Journey in Time (Knights in Time) (33 page)

"Most are busy with their duties. You don't hear them because they don't speak," Turcotte said.

"Wha--what do you mean they don't speak? Is it because they can't speak or just don't speak?"
Oh please, let them be mutes
.

"They choose not to."

"They've taken a vow of silence?"

"No, but as a Cistercian Order, we believe one should have a reason to talk. Functional communication for work or in community dialogues, spiritual exchange, and the rare conversation on special occasions are examples." The abbess trained analytical blue eyes on Shakira.

"You do realize Lady Guiscard, you too, would be expected to hold to this practice if the Hailes is to be your home."

Un-bloody-believable
. She’d have laughed if it wasn’t so perverse. She, a lawyer, a member of the most talkative group on the planet, and she picked this place.

"Don't worry Abbess. I shall endeavor to fit in, should I decide to reside here."

"I cannot help but question why you seek a religious life. If your husband is not cruel, and he doesn't suffer any deformity that would prevent..." Shakira waited while Turcotte sought a diplomatic phrase. "...the marriage bed from being used. Why do you wish to leave?"

"The king isn't in favor of this marriage. An annulment might be in my husband's best interest." Even a sheltered nun should understand the politics of monarchy.

Turcotte nodded in understanding, "One way or another a king's desire will prevail."

Chapter Forty

Alex trailed a finger along Shakira’s wet skin, grazing the warm flesh of her breast and leaving a path in the soap foam as it traveled toward a submerged nipple.

"You don't look much like a penitent to me. You're temptation incarnate. I'd be surprised if there wasn't a run on hair shirts after you left the good monks." He entertained the idea of joining her in the tub, but the delightful prospect had to wait. They needed to talk. Reluctantly, he ceased teasing the pearled nub.
 

"I don't go as a penitent. I go to pay my respects as the local lord's wife and to show your villeins I'm not a pagan."

"You worry too much about what the villagers and servants think. How much did the abbess ask for? The church’s appetite for money is insatiable." He extended a hand to help Shakira up so she could rinse off. "You'll never see any abbot or abbess at manual labor. They need both hands, one to wave the cross, and one to beggar with."

Alex poured a pail of water over Shakira's back then kissed the indention at the base of her spine. He helped her from the tub and dried the places hard to reach. He also dried some that weren't hard to reach but were immensely enjoyable to fondle.

"Every time they see me, I'm bedeviled with tales of crumbling walls, or roofs, or steps. Of course, an infusion of largesse from me would earn endless novenas on my behalf." Alex kissed her shoulder.

Shakira wrapped the linen turban style around her hair and snuggled against him. His train of thought momentarily derailed.

"Now you're bedeviling me. I'm loath to say stop. But, we have to talk. If you stay as you are, you'll get nothing but gibberish from me. Here--" He handed her a robe. "How about you stay naked under this and cover the fun bits until we’re done?"

"Sure?"

"No, right now I'm not sure of my name." Alex filled two goblets with wine and handed one to Shakira, eyeing how the robe fell open as she sat. In twenty minutes or so, she’d get her brains screwed out and those legs turned to Jell-O.

"In answer to your question, Abbess Turcotte didn't specify an amount. I made an offering of a couple of marks," she said and slid back in the chair so the robe parted further. "As to the village folk, maybe my faith will never be an issue. Just in case, I'll take the extra precaution. I don't want to wind up on a pile of lit kindling."

"Understandable." Alex sat and rolled the goblet between his palms. He didn't want to panic Shakira, but time was a critical issue now. "The prince has joined with our Gascon allies in Bordeaux. His men have made incursions into the French provinces. We need--"

"What do you mean?" Shakira interrupted. "They can't already be engaged in the campaign. You said you'd go after Yuletide. That's weeks away."

     
"Edward went over right after we left London. The end of December is when the rest of the army is to sail. I hoped we’d have found our way back weeks ago." Alex continued to roll the chalice between his palms, refusing to let his worry show. "Now, I hope we're out of here by my birthday."

     
She absorbed the information in silence, which surprised him. Alex expected alarm or greater concern.

"Your birthday, when's your birthday?"

     
"November seventeenth. Why?"

     
"That only gives me a week to get you a present. Why didn't you tell me?"

     
"In the greater scheme of things, I didn't think my birthday important." A sudden twinge of guilt passed over him. He'd never bothered to ask Shakira when her birthday was.

"When you've roamed the earth for six centuries, certain events lose their luster. Don't concern yourself with a gift, unless it's a divining rod that can locate the time portal."

     
"I should've known you were a Scorpio, filled with a primal passion, ruled by the warrior God, Mars. Interesting." She peered up at him through dark lashes in deliberate flirtation.

     
"You're making it very hard to stick to the topic, and that's not all you're making hard," Alex said. "I need you to be serious, Rocky."

