Timestruck (19 page)

“Who are you?” Gina asked. “How do you know
my name?”

“I am Alcuin. I saw you in the great hall
last evening when you were presented to Charles. You are fortunate
that I chose this hour to procure a fresh supply of quills.” He
laid the feathers on the table next to a pot of ink. “The queen
does not like to be interrupted when she is carrying on a private
conversation.”

“I wasn’t going to interrupt. I stumbled into
the garden by mistake. I was looking for—”

“For Count Dominick?”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Not at the moment.” Alcuin poured wine into
two cups and handed one to Gina.

She looked into the red liquid in her cup,
then looked up at him, recognition dawning. Alcuin of Northumbria
was one of Charles’s closest friends and advisors. When she had
learned about Charlemagne in school, Alcuin was also mentioned,
though much too briefly for the classroom memory to be of much
assistance now. Gina knew only that he was a great scholar who
devised a script that was easier to read than the older writing
style.

“I have been told that you are also a native
of Northumbria,” Alcuin said.

The mildly uttered statement brought Gina
back to dangerous reality. With a few well-chosen questions Alcuin
held the power to blow her cover, as the author of a
twentieth-century spy novel might have said, by proving that she
knew nothing at all about Northumbria. Perhaps the man wasn’t as
innocuous as he seemed.

“Courtiers do love to gossip, don’t they?”
Gina’s hand began to shake. Fearing she’d slosh her wine all over
his documents, she set the cup down, its contents un-tasted. Alcuin
sipped from his cup and watched her.

“Actually, I come from a place very far
away,” Gina said, instinctively aware that she couldn’t lie to him.
He’d know it if she tried. “Dominick misunderstood the name of the
city where I used to live.” She fumbled to a halt, caught by Alcuin
s suddenly penetrating gaze.

“Once, almost fifteen years ago, reckoning by
the time in which I am living, I knew another woman like you,”
Alcuin said slowly. “Her name was India. Her lover was killed at
Roncevaux along with Count Hrulund. After that, there was nothing
to hold her in Francia any longer, so she returned to her own home,
in
Connecticut
. I don’t know how she did it, so I cannot
help you to do the same.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Gina cried in astonishment at the one, oddly pronounced and
obviously unfamiliar word he had emphasized.

“I am merely saying that you remind me of an
old friend. But then, I am an aging cleric who likes his wine too
well,” Alcuin answered. “I do think there is someone holding you in
Francia. And I believe there are certain subjects that ought never
to be discussed aloud.”

“You’re telling me I’m not likely to get home
again?”

“Perhaps the decision is yours to make. That
was the case for India.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There are mysteries that mortals are not
meant to understand.”

“Dominick once said something similar. He
said sometimes we just have to accept what happens and not worry so
much about understanding why.”

“I have always found Dominick wise beyond his
years.”

“Thank you for rescuing me just now,” Gina
said, feeling the need to change the subject before her whirling
thoughts could drive her into a state of total confusion.

“It’s not often a cleric has the opportunity
to rescue a beautiful lady. Our unexpected meeting has enlivened a
rather dull morning.”

“What do you do in here?” Gina asked,
surveying all the paraphernalia of medieval scholarship piled high
on the table and shelves.

“I am working on a new translation of the
Bible,” Alcuin said. “I am also head of the palace school, and I
correspond with many friends. That is why I was in need of new
quills,” he added, touching the feathers.

“It sounds like a lot of work. I shouldn’t
keep you from it. If you think it’s safe, I’ll leave now.”

“Let me see.” Alcuin headed toward the door.
“Drink up your wine. It’s too good to waste.”

“This is good,” Gina said after a hearty
gulp.

“I serve only the best to my friends. India
also enjoyed the wine from that vineyard.” Alcuin stepped out of
the room, returning a moment later. “The courtyard is empty.”

“Thank you again.” Gina started to leave, but
then turned back. “Alcuin, do you know Father Guntram?”

“I do.” The cleric s kindly face was suddenly
hard and cold as stone.

“I don’t like him either,” Gina said,
guessing at the reason for his reaction. “But I do like Pepin. Have
you seen him this morning? Could Dominick be with him?”

“Pepin has not yet come to Regensburg,”
Alcuin said. “We expect him any day.”

“Not here? But, when I saw them at Feldbruck,
he and Father Guntram were traveling together. Why is Father
Guntram at Regensburg, but not Pepin?”

“I have been asking myself the same question
since I saw the priest with the queen,” said Alcuin.

“If you learn the answer, let me know,” Gina
said, heading for the courtyard. “I’ll do the same for you, if I
can discover what’s going on.”

“I can be found most evenings in the great
hall,” Alcuin’s quiet voice followed her. “Or here during the
daylight hours. You are always welcome.”

