Kingdom Come (33 page)

Sean just shook his head. “I am not as confident as you, brother,” he said. “She is a beauty, no doubt. I’ve never seen finer.  But in father’s world, as long as she is from a good family, she can have the outward appearance of a horse.”

Kieran snorted. “He cannot do anything about it regardless of how he feels. Libby is pregnant with the next Earl of Newark and Sherwood whether or not he likes it.”

Sean inhaled deeply, thoughtfully, eyeing his brother as he did so. “He always expected more from you than the rest of us,” he said quietly. “Unless your Libby is a Princess of Ireland, I am not entire sure he will approve.

“That is his misfortune.”

They wisely moved off the subject and on to other things. As Christian and Andrew eventually passed out from too much alcohol, Kieran and Sean stayed awake the rest of the night, talking softly until dawn.

***

The next morning, Rory was introduced to the power, wealth and majesty of the Hage family. 

The morning was foggy and she awoke nauseous.  As the Hage army began to disband the tents and servants began to pack up their goods, Rory stood near her carriage with David and Bud, watching the activity and thinking that everyone pretty much looked like they had just walked out of a Medieval Faire.  Those Renaissance-type festivals were fairly accurate with their dress, weapons and other articles, because everyone around her looked just like what she had seen.  She wished Dr. Dietrich and Dr. Peck could see what she was seeing; they would have been amazed.  She doubted Bud could have survived without coffee, but it would have been a heck of an adventure. As she watched Kieran and his brothers give orders and make sure the army mobilized, she found herself swept up in this world she now found herself a part of.

Everything about it was different from what she knew to varying degrees; for instance, the grass beneath her feet was wild and thicker than modern day cultivated grass.  The roads were only roads in the literal sense and not the even, well-made and paved paths that she knew.  The heavy rains that they had been having for weeks had created mini-lakes along the road to Southwell and the ride was bumpy and rough. 

Feeling nauseous as she did, she eventually grew ill in the rocking –and-rolling carriage and got out to walk. Kieran, at the head of the column, found out by a message passed up through the ranks and he reined Liberator around and thundered back along the army until he came to his wife’s carriage.  She was slugging through mud and water, her skirts hiked up around her knees, but she was walking very determinedly.   When Rory saw Kieran approach, she put up a hand to stop his rebuke.

“Save it,” she told him. “I can’t ride in that thing anymore. It’s making me sick.”

He reined his horse near her, trying to be gentle. “Sweetheart, I know you do not feel well, but we will not reach Southwell until tomorrow if you walk. You must ride.”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh,” she snorted humorlessly. “Not in that thing.”

“Would you at least ride in the pony cart?” he asked nicely.

“Maybe,” she looked up at him. “Where’s Yusef? I haven’t seen him this morning.”

“He is riding at the head of the column in a place of honor.”

She twisted her lips doubtfully, moving closer to him. “He may not be comfortable with that,” she said quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a stranger in enemy lands,” she explained.

When Liberator realized Rory was beside him and tried to shove her with his big head, she poked him in the nostril and he snorted unhappily.

“Gross,” she wiped off her snotty finger, returning her focus to Kieran. “Did you ask him if he wanted to ride with you or did you just tell him to?”

Kieran had no idea what she was driving at as he tried to comfort his pouting charger. “He understands that I am putting him in a place of honor.”

Rory gazed at him a moment longer before shaking her head doubtfully. “I’m not sure about that,” she said. “He may not be comfortable in the middle of a bunch of white English soldiers who don’t know him as well as you do. They may be cruel to him. They don’t understand his ways and they might make him feel bad. It’s called discrimination.”

Kieran really didn’t get her concern but he tried to humor her. “Then what would you have me do?”

“Ask him where he wants to ride next time. Don’t tell him; ask him.  Let him do what he is most comfortable with.”

Kieran was trying to understand; he really was. But it was difficult. Rather than argue with her, he simply agreed so she wouldn’t grow upset.

“As you wish,” he said. “Now, back to the pony cart; will you at least ride with Kaleef? You know that you should not be exerting yourself so.”

Rory glanced back behind the cab to see the old man driving the little pony cart. Bud was riding with him. With a shrug, she stopped and waiting until the pony cart caught up to her. Kieran had Bud get out and Rory took his place as the pony cart continued to move.  Bud climbed up on the bench seat of the carriage next to the driver.   With everyone shuffled around and settled, Kieran left his wife with a wink and returned to his post at the head of the army.

Rory watched him go, admiring the way he rode Liberator, the power and strength that radiated from the man.  She was in the middle of the Hage war machine and trying to analyze it clinically, from the shoes they wore to the weapons they brandished.  She found it rather fascinating that the entire army was mounted, which gave her an inkling as to how wealthy and powerful the Hages were.  Most armies were foot soldiers with just a few mounted officers and knights.  But she was surrounded by at least three hundred mounted men. It was impressive and, if she were to admit it, a little intimidating.

