by Renee Duke
“She might still qualify,” Paige said. “Seventeen’s not all that old. It might be possible. If Bess took the bracelet into Sanctuary with her…”
“She did,” Dickon said excitedly. “I remember her wearing it there. That means a connection might indeed be possible. Let us try it now—at once.”
“We can’t,” said Dane. “We have to wait until our parents get back. As soon as they do, we’ll get them to take all of us to Westminster Abbey. We’ll have to explain you two somehow but—”
“That’s easy. We can pretend they’re friends we made while staying with Grantie,” said Paige. “It’s the trip to London, and all the things they’ll see on the way that might cause problems.” She gave Dickon an uncertain look. “If you thought the vacuum cleaner was scary, a car or train is going to be a lot worse because they make even more noise. And they move—with you inside them.”
Dickon gulped. “I am willing to endure almost anything if, by doing so, Ned and I can be returned to where we belong.”
“As am I, brother,” said Ned, giving him a nod of approval. “However fearsome the journey, ’tis the destination that is important.”
“You’ll find cars and trains and things in my book of inventions,” said Jack, pulling it out of the bag. “You can read about them while we’re upstairs having tea. It’s just about time,” he added, looking at his watch.
“Tea,” said Ned with a sigh. “I shall certainly miss that if our return is successful.”
“We’ll bring you down a thermos full,” promised Paige. “In the meantime, there’s food in this cooler here, Just don’t eat the blue thing. It’s poisonous.”
A few minutes later, they went upstairs.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been down in the cellar again,” said Mrs. Purdom, who was in the kitchen setting cakes upon a plate. “I can’t imagine what you find to do down there. What happened to that boy? I didn’t see him go out.”
“Oh? Well, he did,” Dane said as she handed him the plate to take to Grantie Etta in the sitting room. “He’s…uh…staying somewhere nearby.”
Once they had seated themselves on the floor in front of her chair and started in on the cakes, Grantie Etta also inquired about Dickon.
“He’s okay,” said Paige. “We took him to his brother. He’s looking after him.”
“And is he able to look after him?” Grantie Etta inquired, giving them a penetrating look. “Or do they both require help?”
Dane found the seriousness of her tone disturbing. He recalled her reaction to Jack’s dream the night before. It seemed to go beyond concern for a little boy having a nightmare. Did she know? Did she know what the medallion could do? And, knowing, realize something had gone wrong? A glance at Paige and Jack told him they shared his thoughts. And his unwillingness to voice them.
“We’re going to sort everything out for them,” he said nervously.
“Can you?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Good.” She continued to gaze at them thoughtfully. “Your parents will be back the day after tomorrow. You might want to do this sorting out you speak of before that happens.”
“We kind of need a car,” Paige said after a moment.
“I have a car.”
“But we have to go to London,” Jack blurted out. “Mummy said we couldn’t ask you to take us there.”
“For all she knows, a trip to London might have been one of the activities I was planning for the entertainment of my young guests.”
“You’d have told her,” said Dane. “We’ll get into trouble.”
Grantie Etta regarded him sternly. “Some troubles are bigger than others.”
She definitely knows, Dane thought with an inward groan. But he was not eager to confirm his suspicions by asking her.
“A trip to London would be very nice,” said Paige.
“Splendid. You can be off first thing tomorrow. Reg will take you anywhere you ask. I won’t be going myself. I’ve been to London many a time, and I dare say you can think of some little friends who’d get more out of such an excursion.”
The chimes of an ice cream truck saved them from having to make a reply. Grantie Etta gave Paige some money and told them they could get whatever they wanted. “If you think you’ll have room for ices after all the cakes you’ve scoffed,” she said, her eyes twinkling.
They bought five chocolate covered ice cream bars and took them down to the cellar, along with the promised thermos of tea. The princes loved them.
“’Tis delights such as this that makes staying in your time seem almost desirable,” said Ned. “But we are still eager to return to our own.”
“That’s good because we can go to London tomorrow,” Paige said.
Dane could see this news both excited and frightened the princes. “It’ll be okay,” he assured them. “We’ll be with you all the way.”
Chapter Nineteen
The next morning, they went back to Jack’s house to change into their costumes. They also picked up his medieval coins, which they thought might still prove useful.
“So you really are going to parade around London in that get-up,” Mr. Dexter said as Paige slid into the front seat beside him and the boys climbed in the back. “Miss Wolverton said you and some mates were doing a summer project for school. Is that right, young Jack?”
“Yes,” Jack replied. “We need photos for it. Ed and Dick should be at Rosebank by now.” Almost as an afterthought he said, “You saw Dick the other day, Mr. Dexter. He went to Rosebank to show me his costume and got a bit upset when I wasn’t there. He’s like that. So’s his brother. They might even be a bit nervous riding in the roller. They’ve never been in one before.”
“Expect they’ll like it, though,” said Mr. Dexter. “Let’s go fetch them.”
Mr. Dexter was surprised to find that Jack’s mates were nowhere in sight when they got back to Rosebank. “Where are they, then?” he asked. “We’ll have to get going if you’re to make a day of it.”
Dane jumped out of the car. “Jack told them to meet us round the back. I’ll go get them.”
