Timestruck

by Speer, Flora

  When he finally drew back and she saw the light in his silvery-gray eyes, she began to tremble. To her horror she wanted him to kiss her again, this time with his arms around her and her body close to his. For a woman who had firmly and permanently rejected the idea of a man’s intimate embrace, the spark of desire that Dominick engendered in her soul was terrifying.

  “Who are you?” Dominick asked, his voice just above a whisper.

  “I told you this morning,” she said, attempting icy reserve and failing miserably, “I am Gina McCain.”

  “No,” he insisted, still using the same soft voice. “Except for the fact that you are an orphan and were unkindly treated during your youth, you have told me nothing important.”

  “My childhood may not be important to you,” she exclaimed, “but it is to me!”

  “You become evasive whenever I mention the reason why you are at Feldbruck,” he said. “Perhaps if I answer your questions, you will be willing to respond more fully to mine. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you serious?” she inquired.

  “Completely. Be forewarned, though. I will not reveal any secret I am sworn to keep, nor will I betray any oath I have taken. But I have nothing to hide.” He paused, folding his arms across his wide chest, watching her as if he expected her to do something wild and foolish. “I am waiting for your first question.”

  “Why were you ruled a bastard?” she asked, careful not to reveal who had been talking to her. She harbored a strong suspicion that, in spite of his kindness, Dominick didn’t trust her at all, and she didn’t want to get Hedwiga or Ella into trouble for gossiping with her. “What is this strange new rule the pope has proclaimed?”

  “There are few Franks who don’t know the answers to those questions.”

  “I am not a Frank. I’ve told you so several times already. Explain the new rule to me.”

  “It’s simple enough,” he said. “The rule has three parts. The Church has ordained that no marriage is legal unless it is blessed by a priest. Children born of marriages not so blessed are illegitimate. Bastards cannot inherit.” His voice was flat, betraying no emotion.

  “If they made a rule,” Gina said after a moment of thought, “it must mean there were a lot of unblessed marriages.”

  “That is so. It was the old Frankish way,” Dominick responded. “By tradition, the two families agreed to the marriage, the man and woman stated before witnesses that they wanted to live together, and there was a feast to celebrate the union. The next day the bride received her morgangabe.”

  “A morning gift, after the wedding night,” Gina translated the last word to be sure she understood it correctly.

  “Exactly. We called the arrangement friedelehe, and all Franks accepted it.”

  “Common-law marriage,” Gina said.

  “Frankish marriages were made that way for centuries, and no one saw the need for priests. Nor did we ever consider any child a bastard. The parents might err, they might choose not to marry at all, but the child was not to blame. All children inherited equally from their parents.”

  “Even girls?” Gina asked.

  “Of course.” He looked surprised by the question. “Why shouldn’t girls inherit?”

  “The more I learn about you Franks, the better I like you,” Gina said. “What you are telling me is, the clergymen in Rome saw a system that was working just fine, so they tried to fix it. Why? For money and power? I’m sure the priests receive gifts in return for bestowing these newly required marital blessings. And the power part of the deal is obvious: priests now have the final say about who marries whom.”

  “You have an interesting way of stating facts,” Dominick said with dry humor.

  “Am I right that your parents were married by the old friedelehe system?”

  “They were.”

  “Couldn’t they simply have had their marriage blessed to make it legal when the new rule went into effect?”

  “My mother died when I was still a baby,” Dominick said, “so there was no way to prevent the Church from ruling me illegitimate. My younger half brother is more fortunate. My father’s second wife, being deeply religious, insisted upon a priestly blessing before she would go to my father’s bed.”

  “I get it,” Gina interrupted. “Your father’s second marriage was acceptable under the new rule, and any children born to that marriage could inherit from his estate, but you couldn’t, even though at the time you were born, you were considered legitimate. Your status was changed when the rule went into effect.”

  “Just so.”

  “The Church should have included a grandfather clause. It’s grossly unfair to change the rules in the middle of the game.” Those bits of twentieth-century slang translated very differently, indeed, into Frankish. Dominick considered her outraged statement for a few minutes before nodding his agreement.

  “I am not the only person so treated. I have a friend -” He paused before continuing in a slightly different way, as if he had thought better of what he originally intended to say. “Many Franks, men and women both, resent the change. Children of powerful families were disinherited and there was no recourse. Still, Charles insists we must all abide by the Church’s order.”

  “But you showed ‘em,” Gina said. “You didn’t have to inherit what you have. You earned land and a title for yourself.” And, apparently, lost his overly scrupulous wife when the rules were changed.

  “So I did,” he agreed, smiling at her choice of words. “I showed them.”

  “What happens if you have children? Can they inherit from you?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said, “so long as I am married to their mother, and the marriage is properly blessed.”

  “What a crock!” She saw his incomprehension; then he laughed.

  Gina was fascinated to learn there were unjust laws in Francia, but for all her questioning, she still hadn’t uncovered any information that would show her how to return to her own time. In fact, everything she had learned since arriving in Francia was so un-technical that she was beginning to wonder if she would ever find her way back to the twentieth century.

