Authors: Sarah Woodbury
Tags: #wales, #middle ages, #time travel, #king, #historical fantasy, #medieval, #prince of wales, #time travel romance, #caernarfon, #aber
Cassie crept along at less than ten miles an
hour, a perfectly reasonable speed given the falling snow and the
four or five inches on the ground. They passed yet another one-way
entrance fifty yards on, before finally reaching one that they
could enter.
Cassie slowed, the blinker ticking, but then
turned it off and continued driving straight ahead.
“Good choice, Cassie.” Like Mark, Callum was
splitting his attention between the road and his phone, which
showed a map of Caernarfon. “I didn’t like the look of that road
either. Caernarfon has too many one-way streets inside the city
walls. We could get boxed in and not be able to get out.”
“That was my thought,” Cassie said. “The
hairs on the back of my neck are standing up.”
“Let’s go around again,” David said.
“Nope. Can’t go around. I have to turn
around instead,” Cassie said, and then grumbled under her breath,
“I hate Caernarfon already.”
David peered out the window as she executed
a perfect three-point turn and drove back the way they’d come. He
looked at his mother. “How about you call Uncle Ted and tell him
we’re here.”
“Doing it now.” Mom pulled out her phone,
dialed, and then turned on the speaker as she waited for Uncle Ted
to pick up.
His voice bellowed out of the phone before
Mom hastily turned down the volume. “Where are you?”
“We’re here. Sort of.” Mom peered out the
window as Cassie slowed the van and took a narrow street to the
right. “We tried to reach the inn, but ended up going all the way
back out to the main street. We’re parking next to the castle in a
big square with a ton of shops. Do you know it? Can you meet us
here?”
“We’re on our way.”
David could hear activity from the other end
of the phone, and then Aunt Elisa’s voice came on. “This is crazy,
Meg.”
“I know,” she said. “The good news is that
the lump in my breast isn’t cancer.”
“Good God!” That was from Uncle Ted, who’d
overheard. “Is that why you’re here?”
“One of the reasons.” Mom put the phone back
on normal and stuck it up to her ear so the conversation became
private.
Fortunately, as it was Christmas Eve, they
had their choice of parking, and Cassie pulled into an empty space
that had plenty of room around it, in case they needed to make a
quick getaway.
“When we want to leave, all we have to do is
go around the square, end up over there, and take a left,” Mark
said, looking up from his map. “I think.”
They piled out of the van, and once they
were outside David elbowed Anna. “That’s a Subway.”
She laughed. “You’re thinking with your
stomach again. Mom says Uncle Ted is bringing us food.”
“There they are!” Mom ran forward to greet
the four people who’d just emerged from a side alley, coming from
the town. All four were carrying big white takeout bags.
She and Aunt Elisa embraced, tipping back
and forth from side-to-side as they hugged each other. “Wow,” Aunt
Elisa said as she stepped back from Mom. “You look great.”
“You do too.” Mom gestured Dad forward.
“This is my husband, Llywelyn.”
Aunt Elisa shook his hand, and then Dad went
on to Uncle Ted, who wrung his hand hard. “Very good to see you
again, my lord.”
“We are brothers,” Dad said, in his pretty
good English. “There’s no need to speak formally.”
David, meanwhile, grasped Christopher’s
shoulders and spoke at the same time as Christopher. “I never
thought I’d see you again.” And then they both laughed.
After everybody was introduced to everyone
else, Callum began herding them back to the van. “I don’t think we
should spend any more time out in the open than we absolutely have
to.” He looked at Uncle Ted. “I need to know everything about what
was going on in the hotel, but don’t tell me out here.’’
David didn’t even give the Subway a second
glance, since he’d already opened the food bag Uncle Ted had given
him and broken off a big piece of fried fish to eat. Once at the
van, Mom sat next to Aunt Elisa and Elen, who seemed to be
absorbing everything with big eyes. Christopher and Uncle Ted
crowded in behind David, and then Darren closed the door behind
them.
“Does driving away now mean we are
abandoning the bus passengers?” David licked his fingers and spoke
into the general chatter that had been ongoing.
Mom picked at her lower lip with her pinky
finger. “I can’t decide what our responsibilities are.”
