Children of Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book Four) (12 page)

He reached me in three strides, kissed my cheek, and took my hand to lead me to the dais. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t want to miss your birthday celebration,” I said. The crowd applauded some more as four servants brought out a layer cake the size of a boulder.

“I can’t believe this is all for me,” Dafydd said.

“Happy birthday, my love,” I said as he seated me in a chair beside him, one that Edmund Mortimer had vacated at my approach. “You did very well, especially when your wife went behind your back to ensure the day was memorable.”

Dafydd had lifted his goblet to his lips, but now he laughed and sputtered, almost spewing his wine across the table. “This is your doing? I am betrayed!”

Clare laughed, having overheard, took my hand, and kissed the back of it. “I am honored that you trusted me with your secret.”

And then to Dafydd, he added, “Your legend grows.”

Neither Dafydd nor I had to ask what Clare meant.

Chapter Nine

17 November 2016

Meg

L
lywelyn spent all of November sixteenth alternately asleep and awake, but by noon on the seventeenth, he was more bright-eyed than I’d seen him in months. At that point, I couldn’t put off calling my sister any longer. It had been wrong of me to wait this long, but I hadn’t wanted to throw myself on her mercy. I’d been hiding, not wanting to deal with her suspicion and skepticism. After David’s birth, she had refused ever to mention his father, refused to hear anything about him. How would she feel about seeing Llywelyn in the flesh?

I had to wait until mid-day to call because of the time difference between Wales and Pennsylvania. By seven in the morning their time, she and Ted would be awake, but not quite out the door for work.

I’d bought the best cell phone the woman who sold it to me had in stock. I wished I could have reached Bronwen at Chepstow instead. And really, it wasn’t fair that I couldn’t call her. It was the same planet, right? Just a little twisted to one side? Why didn’t cell phones work in our medieval world?

David had been working on generating electricity ever since he’d come back from the twenty-first century with his reams of directions for modern inventions. He’d built a little plant associated with a water wheel that powered Caerphilly’s flour mill, tapping into the energy the water created. Not that he’d had anything to use it for, other than powering useless electronics.

I knew he’d tried to work my phone, after he’d spliced together wires from Elisa’s minivan. I’d caught him flipping it open and had so wanted to hear him say,
I have three bars!
But he had nothing.

Thus, calling my sister in the United States would have to do. I curled up on the sofa in our suite. My fingers trembled as I dialed Elisa’s number.

Ring, ring, ring.

“Hello?” Ted’s voice came down the line, a little sleepy.

“Ted. It’s Meg.”

Silence
. And then he let out a whoop that had me pulling the phone away from my ear before he deafened me. “You’re back? You’re really back?”

“For the moment,” I said. To my horror, I found my throat closing over tears instead of laughter.

“Where are you?” The authority in Ted’s voice came through loud and clear. He was an organizer and a doer. The day Elisa had brought him home had been a good day in our household.

“Near Aberystwyth,” I said.

“You’re really in Wales? Right now?”

At the incredulity in his voice, I lost it. I’d worked hard to contain myself for the last two days and just when I wanted to come across as reasonable and not needy, I fell apart on the phone to my brother-in-law.

“Yes!” I sobbed the word into the speaker.

“It’s okay, Meg.” Ted repeated the words several times until I was able to speak again. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“We’re at a clinic.”

“Are you okay?” His voice was urgent.

“Yes. But I brought Llywelyn here because I was afraid he was going to die.”

“You brought Llywel—” He stopped and then tried again. “You mean you brought Llywelyn,
your
Llywelyn, to the twenty-first century?”

“I did.” My tears were abating. “It’s mind-boggling, I know.”

“Do you have money?”

“For now. I sewed one of my credit cards into my dress, so we have that,” I said.

That earned me another moment of silence. “I knew it was the right decision not to cancel them,” he said. “So you’ve been planning this for a while?”

“I’ve had to, Ted. I’m pregnant again.”

Ted coughed and laughed at the same time. “Oh, Meg. The world is turned upside down.”

Laughter bubbled up in my chest. “You’re not kidding.”

“All right.” Papers rustled in the background. “Consider me on a plane to Wales. Into what city should I fly—?” He stopped again. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out.”