     
"I know you’re trying to deal with the gravity of our situation," she said and stopped flirting. "But I don’t have your courage. I feel so worn down by everything sometimes I can’t bear to hear more. It’s easier for me to visualize the problem in small increments of time, or I'm overwhelmed." She pulled the towel from her head and finger combed her hair, "If we don't get through by your birthday, we still have five weeks."

     
"No, we don't."

She stopped combing and the color drained from her face.

"The king expects his nobles with their men and provisions, me included, in London two weeks prior to departure. We only have three weeks from my birthday."

     
"Only three weeks," she whispered.

     
“We need to be away from here at least a week before I’m due to report. When I don’t show, the king will send Roger Fulke here because he knows this area well. Once Fulke finds me gone, he and his men will fan out in search of me.”

The mention of Fulke left a bad taste in his mouth. Neither liked the other and only tolerated each other at the king’s insistence. Fulke would relish hunting Alex.

“I’ve ridden with Fulke. He travels light and fast. He’ll bring extra mounts so he can change horses and limit his rest time,” Alex said. “We’ll need every minute of a week’s start to stay ahead of him.”

“I understand. I just didn’t anticipate all this happening so quickly.”

Shakira tried to act calm and unruffled but he saw the fear in her eyes.

"Don’t think about the timeframe right now. Let's go over what we remember about the day we were caught in the time warp or portal, whatever."

“Again?”

“Yes, something triggered the portal. We’ve missed a clue.”

"Maybe," she said.

"There's the outcropping, though I can't imagine what properties the rock contains that sent us here." Alex tried to think of some means a slab of granite might be the source. Nothing came to him. It had to be something else. "The weather was sunny by us except for the brief lightning storm."

"Don't forget the charge in the air," she reminded him.

"Okay, so we've got rock, static electricity, flashes of lightning, but otherwise sun."

"And the bizarre red sky."

"I don’t recall the color of the sky."

"I pointed out the weirdness, but you didn’t pay attention," she said.

"I was preoccupied as I recall."

"It’s probably a non issue anyway. The color returned to blue after a few minutes."

They drank in silence for awhile.

He gave a heavy sigh. "I’m at a complete loss. After you’re dressed we’ll go there. Maybe something will come to us, one viable theory.”

If nothing changed, he had a lot to get done within the next few weeks to prepare for the worst. He needed to check out an old family holding in Wales, near Portmeirion, a gift from Edward the First to his grandfather. Well situated, close to the Irish Sea, his father saw the property years ago and pronounced it a good piece of land--workable. That's what they’d do, work the land and raise sheep. He’d hide his family from the English court.
My family.
He smiled, liking the sound of it. Once, the idea held no appeal. When had things changed?
 

He gazed over at his wife.
My wife.
She sipped her wine and stared up at him, doe eyed. He should tell her about his contingency plan
.
Those long legs crossed and exposed flesh all the way to the dark patch between them.
Later.

***

Disheartened by another failed attempt, Alex enjoyed a moment’s reprieve from the disappointment. He relaxed in the saddle admiring Shakira. The hood of her cloak thrown back she continued to surround the granite adversary. Late morning fog clung to the ground, resistant to the sun's attempt to dispel it. The bluish-white mist swirled around the bottom of her skirts. He didn't believe in faeries, or witches, or goddesses come to earth. He did believe the woman in front of him was the closest he'd ever get to an ethereal being.

 
    
"I swear if I circle this boulder one more time, I'll turn to butter," she said.

With a mighty growl, she threw her hands up and shook her fists. She cursed, beating the rock with flat palms, time and time again.

"I give up."

He dismounted and joined her. "The answer's here, Rocky--has to be." Alex stood motionless as a statue. Hands clasped behind his back, he faced the stone as if willing it to open up like a fortune cookie. "I hate this. I hate being in the dark, stymied. Why couldn't I have been a scientist, instead of a music producer?"

Shakira removed her leather gloves and rubbed his shoulders, pressing deep with her thumbs. "Stop. This isn’t your fault. I don't know if scientists are any better informed than we are. If they knew how time portals worked, this spot would’ve been sealed off years ago. This is probably some weird convection of elements."

He dropped his chin so she could massage the stiffness from his neck.

"I’m still not convinced the weather didn’t play a role. You said lightning storms didn’t hit this area," Shakira said.

"I said lightning storms are rare, not that they never occur. Nor have I ever heard of folks disappearing after one."

"The fact you never heard of it happening doesn’t mean it hasn’t. Strangers might’ve gone missing a bunch of times without you knowing. Others stuck like us, people from the future even."

"Sure, and maybe Merlin wasn’t really a wizard. Maybe he was an astronaut. When he couldn’t find the passage home either, he painted himself blue and thought he’d go with the flow."