A Fall Through Time (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #1) (3 page)

“What be ye doing?” his lordship asked.

“I’m gonna’ earn my keep while I’m here,” Stacey said.

“What do ye mean by that?” he asked. 

“Nothing, just chalk it up to I’m passing strange, okay.”

Stacey asked Rodric, “Please show me the way to the kitchen.” 

The kitchens were downstairs.  Stacey asked to speak with the cook.  The cook was apprehensive and kept looking at Rodric.

“Do not become alarmed, Alice.  Miss Stacey asked to make ye acquaintance,” Rodric assured her.

Stacey put out her hand and said, “How do you do, Alice? My name is Stacey. I wanna’ thank you for that wonderful breakfast, it was delicious.”

Alice smiled at Rodric and he smiled back at her.  Alice said, “Tis most welcome ye be, miss.”  Alice was quite taken-a-back.  Never had the earl’s guests or any of his family, for that matter, sought her out to thank her or had ever complimented her on her cooking.  Alice decided immediately, that she liked this young woman who spoke strangely.

Next Stacey asked Rodric, “Who is the Chatelaine of the castle?” 

“Lady Katherine,” he said, a bit bewildered.

When Stacey spoke with Lady Katherine, she said, “I must need speak with his lordship, Miss Stacey.” 

Stacey turned to Rodric and said, “Good god, do you need to ask permission from him to breathe in this place?”  Both Rodric and Lady Katherine smiled at her remark.

Rodric told Stacey, “I must inquire into what I can do about the use of horses. I will see ye later.”

When Stacey came downstairs, Scooby was waiting.  She looked around and asked, “How did you slip away from black beard?  You must be a Houdini. Let’s go outside, okay?” 

Stacey was walking around the grounds looking at the castle.  The bailey was quite large.  She had read about castles, however, never expected to be inside a real live working one. Not one in the thirteen hundred’s anyway.

She was wandering around looking at everything when Rodric found her and said, “Come, I have a surprise for ye.” As they headed to the stables he asked, “Do ye ride?”

“Yes, of course,” Stacey said.

“That be good, we can ride to the meadow, however, we must take a knight with us.”

“That’s fine by me,” Stacey said. “We can take the whole dang legion if that’s what he wants.”

Stacey picked out a big horse and had a saddle on him in no time.  When Rodric noticed she sat astride a stallion and not a palfrey, he said, “Eric not be going to like this.” 

“That’s tough,” Stacey said. “If we hurry he’ll never see us.”

She was wrong.  He did see them, but the portcullis was up and they were through and on their way before he could stop them. The earl was watching and said to himself, she may think she has won this round; however, I will be ready for the next one. It was a beautiful day and Stacey was enjoying the freedom of a fast horse between her knees.  She was surprised to find a medieval saddle was similar to the western saddle, which she had grown up using.  When they reached the pristine meadow, it still looked as she remembered, and the rune stone was the vocal point of where she wanted to look.

Stacey was running her fingers over the markings when Rodric asked, “Have ye seen stones like these before?” 

“Oh, yes,” Stacey said. 

“Where did ye see them?” he asked.

“I don’t remember,” she said, guardedly.

“Of course ye do. It be not necessary to lie to me, Stacey.”

Stacey felt guilty about lying to Rodric, however, she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth, so she said, “I really don’t want to lie to anybody, but sometimes you don’t have a choice.” 

“Mayhap when ye know me better, ye will trust me.”

“Mayhap,” Stacey said. 

Rodric smiled at her use of ‘mayhap.’ Stacey was walking around the stone when he asked, “What be this stone?”

“It’s a Viking rune stone.”

“Do ye understand the markings?” he asked. 

“Yes, well, some of them.”

“What do they say?” 

“I can’t read it all.  This part says, ‘The hammer of Thor,’ and this says, ‘Valhalla.’ That’s all I can make out the stone is so weathered. I do know Valhalla is the Norse word for heaven.” 

“How be it that ye know this much?”

“I’ve studied the old Viking civilization and I’ve read the Anglo Saxon chronicles,” Stacey explained.  “Viking is an old Norse word meaning voyager or wanderer.  One of the first raids recorded was off the coast of Wessex, in the year seven-hundred-eighty-seven A.D.”

“Yes, I know. I have read the chronicles of which ye speak. It be a collection of early historical text first assembled around eight-hundred-seventy A.D.”

