A Trespass in Time (21 page)

            Both Rowan and Ella soon realized that, regardless of how the day started out, the day’s chores were no less onerous. At midday, after a frustrating morning of digging and throwing weeds onto a pile to be burned, Rowan came into the dining hall for lunch. Greta was already seated at the table. To her left was a rotund, squat priest, who sat studying his fingers on the table in front of him. Rowan sat down.

            “Hello, Rollo,” Greta said, in keeping with Rowan’s new name. “A good morning,
ja
?”

            Rowan looked at the priest and then at Greta. “
Ja
,” he said. While they waited, Ella and the other nuns and novices served them. She set down bowls of steaming broth in front of Rowan, Greta and the priest, then returned to the kitchen to fetch bread. Once the table had been completely furnished, she and the other women sat at the far end of the table. The little priest said the blessing and everyone ate.

            The meal was somber and quiet. Rowan kept trying and failing to catch Ella’s eye. Eventually, he resigned himself to plowing through the bland meal before returning to work. Just before he was about to excuse himself, Greta addressed him.

            “Remain seated, please, Rollo,” she said.

           
Beats the cold garden
, he thought to himself.
 

            Greta spoke to the priest and he stood up slowly. One of the nuns escorted the priest out of the room.

            “What the hell was that all about?” Rowan asked as soon as the man was gone.

            Ella began to clear the table.

            “Ella, will you please join us?” Greta said.

            Rowan saw Ella frown and realized that, for a change, she didn’t know everything that was going on around here. She sat down next to him.

            Greta waited patiently for the novices to clear the table and then she turned to them and smiled.

            “I must ask you both to do something for me.”

            “Of course,” Ella said. “Name it.”

            “I have difficulty speaking of these things. I hope you will forgive me.”

            “Oh, crap,” Ella said. “We’re too loud in bed. Is that it?”

            “I am so sorry, Ella,” Greta said. “I hope you will understand. We are a religious house.”

            “Of course, of course.
I’m
the one who’s sorry. I didn’t even think. We’ll tone it down in future.”

            “It is more than that, I’m afraid,” Greta said. Rowan could see that the usually cool and collected Greta was very uncomfortable having to discuss this topic with them. “A couple that is together in this way…”

            “Greta, no problem. Really,” Ella said. “You want us to stay in separate rooms?”

            “Not if it means you will not
stay
in separate rooms,” Greta said, looking embarrassed. “I hate to ask you to do this for me after you have already done so much.”

            “It’s fine, Greta,” Rowan said. “If you’re asking what I think you’re asking. It’s fine.”

            Ella looked from Greta to Rowan. “Did I miss something?”

            Rowan turned to Ella and ran his hand down her arm. “This is not how I envisioned this moment—not that I
ever
envisioned this moment, you understand—but if we want to be together in this century, and I, for one, am not going to be able to keep my hands off you now that the genie’s outta the bottle, I reckon we need to make it legal. Heck, they probably cut your hands off for lesser offenses, huh, Greta?”

            Relieved, Greta smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Or other extremities,” she said.

            “Why
,
Mother Superior,” Rowan said, grinning at her. “You have a wicked sense of humor.”

            Ella was dumbfounded. “You want us to get married,” she said. She looked at Greta and then Rowan.

            “I am sorry, Ella,” Greta said. “It is not romantic, I know, but it is necessary if you and Herr Pierce will lie together while you are with us.”

            Ella looked at Rowan and he merely smiled at her.

            “Okay,” Ella said. “I guess we can do that.”

            “You’re not already married, are you?” Rowan asked.

            “Very funny,” Ella said. She turned to Greta. “Will it be legal when we go back to our own time?”

            Rowan, who was in the process of getting up to fetch the priest, stopped. “Do you want it to be?” he asked.

            “I cannot imagine that it would be legal in 2012,” Greta said. “It will have been performed four hundreds years earlier.” She called to the priest and spoke to him in German when he reentered the room.