  She had to discover the key that would send her back. She couldn’t stay in Francia. She didn’t want to stay there. But then Dominick smiled at her, and she recalled his kiss – and she was no longer so sure she wanted to leave.

  Chapter 5

  Hedwiga was determined to teach Gina how to sew. Gina didn’t think she’d ever learn the knack of it. Her stitches varied wildly in length, and seldom could she keep them in a straight line.

  “With perseverance you will improve,” Hedwiga said. “There is always so much mending to do that we are glad of even the simplest seam.”

  “I don’t see how anyone could be glad to wear this,” Gina responded, holding up the linen undershirt she was repairing for one of the men-at-arms. The original seam at one side was torn, and she wasn’t making a very good job of mending it. “I’ve sewn it crooked.”

  “Dominick says you will be staying at Feldbruck for some time,” Hedwiga informed her. “Use the opportunity to learn the skills you should have acquired when you were younger. You won’t regret it.”

  “Dominick told you I was staying?” Gina’s fingers went still with the bone needle caught in a thick fold of linen.

  “He said you will be here until he travels to court later in the summer. He will take you with him to Regensburg.”

  “How nice of him to tell me his plans for me,” Gina said so tartly that Hedwiga sent a reproving glance her way before returning to her own pile of sewing.

  On laundry days Gina helped Ella in the drying yard, and she worked in the kitchen, too. More than a hundred people lived at Feldbruck, and nearly all of them came to the hall for the midday meal, so there was always a lot of peeling and chopping to be done in preparation for the vegetable stews that were an important part of most meals. With her nimble fingers Gina soon mastered the technique of using a kitchen knife. She spent several hours each day cut
ting up cabbages, carrots, turnips, and parsnips.

  The actual cooking was another matter. Gina thought the open fires dangerous and shied away from them. Hedwiga scoffed at her fears, but, in a departure from her usual bossiness, she left Gina to peel and dice, or to make salads from the lettuces and other leafy greens, the herbs, and even the flowers that grew in the garden. Gina was surprised by how popular salads were and by how often fish from the stream or poultry from hunting served as the main course. In her imagination people in the Middle Ages spent every mealtime gnawing at huge beef bones or carving greasy slabs of pork from whole roasted pigs. The diet at Feldbruck was remarkably well-balanced.

  She was also surprised by Hedwiga’s insistence on kitchen cleanliness. After the preparations were completed for each midday meal, Hedwiga instructed Gina to scrub down the big chopping block in the middle of the kitchen so flies and maggots wouldn’t be attracted to it. When Gina was finished, Hedwiga checked to be sure the wood was cleaned to her satisfaction.

  Hedwiga kept track of personal hygiene, too, refusing to accept excuses about the chore of filling buckets at the pump outside the kitchen and then heating the water. Everyone at Feldbruck was expected to use the bathhouse at least once a week, and there was always a good supply of soft, homemade soap in wooden bowls, with plenty of dried herbs handy to scent the water. No one complained when Gina bathed more often.

  The days slid by peacefully. One week passed, and then a second. Gina could tell by the fit of her green dress that she was gaining weight. Oddly, it didn’t bother her. She was sure some of her new bulk was added muscle from all the manual labor she was doing.

  But she was no closer to learning how to return to New York, and that did bother her.

  She didn’t see Dominick as often as she would have liked. He was frequently gone all day with Arno, the two of them riding off to make sure the crops were doing well and, as Ella told Gina, resolving farmers’ complaints or judging disputes. Acting as judge was one of Dominick’s many duties, for, as lord of the district, he was Charles’s representative in legal matters. When Dominick was at home he was always busy, though as she learned one day, his activities weren’t entirely confined to administrative duties.

  In her eagerness to discover how to return to the twentieth century, Gina used every spare moment to explore Feldbruck in hope of finding a clue. Hedwiga didn’t seem to mind. She took Gina’s curiosity as a sign of her restoration to good health and readily answered all of her questions. And, as long as there were no chores waiting, she allowed Gina to wander about at will.

  On a sunny afternoon in the middle of her third week at Feldbruck, Gina finished in the laundry and left by the outside door. Directly in front of her on the other side of the drying yard stretched the orchard, where apple and pear trees grew. She was planning to locate a shady spot where she could sit and think out a strategy. She was beginning to fear that if she didn’t get back to New York soon, she’d never find the way.

  As she started for the orchard, she heard off to her left the clash of metal on metal, followed by men shouting. When she stopped to look in that direction, she saw sunlight flashing on a bright object. And she saw an unmistakable blond head.

  “Dominick!” Without a moment’s thought she ran toward him, increasing her pace as men continued to shout.

  At one end of the main building was an open area where the ground was hard-packed from many booted masculine feet trampling it. There, a dozen or so men-at-arms stood in a rough circle, leaving plenty of room for the two men in the middle, who were fighting with broadswords. Both were stripped to trousers and boots, and Gina could see the sweat glistening on Dominick’s shoulders and chest. He was breathing hard. Gina completely disregarded the other man; all she could see was Dominick and the danger he faced.