To his relief, Mrs. Purdom was not in the kitchen. He could hear her talking to Grantie Etta in the sitting room, and wondered if Grantie had called her in there to give the princes free access to the back door. They looked pale and nervous when he brought them up from the cellar but were determined to do whatever they had to do to return to their own time.
The princes settled into the back of the car without a word and only flinched slightly when Mr. Dexter started the engine. Jack had brought a spare set of wrist bands for Ned, so the car’s motion did not give him any trouble on the way to London. It was all the other vehicles tearing along the motorway that caused both him and Dickon to grip the edge of their seats so hard that their knuckles turned white.
It was not until they were told they were swerving through the streets of what had once been the heart of old London that either of the princes spoke.
“It cannot be so,” Dickon whispered, staring out of the window in confusion. “There be almost naught I recognize.”
“A lot of the places you knew were destroyed in the Great Fire of London,” Jack whispered back. “They weren’t all rebuilt. And those that were don’t look the same.”
“A Roman or Viking would have found our London just as unrecognizable, brother,” Ned said comfortingly. “I trust Westminster Abbey is still intact?” he added.
Jack nodded. “Yes. I’m a Horse Ranger, and whenever we’re in London for a parade or something, we go to a service at the little church just beside it. I’ve explored the whole area. The old sanctuary building’s gone, but a time transfer from the abbey should take us quite close to your mother and sisters.”
“They will not be in the sanctuary building with felons and other rough folk,” said Dickon, shocked. “The abbot gave us rooms in his own dwelling. The laws of sanctuary apply there also.”
“Well, as long as they’re somewhere near the abbey we should be able to find
them,” said Dane.
Assuming the transfer works, he thought. He wondered how the princes would react if it didn’t.
Once Mr. Dexter found a place to park, the children accompanied him to Westminster Abbey on foot, the princes eyeing all their fellow pedestrians warily.
“Whoa, that’s big!” said Paige, looking across the street to the British Houses of Parliament.
“And much changed from our day,” said Dickon. “But I like the clock.”
Ned made no comment. His attention was focussed on Mr. Dexter, who was handing over the sum required to gain them admission to Westminster Abbey.
After a moment he said, “Am I to understand that payment is now demanded of those entering the abbey?”
“It is if all they want to do is look around,” said Jack. “It costs a lot to keep up places like this. People going in for services don’t have to pay anything.”
“I should think not,” an outraged Ned retorted as Mr. Dexter beckoned them inside.
Slipping away from him, they went in search of a secluded place in which to make a time transfer. As at the Tower, fellow visitors seemed only mildly curious about their costumes, but the number of people exploring the abbey made transferring difficult. Every nook and cranny appeared to be occupied, and the way tourists were moving around, talking and pointing, did not please the princes.
“Do these sacrilegious wretches not realize they are in God’s house?” a frowning Ned asked.
“Our ways are different,” Dane reminded him. “Even people who aren’t religious are being respectful by our standards. If they aren’t, they’ll get thrown out.”
Neither of the princes seemed to think this a severe enough penalty. Dane decided he didn’t want to know what would be. Medieval justice had been quite brutal.
A few minutes later, they managed to find a tourist-free spot and were able to make their time transfer. The half dozen or so people who happened to be at prayer when they materialized were intent on their devotions and paid no attention to them.
Crossing themselves, Ned and Dickon knelt to offer up prayers of their own before following the others out of the abbey.
Outside, it appeared to be mid-afternoon. It was a dull day, and the nip in the air made them all shiver. Everyone they saw was well wrapped up and moving about the abbey grounds with quiet reverence. The princes found the sight comforting.
“All is now as it should be here,” Ned said in a prim tone as they walked toward the abbot’s house. “’Tis for prayer and contemplation that you visit a holy place. ’Tis not something to be gawked at.”
“And were you not gawking at the coronation which took place here three days back, youngling?” asked a passing priest.
He stopped and gave them an indulgent smile, but they could only stare at him in confusion. Whose coronation was he referring to? Dane wondered. Richard the Third’s had already taken place the last time they had been in the fifteenth century. Had the medallion somehow taken them to a point in time occurring before the one they had left from? It had never done so before. Of course, its workings had never been entirely predictable, and they were now homing in on a different Keeper Piece.
While his mind was working through the different possibilities, he heard Jack say, “We are newly arrived in London, good priest. We did not attend the coronation. Was it very splendid?”
“Indeed, it was. Far more lavish than that of his Majesty. But the people have been waiting a long time to see the queen crowned. ’Twas only fitting that the occasion be marked with all due pomp and ceremony.”
Majesty. According to Cousin Ophelia, that had been a Tudor term. Which meant they hadn’t gone too far back; they had gone too far forward. They were in Tudor times, and the coronation that had just taken place had been that of the princes’ sister, Elizabeth of York. Though quick to take his own crown, Henry the Seventh had kept his wife waiting almost two years for hers. His thoughts in turmoil, Dane listened to the priest’s account of the coronation and its accompanying festivities.
“Where is the queen now?” he asked, when the man was finally through.