“Yes, your right. I believe, if memory serves the last battle between the Vikings and Anglo Saxons was the battle at Stamford Bridge, about 12 miles or so east of York, in the year 1066 A.D. You do know your English history, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. “That be the year William of Normandy conquered England.” 

“Yes it was,” Stacey said, “however, it might have been different if king Harold of the Saxons had not of had to fight and beat the Vikings, then immediately head south to fight William of Normandy in the south of England in ten-sixty-six A.D.  It was just too much for the Saxons.”

“Ye know much of English history,” Rodric said, suspiciously.

“That’s because I can read,” Stacey said, realizing she had said too much.

“That be good; most women can not read at all.” 

“That’s because your society prefers to keep women ignorant. I bet your mother reads, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes, but my mother be a noble woman.” 

“What about Lady Katherine?”

“Yes, of course, she can read.  She be the wife of Sir Giles.  He be my brother’s second in command.”

“How be it ye can read, Stacey? The truth please,” Rodric said. 

Stacey was quiet for some time and then said, “I’m an archaeologist.” 

“What be this archaeologist?” He asked, baffled by the word.

“An archaeologist is a person that excavates studies and learns about ancient civilizations,” Stacey explained.

“Be this what ye be doing in London?” he inquired.

“Yes it was,” Stacey said. “You’re awfully perceptive.” 

“May I tell Eric?”

“I would rather you didn’t.  He might use it against me, but I’ll not ask you to keep a secret not yet, anyway.”

As they rode along in companionable silence, Stacey asked, “How old are you, Rodric?”

She remembered that young men were considered grown at a much younger age in the Middle Ages than in the 21
^st
century.  

“I will be eighteen the first of next month,” he said. “There will be a party. Ye are welcome to attend, if ye wish.” 

“Thank you; if I’m still here I will attend.” 

“Do ye think you will be leaving?”

“I don’t know,” Stacey said, “and that is the truth.”

As they rode back to Dun-Raven Stacey was awed by the beauty of the countryside.  As they neared

Dun-Raven castle, Stacey caught her breath and said, “Oh, my god, Camelot could not have been more beautiful.” 

Rodric was surprised and asked, “How be it ye know of Camelot?” 

“I read, remember?”  

Confused, Rodric said, “But ye be not English.” 

“Did I say I was English?  I can read Latin, but I’m not from Rome.  Now, tell me about Dun-Raven.  How long has it been here and who is your king now?”

“Our king be Edward III.  The castle has been here well over a hundred years or more.  Eric’s ancestor, Rollo FitzMorgan, came with William the Conqueror. Eric’s father, Geoffrey FitzMorgan, died of wounds that he received while fighting in Scotland. Eric was only twelve and still fostered to Hampton keep.  His uncle Hugh took over Dun-Raven, but when Eric was fourteen, he gathered an army and with the help of my father, he took back what was rightfully his. He sent his uncle to live at Finwick castle where he could keep an eye on him and his treacherous ways. For more information, ye must need to ask Eric.  I know more about Hampton keep than Dun-Raven.  I will be the Earl of Hampton someday, but not too soon, I pray.”

“You’re a nice kid,” Stacey said. “You’re much nicer than your brother.” 

Rodric smiled at Stacey and said, “I am not a child, Stacey.  I am a man full grown.” 

Stacey laughed and said, “Yes, sir.  I stand corrected.

The Misunderstanding

W
hen they arrived back at the castle, it was mid-afternoon. As they came around the side of the castle, Stacey told Rodric, “I will help with the horses, but first I need to go to the lavatory.”

“No, ye will not be allowed to help.  That be the duty of the groomsmen.” 

“If that’s so, where were they when we saddled up?”

“I be not sure, Stacey but I do know they have much to do. They be good hard working men otherwise they would answer to Eric.”

“Sorry,” Stacey said, “I’m sure they are and I didn’t mean to imply they weren’t. Please forgive my rudeness, but I’ve still gotta go to the lavatory.”

Stacey didn’t see the earl by the doorway as she started inside. He said, “Stop wench.  I would speak with ye.” 

“Okay, in just a minute,” Stacey said. “I’ll be right back.”  As he was coming towards her, she put both of her hands behind her and was backing away from him. Again, she said, “I really need to go.  I’ll be right back, I promise.”