           
I’m getting married,
Ella thought, as the priest recited the ceremony. She took Rowan’s arm and he winked at her.

            Later that night, as they snuggled in a new larger bed together, Ella was deliriously happy. A part of her tried to remind herself that it wasn’t real. The other part of her tried to assure herself that it was. She was Mrs. Rowan Pierce and even if they returned home and,
God forbid,
decided to go their separate ways, he would always know that his history included Ella Stevens as his wife. As his lawful 1620 wife.

            “Thinking, wife?”

            She looked at him and he was grinning.

            “You’re enjoying this,” she said.

            “Oh, yeah.”

            “Most men, I’m told, are leery of commitment.”

            “So you’re convinced this is legal?”

            If he was teasing her, she wasn’t enjoying it. And if he was saying it wasn’t legal, she didn’t want to hear it.

            “Oh, come on, baby,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “For better or worse we are married in this world. You
are
my wife. Here and now.”

            “You’re right,” she said. “I am.” 

            Before responding, he kissed her on the mouth for a long moment. “We got a little business to take care of before we can consummate this here arrangement,” he said.

            “What kind of business?”

            “While the juices are flowing and all is right with our world, we need to have a quick think about how to handle this Krüger dipshit. Let’s just put our heads together and come up with some kind of direction before we call it a day.”

            “I’ve tried, Rowan,” she said. “All I can see is us marching up to the front gates fully armed with our modern day arsenal and demanding the release of the novices and that Krüger cease and desist forthwith.”

            “Yeah, okay, I don’t think the direct approach is where we want to go with this one, babe.” He yawned and Ella found herself hoping he wasn’t going to be too tired to make the marriage binding.

            “Well, I’m totally blocked in that case,” she said.

            “Okay, now, let’s look at it like a job. With police work, there’s usually a crime already committed and I’m looking for information specific to the murder, drug deal, or whatever.  So normally I have an idea of what I’m looking for in advance. In this case, anything we find could be helpful.”

            “You’re saying we should gather info first and come up with a plan when we see what we find?”

            “Well, I guess I’m saying that we can create the crime or, in our case, the plan of attack based on whatever we find out. We can afford to be flexible.”

            “That’s good, right? We’ll have more options depending on what we  uncover.”

            “Yeah, and since we’re on the side of good but not necessarily on the side of the law, we’re not limited by rules either.”

            “I like how you think,” Ella said, snuggling up to him and feeling his warmth through her thin cotton nightgown. “Beats the heck out of storming the castle with a Taser and a pack of matches. Rowan, thank you.”

            “Crap, Ella. What else am I gonna do? An asshole in 1620 ain’t that much different from one in 2012, trust me. These are
nuns
for Chrissake. I’m not gonna just stand by.”

            “I really kind of love that about you.”

            “Whoa, sister. Don’t be slinging the L word around. I can get skittish, you know.”

            “You look pretty stable to me. But after we do this—if we
can
do this—I’ve got a little bit of a situation back in 2012 to deal with.”

            “And I’ll be first in line to help you do that,” he said, looking into her eyes, “But let’s focus on surviving sixteen twenty first.”

            “Bet you never imagined those words coming out of your mouth.”

            “You have no idea. And now what was that other matter we needed to deal with? Oh, yeah…” She held out her arms to him and he reached hungrily for his very willing bride.

            The next day, Ella, Greta and Rowan cleared off the worktable in the kitchen so they could hammer out the details of their plan. A novice toasted bread and made weak dandelion tea for them as they worked through the morning.

            “Okay, Greta,” Rowan said. “What’s the main thing about this Krüger guy?”

            “The main thing?” Greta looked at Ella for clarification.

            “The thing that makes him tick,” Ella explained. “The most important thing about him.”

            Greta thought for a moment. “Well, he wants to be better known, or feared, than his father was,” she said.

            “Okay,” Rowan said. He looked at her and tapped the table with a metal fork.