I gave him the address to the spa that was written on the brochure and he said he’d get a map off the internet. “What about … Elisa? And the kids? If they could come too …” My breath caught in my throat at the thought of seeing them again.

A sigh. “All three have the chicken pox.”

“What?” I choked on a laugh. “Surely they were vaccinated.”

“They were. I know. Crazy, isn’t it?” Ted said. “My mom was planning to arrive today to help out, so they won’t miss me if I leave.”

“Can I talk to Elisa?” I said. “Will she want to talk to me, do you think?”

“Of course, she will,” Ted said. “Just a sec.”                  

Ted must have had the phone pressed to his chest, because the sound of his voice came to me muffled. I got a
who is it
and a
what?
from Elisa. Then some more silence before she came on the line.

“God, Meg!” Elisa said. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“Hi, Elisa,” I said.

“Are you like … back for good or … um …?”

“That’s not the plan.” I spoke as gently as I could. “Llywelyn has been ill for months and we took the risk of coming here in the hope that someone could help him.”

“Ted said that you’re in Wales?”

“Apparently.”

“How—how—why? Last time David came to Pennsylvania.”

I laughed. “You’re asking me? We’re talking about time travel here, right?”

“I thought David said that you went to an alternate universe?” Elisa said.

I managed not to grind my teeth. “Yes. Yes. You’re right. Regardless, we’re here now, at Aberystwyth.”

“Ted has bought himself a ticket. I’m not feeling well, Meg. I’ll give him the phone again.” Elisa passed me off to her husband.

“I arrive at Heathrow tomorrow morning at nine,” he said. “That’ll be the eighteenth.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Of course I do. Don’t even say it. Besides, I’ve been meaning to check on some of our overseas assets and this will give me a chance to do that.”

I realized that Ted must have changed jobs, which shouldn’t have surprised me. It wasn’t unusual to move from the political realm to the business world and back again. “Are you sure? If Elisa needs you—”

“As I said, my mother’s coming and the airline wouldn’t even let Elisa or the kids on the plane,” Ted said. “I’ve made my return for the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thank you. I can’t possibly thank you enough.”

A low rumble of laughter flowed down the line to me. “Are you kidding? I get to meet the last Prince of Wales! The real one! From the Middle Ages!”

“I do love you, Ted,” I said. “And he’s the King now, not Prince. We’re no longer under England’s yoke.”

Ted guffawed. “I need to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, at the latest. Can I call you on this phone?”

“Yes, I’ll buy more minutes—”

But Ted had hung up. I stared at the phone. I hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to Elisa. I almost called her back, but I didn’t. She didn’t want to talk to me. Or, if that wasn’t completely fair—couldn’t. I hadn’t allowed myself to hope, but it would have been fun if Elisa could have been as excited to talk to me, and to meet Llywelyn, as Ted was.

Although I looked longingly at the bed and its plush softness, I left the suite and returned to the hospital wing. I poked my head into the room to find both Llywelyn and Goronwy asleep. Llywelyn’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, while Goronwy reclined in one of the chairs which, despite Dr Raj’s belief that they were uncomfortable, was designed to allow a guest to sleep in the room with a patient.

I watched them silently. We’d arrived almost two days ago now. Llywelyn’s color was better and he should be switching to oral antibiotics soon. A discarded tray sat on the table next to his bed, with every dish empty. A few more meals like that and Llywelyn really might get well. My stomach clenched and then I forced myself to relax. It had been a long couple of months, knowing how ill he had become and being unable to do a thing about it. I wasn’t going to get over my worry for him just like that.

Goronwy stirred, and I entered the room to pull up a chair on the other side of Llywelyn’s bed. Llywelyn turned his head to look at me, and his eyes were completely clear.

“Your medicine is like magic,” he said.

I shook my head and smiled. “The nurse told me as I passed her desk that she’s never seen anyone recover as quickly from pericarditis as you.”

Llywelyn’s eyes glittered. “Maybe nobody has ever needed to recover as quickly as I did.”

“With no scientific evidence whatsoever, I’m guessing that it’s because you’ve never had any medical treatment in your life, so your body has no previous experience with antibiotics. The medicine is probably curing infections in every nook and cranny, ones which we didn’t even know you had.”