The fog began to lift by mid-morning and the deep green landscape began to come into view.  It was fairly flat topography but for a few rolling hills now and again, lush and dotted with sheep. Rory was riding fairly comfortably beside Kaleef when she began to hear a buzz going through the men.  The chatter was growing but she couldn’t quite catch what they were talking about.  Kaleef suddenly nudged her, pointing to the northeast.  Straining her eyes, she eventually saw what had the men so excited.  It was an awesome sight to behold.

Southwell Castle appeared on a distant rise, a massive castle of pale colored stone that reflected the weak sunlight like a beacon.  Rory stared at it, studying the structure, as they drew closer and she began to see that Southwell wasn’t only a castle; it was an entire city.  The castle proper was on the top of a gentle rise, an enormous four story keep like the ones at Rochester or Hedingham, planted at the crest of the hill.  As they drew closer and she could see the architecture, she noticed that the walls of the keep had what was called ‘blind arcading’; a series of arches applied to the façade as decoration. The Normans were particularly fond of that kind of architecture but she’d never actually seen it in such a perfect state; it was extremely impressive. Other than the huge, block-like keep, she could only see walls; miles of them, concentric walls that encircled the hill and then another set that enclosed a portion of the city.  It looked like what the ancient fortress at Mycenae must have looked like. It was absolutely enormous.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, studying the castle as the light grew stronger and the structure suddenly looked as if it was made of gold. “Look at that.”

Kaleef’s old eyes focused on the distant city. “It looks like Paradise.”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving the vision. “And Kieran is going to inherit the whole thing,” she breathed, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Amazing.”

Kaleef looked at her, noting how entranced she seemed.  He continued to gaze at the woman; her perfect skin, perfect face, perfect teeth. There was nothing imperfect about the lady.  She was also, clearly, very misplaced with her strange speech and forthright behavior.  He’d known that from the beginning.  Her odd songs and peculiar mannerisms spoke of a difference even more pronounced than his was.  He continued to study her, the faint cosmetics on her face that were so strange yet so appealing, the way her eyebrows were perfectly shaped over her perfect eyes.

“Lady,” he said softly.

“Hmmm?” Rory answered, still staring at the castle in the distance.

“Where is America?”

Her head snapped to him, the hazel eyes focusing. She was afraid to answer him, having no idea where he had heard of America.  Kaleef could see her hesitation, her fear.

“When you came to me for help when you were injured,” he reminded her, “you told me that you were from America. Where is this place?”

Rory suddenly remembered that conversation, that dark night.  It seemed like a million years ago.

“It’s across the sea, to the west of Ireland,” she said, but when he had no real reference point, she illustrated with her hands on her lap. “Here’s England, here’s Ireland, and then all the way over here is America.”

Kaleef digested that. “I have never heard of this country.”

She looked at him, wondering just how much to tell him. He seemed the quiet sort, a very old Middle Eastern man misplaced in the world of the English.  She felt sorry for him, just as she felt sorry for Yusef.  But she was misplaced, too, and in that sense, she felt a kindred spirit with him.

“That’s because it hasn’t been discovered yet,” she said softly. “Kaleef, are you really an alchemist?”

His dark eyes regarded her. “I am what I am.”

He was being evasive with her, probably out of fear. “Look,” she put her hand on his wrist. “I want you to understand that your secrets are safe with me. I would never betray you. You can trust me and I hope I can trust you, because the things you and I talk about can never be repeated to anyone other than Kieran. He’s the only one who wouldn’t think we were witches and try to burn us at the stake.”

Kaleef regarded her a moment longer, distracted when the pony cart hit a particularly deep rut and the ponies struggled to pull it free.  When they were moving again, he turned back to her.

“My knowledge is not limited to the mysterious,” he finally said. “I was a healer, once, and a very good one. But I knew there was more in this world that we did not understand and was yet to be discovered.  I have discovered many wonderful things that others might consider blasphemy.”

Rory thought back to how the old man had given Kieran potions to suspend his bodily functions and caused the man to sleep for eight hundred years.   Even to this day, no one had done what Kaleef had in his little hut with all of his mystical and odd ingredients.  The man, as far as she was concerned, was a genius.

“I know,” she murmured. “Succotrine aloes, zedoary gentian, saffron and rhubarb.”

Kaleef looked at her as if he had just struck him. He began to grow very nervous and Rory’s hand tightened around his wrist.

“Don’t be frightened,” she whispered. “Kaleef, I swear I will take your secrets with me to the grave but I have to say, what you have discovered is the most miraculous thing I’ve ever heard of.  I’ve always wanted to talk to you about it.”

He was less nervous but still shaken as he tried to drive the ponies and look at her at the same time. “Who told you this about me?”

“Kieran.”

“How does he know?”

She wasn’t sure how she could adequately explain everything.  She took her hand off his wrist and sat back against the bench. “Because you saved his life, once. You are the reason he is living today.”