Children of Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book Four) (24 page)

“Isn’t that Windsor Castle on the Thames?” the man said. “It’s not as elaborate as it is in our time, and the river is flowing closer to it than it should, but the tower is almost right …”

I was having trouble processing his words and that he, of all people, might know where we were. “You think we’re in
Windsor
?”

“Whoooee!” The man laughed, though he sounded closer to hysteria than amusement. “My God. Welcome to the Middle Ages.” Then he stuck out his hand to me. “I’m Callum.”

“Meg.” I shook his hand. “You’re not Welsh?”

“My dad’s American, mom’s Scottish.”

Great. “
You do realize that the man you were trying to stop is the King of Wales, right?” I said.

Some of Callum’s ebullience faded from his face. He looked past me to Llywelyn who was eyeing both of us with what had to be amusement, given the twitch in the corner of his mouth. Callum scrambled to his feet. “Uh, Sire,” he said, in English, “It’s … uh … nice to meet you.”

“He said—” I began.

“I know what he said.” Llywelyn reached up to Callum, who grasped his forearm and helped him to his feet. Callum was taller than Llywelyn and more broad-shouldered. Even were he to put on medieval clothes, he would stand out in a crowd.

Now that we all were upright, I didn’t see how I could have mistaken the little beach or the river for any place near Chepstow. “We should find shelter,” Goronwy said. “Meg has started to shiver and we’re all getting colder by the second.”

Goronwy was right and I clutched my arms around myself, trying to find some warmth. Both babies kicked at the same time, a miraculous rat-a-tat-tat. I put a hand to my belly. “At least we’re here and unharmed.”

Llywelyn put his head close to mine. “You’re sure that you are well?”

I put his hand to my belly, where the drumming duet was ongoing. He smiled. “What were the chances we’d arrive in Windsor, the exact place we need to be to help Dafydd?”

“Honestly, I think the odds were excellent,” I said, “if it was going to work at all.”

“How so?” Llywelyn said. “When you returned to me four years ago, you arrived at the Wall.”

“I did, but this confirms a theory I’ve been developing,” I said.

Llywelyn raised his eyebrows. If he were David, he would have said, “Care to share?” but since I could read him, he didn’t have to be so flippant.

“I’ve decided that we don’t return to the place we want to be, but to the place we
need
to be.”

“But—?” Llywelyn stopped as he thought about what I’d said. “I don’t know that I like the idea of you ending up so far from me, but I can see why you might think it was necessary, given what came after.”

“David went from Lancaster to the Wall, and then to the modern world where he found Bronwen, who saved your life,” I said.

Llywelyn pursed his lips. “Perhaps you’re right at that.”

Goronwy had already started walking. “It wouldn’t be good for you to catch a chill so soon after you’ve started feeling well.”

“Of course,” Llywelyn said. “It’s time we discovered if Callum is correct in his assessment of our location.” Llywelyn led us to a path that followed the river downstream, walking confidently in a way I hadn’t seen in months. We came around some bushes to see the wooden bridge that would take us across the Thames River to Windsor Castle.

Before the first William conquered England in 1066, the old Saxon palace for the English kings had been built a mile and a half downstream from the current castle. It no longer existed and I didn’t remember why the Normans moved it. You would have thought they would have built right over the old one, as a sign of their power, but they hadn’t.

I was a little concerned that Llywelyn was going to march us right into an ambush, but he strode along, head high, unconcerned about his lack of protection or that we were in England. He climbed the bank up to the road with little effort while the rest of us straggled along behind him. He reached for my hand to haul me to level ground. My skirt caught around my ankles and I stumbled. I was really shivering now. My cloak did me no good when it, like everything else I had on, was soaking wet.

“I gather you have a plan, my lord,” Goronwy said.

I glanced back at him. That was the first time he’d called Llywelyn
my lord
since I told him not to. We really were back in the Middle Ages.

“I thought I’d knock at the gates of Windsor Castle and introduce myself,” Llywelyn said.

Nobody had a response to that, other than open-mouthed surprise. Callum stared at the ground as we walked, and as we approached the bridge, pulled up. “I can’t go any further.”

“Callum—” I stopped and tugged Llywelyn to a halt as well.

