Microsoft Word - BETROTHED.docx

by Noah

  It was crowded down here, too. In the entryway, hundreds of people milled about, shoulder to shoulder, jostling Sam and Polly. While Polly previously had kept her distance from Sam, she inched closer, clearly nervous.

  He cleared a space for them both, pushing their way towards the front so that they could get a better look. Sam scanned all the faces intently, trying to see if he could spot Caitlin anywhere. But it was so chaotic, and there was so much energy in the air, he felt his senses being tuned out. He couldn't see her anywhere, and now he was starting to worry if they were in the right place at all.

  Maybe he had made a mistake coming here. Maybe Polly had been right.

  Sam also couldn't figure out why all these people were so excited about watching a bear chained to a post.

  And then it happened.

  A trumpet sounded, and several trap doors opened all around the sides of the stadium. In a perfect circle, out charged a dozen hunting dogs. They all charged right for the bear. Sam couldn't believe it.

  The dogs leapt high into the air, claws and teeth extended, aiming right for the bear. The first dog to reach it sunk its fangs into the bear’s hind leg.

  The bear wheeled in anger, and knocked the dog off of him with a swipe of his paw. The bear’s huge claws tore the dog in half, and the dog fell to the ground, dead.

  The crowd roared in approval.

  The other dogs attacked the bear from all directions, and he fought back viciously. They did damage, biting and scratching him, but he did much more damage than they, killing or wounding most of the dogs with a single bite.

  "PLACE YOUR BETS! PLACE YOUR BETS!" shouted a voice. A man walked past Sam and Polly holding out a pouch filled with coins, and an empty palm. As he went, various people reached over, brushing by Sam, and shoved various size coins into his hand. He stuffed these coins into his pouch, and reached out and gave the people tickets in return.

  “Twenty pence on the dogs!" yelled a man, as he thrust a coin into his hand.

  “Two pounds on the bear!” called out another man.

  The man stopped before Sam and Polly, looking at them, holding out his hand. "Will the young couple be placing a bet?" he asked.

  Sam, embarrassed, looked at Polly, and she looked away, equally embarrassed.

  "We are not a couple," Polly corrected, her face reddening.

  But the man didn't seem to care. Realizing they weren't betting, he moved on.

  Sam was embarrassed, too. And despite himself, he also felt a little hurt that Polly was so quick to clarify that they were not a couple. Not that they were. She just didn't have to be so forceful about it.

  The man moved on, but as soon as he did, another man appeared, carrying a sack over his shoulder. "GIN HERE! GIN HERE! Fifteen pence!”

  A huge, drunken man brushed by Sam, and as he did, he bumped Polly roughly, sending her stumbling, as he reached out and grabbed a flask of gin.

  Sam felt his temper flare. He turned to Polly, and could see that she was flustered.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  She nodded back, but looked shaken.

  "Let's go," she said. "Caitlin’s not here. I want to get out of here.” Sam was willing to go, especially since it was clear that Caitlin was nowhere to be found—but he wasn't ready to leave just yet. He was indignant that the man had so rudely jostled Polly, and he didn't feel right about leaving until he’d spoken his mind.

  "That'll be fifteen pence," said the vendor to the huge man.

  The man suddenly extracted a small knife from somewhere in his garment and held it up to the vendor's throat.

  "How about I trade you the flask for your life?" the man responded.

  The vendor, wide-eyed, hurried off.

  The man turned and began to make his way back.

  But Sam stepped sideways, and blocked his path. He bravely stared the man down, right in the eye.

  "You owe her an apology," Sam said to him, in a calm, cool rage.

  The man, a good foot taller than Sam—and twice as wide—looked down at Sam as if he were joking, then broke out into a menacing laugh.

  "Do I?" he asked.

  He turned and looked at Polly, and then licked his huge fat lips, practically drooling.

  "I tell you what: how ’bout I take her home with me for a ring or two, and I could apologize to her all night long. Yes. In fact, I think I’ll do that.”

  The man took a step towards Polly, as if to grab her.