“How soon can we go home?” Llywelyn said.

“You’re ready to leave?” I said. “You’ve already seen enough?”

“I want to see that memorial you talked about,” Llywelyn said. “At Cilmeri.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to take you there.”

“Why not?”

“It’s morbid,” I said. “And … well … I just think you’re not going to like it.”

Llywelyn’s eyes narrowed as if he were angry, but his mouth twitched, even as he said, “You’ve been keeping secrets from me?”

“I didn’t think you needed to know that right next to the memorial is a water source called “Llywelyn’s Well’ where the English soldier who cut off your head washed it of your blood.”

Llywelyn choked. “You jest!”

“I do not jest.” I thought a moment. “If you really want to see the sights, I could take you to Aberystwyth Castle, the one Edward built after you died. It’s a complete ruin now, covered with graffiti.”

Llywelyn relaxed against his pillows. “I might like to see that.”

I didn’t have to explain to him what graffiti was. Ancient people wrote on things they shouldn’t all the time. I leaned forward to put my arms around him and he pulled me close so he could kiss me without having to move. “I’m glad you didn’t die,” I said.

He smiled. “So am I.” His brows came together. “I’m worried about Dafydd.”

I sat back. “I hope he had a good birthday.”

“We should have been there to celebrate it with him,” Llywelyn said.

“He would have spent it journeying into England, whether we were there or not.” I managed to say this matter-of-factly, but barely. “He’s twenty now. A grown man for six years. He’ll be fine.”

“Do you really believe that?” Llywelyn said.

“He is your son,” I said. “What do you think?”

“When I was his age, my uncle died and I stepped into his shoes as Prince of Wales,” Llywelyn said. “You’re right. It is wrong of me to think our son capable of less than I. He’s less damaged than I, and sometimes that comes across as weakness, when really he’s stronger inside and has less need to prove himself.”

“Speaking of sons,” I said, “I’ve arranged for someone to come and have a look at me.”

“At you?” Llywelyn’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong with you—” And then he broke off and nodded. “The baby.”

“The midwife should be here any minute,” I said.

“Well, then.” Goronwy got to his feet. “I’ll see about some more coffee. And maybe a doughnut.”

Both Llywelyn and I grinned at Goronwy, who left the room, jingling coins in his pocket. I moved closer to Llywelyn and he scooted over so I could sit on the bed beside him. We wound our hands together and he put his other hand on my belly. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d prefer a daughter, Meg.”

“It would be easier for David,” I said. “How could you not prefer that, given the warfare within your family?”

“I’m going to live,” he said. “So you won’t have to raise her all on your own.”

“You’d better live,” I said. “Did you know that we could find out if it’s a boy or a girl right now? Today?”

Llywelyn’s brow furrowed. “How?”

“They have a machine here that looks inside a woman’s womb,” I said, using the medieval term. “We could at least be prepared.” I rubbed my stomach. “Whoever it is, it’s going to be huge.”

“I know I shouldn’t comment until I’ve examined you, but you do look rather larger than I would expect for a woman who’s only five months pregnant.”

Goronwy had left the door ajar after he’d gone through it, and the midwife stood in the doorway, smiling at us and speaking in Welsh. Like the nurse, she understood our speech well enough. To my ear, medieval Welsh and modern Welsh sounded quite different at times, but I hadn’t been raised on them either.

“I’m five and a half months,” I said, trying not to sound defensive. I turned sideways so she could see my belly better. “If that makes a difference.”

She tipped her head back and forth in a
maybe
motion, then held out her hand to me. “I’m Audrey. Would you like to come with me?”

“Meg.” I shook her hand. “This is my husband, Llywelyn.”

Audrey shook Llywelyn’s hand too. In medieval Wales, men clasped forearms in greeting, and women might touch fingers, so he didn’t have any experience with a full handshake. Still, he managed a credible one with what looked like a firm grip. “I hear you’re going to be just fine,” she said to him.

“I plan on it,” he said.

Audrey nodded and gestured for me to come with her. I shot a look at Llywelyn who said, “Find out.”