A Fall Through Time (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #1) (15 page)

In the year, thirteen-seventy-six, the Black Prince, Edward Plantagenet, first son of King Edward III died.  Eric was with him at the end.  The prince was placed on a couch to say good-bye as friends and acquaintances passed by.  Stacey didn’t go to London with Eric. Giles came and they went together. Lady Katherine came and spent time with Stacey and the children.

The next year, thirteen-seventy-seven, King Edward III died.  His ten year old grandson, Richard, the only son of the black prince was crowned King Richard II.  His uncle, John of Gaunt, became his adviser. Once again, the Earl of Dun-Raven went to London to attend a royal funeral.  Stacey didn’t accompany him this time either as she was pregnant once again. Eric had sworn he would not get Stacey pregnant again, but Stacey and nature won out.  A son was born on October eighteenth,-seventy-seven, with little or no trouble. They named him, Brandon Edward.  Eric was proud of himself; birthing was becoming easier for him.  He told Stacey, “I am getting very good at this. I may become a mid-wife.”

“Darling, I know you’d be a good one and I’m sure all the ladies would come to you, however, have you thought about what you’ll be facing?”  Stacey asked, teasingly.

Eric thought about it and said, “Ye be quite right, my love. I do not believe I would want to face any woman other than ye.”

***

T
he years went by more or less peacefully in their part of England. The children were healthy and a few changes accepted. Janet was now the head mistress of a small girl’s school. Eric had a small building erected for that purpose. He knew his own daughters would need it in a year or so.  Although his children lived a privileged lifestyle, he wanted their eyes open to how people lived who were less fortunate than they were. Eric had learned from his democratic wife, that it was necessary for the privileged few to care for and help others whenever possible. Their children could not help but see how the village children lived.  Instead of looking down on them, their mother stressed the need for understanding and giving help, when help would be accepted. The villeins might be poor, but they were proud. Stacey tried to give medical help to the village people as often as she could.

The children were her priority.  Most of them were expected to work to help their families, but her ladyship often asked the parents to let the younger ones come to the castle to play or go berry picking.  Stacey was always trying to find ways to get them away from their hard drab lives. Eric tried to make her understand that to raise the peasants too far above their station was to cause anarchy.  It was difficult for Stacey to grasp the class system until Eric asked her pointblank, “Do ye want our sons or daughters to marry someone from the village?”

“No, of course not,” she admitted, “however, someday I would hope there will not be such a class system. I want all these children to have the same opportunity for an education as our children do, if not now someday in the future. Stacey tried her best to help the village people to understand about sanitation, but most of them saw no need.  It had always been this way, so why change. Yet there was one change in the Dun-Raven domain that both peasant and aristocracy was in favor of doing.  That was the smoking of the beehives to gather the honey and honeycomb.  No longer was it necessary to kill the bees to harvest the honey.  Changes came slowly, but come they did, mostly from the young as they matured.

The Fostering

I
n August of the year, thirteen-seventy-eight, Shane turned seven. He was an intelligent, happy child. He and his father were very close. Eric often took his son hunting with him.  Hawking was their favorite hunt. Shane had his own sparrow hawk. They also enjoyed hunting with the hounds. The kennels housed greyhounds as well as basset hounds. Basset hounds were a favorite. Trixie’s puppies were all grown now with litters of their own. They were honey and brown in color. They were heavy-set dogs brought to England by returning crusaders, along with many different goods, like all kinds of spices, nuts, white loafsugar, figs, dates, many different types of fruit, eastern dyes, Saracens and Persian carpets and new paper as well as parchment.  From Syria came beautiful glass vessels with silks and satins from the east.

Shane was only interested in the mews and kennels until two seven year olds from good houses came to Dun-Raven to be fostered. Shane wanted to be fostered also. His mother said, “Ye can learn from ye Papa.”

Shane had stopped calling Eric Dada sometime back. He had asked for permission to call his father Papa, because other boys his age called their fathers Papa. Eric told him it would be an honored for him to call him Papa that Papa was what he had called his own father.