The lord of Dun-Raven said, “Ye will go when I say ye can go.  I will speak with ye now.”

“Are you deaf or something?” Stacey said. “I’m telling you I need to go to the garderobe.”  That stopped him dead still and his face suffused with color.  Stacey saw his color change and knew he was angry, but she couldn’t worry about that now; she needed to pee.

After washing her hands and face, she was on her way back downstairs, when Lady Margaret asked her to step into her solar for a minute.  She said, “I understand our ways and customs be new to ye, Miss Stacey, but ye must not embarrass his lordship in front of his men.” 

Stacey was shocked and asked, “And how did I do that?” 

“By saying you needed the garderobe,” Lady Margaret replied.

Stacey looked at her in disbelief, “Is that why he turned so red, doesn’t he know women need to urinate the same as men?” she asked. “Well, I told him I would be back and that I needed to go. Why didn’t he leave me alone?”  Instead, he said, “Ye can go when I say ye can go,” Stacey mimicked, then took a deep breathe rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll go apologize to him.”

Stacey found his lordship in his parlor speaking with Rodric.  When Rodric saw Stacey, he excused himself and said, “I will come back later.” 

“No, Rodric, please stay, I may need a witness.” 

Stacey smiled at the earl and said, “Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your employees, but I did tell you I would be back and that I had to go.  I know our English is a little different, but good god man... Oh, sorry... Okay, how about this. Thank you for the use of your horses. That was very generous of you.  Plus, thank you for your warm (no that’s going too far) for your hospitality.”

While Stacey was babbling on telling him this, she was standing just inside the door, with her hands behind her back.  With a frown on his brow the earl asked, “What do ye hold behind ye back, wench?” 

“Nothing,” she said. “and don’t call me a wench.” 

“Show me ye hands, wench,” the earl demanded.

Stacey turned to Rodric. He said, “Show him, Stacey.”

“No, it’s none of his darn business.” 

Eric stood up, dropped his pen on the table with a loud thud and said, “Nay, miss, everything and everyone in this keep be my business.”

“Well, I’m not your business,” Stacey said, and out the door she went.

Eric started after her, but Rodric said, “No, Eric, I will tell ye what she does not wish ye to see.”

Rodric also told him about Stacey reading the rune stone and her being an archaeologist and he explained, “That be the word for people who study and excavate ancient civilizations.”

“Why be she here?  I have not felt ancient in days,” Eric said, jovially. 

Rodric laughed and said, “I do not know, brother. I do not believe she knows either. I believe her when she says that she does not know how she came to be here.” 

Eric changed his tone of voice and said, “By all that be holy, I do not believe the wind blew her here.”

Stacey didn’t go where she might run into the earl.  She spent much time in the kitchens talking with Alice and some with the gardener.  She was trying to think what questions her mom would ask if she were here. Stacey’s mom is a registered nurse with a Ph.D. in ancient history and herbal medicinal remedies. Her mom and dad had honeymooned in China while her mom was studying ancient Chinese remedies. Thank god for that, or they wouldn’t be lucky enough to have Mr. Chen.  Stacey wasn’t looking forward to sitting at the table for the evening meal; however, she wouldn’t give black beard the satisfaction of sending someone to drag her in forcibly. Same as the times before, she shared a trencher with Rodric.  She wondered how much of their conversation Rodric had related to his brother. Mostly, she wondered what that arrogant man thought she had stolen and would be stupid enough to hold it behind her back.

The young pages brought the food that they could carry from the kitchen and servants brought the rest. Stacey now knew a few more people at the high table.  She remembered some of her medieval history and how people were seated by rank.  While Stacey was trying to put faces to names, she heard Lord Hampton say that he would be leaving on the morrow to return to Hampton keep. Alfred, the steward, was pouring wine for everyone.  Across the table from Stacey he asked, “Would ye care for a goblet of fresh buttermilk, Miss Stacey?  I know ye do not care for the vintage.”

With a smile that lit up her face, she said, “Oh yes, please, Alfred.  Thank you.” 

When Alfred brought the goblet of buttermilk, Stacey reached up for it.  As she did so, her sleeve fell back exposing her badly bruised wrist.  She was quick to cover it; however, Eric saw the bruise Rodric had told him about earlier.  Eric did not realize he had held her wrist so tightly.

“Lord Hampton, I thought you were gonna’ be here for Rodric’s birthday,” Stacey said, imploringly.