hasn’t been mined.”

  “It’s a miracle the national parks haven’t been strip mined yet—at least I assume they haven’t—and the only reason the moon hasn’t been mined is because the costs are prohibitive. Face it, if public opinion would allow private interests to buy the moon, someone would have sold it already. Except in rare cases, political power in Avalon is about enriching yourself and your friends.”

  Chad barked a humorless laugh. “So young and yet so cynical.”

  “You have to admit my experience with the government hasn’t been pleasant. For a brief moment, we thought MI-5 was going to come through for us—and then policies changed.” She paused, studying him.

  Chad eyed her. “What?” His expression had turned hopeful again.

  On one hand, there was so much here that had Anna out of her depth. The technology in Avalon was routinely mind-blowing to her, and she didn’t know anything about trust funds or royalties or contracts. On the other hand, she did know people. Anna was sure now that David would think agreeing to any of this was akin to selling out. He might argue—and she didn’t know that he’d be wrong to do so—that linking up with Chad might in the end be worse than MI-5.

  For all that David had hardened a bit about the edges, he still sometimes had trouble putting what was practical above what was necessary. She’d known him to be devious only once, when he’d prepared for William de Valence’s treachery. And even then, David had given Valence a chance to surrender. For her brother, it always came down to principle, and were David in her shoes, he’d have walked away hours ago, regardless of what terrifying agency was on his trail.

  But Anna wasn’t David. Although she didn’t know where right and wrong began and ended, she knew in this moment that it didn’t matter. This was the reason she, rather than her mother or David, had been put in this particular place at this particular time. Sometimes it was the job of the king’s sister to do what the king could not.

  So she met Chad’s gaze and took what he was offering. “Perhaps you’re right, Chad. It is long past time we approached this differently. It seems you really are the only one who can help us now.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  19 March 1294

  Constance

  Robert FitzWalter sat in his seat at the high table, surrounded by diners even at this late hour, and sneered down his nose at Venny and his small party. FitzWalter was not well pleased to see the heir to the barony of Kinderton in his hall—and Venny was just young enough and not quite noble enough for him to show it. If FitzWalter had known that the companion to Venny’s right was a commoner from London, or that Constance was an equal member of King David’s guard, he would have been even more disparaging. But Constance kept her mouth shut, as did the rest of Venny’s supposed retainers.

  Venny simply bent his head in greeting. “We are seeking shelter for the night, my lord.”

  To Constance’s horror and dismay, FitzWalter was not alone in his superiority. Humphrey de Bohun had a seat next to FitzWalter, and Henry Percy was two seats down from him, both gazing over their cups at the newcomers.

  “Sweet Mary, where will it end?” Cador whispered low in Constance’s ear.

  After Clare’s betrayal last year, David had examined the loyalties of every Marcher lord, and neither Henry Percy nor his grandfather had ever given any cause for doubt. O
n top of which, Henry was a sometime companion of Venny, though far more elevated in rank, both young men having been raised in the north and openly supportive of King David.

  Meanwhile, FitzWalter began to question Venny. “You’re hardly five miles from home. Why come here?”

  “We are heading home, not coming from it, and one of our horses went lame at the same time my servant here—” he gestured to Mathew, “—spiked a fever. I was hoping he could consult with your healer about what ails him.”

  FitzWalter narrowed his eyes at Venny, but the boy gazed at him with an innocent expression he’d probably spent years mastering. FitzWalter couldn’t have found anything suspicious in his face, and he had no cause to throw him out, so he finally nodded, accepting their presence and inviting Venny to join the high table. While his friends had no wish to be separated from him, that was an offer Venny could not refuse. Before he left them, he drew them a bit away from any listeners and lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Find the healer, as I said.”

  “We can’t leave you alone in here.” Mathew’s voice was urgent.

  “You have to. I will search the inner ward on my own.” He glanced towards the high table.

  “If this is because I’m a woman—” Constance started to say.

  Venny cut her off. “It isn’t. Lord Mathonwy needs to know that Bohun and Percy sit beside FitzWalter. The conspiracy is far more widespread than we’d hoped.”

  “It might even include Warenne, Henry’s grandfather,” Cador said.

  “I fear it,” Venny said. “Set up camp in the outer ward, and then as the night draws on, probe the defenses. Maybe there’s a way out for at least one of us.”

  “What if you aren’t allowed to join us?” Mathew said.

  “Then leave without me at first light.”

  Mathew pressed his lips together. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “If I don’t find you, you’ll know I’m a prisoner. Please—” he looked at each one of them in turn, “—do as I ask.”