            Ella could not get used to him without his cowboy hat. Dressed in peasant clothes, he just didn’t look like himself. He looked raw and basic. She realized she was blushing.

            “Want to join the group, Ella?” Rowan said.

            “Okay. Sorry. Well, for example, Mother, does he own anything that he prizes above all else?”

            “It is known that he loves his eldest son, Axel,” Greta said. “He disdains his other son, Christof.”  

            “What would happen if we were to discredit Axel?” Rowan said. He rubbed his hands together as if warming to the idea.

            “If Axel lost his favor? That is unimaginable,” Greta said.

            “If he didn’t have Axel,” Rowan said, “would he make Christof his heir?”

            “Christof’s the good guy,” Ella said to Rowan.

            “I know,” he said. “Well, Mother Superior?”

            “Krüger believes strongly in the lines of primogenitor,” she said slowly. “If Axel were killed or disgraced, he would hand over the castle and all its power to his next-born son. But it is impossible to damage Axel. With one who is so disgraceful already how do you diminish him in the eyes of a fellow monster?”

            “Leave that to me, Mother,” Rowan said, patting her hand.  

            Ella was excited.
Thank God for Rowan
.
They had a plan!
She watched him pull their weapons out of the mailbag and lay them on the table. There was his  Glock, a switchblade, a lighter, and one ammo clip. Next to these, he set out the block of C4, a handful of blasting caps, the Taser, the two shotgun shells and both cellphones.

            “Okay,” he said to Greta. “Now, tell me what’s going on these days church-wise.”

            “Church-wise?”

            “He means who’s beheading whom as a zealot or blasphemer. Has Luther shown up yet?”

            “Yes, there are many Lutherans in Germany at this time.”

            “But say, for example,” Rowan said, picking up the Taser and examining it, “if someone were accused of being a witch or warlock, what would happen to them?”

            “They would be burned at the stake,” Greta said.

            “That’s what I call discrediting,” Rowan said, putting the gun back on the table.

            “You are going to make it appear that Axel is dabbling in the black arts?”

            “That’s right.”

            “Sounds good to me,” Ella said. “Sounds effin’ brilliant, in fact.”

            “Thank you, darlin’,” Rowan said. “I appreciate that.”

            “But how will you do such a thing?” Greta said. “Axel is well known in Heidelberg. The evidence would be instantly dismissed. His father would ensure that he never came to trial.”

            “He might,” Rowan drawled, “if he got to thinking that maybe Axel wasn’t really his son.”

            “What do you mean? Of course Axel is his son.”

            “Really? You know that for a fact?”

            Greta gave Ella a puzzled look.

            Ella laughed. “Don’t look at
me
, Greta, I think it’s a great idea.”

            “But how?” Greta said. “How can you possibly introduce or prove such an idea?”

            “We can,” Rowan said, picking up his cellphone, “through the wonder of modern technology.”

            Later, during a dinner of mostly bread, wine and a few vegetables from the garden, Greta seemed to be very pleased. She held both Rowan and Ella’s hands and said grace before they ate. Her smile beamed as she conversed with the nuns and novices seated at the table with them.

            “How well did you know Heidelberg when you lived there?” she asked Ella after the other nuns had left.

            “Mostly the clubs. A few restaurants, I guess.”

            “You know the Church of the Holy Spirit, of course?”

            “Sure, it’s the one at the end of the
Altstadt
. Very popular place for weddings and stuff.”

            “The Church of the Holy Spirit is the most famous church in all of Heidelberg,” Greta said, her eyes bright with pride.

            “You know it’s totally Protestant in 2012, right?”

            “It was already Protestant when I lived in Heidelberg in the forties,” Greta said. “Even now we pass it back and forth. Before last year, we actually shared it. Are you familiar with the Catholic Church of the Jesuits? Imagine. I have lived in Heidelberg all my life and attended Mass there many times. Yet I was able to witness the beginning of its construction in 1612.  Of course, I must keep to myself the fact that in 1872 it will get a beautiful new bell tower.”