  “Stop it!” Gina tried to force her way through the ring of men, only to be caught by Harulf’s thick arm around her waist.

  “No,” he said. “Do not attempt to stop them.”

  “They’re going to kill each other!” she cried.

  “Since they are well matched, that is most unlikely,” Harulf responded with remarkable calm. “However, if you should distract them, one or both may be injured.” He looked hard at Gina before, as if explaining the obvious, he added, “You need not fear for Dominick’s sake. They are only practicing, and each man knows how to avoid harming the other. Didn’t you realize that?”

  “Do you mean to say they get out there regularly and whack at each other with those awful swords?”

  “Of course,” Harulf answered. “How else is a man to stay in shape for fighting real battles?”

  “It’s just a game?”

  “Today it is,” Harulf said. “Tomorrow, or next month, or next year, the king of the Franks may call upon Dominick to provide battle-worthy troops. We must all be ready. It is our duty.”

  “I understand,” she said, easing herself out of Harulf’s grasp. He let her go readily enough, though he kept such a watchful eye on her that she knew he’d grab her again if she tried to reach Dominick. “It’s just that those swords look so dangerous.”

  A cheer from the spectators caught Harulf’s attention. Gina went up on tiptoe to see what was happening. She didn’t know anything about fighting with broadswords, but after watching the action for a few minutes she began to notice that Dominick’s reach was longer than his opponents, and that he was very agile. Dominick was able to bend and stretch, to lunge forward or spin away on the ball of one foot, while the other man was stamping his feet and missing every time he swung his heavy blade. Then she heard Dominick talking to the man, giving him advice, and she suddenly realized why those in the circle around Dominick were paying such close attention to him.

  “It’s not a fight or a game!” she exclaimed. “It’s a lesson.”

  “Dominick is the best teacher there is,” Harulf responded, grinning at her. “He taught me most of what I know about sword fighting.”

  “I wish I knew enough to be able to tell just how brilliant he is.” She regarded Dominick with new respect, seeing his physical toughness and the determined set of his mouth. In a sudden onslaught of beautifully controlled muscular power that even Gina could appreciate, Dominick drove his opponent back, and back again, and finally to his knees, leaving no doubt about who was the victor. Then Dominick took the defeated man’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder and said something that left both of them laughing. The other men-at-arms cheered their approval before they broke up into smaller groups and began practicing with their own broadswords.

  “As you see,” Harulf said to Gina, “we all learn from such demonstrations.”

  “I do see,” Gina said. “Thank you for stopping me before I made a complete fool of myself and embarrassed Dominick.”

  “It was a natural mistake for a gently bred woman to make.” Harulf patted her shoulder and walked away to join his friends.

  Several buckets were lined up on a bench at one side of the practice area. Dominick went to the bench, laid down his sword, and dipped his hands into one of the buckets, scooping up water to splash over his head and chest.

  Gina followed him, pausing a couple of feet away from the bench. As if he knew she was waiting, Dominick turned. His hair was soaked, water streaming down his face and neck, and his eyelashes were stuck together with moisture. Seeing him look so oddly young, so boyish and vulnerable, totally different from the determined male who had been working out with a heavy broadsword, Gina felt a catch at her heart. She barely resisted the impulse to brush his hair out of his eyes and offer to dry his face and shoulders. She simply stood there, lips parted, staring at him, her fingers itching to touch him, while he stared back at her in tense silence for a long, breathless moment.

  “You should not be here,” he said roughly, breaking the spell between them. “The practice yard is no fit place for a woman.”

  She almost told him that, where she came from, women went wherever they pleased. She thought better of it just in
time and instead offered a polite excuse.

  “I was planning to take a walk in the orchard,” she said, “until I heard the shouting and came to investigate.”

  “Really?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Well, now you know how well I can use a sword.”

  “Correction: If I understood anything about sword fighting, I would know how good you are. Unfortunately, I’m too ignorant on the subject to offer a serious opinion.”

  “I do not consider you ignorant on any subject,” he said. With that, he picked up his sword and strode away.

  “Now, what did you mean by that?” Gina asked, glaring at his back. “Was it an insult or a compliment? I wish I could figure you out.”

  The conclusion she reached after thinking about it for a while was that Dominick didn’t trust her. Therefore, he wasn’t likely to provide any more information to her, even if she asked specific questions. If he was actually planning to take her to Regensburg as Hedwiga claimed, it was probably for the purpose of turning her over to the king. , Aside from the complications to her life that surely awaited her in Regensburg once it became clear that she didn’t have any credible reason for being in Francia, she didn’t want to leave Feldbruck. It was the place where she had arrived in the eighth century, and she believed it was the place from which she must depart when she returned to her own century; specifically, from Dominick’s bedchamber. With her bedroom only two doors away from his and no one else sleeping on the upper level of the house, she would be free after bedtime to examine Dominick’s room inch by inch if necessary, if only he were gone.

  She began to think of excuses to keep her at Feldbruck when Dominick went to court.

  “Can you ride?” he asked her the morning after she had observed his demonstration of swordplay. They were in the great hall, breaking the overnight fast with brown bread and cheese.