  But before he could get any further, Sam stepped up and shoved him hard, sending him flying through the crowd, knocking over several people with him, and finally landing on his behind.

  "Sam, let's go," Polly urged in a low, hurried voice, grabbing Sam's arm, trying to pull him away.

  " Please.”

  But Sam wasn't ready to walk away. A part of him, the rational part, knew that he should. But that part was quickly receding into the back of his mind. Another part came to the fore: and it was the part that wanted blood. Vengeance.

  And the huge man didn’t seem to be in exactly a forgiving mood, either. His face turned bright red, as he sat there, embarrassed, on his behind, looking at Sam with something like shock. It didn't help that the entire crowd was now looking down at him, howling and hooting at him, making his face turn even redder.

  As he regained his feet, two other huge men suddenly came up beside him, and Sam could see that they were his friends. There was now, facing him, a pack of three of them, and as they approached Sam, they each pulled out a knife.

  "Small boy," said the man, "you're going to pay for that with your life. I hope it was a good one."

  The three of them lunged toward Sam.

  But Sam didn't feel any fear. Instead, he felt resolve—a cold, steely resolve.

  With one arm, he reached out and brushed Polly back behind him, so that he stood in front of her, offering her safety.

  Then he took two steps forward, leapt into the air, meeting the huge man in the middle, kicking him in the chest with both his feet, and sending him flying backwards. In the same motion, he reached out one hand in each direction, grabbed the heads of the two other men, and smashed them together.

  They collided with a sickening crack, and both collapsed to the ground.

  But Sam wasn’t done. He kept running forward, as the big man landed on his back once again.

  As he tried to regain his feet, Sam kicked him hard in the face, knocking him out cold.

  Sam wheeled, looking to see if anyone else was coming after him.

  But the crowd just stood there, in shock, finally silenced. Nobody dared come within feet of him.

  He saw several other men come towards him, from another direction, dressed in all black. They looked like officials, all dressed in the same uniform. They were larger, meaner, more professional looking. Security, perhaps.

  Five of them approached, holding clubs.

  Sam felt himself pulsing with rage, and he couldn't stop it. He leaned back and roared, the rage coursing through every inch of his body. He had never felt such rage, and as he leaned his head back and roared, the noise reverberated, louder and louder, above the din of the crowd, finally shaking the entire stadium. Within moments, the roar became louder than even the bear’s.

  People from every direction of the stadium stopped and turned their attention on him.

  The five security guards stopped cold in their tracks, a good ten feet away, frozen in fear at the sound and the sight.

  Clearly, it was evident, even for them, that Sam was not human.

  Sam blinked and opened his eyes to see Polly standing before him. It was hard to focus on her in his rage, but she was now standing just inches away, holding her hands to his face. Forcing him to focus.

  "Sam," she said. “It’s me.”

  Slowly, his rage waned.

  She reached out, took his hand, and led him through the parting crowd, everyone afraid to be close to them.

  Within moments, they were out the door, and back outside the stadium.
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  Polly led him at a quick pace, gaining even more distance, walking and walking, and they were soon far from the stadium. Eventually, they reached the bank of the river. As they did, Sam slowly felt himself returning to normal.

  Finally, she let go of his hand. He was so flooded with emotion, he was having a hard time remembering what had just happened.

  "Don’t you ever do that again," Polly snapped. "You just put us both in danger. And our entire race.”

  Sam felt indignant. He had just stood up for her—this was hardly the thanks he had been expecting.

  "What are you talking about?" he said. "I was looking out for you. I was protecting you. That man elbowed you.”

  "I don’t need your protection," Polly said. "I can handle myself, in case you forgot. It's not like I'm human. And I especially don't need any protection from any boys. I'm fine on my own. And besides—you weren’t protecting me: you were endangering me. And just flattering your own ego.” Sam felt angry now. He had thought she’d be grateful, and couldn’t understand why she was upset.

  "Fine,” he snapped. “I won't help you again.”

  "Fine," she snapped back.

  Sam stood there fuming, watching her back as she walked away.