Two soldiers guarded our end of the bridge, while two more watched from the other side. They held pikes which barred the passage across. As I watched, a horse pulling a farmer’s cart clip-clopped across the bridge, which was wider than most of the roads I’d spent the last day driving in Wales. Four sheep baaaa-ed at us from the back as it passed by. Once it had gone, the four soldiers went back to watching us.

“Look at me!” Callum gestured with both hands to indicate his clothing and then pointed to the guards on the bridge. “Look at them!”

I turned to Goronwy. “He’s fearful for his appearance.”

Goronwy unhooked the brooch that kept his cloak closed at the throat and swung it around Callum’s shoulders. “I am of the opinion that they will think us odd no matter how we look, but this should help.”

Llywelyn surveyed Callum, who clutched the cloak closer around himself, even as it continued to stream river water into the mud at his feet. “Can we continue?” Llywelyn said.

“No time like the present.” I walked forward alone and planted myself in front of one of the bridge’s guards. “Is the Prince of Wales still in residence?” I said, in their version of English, which Callum probably wouldn’t understand any more than he understood our Welsh.

The guard lifted his eyebrows. “They left for London early this morning. What business is it of yours?”

“Prince David is my son.”

The man snorted laughter while the other guard glowered at me. “Madam—”

“I am Marged, the Queen of Wales.” I gestured to the men behind me. “As you can see, the King and I have run into difficulties in joining our son and require assistance.”

Both soldiers had their pikes at the ready, but before they threatened me with them, they looked over my shoulder at Llywelyn, who was by now only a pace behind. For all that he was sopping wet, the fabric of his cloth was still recognizably fine, he wore the crest of Gwynedd on his tunic, and water glistened off the ornate decoration on the hilt of his sword and on his scabbard. An expression of consternation passed across the first soldier’s face as he decided that I could be telling the truth.

He stiffened. “My lord.” He bowed at the waist. “My lady. Please come with me.”

“Geoffrey, wait—!”

The second soldier wasn’t yet convinced, but Geoffrey pressed a hand to his chest and hissed, “What if she’s telling the truth? We’ll let the captain deal with it.”

Geoffrey turned and marched across the bridge in double time. “Make way! Make way!”

We followed.

By the time we arrived on the other side of the river, we had an escort of eight, plus a handful of curious onlookers who’d come out of their homes and workshops to see what all the fuss was about. One of the townspeople bowed as we passed, and several more followed suit. The soldiers led us to the entrance to the castle.

I tucked my hand in Llywelyn’s elbow. “They seem friendly,” I said. “Why are they friendly?”

“I don’t know,” Llywelyn said. “Given that this is their response to us, it warms my heart to think that Dafydd was greeted properly, too.” We had hoped that Bohun would see to that, but David was a Welsh prince—not always the most favorite category of nobleman among the populace of England. One might even venture to say at times it had been the
least
.

“Even if I would have liked to see him, I’m glad to learn that David left this morning as planned,” I said.

“My lord!” A man hustled down the steps of the keep. “You are most welcome here! I am Sir George. If we’d known you were coming …”

He spoke in French, which was helpful, and Llywelyn was able to answer. “Thank you, Sir George. We didn’t know ourselves until recently. There was no time to send word.”

“Of course, my lord.” Sir George eyed us, with a look just short of askance. We were soaked to the skin, unhorsed, and clearly in great need. “Where are your men?”

“We were ambushed not far from here. We are the only survivors,” Llywelyn said, lying through his teeth with an aplomb that had me hiding a grin.

“Lady Mary in heaven!” Sir George had been concerned before, but his solicitousness doubled. “Please come inside!”

“If there was a good place to end up in England, Windsor Castle is clearly it,” Goronwy said, speaking low and in Welsh, so only Llywelyn and I would understand. I didn’t translate for Callum, who appeared almost comatose. I appreciated his shock at finding himself in the Middle Ages. I’d had some hope for him earlier, given his initial joy at the news, but reality appeared to have set in. He had to be thinking that he was stuck here for the rest of his life, and he might be right.
I
certainly wasn’t planning to take him back to his world any time soon.