“I overheard two of them talking to a
reporter,” Christopher said.
“They were all talking about the bus,” Uncle
Ted said. “To go back would mean we would spend the night being
questioned by MI-5. They’re all over the inn. You can’t go
back.”
Rachel nodded. “David, the passengers can
take care of themselves. You brought them home. They were going to
have to deal with the authorities eventually no matter how well you
eased them back into their old lives.”
“And we aren’t finished with what we set out
to do,” Anna said.
“I agree with the general sentiment,” Callum
said. “Going back, exposing yourself to my former colleagues, isn’t
going to help anyone.”
David gave way. “Okay. Let’s get out of here
for now, Cassie. If for some reason it seems we need to come back
here, at least we don’t have to jeopardize everyone.”
Cassie didn’t even wait for David to finish
speaking before she shifted into drive, and once again with Mark
navigating, wended her way out of Caernarfon. Silence had descended
upon the van as if nobody could think of anything to say.
Then Christopher broke the silence. “Hey!
Did Dad tell you the news?”
Uncle Ted made a slashing motion with his
hand. “Not now, Christopher.”
“What news?” David said.
“You know how you’re the King of England,
right?” Christopher said.
David laughed. “Usually.”
“Well, Dad’s spent hours doing our genealogy
over the last couple of years. He’s
obsessed
—”
Uncle Ted put out a hand to his son, trying
again to stop him from talking, but Christopher was on a roll.
“It turns out that all of us are royal
too!”
David’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”
Uncle Ted groaned. “He’s exaggerating.”
“I’m not!” Christopher said. “It turns out
that one of our ancestors was an illegitimate daughter of one of
the King Henrys from the Middle Ages.”
“Our Middle Ages?” David’s voice came out
slightly strangled.
Mom, who was sitting in the seat in front of
Uncle Ted, broke off her conversation with Aunt Elisa and turned to
look at him. “Which King Henry?”
“Mid-thirteenth century, so before your
time, David.” Uncle Ted made a dismissive motion with his hand. “It
was rumored that he had a liaison with a daughter of King Alexander
II. Caitir, I think her name was. It was never proven, but I traced
your father’s ancestry, Meg, to a daughter they were supposed to
have had.”
It was only when he finished speaking that
Ted realized everyone in the van was staring at him in shock.
Pleased with the reaction he’d gotten, Christopher added, “We’re
all descended from the kings of Deheubarth too, so you’re a Prince
of Wales like eight times over, but by now so is everybody with
Welsh ancestry.”
Dad started to laugh, and soon not only was
it rolling out of him in giant guffaws, but most everyone else in
the van was laughing too.
Christopher, Aunt Elisa, and Uncle Ted
looked from one person to another, bewildered more than anything
else. “Why is this funny?” Uncle Ted said.
“I’m descended from King Henry!” Mom was
laughing so hard tears streamed down her cheeks, and she wiped them
away with her fingers.
David had to hold his stomach because it
hurt so much. “I don’t believe it.”
Finally, Mom calmed down enough to explain
that most of England believed she really was King Henry’s
illegitimate daughter, though she denied it, of course. In the run
up to David’s crowning, papers had surfaced that proved it.
Uncle Ted looked from one to the other.
“Seriously?”
“Coincidence ‘R’ Us,” Mom said.
Mom’s words caused David to sober.
“Lee.”
Callum shook his head. “Lee can wait. Right
now, we need food, sleep, and, quite frankly, neutral ground.”
“Neutral ground.” Anna frowned. “Why?”
Callum sighed. “I don’t think any of you
should have anything to do with the Security Service, but if we are
truly to find out what has happened to Lee, and—as a side
note—rescue the bus passengers from whatever scrutiny they are
under, one of us should speak to Director Tate.”
Silence greeted that statement until David
said, not as a question, “And you think that person should be
you.”
“Do you disagree?” Callum’s eyes stayed
fixed on David’s.
“Strategically, no.” His chin resting in one
hand, David studied his friend. “We have to think carefully about
how you do it, though.”
“Agreed,” Callum said.
“Come to my house.” Abraham spoke up from
the back. “It’s the safest place.”
