by Ken Johns
“I’ll do it if you want me to.” He reached for the crossbow.
“Hell, no.” Mila pulled it back. “I’ve got it.”
“Okay.” John took a deep breath. “You get ready and wait for my go. Tell me when you’re ready. Once you shoot, you duck and reload, then get ready again. Clear?”
“Clear.” Mila loaded the crossbow. She slowly brought it up to her shoulder as she sat back on her heels. She aimed at the lead knight. “Ready.”
“Reginald!” John shouted from the shadows. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Reginald’s yell traveled back across the field.
“Heretic!” Edward interrupted. “Pay no attention to the baron. Today, you deal with me.”
So the balance of power had shifted. Mila wondered what had brought that about.
“If you stop where you are,” said John, “you can still leave with the silver.”
Edward laughed. “I have no interest in your silver.” He continued to advance behind the walking knights, but Reginald held up a hand, and he and Henri stopped their horses, letting Edward advance alone.
“Go,” John whispered.
Mila squeezed the release. The bolt leapt across the meadow and punched a hole in the lead knight’s cuirass. The knight went down clutching the bolt.
“Hold,” Edward said.
The knights stopped. Edward glanced behind him at Reginald. They were too far away to hear their conversation, but it was clear that Reginald was distancing himself from whatever Edward had in mind.
Mila finished reloading and shouldered her weapon. “Ready.”
“Go.”
Mila let fly.
Another knight grabbed his stomach and fell to the ground.
“Coward!” Edward shook a gauntlet-covered fist. “Stop shooting the noblemen.”
“Nice job,” John whispered.
Edward and Reginald had a heated exchange.
“Ready,” Mila whispered.
“Go.”
Another knight fell.
The two remaining knights charged up the hill toward them. Edward dropped his faceplate and spurred his horse. The giant animal passed the running knights and raced up the hill alone.
“Will you shoot the horse?” John glanced at Mila.
“Not a chance.” She finished reloading.
“Didn’t think so. Take out those other two knights as fast as you can. I’ll take the bishop.”
At a full gallop, Edward tipped his sword forward. The mighty warhorse thundered toward them. John crawled to the right, away from Mila. He stood slowly and stepped into the sun.
Mila popped up and shot another knight. His companion got a return shot off in her direction. The bolt sliced off the bottom of her earlobe as it sailed past her head. It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. Weird. She ducked and reloaded while her blood ran down her neck.
John held his sword with two hands like a bat as the bishop’s horse galloped toward him.
Richard charged out of the forest. He had the battle-ax held high as he took up a position next to John. Edward reined in the horse and almost toppled forward out of the saddle.
The last knight finished reloading his crossbow. He brought the weapon to his shoulder and Mila shot him. The bolt penetrated his helmet and his head snapped back.
“Come on, you son of a bitch!” John yelled.
But Edward pulled his horse around and trotted back down the slope. His helmet was glued in John’s direction, and Mila could only imagine the look of pure hatred hidden beneath it.
“Damn you.” Edward spurred his horse and galloped back down the slope.
Edward rode down toward the coward Reginald and his useless captain. They were responsible for his humiliating defeat. If they had only charged with him, he would surely have taken the day by sheer force of numbers. Perhaps he could convince them to charge again? No. They had made their position clear. Now that Edward had lost his force of knights, he had no leverage over Reginald. Even though it was God’s will, Reginald would not respond to that line of reasoning. He never did.
Edward was the only one left to stop these heretics from spreading their sin throughout the kingdom. Lord, help me to find a way to defeat this wretched evil.
A scream came from the carriage. He had forgotten the women cowered within. Edward spurred his mount. God’s righteous justice would be done after all. If he could kill even one more heretic, it would be enough. Stories would be told throughout the land of St. Edward who slew the heretics that threatened his flock. Edward smiled behind his helm.
Thank you, Lord. He spurred his mount toward the carriage.
Mila, John, and Richard raced down the meadow as the bishop’s intentions became clear. The lumbering Richard was not built for speed, and John still limped from his injury. Mila quickly found herself in front of the other two, alone.
The bishop dismounted next to the carriage.
Mila had no time to reload her crossbow.
The bishop held his sword at the ready while he reached for the door handle with his free hand.
The inside of the carriage was in shadow, and the bishop paused to open his face plate.
Mila ran past the bishop’s mount. Raymond’s ornate sword belt glinted in the sun where he lay. She slowed just enough to grab the weapon and slide it out of its scabbard.
The bishop leaned into the dark of the carriage, leading with his sword.
Mila spotted the gap opening up between his back plate and his shoulder piece. Two-handed, she stuck the sword into the space like a pole vaulter launching herself into the air. All of her momentum and weight transferred to the tip of the sword. It was enough to defeat the links of chainmail, and the sword slid through, biting the bishop’s flesh.
The bishop screamed and twisted backwards to see what was attacking him.
His own movements provided the additional force necessary for Mila to drive her sword into his heart. Mila held his astonished gaze as he died. This bastard would know he had been killed by a woman.
She was still holding the sword with both hands when she heard the approach of horses.