Stacey didn’t stick her nose into this. She knew it was out of her league, nor did she object when the children said ye instead of you. Stacey knew her little man was growing up and there wasn’t a darn thing she could do about it. Stacey had finally stopped running and fearing storms. She felt this was where she was meant to be.

Shane didn’t give up easily. He kept pestering his mother to let him be fostered.

“Baby, you’re only seven,” his mother reminded him.

“Mother, I know how old I am. Jack and Wade are seven and they be fostered here.” 

“Okay, I tell you what, we will compromise. You can go to Hampton keep and be fostered there. Your uncle Rodric will be happy to train you and your Aunt Callie will look after you. Your cousin Tommy is there, he’s just a few years younger than you.”

“No, Mother, I can not be fostered there they be close family.”

“That’s the whole idea,” Stacey said. “Your father was fostered there, why can’t you be?”

“Because they were not his close relations then,” Shane replied.

Stacey was at a loss for words so she said, “Well, you have an answer for everything don’t you, mister smarty pants?” 

“Mother, I don’t mean to make ye angry,” Shane said.

Stacey took her son in her arms and said, “Darling, I’m not angry, I just don’t want to lose you.” 

With Shane’s seven-year-old logic, he said, “But Mother, ye have the twins and the new baby.” 

“Yes I know, but you were my first baby and I would miss you terribly. You would be so far away I wouldn’t be able to hold you in my arms and kiss you goodnight.  What if you became ill and I wasn’t there.” 

Shane hugged his mother and said, “I understand Mother, but I’m growing up and ye must learn to let me go.” 

Stacey heard the baby crying and told him, “We’ll talk more about this later.”

Shane went straight to his father and said, “Papa please, ye must speak with Mother.  She does not understand that we be men of our time. I want to be fostered out and not to close relatives.  Someday I will be a leader of men; they will not follow me if they do not respect me. I need to earn their respect and I can not do that by being coddled by people who love me.”

Eric was not surprised when Shane came to him asking for his help. He had been mentioning being fostered out ever since the two young lads had arrived. Eric knew Stacey wasn’t about to let her son leave home so young.  After Shane came to him, his father said, “I understand, son.  I will speak with

ye mother this very night, I promise.” 

“Be easy, but firm with her Papa. I know she loves me.”

That night after the children were all fed and in bed, Eric took Stacey in his arms and told her what Shane had said to him. “Sweetheart, he knows who he is and who he will be someday,” Eric said. “It will take much training, determination and perseverance to become the man he wants to be. He be ye son Stacey, he be as stubborn as ye be. Bye the bye, have ye said anything to him about ye time?”

“Good lord, no,” Stacey said. “Why do you ask?” 

“It surprised me when he said, “We be men of our time.”

“Mayhap he has overheard us at some time,” Stacey said. “We must be more careful in the future. For the children to know would be dangerous.”

Eric and Stacey made a united front and talked with their son. They told him that if he would be patient until his next birthday, they would arrange for him to be fostered to the house, of the Duke of York.

“That will be acceptable, Papa.  Thank ye and thank you Mother,” Shane said. 

He hugged his father and then his mother.  He said, “Don’t worry Mommy, I will not get hurt or sick. I will make you proud of me.”

Stacey held back her tears and told her son, “My darling, I’ve always been proud of you.”

In late August of the following year, the Earl of Dun-Raven took his oldest son to be fostered to the house of the Duke of York, his liege lord. The twins were a hand full. They were now five and Brandon was two. Shane was home for Yuletide.

Rodric and Callie with their two children, Tommy and Katie, came for a Yuletide visit. Lady Margaret and Lord Thomas spent the winter at Hampton hall; Lord Thomas was not well. In the spring of the next year, Stacey knew she was pregnant again.  She and Eric had tried several things to keep this from happening, but happen it did.  She was more than a little concerned. Her morning sickness was more severe than with any of her other pregnancies. This one would be another October baby.

Rolf had been Shane’s constant companion since he was big enough to crawl.  When Shane left for York, Rolf came back to sleep at the foot of Eric and Stacey’s bed.  He was very old now and the twins played with the other dogs more than they did with Rolf. They said that he was old and grumpy. As Stacey’s pregnancy advanced, she noticed that Rolf would go over to the cradle and look in.  One day Stacey said, “Be patient, Scooby. Soon there’ll be another baby there.”

