Sean Dalton - Time trap

Sir Geoffrey drew rein with visible exasperation. He shot Noel an angry look and shook his head.

When Elena came panting up to them, Sir Geoffrey leaned over from his saddle and spoke before she had a chance: “Go home, you fool!” he said harshly. “Sir Magnin will not see you. He is an important man. He has a thousand details to see to this day, and the next, and for weeks to come. I vow you are too scruffy to catch his eye even were he not thus occupied. Go home.”

She glared at him. “I will go to the castle whether you give me a ride or not.”

“Oh, aye, hike in and present yourself. Look at you,” he said with a derisive gesture. “Ill-clothed, unshod, your hair hanging in your face. You might get inside the gates, but the seneschal won’t give you entry to the hall.”

His words hurt her. Noel could see her flinch although she glared fiercely to hide it.

“I can braid my hair,” she said. “And I have shoes. I shall wear them when I arrive.”

“Do not go to the trouble,” said Sir Geoffrey. “You will be on your back within five minutes of entering the gates.”

“Hey,” said Noel, deciding this had gone on long enough. “She doesn’t-”

“You may not care about a Greek maiden, Lord Theodore,” said Sir Geoffrey with an ascetic frown, “but as a knight I am just as sworn to uphold God’s law as I am to serve Sir Magnin. You know as well as I what will befall a maid like this in the castle. Our men are full of themselves. They had an easy time defeating your men, and the castle fell the hour they surrounded it. They have wenched and wined themselves all night. The townsmen have locked their women safely away, and the tarts left at hand are not enough to go around. A morsel like this, dirty as she is, is just too tempting.”

Noel blinked. This was one aspect of medieval life that he hadn’t considered. But he knew that Sir Geoffrey was absolutely right. The man’s decency surprised him.

“Sir Geoffrey is right,” said Noel, turning his gaze back to Elena. It felt odd to be lecturing her together as though they were colleagues instead of a guard and his prisoner. “It’s for your own safety, Elena.”

She tossed her head. “I can take care of myself. Last winter I killed a wolf while-”

“You cannot kill Sir Magnin’s men,” said Sir Geoffrey. “He would boil you in oil for it. That is the law.”

“Not Milengi law-”

“But Frankish law and Greek law,” said Sir Geoffrey. “Now go home.”

“No,” she said stubbornly. “I want to see Sir Magnin. I do have a message for him, and not the one you so crudely suggested. And as a member of the Milengi tribe, who caught this man when everyone else failed to recognize him, it is my right to see that our interest in him is guarded.”

Sir Geoffrey opened his mouth.

“Sir Magnin could not have done this as easily as you boast without our support,” she said. “If the Milengi think we are being cheated of our ransom, we will not keep our allegiance.”

“It is your brother who should be making those threats, not you,” said Sir Geoffrey.

She shrugged. “My brother has the wits of a log. Yani and I cannot always convince him to act quickly.”

“And are you certain Yani knows what you are doing?”

She shrugged again. “I do not have to answer to you, Sir Geoffrey. Besides, if I ride in with you, no man in the castle will dare touch me. I will be safe. And Sir Magnin’s order is enough to give me protection. But if I have to walk in, whatever happens to me will be on your conscience. Now what do you say?”

Noel started to laugh at the sour look on Sir Geoffrey’s face, but swiftly changed it to a cough. Sir Geoffrey glared at him. He glared at her. Finally he gestured angrily.

“Very well. Get on behind Lord Theodore. I shall take you to Sir Magnin, but if he refuses to see you, little maid, you are on your own. I have other business more important than guarding your chastity, and you are no responsibility of mine.”

She grinned, unimpressed by his threat, and climbed on behind Noel. The saddle kept them separated, but still he found his senses flooded by a lot of girl. Bodily warmth radiated from her. She smelled musky and sweet, all of herbs, woodsmoke, and the outdoors. The narrow cut of her gown made it necessary for her to hike it up to her knees. Noel gazed down at her slim, golden calf and foot dangling just inches from his own leg.

He swallowed hard, intent on controlling his heat. They went bouncing down the trail at that tail-pounding, head-numbing trot, and within minutes Elena’s arms snaked around his middle to keep her balance. He could feel her breasts against his back. The wind blew strands of her hair against his cheek and they felt like twists of silk teasing and stroking his skin. His blood flamed to the boiling point.

“I’m glad you came,” he said to her in a low voice so that Sir Geoffrey could not hear. “You’ve improved what was turning out to be a bad afternoon. How about-”

“You,” she said even lower in his ear, her breath a warm tickle that made his heart pound with pleasure, “are an impostor. George overheard everything that you and Lord Theodore plotted.”

Noel went cold with alarm. When he could find his voice he said, “Hell is too nice a place for George.”

She rested her chin upon the point of his shoulder. “I think he is a very clever dwarf. And Lord Theodore is a very clever governor. You are the fool.”

Noel gritted his teeth. Every bit of attraction she’d held for him vanished. The mule picked its way around a tricky bend in the trail when for a moment they seemed to hang over nothing but air. Noel felt the urge to tip Elena off at that point, but, seething, he curbed it.

“We like this development, however,” said Elena. “Yani and I are pleased because we still have Lord Theodore in our hands in case Sir Magnin decides to trick us. A man who steals another’s castle will steal from his friends as well. You see?”

“I see,” said Noel bleakly. Byzantine intrigue… now he knew why the term originated.

“So we want Sir Magnin to go on thinking you are Lord Theodore. I am along to make sure you do not lose your nerve and confess the truth to him. He is a very intimidating man.”

“I’m not easily intimidated,” said Noel.

He felt the prick of a knife point against his kidney, and stiffened.

“Good,” said Elena, her voice like gold in his ear. “Because I will disembowel you if you betray us. Clear enough?”

“Very clear.”

She laughed, obviously pleased with herself. Noel glowered at his bound hands resting upon the pommel. His knuckles had gone white. Anger blazed through him. He had never felt so damned helpless. Everything, from the moment he stepped through the time portal, had gone totally wrong. Someone unseen and unknown had sabotaged his mission. He was possibly trapped in this time and place for the rest of his life. And now he was being used as a pawn in a local game of politics and war. He wasn’t used to being manipulated. He didn’t like it. He wasn’t going to put up with it any longer.

Ahead, Sir Geoffrey’s attention was centered upon his own mount and the steep dip in the trail. There was no longer a precipice on Noel’s right; the slope remained very steep, but it now looked navigable, if only by a mountain goat.

Not giving himself time to reconsider, Noel leaned forward over the mule’s neck and grabbed the slack lead rope. One quick yank pulled it from Sir Geoffrey’s grasp. The knight glanced back and shouted, but Noel had already turned the mule. He kicked it hard in the flanks, and the startled animal plunged off the trail into a thicket of brush that whipped Noel’s face and arms mercilessly.

The angle was steeper than it had looked from the trail. The mule scrambled and lunged. Finding no bit in its mouth, it stretched out its nose and went where it pleased. Noel found himself pushing against the stirrups and leaning back against Elena to keep his seat. She clutched him and screamed a torrent of Greek in his ear too fast for his translator to handle.