Sandra and Lady Evelyn climbed down from the carriage. Lady Evelyn knelt next to Raymond’s corpse and placed a hand on his chest.
Reginald and Henri walked their horses around the back of the carriage. Mila bent and loaded her crossbow as John and Richard arrived behind her with their weapons at the ready.
Reginald and Henri made no move to attack.
“I only came for the silver,” said Reginald.
“You stupid boy.” Lady Evelyn kept her palm on Raymond. “Look what you have done.”
“Evelyn, I am sorry. I did not intend harm to Raymond, but when you abandoned your family—”
“You have no idea what a family is.” She pointed at Mila and her parents. “These people are a family. Reflect on how they have acted not against one another, but together. This would never have happened if Father were alive. You have surely disappointed him here today.”
“Reg.” Mila pointed to the track with her crossbow. “You should go.”
“But what about my silver?” Reginald said, as though that made his actions all right.
Mila shifted her aim to Reginald’s head and took a step toward him.
Henri stepped between Reginald and the bolt, but Reginald put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. He climbed into his saddle and rode away with Henri following.
“You.” John pointed a finger at Mila.
“What?”
“You were awesome.” He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. It was uncomfortable at first, but then her hands tentatively circled his back. Her hands tightened slightly, and he said, “I love you.”
“I know.” Mila pulled away. “I love you too.” She was not surprised to see Sandra standing beside them, crying.
“What?” Sandra smiled through her tears and sniffed.
Mila stood at the top of the meadow with John and Sandra. Rich
ard had begun to dig a grave for Raymond near the carriage, and Margaret sat quietly with Lady Evelyn.
“I’ve been thinking about this time travel idea of yours,” said John. “I want to make sure you both know what you’re getting into before we commit to it.”
“We’re doing it,” said Sandra.
“We’re going,” said Mila.
“Hang on, guys. Let me say this out loud and see if it makes sense to you.” He paused. When neither of them spoke, he said, “If we go back—”
“When we go back,” interrupted Sandra.
“Fine. When we go back, let’s say all of that stuff works. We save the guide and meet ourselves as we arrive. Think about that moment. There will be another one of each of us standing there with Jess. Have you guys thought about the significance of that?”
“Yes,” said Mila.
“What are you talking about?” said Sandra. “Just spit it out.”
“We aren’t going home with Jess,” Mila said. She watched Sandra process it.
“We aren’t going home at all,” said John.
Sandra seemed to understand for the first time.
“If we do this,” John continued, “It will only be to say goodbye to Jess. Once we’ve done that, she will go home with the other versions of us. And we will stay here, forever. Is that what you want?”
Mila held Sandra’s hands tightly.
“The other option is to go home right now.” John had to swallow before he could continue. “We’ll have a funeral for Jess, pick up the pieces, and try to get through without her. What do you want to do?”
Without a word exchanged between Mila and her mother, they both said, “We want to see Jess.”
“Okay then.” John put his hands up in surrender. “I just thought it needed to be said.”
“There is one problem,” said Mila.
“What?” He and Sandra focused on Mila.
She held up the MCV. “I haven’t figured out what the password is.”
Without missing a beat, Sandra said, “Ask Margaret.”
Mila’s jaw dropped open. She grabbed Sandra in a hug. “Mom, you’re a genius.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
May 1, 1341
“Last chance to back out,” Mila said. “My family and I are about to activate this device. If it works, we’ll go back in time seven days. It may not work. If it doesn’t, we could all be killed.” She put her arms around Sandra and John. “We think it’s worth the risk. You have to decide for yourselves.”
Margaret spoke first. “There’s nothing left for us here. With the baron angry with us, we cannot stay.”
“Okay.” Margaret had a reasonable grasp of what was about to happen, and Mila doubted that she’d tried to explain it to Richard.
Lady Evelyn’s eyes wandered to the fresh grave in the bluebells. “I will get to see Raymond again, yes?”
Mila nodded. “Anything’s possible.”
Lady Evelyn stood up straight and stated firmly, “I will come with you.”
They walked up the narrow path in the bluebells to the arrival point. Mila pulled the MCV out of her breeches. She swiped the surface, and the holographic display appeared.
Margaret had said the password was thealamo but that the screen would be “veer ball.” She said Chad had made her memorize the word in case she ever had to explain it to a guest. Mila had had no idea what “veer ball” could possibly mean. She’d run it over and over in her head like she was playing Mad Gab until the words ran together, and there it was. Verbal. You had to say the password out loud. That’s what Bob had been doing when he said “little big horn” for no reason, back in the SSTTC control room.
Mila said, “The Alamo.” The sub-menu system appeared. She typed in the date they had arrived, minus two days.
“Everybody ready?” asked Mila.
They all nodded.
“Okay, come closer.” She waved them toward her. “Everybody has to be touching it at the same time.”
They all shuffled in and put a hand on the MCV.
“Here goes.” Mila swiped a finger across the surface of the sphere.
The meadow began to glow around them. The wind kicked up. Mila had to close her eyes against the intense light. The last thing she remembered was feeling a lump under her foot. She knew instantly what it must be, rolled it between her ankles, and held it as tightly as she could.