***

T
he next morning, when Eric got up he found Rolf dead at the foot of the bed.  Brother Patrick conducted a funeral service for him in the chapel at Dun-Raven. He was buried in the family crypt in the old Norman church with the rest of the FitzMorgan families. Rolf was not just a dog; he was part of the family. After the funeral service at Dun-Raven, the mourners walked behind the wagon with Rolf in a pine box to the crypt in a foggy misty rain.  This was the first real sadness the children had experienced. Stacey cried as well as the children did. Scooby had been a special friend to her. She remembered how he had accepted her right from the beginning when she arrived at the castle. It was going to be difficult living without him, but that was something they would have to do. Death was a part of living and it would come to all of us eventually.

As Stacey’s pregnancy progressed, they followed the usual routine. Stacey was now thirty-one and Eric forty-three. Stacey’s labor was long and painful. She told Eric, “I’m getting too old for this.” 

Eric laughed and said, “I have not noticed ye be too old for what causes this.”  Stacey grabbed Eric’s hand as another strong contraction hit. In the wee hours of the morn, a baby daughter was born on October fourteenth, thirteen-eighty.  They named her Cassandra Anne FitzMorgan. Eric and Stacey had no way of knowing that this tiny baby girl would be their last child and their hope for the future.

The Growing Up Years

T
he years went by as time does. Stacey had learned to curb her tongue a bit. She saw how easy it was to be brought up on blasphemy charges. Not wanting her children to feel different, she and Eric took them to mass each Sunday at the old Norman church.  The rest of the time, they attended the chapel at Dun-Raven. Brother Patrick was a good man. He was patient with the fostered children as well as her own. Stacey taught her children as much as she dared. Brandon celebrated his eight birthday and fostered at the Duke of York’s. Stacey knew the rules now, therefore she didn’t fight it when Brandon reached his eighth year and joined his brother.

King Richard was a strong-minded young man. On July thirteenth, thirteen-eighty-one, when he was fourteen and the peasants revolted, he met with them the next day on July fourteenth, at Moorfield.  He made promises he had no intentions of keeping. He deceived them into thinking; he would help them and then had them maliciously slaughtered. Their demands to end serfdom were not unreasonable, but their choice of leader was. Most of the peasants went home after the first meeting.  History would show that some of the peasants were in the wrong also when they broke into the Tower of London and killed the Archbishop along with some other officials. Stacey knew this was coming, but could do nothing about it other than to discourage their people from join the group.

In a few short years, King Richard II would rid himself of his uncle, John of Gaunt. The people in the north heard John was in Spain asking for the hand of a Spanish princess. John was from the house of Lancaster; therefore, there was much speculation and gossip when Shane and Brandon came home for a few days.  The house of York and the house of Lancaster were cousins, but they did not get along. Stacey told both of her sons, “Do the best you can to stay out of the differences between those two houses.”

“Mother, how do ye expect us to do as ye bid when York be our liege lord?”  Shane asked. He was amazed how his mother thought he could shirk his responsibility to York.

“I don’t know,” his mother said. “Just try to stay out of their disagreements.” 

The boys looked to their father. “Let us take the birds and go hunting,” Eric said.

“Papa, does Mother still think she can see the future?” Brandon asked.

Eric was shocked and said, “God’s teeth, where did ye get that idea son?”

“Papa, we have heard talk all of our lives,” Brandon said. “Some said our mother came in on a whirlwind, while others said she be a maid from across the sea. When we asked Mother, she always said that she couldn’t remember.”

“Which be the truth Papa?” Shane asked.

Eric, visibly shaken, asked, “Did we come out here to hunt or talk nonsense?”

Eric’s sons knew their father well enough to know they would get nothing more from him. The children had talked among themselves many times trying to figure out why their mother seemed a bit strange compared to other mothers, but they loved her and would want no other. As the children grew, they rode hawking or hunting with the hounds along with their parents. One summer, the earl of Dun-Raven took his family on a voyage of the Mediterranean Sea aboard the sailing ship African Queen that belonged to Ahab, the Arab trader.