  Girls, he thought. He would never understand them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Caitlin marveled at how quickly children rebounded. Scarlet walked beside her, practically skipping with joy, laughing aloud as she played with Ruth. Ruth practically skipped, too, glued to Scarlet’s side, turning her head left and right, on the lookout for any and all possible harm that might come within ten feet of Scarlet. Caitlin had never seen Ruth so protective, or so overjoyed. The two seemed like a match made in heaven, and they were already inseparable.

  Scarlet smiled from ear to ear, and looking at her now, it would seem as if she had never suffered any hardship at all. It lifted Caitlin's heart. It had crushed her to see Scarlet lying there, being beaten by that cruel human being. Now, she seemed alive again.

  Caitlin was thrilled to have Scarlet by her side, too. She couldn't help herself, but as she studied her, she found herself thinking of the child that she and Caleb might have had, had they remained in the 21st century. She couldn’t help but wonder if their child might have turned out somewhat like Scarlet. It was strange, but Caitlin even felt as if she could recognize some of her own facial features in the girl. Their connection felt so real, so natural, Caitlin felt, as she walked, as if she had always known her.

  After the incident in the alleyway, Ruth had started whining again, and Scarlet had rightly observed that she was famished. Before Caitlin and Caleb could decide where to go next, Scarlet had insisted on leading the way to food, and had skipped off without another word, barely even asking for their approval. She had seen that Ruth was hungry and was determined to rectify that. Caitlin and Caleb smiled as they found themselves following along, twisting and turning in and out of side streets and alleyways to Scarlet’s lead.

  Ruth couldn't be happier. It was as if she knew she were being led to a coming meal.

  "It's not too far now, Ruth," Scarlet said, stroking her head. “Just a few more blocks. Hang in there.”

  Ruth whined in delight, wagging her tail, as if she understood.

  Scarlet turned to Caitlin as she walked.

  "You see there?" asked Scarlet. "That's the river. Just at the end of this block. From there, we make a left, and that takes us along Bankside. Just past the row houses is a wharf, and there’s a man there that sells strips of meat. It’s not the best in town, but they're cheap. I'm afraid I haven’t any money, though.”

  "Don't worry," Caleb said, reaching into his pocket and extracting a fistful of gold coins. Caitlin looked at them in wonder, wondering where he got them.

  "They're not from this time and place,” he said with a smile, “but they’re gold after all. I'm sure no vendor would turn this down.”

  Scarlet's eyes opened wide. "My God,” she exclaimed, “are you rich or something?"

  Caleb smiled down. "Something like that.”

  Scarlet practically skipped as they continued down the street, reaching the river, just like she had said. Caitlin marveled at her sense of direction. She had been leading them, twisting them in and out of back streets, determined to show them her entire neighborhood. They were on her turf now, and she had insisted on giving them a grand tour, as if she had been waiting for them.

  As they reached the waterfront, Scarlet suddenly stopped, as if frozen, and looked up to her right. Caitlin wondered what she was looking at, and assumed maybe it was a tall, passing ship.

  But when Caitlin came up beside her, she saw what it was. There, in the distance, on the London Bridge, those three prisoners that had been sitting on the scaffold were now being hoisted up higher.

  There was a sounding of trumpets, and suddenly the platforms were removed from all three of them.

  They each plummeted down, hanging and twisting by their necks.

  The crowd roared.

  Caitlin reached up and gently turned Scarlet’s shoulders, guiding her away from the grisly sight.

  "It's okay," Scarlet said. "It happens here every day."

  Caitlin looked at her with concern, and couldn’t even imagine what it must have been like for her to grow up in this time and place. "I'm so sorry," Caitlin said. "That must be very sad for you.” Scarlet looked sad for a moment, but then brushed it off with a shrug and turned away.

  "Come on Ruth! It's not far now. Just this way.”

  She suddenly skipped off in the other direction, turning left along the river. "There!" she yelled, pointing. “Come on, Ruth!" she yelled, running forward.

  Caitlin smiled, keeping a watchful eye on her, and realized how protective she felt of her already.