It seemed that Goronwy was correct about our reception at Windsor Castle. Sir George saw to baths and warm clothes for everyone, including Callum. He also found a maid to help me dress and arrange my hair. Llywelyn returned, looking far too bright-eyed for a man just out of the hospital whose only sleep had been for a few hours in the front seat of a car.

“We should go to David now,” I said. “We still have a few hours of daylight left.”

Llywelyn tipped his head. “Not yet, I think. The wedding is tomorrow. I see no need to throw Bohun and his plans into disarray. And our sudden arrival would, between the political implications and the security involved. As it is, with only one man—well, two, if we count Callum—to attend us, Sir George will have to provide a hurried escort. Tomorrow should be soon enough.”

“You want to appear after the wedding, you mean?” I said.

“Yes. By then, Dafydd might be wishing for my support in dealing with the barons when they meet the next day,” Llywelyn said.

Given the disagreement they’d had at Chepstow, Llywelyn might be right to be wary of interfering with David’s activities, but I didn’t think that things had gotten so bad between them that David wouldn’t want his father with him. Besides, although David didn’t yet know it, Llywelyn had lived a whole lifetime since they’d parted. Llywelyn had already admitted that he’d pressed David too hard, and his joy at having returned to this time was tangible.

The castellan, for his part, hadn’t calmed down. He didn’t seem to know what to do with us. Llywelyn was the King of Wales and thus worthy of reverence, but he was an uninvited guest. Windsor Castle had just played host to David’s entourage, and the servants were still cleaning up after them. Still, he sat with the four of us at the high table and tried to make small talk.

Callum, our wayward addition, stayed close and silent throughout the meal. In fact, I hadn’t heard him do anything more than grunt since we arrived at the castle. He hadn’t asked what had happened to his clothing (Llywelyn had hidden it in a rucksack), and he seemed much diminished, for all that the castellan had rustled him up a complete change of clothing, including a mail tunic. He shifted in his seat beside me, sipping gingerly at the beer a servant had placed in front of him.

I scooted my chair closer and had his instant attention. He regarded me through hazel green eyes, fringed by ridiculously long lashes.

“Talk,” I said. “In some ways, it doesn’t matter now, but I want to know what’s going on back in the twenty-first century—why the pursuit?”

“You have to ask?” Callum leaned forward. “I’m sitting at the high table at Windsor Castle and I don’t even know
when
it is. How could we not have pursued you?”

“But you had no proof that we could travel in time,” I said. “You built your investigation on Ted’s word alone?” I held my breath. It wasn’t like I could help him from here, but I needed to know what they knew about my brother-in-law.

Callum shrugged. “He told his friend, Peter, who told his wife, who happens to be my boss. That was years ago.”

“You’re in MI5?” I said. At his nod, I added, “But surely you dismissed what he said when you learned of it. You had to have.”

“At first,” Callum said. “Not me, of course. I wasn’t involved, but others looked into Peter’s information, which led to new discoveries.”

“What discoveries?”

“Ones that added to—and in truth, lit a fire under—a long-existing project.” He studied my face. “You know about the images, right?”

“Ted said something about satellites.”

Callum sat back in his chair. “That’s right. When Ted first reported your story, Peter pursued it on his own. Given that he worked at Cambridge in astrophysics, he had access to imagery from the nineties, when you came to Wales the first time, as well as to more recent data.”

“I don’t get how our world shifting could be viewed from space,” I said.

Callum hemmed and hawed. “I can’t explain without going into absurd detail, but suffice to say that what you saw on the camera image at the spa—” he nodded at the widening of my eyes, “—yes, we know about that—is only a fraction of what is happening on the subatomic level.”

Great
.

At my sour expression, Callum grinned. “This was only one of twenty-five projects on my desk. When MI5 handed me the portfolio, I thought it was a joke. They sent me to Cardiff—a demotion, mind you—and I’ve been cooling my heels investigating the odd Welsh nationalist group for the last six months.”

“Until Ted called his friend from the airport,” I said.

“Ted deserves knighthood. When Peter let us know where you were—well, it got real exciting, real fast.”

“If what you say is true about the imagery, your people will know we’ve returned to this time.” I bit my lip. “Can they tell how many people came with me so they’ll know where you went?”