“There’s fifteen of us,” David said.
“You haven’t seen my house.”
Rachel frowned. “Did you move, Dad?”
He smiled. “I bought that old farmhouse
we’ve been looking at for years. The one with the medieval tower
that’s supposed to be—” He broke off as everyone in the van except
Cassie, who couldn’t turn around, gaped at him.
“Dad, don’t tell me you bought Aber!” Rachel
said.
David
T
hat was exactly
what Abraham had done. When Dad got out of the van, he stood with
his hands on his hips, staring up at the tower, which was all that
was left of the expansive royal
llys
(palace) that had once
occupied this space. The curtain wall was gone too, as were the
tunnels. Mom said the driveway had nearly collapsed sometime last
century, so the tunnels had been filled in.
“I can’t say I think very much of what time
and English owners have done to the place,” Dad said.
Mom laughed and took his arm. “Your people
remember you, my love. You really can’t ask for more than
that.”
While the others followed Abraham into the
house, Callum raised a hand to catch David’s attention, and the two
of them hung back in the darkness of the stoop, David still half-in
and half-out of the open door.
“On second thought,” Callum said, “staying
here isn’t really a good idea. The bus passengers can name Rachel.
A search on her name could bring up her father’s address here
pretty quickly.”
Abraham Wolff pulled the door all the way
open. “No, Callum, it won’t. Not unless they’re looking very
hard.”
“Why is that?” Callum said.
“My corporation bought the house. It isn’t
technically in my name at all.” Abraham made a rueful face. “Call
it a tax dodge if you like, but I’m the only physician in this
village, and I see patients in the coach house, which I converted
into an office.”
“Thank you for taking us in,” David
said.
“Anything for the kings of England and
Wales.” Abraham winked and pulled back inside the house to be
replaced instantly by Mark.
“Too bad Aaron isn’t here,” Mark said. “I
know it’s impossible, but I feel like Abraham is his direct
descendent.”
“If Abraham has his way,” David said,
“you’ll be able to introduce them.”
Callum indicated that they should move away
from the doorway and into the darkness of the driveway. “We need to
talk about MI-5, David.”
“About you exposing yourself, you mean?”
David shook his head. “If it weren’t for Lee and the fact that my
family is here, we’d be gone already. I would really prefer to keep
this whole trip under the radar.”
Mark sucked on his upper teeth for a second.
“It’s really too late for that, isn’t it?”
Callum nodded. “We bought extra phones.
Perhaps it’s time to use one.”
David released a breath in tacit agreement
and walked with them down the driveway until Mark indicated he had
good reception on his phone. Every now and then, the glare of
headlights from passing cars shone on the motorway that ran in
front of the village below them. Beyond that lay the Menai Strait
and Anglesey, also lit by tiny lights from the villages built along
the shore.
Back in the Middle Ages, David hadn’t
visited Aber Castle in at least a year, but at one time he’d
considered it home. In that universe, the setting was as peaceful
as they come. The mountains and the sea had formed a nearly
unbreachable barrier that had kept out the English invaders for
centuries.
In this world, it was only after David’s
father’s death that Edward had captured Aber. David glanced up at
the tower. He agreed with his father: what had been done to it was
unconscionable.
The three of them stood together a hundred
feet from the house. Mark had his laptop open and was using the
mobile phone as a wifi hotspot so that Callum could run the call
through the internet instead of the phone service, thus masking the
GPS of the phone. David didn’t pretend to understand exactly how
that might work, but he trusted that it would seem like Callum was
making the call from somewhere in Oregon.
“This is the Cardiff number for agents in
trouble—not the public number.” Mark tapped into his keyboard.
“This late on Christmas Eve, we’re sure to
get the lowest-ranking flunky in the building,” Callum said to
David, as an aside. “This is a good thing.”
The phone rang twice, and a woman answered.
“Box 500.”
Callum bent to speak into the laptop’s
microphone. Mark had had the foresight to turn off the camera. “I
need to speak to Director Tate. This is Alexander Callum.”
David smirked at the mention of Callum’s
first name, which he never used if he could help it. David didn’t
know why, since Alexander was a perfectly respectable Scottish
name.