  She turned to Caleb, wondering what he thought of all this. She worried for a second if he was mad that they had taken her under their wing.

  But he was as happy as she was. She wondered if he, too, had been contemplating if their child would have turned out like this.

  He turned and smiled. "She's wonderful," he said.

  "We can't just abandon her,” Caitlin said. “She has no one else to watch out for her.”

  "I know," Caleb said.

  Caleb reached out and they held hands as they walked along the bank, watching Scarlet and Ruth running. Caitlin felt her heart warm with emotion, and felt certain that, at that moment, Caleb, too, thought of her as their child. It brought tears to Caitlin's eyes.

  Scarlet and Ruth ran up onto a large wooden structure along the river bank. Before it hung a sign which read “Falcon Inn.” It was a large, bustling inn—and judging from the people hurrying in and out, a seedy place.

  Caitlin and Caleb caught up to them, standing behind Scarlet as she walked up to a small booth in the back of the hotel, hidden from sight. There was a man wearing a greasy, bloodstained apron, slicing huge chunks of meat.

  "Two please," Scarlet said to the man.

  He scowled down at her. "And where do you expect to find the money to pay for that today?"

  he asked, mocking. "Like I told you before: no money, no meat.” Caleb cleared his throat, stepping forward. "You will, in fact, give the girl two pieces of meat, as she requested," he said sternly, glowering down at the man. "In fact, you will give her as much meat as she wants.” Caleb reached out and placed a large gold coin into the man's beefy palm.

  The man looked down, eyes opening wide at the large piece of shining gold. Caitlin realized that that probably represented enough money to pay for a thousand pieces of meat.

  The man quickly set to cutting huge chunks of meat off his spit, handing them in rapid-fire to Scarlet. The second they hit her hand, she reached over and dangled them in front of Ruth, who jumped up and snatched them off her fingers.

  Scarlet laughed with delight.

  The man handed her another piece, and she did it again—and again, Ruth snatched the meat.

  Scarlet screamed with laughter. "You'
re so hungry, Ruth!"

  Ruth licked her lips. The man kept slicing meat, in bigger and bigger chunks, and Scarlet kept feeding them to her.

  After six more slices, Caleb stepped forward.

  "The next piece is for you, Scarlet.”

  She took the next piece with delight, eyes open wide, and devoured it. Clearly, she was ravenous.

  “We’ll each take one, too," Caleb said, and the man cut them each a slice.

  Caitlin bit hard and sucked the blood out of it, and she saw Caleb do the same. She felt it trickle through her veins, and realized how famished she was—for real blood.

  It took the edge off. But it also made her realize that she needed to feed—to really feed. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be disciplined. There was probably a forest not far from here, and she would force herself to wait.

  "Come on, Ruth, you have to see the view!"

  Scarlet bounded off, zigzagging behind the hotel, and Ruth took off after her.

  Caitlin and Caleb struggled to keep up. By the time Scarlet had stopped running, she had led them all to a large wooden pier, jutting out over the river, with a set of stairs sloping down right into the water. A large sign read “Paris Garden Stairs.” The rickety staircase sloped right down to the water’s edge, and was filled with people sitting, standing, looking out at the water, and with more people arriving in boats.

  Scarlet ran right up to the water’s edge and pointed at a passing boat with a huge sail rising into the sky. Ruth ran up beside her, looking out.

  Caitlin stood behind her, worried that Scarlet not slip and fall into the water. She looked out at the river, and was amazed at the sight: it was like being in a painting. The sun broke through the clouds, striking the water, while tall, historic sailing ships slowly bobbed their way past.

  Caleb slid his arm around her waist, looking out, too, and Caitlin breathed deeply. For the first time, she felt relaxed in this time and place.

  The mission was important to her, but it felt so good having Caleb by her side. She realized that was all she really needed to feel content. That, and knowing that the people she loved and cared for were safe. She found herself thinking of Sam and Polly again. She hoped they’d made it safely out of the Notre Dame. She realized that seeing them here, safe and sound, would be all that she needed to feel complete.