Journey in Time (Knights in Time) (10 page)

She led Eclipse farther into the trees, and then doubled back, a trick she’d seen in an old western movie. They crossed a short rise and stopped behind a rock formation situated below the road. The boulder gave her a partial view of the start point. Secreted, she watched Alex set off.

He cantered the direction she’d taken. She lost sight of him when turned toward the brook, as she had. Where did he go afterward? While Eclipse grazed, she crept to the side and poked her head over a jagged cut in the outcropping.

She shivered in surprised delight when Alex’s warm lips touched her neck. He and Thor managed to sneak up without her hearing either’s footfall on the cushion of leaves.
 

"I carry nothing of value, Sir Highwayman," she whispered as he moved to her nape.

"I'm not that kind of highwayman. And you do have something I value."

He caressed her arms in long, sensuous strokes. One hand journeyed over the bend of her hip and slid along the curve of her belly.

She turned in his arms and closed her eyes loving the hardness of his thighs pressed to hers. His hair tickled her chin as he nuzzled the soft flesh of her jaw line. A whiff of cedar, the hint of bergamot, the dry scent of his aftershave, Paco Rabanne, teased her nose.
 

A hot breeze gusted, whooshed through the trees and stirred a whirlwind of fallen leaves. One of the horses neighed. Her eyes fluttered open. Both animals raised their heads as a flock of birds burst from their shelter. Thor’s ears swiveled in different directions. Eclipse, true to his herd nature, followed the dominant stallion’s behavior and remained alert but quiet.

Alex ignored the blast of heat and wind. The oddity brushed across Shakira’s consciousness only to evaporate as fast as it came, vanquished by the silken feel of his kisses on her throat. Everywhere his mouth touched electrified her skin. She tilted her head back relishing each new sensation, her gaze lazily drifted upward. Orange streaks lined the now blood red sky.

"Alex, look," she pointed.

"I’d rather look at you." He eased her onto a grassy patch. His body covered hers as his hands and lips caressed her.

Thor whinnied long and loud. Shakira moaned and turned her head to the side. Thor danced a semi-circle around the tree he was tied to while his whinnies came non-stop. Eclipse followed suit.

"Alex..."
 

Lightning brightened the sky overhead in waves of blue-white flashes. A strange weightlessness filled her, the same disconcertion experienced when an elevator stops short.

The horses quieted, yet their ears remained pricked forward.

Alex propped himself on his right elbow and studied the forest around them. A little swimmy, Shakira sat up, resting her weight on both hands.

"Ugh, I’m salivating like a Pavlov dog. My mouth hasn’t watered like this since I got tinfoil stuck on a filling. I need one of those dentist’s suction whatnots." She swallowed hard.

"I feel a bit juicy myself."

"Did you get a weird sensation too?" She dabbed away the excess moisture that lingered at the corners of her mouth. Alex continued to scan the immediate area.

"Yeah—curious." Alex ran his hand along the side of her head. "Your hair is sticking out in all directions." They both jerked at the small shock when his finger touched her ear. Undaunted, he smoothed her bangs.

"Yours too,” she said and did the same with the stray strands that lifted from his ponytail. “How strange, like the air has been charged with static electricity."

When she stood, the ground appeared to move as though her depth perception was off. She didn’t see how it could be and stepped forward. Like dream-walking, her foot found air rather than ground. Alex leapt up and caught her as she started to fall.

“Ooh,” she said.

Alex leaned against the rock and held onto her. “Wait, my bearings aren’t right yet either.”

After a minute, he took a test step with no problem. “You should be fine now.”

She laid her hand in his when he reached out to her.

“Let’s get out of the woods onto the open road," he said, brushing the twigs and leaves from the back of her shirt and britches. "The lightning is too close, I don’t want to take any...," his voice trailed off. A dull, rhythmic pounding sounded in the distance.

Shakira wasn’t interested in the sound; her attention drawn upward. "The sky, it’s blue again."

Alex dropped his chin and cocked his head. “Listen.” The thudding became more distinct as it came closer.

"Horses," he said casually, but moved her behind him with a firm touch. "Probably just folks out riding who don't know they’re trespassing. However, it might be fox hunters, and they can be unpleasant. I don’t allow hunters to cross my land. Some of the local gentry see me as the enemy." Alex watched the road as the horses came into sight.

Three riders approached wearing mail and armor with swords at their sides, like medieval knights. Actors? Out here? Were
they shooting a movie on Alex's land without his knowledge
?
She stepped next to him.

Alex stiffened. For a split second he appeared bewildered. “No,” he whispered under his breath. Wide-eyed, unblinking shock replaced his puzzled expression. “No,” he repeated. He turned and said, "Whatever you hear, don't say a word. Say nothing. No matter what, let me do the talking."

Shakira nodded, alarmed at the urgency in Alex’s tone. He shoved her behind him again.