“At Greenwich, with the king, and their royal son. She does not like to leave little Prince Arthur to the care of others. He is over a year old now, and she knows she will not have him to herself for much longer.” He gave them another smile and went on his way.
“Where’s Greenwich?” Paige asked after a moment.
“Along the river a ways,” said Jack. “And beyond what I expected the medallion’s transfer radius to be. I don’t know if I’m ever going to sort out how it works. I suppose the safest thing to assume is that it’s always going to take us to the time and place it wants. What we want doesn’t enter into it.”
“Well, we sure didn’t want to be in Tudor times,” Paige said with a scowl. “And I can’t think of any reason for the medallion to want it either.”
“Unless it’s safer for the princes,” said Dane.
“Safer? Henry the Seventh’s already tried for them once, and he wasn’t even king then. He’s hardly going to ignore them now. I scanned that book of Grantie’s. The Tudors hunted down every Yorkist heir there was. Any that Henry the Seventh happened to miss, his son, Henry the Eighth, axed during his reign.”
“Their fate shall not be ours,” said Ned. “We know what the future holds for those of our blood. This forward shift in time simply means that we will have to take up the humble lives I spoke of somewhat earlier than we anticipated. ’Tis the thought of leaving London without letting our mother and sisters know we are alive and well that most distresses me. But ’tis not possible to inform them,” he added sadly. “We know not where they are.”
“We know where Bess is,” said Dickon. “Could we not visit her? A barge would take us to Greenwich.”
“Greenwich? Are you nuts? Bess isn’t the only one at Greenwich,” said Paige. “Henry the Seventh’s there too.”
“’Tis likely he will be about state affairs at this time of day,” said Ned thoughtfully. “I know we must not call attention to ourselves, but if we were to meet with Bess in secret, we could at least set her mind at rest concerning our disappearance.”
“It’s not worth the risk,” Paige told him.
“’Tis well worth the risk. Nay, do not be concerned,” Ned said, as Dane and Jack also started to protest. “You do not have to come with us. I am grateful to you for saving us. I also appreciate your willingness to render further service, but ’tis we who must now determine the course of our lives. Having brought us back to what would seem to be as close to the time we lived in as possible, you must now return to your own.”
“Oh, must we? Suppose you’re caught, and that somehow changes history? We could end up in a world we don’t even recognize,” said Paige. “If you’re going, we’re going.”
The two glared at each other. “I will not permit it,” said Ned.
“Is that so? Well, you’ll have to,” said Paige. “You guys aren’t pampered princes anymore. You don’t have access to a private royal barge. If you want to get to Greenwich, you’ll have to go on a public one. That takes money. Which we have, and you don’t.” She jangled the coins in her purse triumphantly.
Dickon laughed. “Give it up, brother. You have no more chance of changing her mind than you would Cecey’s. And you know how well you would fare at that.”
They took a barge to Greenwich Palace and stood outside it for a time, studying its security.
“This Tudor would seem to require more guards than our father ever did,” Dickon remarked. “’Twill make the game of getting inside without being noticed all the more interesting. Follow me.”
He led them in through an elaborate route of back stairs and little used corridors. Even though the consequences for sneaking into Greenwich were likely to be far more serious than the ones for sneaking out of Ludlow, he carried out the task with the same look of devilment in his eyes.
The others felt far less blasé, but despite the tension, Dane could n
ot help admiring the little prince’s proficiency. He hurried to catch him up.
“Smooth operation,” he said with a grin. “I take it you’ve been in and out of here like this before.”
“Oh, aye, many a time. Eluding guards and over watchful attendants is merry sport.”
When they got to the queen’s chambers, a curtain hid them from the view of the queen. She was sitting on a long cushioned bench with her baby and a young woman the princes identified as their next sister, Cecily. The queen was holding the Keeper bracelet in front of the baby and laughing as he grabbed at it.
“You like this bauble don’t you, my sweet?”
“A gift unsuited to his age,” Cecily said disapprovingly.
“He must have something in honour of my coronation,” the queen replied. “’Tis likely I will be the last true Plantagenet ever crowned. When he is old enough to wear it, its roses may remind him of his kinship with the House of York. In the meantime, it makes a merry toy. ’Tis too big for him to swallow, and it rolls, albeit a little bumpily. See?”
She placed it on the floor to demonstrate.
“So that’s why we’ve connected to this time,” Paige whispered to the others. “Bess was too old for us to make the connection we wanted. The Keeper Piece belongs to the baby now. We’ve connected with him.”
The queen had obviously been blessed with good hearing. She immediately turned in their direction. “Who stands without whispering in that manner? Come forward at once,” she commanded imperiously.
Before any of the others could stop them, Ned and Dickon stepped out from behind the curtain. With a gasp of horror, Bess leapt up, clutching Prince Arthur to her. Equally shaken, Cecily also drew back.
“’Tis the ghosts of Ned and Dickon,” the queen gasped. “I knew their spirits could not be at rest.”
Chapter Twenty
“They’re not ghosts,” Dane said as he, Paige, and Jack hurriedly stepped out beside the princes. “Neither are we. We’re flesh and blood, all of us. See?” He moved forward quickly and touched her arm.
