William Wu - Invader

“For the moment, he has agreed to leave. However, this provides us with information. I have not spotted MC 6 yet, but now we know where to look for him.”

“Let’s go,” said Wayne. “Quick, before Hunter sneaks back somehow. He won’t give up for long. Maybe we can just run in and get MC 6 right away.”

“I do not recommend it,” said Ishihara. “In fact, I strongly suggest that we do nothing at the moment.”

“Why?” Wayne demanded. “We know where he is, and he’s not very far away.”

“Gaius was adamant about not allowing anyone to disturb his crews. Some of his men stood behind him, and from their posture I believe they were ready to fight if necessary. They are likely to remain angry.”

“Oh.” Wayne sighed, still looking at the men around the wagons. “I see what you mean. I hate waiting, but if we can’t get to him anyway, then we should lie low. We don’t want to alert Hunter or MC 6 to our presence.”

“In the meantime, we should find a comfortable place under the trees to spend the night.” Ishihara turned and looked down the road the way they had come. “The camp followers have not caught up yet, but they will. When they are nearby, we must avoid direct contact with them, but their campfires will camouflage our own. Hunter and Steve will have no reason to think we are here.”

Jane said nothing. However, the renewed possibility of escaping Wayne and Ishihara gave her a surge of excitement. Later tonight, she would try to get away. For now, lying low suited her just fine.

Harriet spent the evening at Gwenhyvaer’s side. After dinner, they joined the other women by a large fireplace in the main hall drinking mead. The palace seemed empty without the men who had gone with Artorius. Only the boys and the elderly men remained. In the tor around them, a skeletal garrison still guarded the walls, but their real protector had ridden out to meet the enemy in his own land.

The other women talked about the Saxons and how long the men would be gone. Harriet noticed that none talked about which ones would not come home. As the fire burned down, the discussion grew quieter, however. Then, one by one, the other women retired for the night to be alone with their thoughts.

“Are you sleepy?” Harriet asked, when she and Gwenhyvaer were left alone in front of the fire.

“A little.” Gwenhyvaer shrugged. “But I’m wide awake, too.” She gazed into the dwindling flames.

“Shall I put more wood on the fire?”

“No.”

Harriet waited in silence, watching her.

“If Artorius doesn’t come back, I will be nobody,” said Gwenhyvaer quietly.

Harriet wanted to reassure her, to tell her that Artorius would return, but did not dare. A single comforting word might pass as normal, but if Harriet remained in this time for the rest of her life, she would have to learn to keep quiet. The alternative could be gaining, over time, a reputation for knowing the future.

In a superstitious society, knowing the future could make her either a respected wise woman or an evil sorceress, but she would have no control over which one. She would five most comfortably by blending into society, not by standing out. Besides, despite her disbelief in chaos theory, she knew that she really could change the future if she eventually altered the behavior of enough important people.

“If Artorius falls, we are all in trouble,” Harriet said carefully. “But he knows his enemy.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Gwenhyvaer brightened a little. “He’s been fighting the Saxons for a long time.”

Harriet thought again of how young Gwenhyvaer seemed. She reminded herself once more that Gwenhyvaer was a grown woman in this society and almost past her prime marriage years. For that reason, Gwenhyvaer had good reason to be concerned about her future with Artorius.

A woman’s position in this society depended largely on the prestige of her father and her husband. Even worse, the status of men in this time was fluid and uncertain, leaving any particular woman with few good choices. The wealth and social strata of Roman society were gone and the social system of medieval England lay many centuries in the future. Gwenhyvaer knew that if she did not marry well before long, she might have to choose between spending her life as a glorified servant in the palace or marrying a man who rode with Artorius in summer and tended sheep the rest of the year.

“Did your husband ever fight in a war before?” Gwenhyvaer asked. “Did you worry about him all the time?”

“He never fought in a war,” said Harriet.

“Really? He’s so big. He would make a good warrior. Why didn’t he?”.

Harriet suppressed a smile, thinking of the First Law. She also realized she would have to embellish the story of her life with Hunter a little in order to answer. “When the Saxons drove us out of Linnuis, on the coast, we had no army left in the area to join. And if he had gone to find Artorius farther inland, I would have been abandoned.”

“I see,” said Gwenhyvaer. “That’s when he took you with him to Gaul.”

“That’s right.”

“I hope I get married soon.” Gwenhyvaer turned from the fire to Harriet. “Did you get married young?”

“Well…yes.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m forty.”

Gwenhyvaer straightened in surprise, her eyes wide. “What? Are you joking with me?”

“No. I’m not joking.” Harriet smiled at her surprise, knowing that the average life expectancy here was in the early forties, due to the stresses of physical labor, limited diet, and the lack of medical knowledge and dental care. “I’m forty years old.”

“But…you have all your teeth.” Gwenhyvaer looked at her mouth again, making sure.

Harriet laughed lightly. “Yes, I do.” She shrugged. “I’ve been fortunate.”

“But you just don’t look that old. I thought you were…oh, I don’t know.” Gwenhyvaer stared at her face.

Harriet knew that a few individuals lived into their sixties and seventies even in this century, but Gwenhyvaer had good reason to be shocked. Most of the women Harriet’s age in this time did look much older. The women she resembled most were closer to thirty.

“Can you…I mean, when I get older, can you help me look that way?”

“I don’t have any secrets. If I did, I would be glad to share them. But I don’t.”

Gwenhyvaer nodded slowly and turned to gaze into the fire again.

Long after dark, Jane lay under the stars wrapped up in her blanket. She knew from Wayne’s slow, rhythmic breathing that he had fallen asleep. Of course, Ishihara remained alert. She hoped that because she had made no move to escape, he had not focused his attention on her.

She knew that if she prepared herself to make a move, perhaps by taking several deep breaths and shifting her position, Ishihara would hear the difference. That would cost her any element of surprise. Her best chance was to move impulsively, so she did.

All at once, she flung off the blankets, scrambled up, and ran in the faint moonlight toward the camp.

“Hunter! ’ She screamed as loud as she could. “It’s Jane! Hunter! Here!”

Footsteps, certainly Ishihara’s, sounded behind her, gaining fast.

“Hunter!”

“Hey! Get her!” Wayne yelled sleepily.

Before she could shout again, she stumbled on the uneven sod, losing speed. Ishihara’s footsteps come right up behind her and she felt a firm hand grasp her arm.

Ahead of her in the camp, startled voices spoke in puzzled tones, probably sentries.

In another moment, Ishihara slipped one arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground. He moved his other hand from her arm to cover her mouth with his hand. Jane squirmed, trying to shout for Hunter again.