Chapter Twelve

Shakira peered around Alex’s shoulder. The riders stopped in front of them. A ginger-haired, costumed man with a well-trimmed beard bent forward.

"Guy? How is it that you are here? We thought you in Wales on the King's business." He took a long moment to survey Alex. "What manner of clothes are those? Were you set upon and robbed?"

He’s mistaken Alex for someone named Guy. Why was he talking like this was medieval England? Probably some kind of method actor, one of those New York types who believes in immersing himself in the role. What was he doing on private property? Don’t the studios have location people to watch over the cast and keep them out of the path of residents? For a moment, she considered mentioning trespassing laws. Per Alex’s instruction, she kept silent and listened to the bizarre conversation.

Ginger hair, the one she figured for the leader of the group regarded her clothing without comment. His cool, detached study slipped to fleeting disdain when he fixed on her riding pants. His nostrils flared for a fraction of a second and his lips thinned into a sneer. Their eyes locked, but he didn’t acknowledge her in any way. He simply stared.
  

"Simon," Alex greeted the man by name.

Maybe this "Simon" was an Oxford history professor and the other two students. The university wouldn’t allow this type of field exercise without obtaining permission to cross private property. A land use agreement explained Alex’s acquaintance with the man. It still didn’t explain why this Simon called Alex Guy, or why Alex answered to the name or his initial response when he saw the riders.

Goosebumps rose on the back of Shakira’s neck, and an involuntary shudder ran down her spine. Her mother always said "someone just walked across my grave," whenever she experienced one of those weird chills.

Another rider, a sandy-haired, handsome man with rosy cheeks, who appeared a few years younger than the others, nudged his horse closer to Shakira. He didn’t greet her or introduce himself as he inspected her, head to toe, with a puzzled expression. She returned the stare with an equally steady gaze.

"The lad wears strange attire too, although he looks a bit long in the tooth to be addressed as such." He glanced at Alex. "Was he robbed also?"
 

His language, the unusual pattern of speech, sounded similar to Simon’s. Stuffy verbiage aside, she bristled at the comment. Not overly endowed she may be, but she was hardly boyish or long in the tooth. Vanity prevailed over prudence. She moved from behind Alex, tugged the ribbon from her ponytail, and shook her hair loose.

"I am not old, or a lad, stupid git," she snapped and then turned to Alex. "Who are these guys?”
 

“Don’t say another word,” Alex growled and dragged her to his side.
   

"We were both robbed,” he told the knight who insulted her. “This is the Lady Shakira. I am taking her to Elysian Fields. I only need to gather our horses." Alex jerked his chin in the direction of the two Percherons.

The handsome knight stared down his thin nose with distaste that pricked her ire even more. "She has a tart tongue. Does she belong to you?"

"Yes Stephen, she does. I'm afraid the excitement of the robbery has addled her wits."

She couldn’t believe she heard Alex right. “Addled my wits? What are you talking about?”

“Quiet.” His hold on her wrist turned painful. She winced but shut up.

She didn’t know what to make of his strange behavior.
 
Who were these guys? Why would actors or historians provoke such a strong reaction in him? Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Maybe they’re escaped lunatics from a nearby asylum and Alex knows it and is trying to placate them. Where would nutters find such fine horses? They wouldn’t. She resurrected the assumption the knights were actors or Oxford academicians. It made her glad she’d gone to Cambridge.
 

Once Alex claimed her, Stephen averted his eyes and wheeled his horse around. The one called Simon remained rigid in the saddle. Stiff-necked, he tipped his chin down a notch and eyeballed her. She stared back in what she considered a contest of wills. He never blinked, merely shifted his gaze away and picked up his conversation with Alex.

"Haughty dickhead," she muttered.

A firm hand on her lower spine urged her toward Eclipse. "Alex, what is going on?" she asked in a frenzied whisper.
 

"Shh." After they mounted, Alex sidled over, so close their boots touched. "We're riding into a very perilous situation. I’ll explain everything when we’re alone.
Your
life,
my
life," he stressed, "depends on you being quiet till then. Do you think that's possible, because you haven’t done real well so far?" He angled a tight lipped, sidelong glance her way.

Confused, it took a few seconds before she nodded yes.

"No matter what, remember what I told you," he warned and trotted ahead to chat with Simon.

All ignored her.

Chapter Thirteen

Where did an Elysian Fields exist in England? Shakira knew of its origins in Greek mythology, but not anywhere else. Shortly into the ride, the answer loomed before her as a large Norman castle of Cotswold stone appeared. A crenellated curtain wall twenty-feet high and lined with evenly spaced arrow loop windows surrounded the structure. Towers stood at the gated entrance and armed men patrolled the palisades. One shouted from a corner flanking tower announcing their approach.

Alex dropped back to her side. “Remember, not a word.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Give me your watch.”

“Why?” It was her favorite Movado, part of their Museum Collection.