April 25, 1341
This time the nausea never came. When the air pressure on her clothes subsided, Mila opened her eyes. They were all standing in the meadow, exactly as they had been just moments before. The only proof they had moved was the absence of the carriage and the dead knights.
Mila still held the MCV between her forefinger and thumb—she had determined not to drop it when they arrived. She placed it back inside the folds of her chainmail then bent and fished around in the bluebells for the lump she had found. She came across a green striped ball that matched the bluebell stems perfectly. When she picked it up, it became the color of her hand. It was their original MCV, the one they’d travelled back with seven days earlier. None of her family had known enough to look around for it when they arrived. They had just assumed it stayed in the present. How different would their trip have been if they had known it was lying here in the meadow the whole time? Mila placed it inside her chain mail with the other one.
“Okay, Margaret,” said John. “Take us to Chad’s, the fastest way you know.”
Margaret led them straight off the meadow into the forest. It wasn’t a trail, really, but the undergrowth was sparse and they were able to follow easily. They made good time, and Mila was hopeful the next step in the plan would go well. Then Lady Evelyn began to lag behind.
They all stopped and waited as John walked back to where she was slowly following the group. “Is something the matter?”
“Why must we travel through the woods?” With an expression of disgust, Lady Evelyn lifted one ornate boot at a time and held the hem of her dress out of the dirt with both hands.
“There is no choice,” said John in an unusually diplomatic voice. Mila thought he would normally have just thrown her over his shoulder to make up time. “We have to get to the guide’s cottage before dawn.”
“I am sorry, but I am going as fast as I can.”
“Would it help if I shortened your dress?”
“You will do no such thing.” Lady Evelyn stopped walking and stared, wide-eyed, at John.
John smiled at Mila and Sandra, mouth open, palms to the sky.
“But perhaps I can suggest a solution,” said Lady Evelyn.
“Let’s hear it,” said John.
“I will return to the meadow and make my way to the inn, on the road. I can await your return there, in comfort.” Lady Evelyn smiled. “Perhaps Sandra would like to join me?”
“I like your idea, but Sandra is staying with us,” John said. “There is absolutely no chance our family is splitting up.”
Mila rolled her eyes. John hadn’t changed that much, but she was okay with it. She thought they should stay together too.
“But you shouldn’t be alone either.” John pointed. “Richard will go with you.”
“And Margaret,” said Richard.
It would be hard to part Richard from Margaret, but they needed her to lead them to Chad’s. Mila tried to think of a way to convince Richard but soon realized Margaret could do it easily. She stepped over to Margaret, but she was interrupted before she could speak.
“I do not need a babysitter.” Lady Evelyn started back toward the meadow as if the matter was settled.
Mila smiled. Lady Evelyn had no idea how stubborn John was. Mila touched Margaret’s arm and nodded toward Richard.
“Richard,” said Margaret. “Look after Lady Evelyn, you big baby. I’ll see you soon.”
Richard’s mouth dropped open. Margaret kept walking in the direction they had been going.
“Thanks, Richard.” Mila smiled at him and followed Margaret. She forced herself
not to look back, knowing that John wouldn’t follow until he knew Richard was on task. A few minutes later, John and Sandra caught up to her and Margaret.
Lady Evelyn rushed toward Annie’s inn. Richard followed behind her with his head drooping like a petulant child’s, still sulking about not being allowed to stay with Margaret. When they reached the inn, it was still dark. “Richard, you will wait outside while I go in and see if Annie is about.”
“Yes, Lady Evelyn.” He bowed his head and stood to the side of the inn.
Evelyn stepped to the door and hesitated. The next few moments could well change her life forever, but she had come so far and sacrificed too much to turn away now. Inside the inn, just a few steps away, lay proof of whether this strange magic was real. If it was real, then Raymond De Falaise would come for her on the morrow and take her in his arms. Evelyn’s hand drifted to her secret pocket. She always carried her dagger regardless of how she was dressed. She felt its weight, sucked in a breath, and stepped inside the darkened inn. She had to know.
Evelyn climbed the stairs one at a time, pausing to listen for any change in Annie’s snores as they drifted in from the kitchen below. When she reached the door to the only upstairs room, she lifted the latch and stepped inside. A candle burned on a small table by the window, throwing enough light across the room to reveal a woman dressed in the white robes of the Sisters of St. Mary’s lying on the bed.
The woman sat up. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Evelyn stopped breathing. The woman sounded just like her. Evelyn crossed to the table and lifted the candle with her free hand. The other still held firmly to her dagger, hidden in her dress. “Do you know me?”
The woman stood and walked into the light. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Better than anyone.”
Evelyn stood frozen, staring at the abbess, who stood in front of her with one hand hidden beneath her white robes. “How did you know to expect me?”
The abbess raised an eyebrow. “At first, I thought I was dreaming, but as I awoke, it became clear that it was a memory. Strange that I should have memories of things that have not yet come to pass.”
“What was the memory?” Evelyn asked, but she already knew.
“Raymond’s death,” said the abbess.