“I will remember that.”

By the time Gina returned to the great hall,
Dominick was there, with a younger man whose blond hair and gray
eyes lent him a striking resemblance to Dominick.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Gina
said, joining the two men.

“I intended to return home to fetch you in
time for the evening feast,” Dominick responded.

“Well, then, I’ve saved you the trouble.”
Gina thought he didn’t look very pleased to see her.

“Women almost never obey orders,” Dominick’s
companion stated in a challenging way.

“I have an unblemished record in that
respect,” Gina said, laughing in an attempt to lighten the
atmosphere. Both men were frowning at her. “I take orders from no
man.”

“Lady Gina, this is my younger brother, Count
Bernard,” Dominick said.

“We are only half brothers.” Bernard was
glowering, looking ready to erupt into a tantrum or perhaps a
full-blown battle. “Dominick, you are a fool to return to court.
The queen still hasn’t forgiven you for the way you sent Hiltrude
off to a convent. She certainly isn’t going to welcome your
concubine amongst her ladies.”

“I am not a. concubine!” Gina cried. “And I
wouldn’t be one of Fastrada’s ladies if you paid me.”

“Gina, be quiet!” Dominick commanded.

“She won’t obey you,” said Bernard,
sneering.

“She has already declared her refusal to
accede to the wishes of mere men. Have a care, Dominick. Acting on
your own initiative, you achieved only partial ruin. With this
woman’s assistance, you may well be completely destroyed.” Uttering
a rude sound that clearly indicated his disgust, Bernard walked
away.

“I’ve done it again,” Gina said, looking
after him. “Wouldn’t you think I’d have sense enough by now to keep
my mouth shut, to just smile politely and say nothing when I’m
insulted?”

“Silence would be best, considering you are
ignorant of the various loyalties and dissensions among Charles’s
courtiers,” Dominick responded. “Bernard likes me not at all,
though before others he will bestir himself to hide his distaste
for his father’s bastard. He imagines his display of good manners
makes him appear to be a better man. His mother is not so polite.
Fortunately, she is not presently at court.”

“That’s good news. It means one less enemy
for me to antagonize. Dominick, you will never guess who I met
while I was searching for you. Please tell me Alcuin is a true
friend.”

“He is.” Dominick’s stern expression softened
at the mention of the cleric’s name. “Alcuin is so honest and
valued an advisor and stands so high in Charles’s regard that all
Fastrada’s wiles cannot dislodge him from his position at court.
Where did you meet him?”

“He rescued me and spirited me away to his
office when I was about to stumble into a secret conference
Fastrada was holding with Father Guntram.”

“That cursed priest is in Regensburg? Then
where is Pepin?”

“That’s what Alcuin and I were wondering.
Personally, I think the queen and that unpleasant priest are up to
no good.”

“I agree,” Dominick said.

“Since I’ve vowed to be more cautious, I
guess I should ask, is it safe for me to be seen talking with
Alcuin in public?”

“Of course.” Dominick chuckled, his usual
good humor restored. “Everyone talks to Alcuin, and drinks his
wine, too.”

“It’s very good wine.” Gina hesitated,
reluctant to speak of what else she and Alcuin had discussed – the
tale of a lady who had apparently visited Francia for a while and
then, after her lover died and nothing held her in the eighth
century any longer, returned to another time and place. Gina wasn’t
sure she wanted Dominick to know about that possibility. She was
even less certain what, if anything, she wanted to do with the
unexpected knowledge. She decided to postpone revealing what Alcuin
had said about his friend, India.

“Dominick, where were you for half the day?
I’ve been worried sick. That’s why I was wandering around the
palace. I was looking for you, terrified that something terrible
had happened.”

“As you can see,” he said, “I am alive,
unharmed, and free.”

“For the moment. Have you been able to
uncover anything of interest?”

“Several details,” he said. “We will talk
later, at my house, where there is no chance we’ll be overheard.
Here comes Lady Adalhaid. Gina, I warn you again, think twice
before you speak.”

“I promise I’ll do better from now on.” She
touched his arm in a quick caress. Dominick responded by smiling at
her in the way that always left her feeling weak and warm inside.
“I’ll stay awake tonight, too,” she added, and laughed softly to
hear his deep chuckle.

“I intend to see that you do,” he said just
before Lady Adalhaid reached them.

Queen Fastrada s chambers were unlike
anything Gina had ever seen in real life. In a scene of barbaric
splendor straight out of a Hollywood historical epic, the walls
were draped with silk, low tables bearing gold or silver bowls of
berries and early apples stood about the room, and pillows in
bright colors were strewn over the wooden floor. The oil in the
lamps was scented with jasmine, adding heavy perfume to the
fragrances of the ripe fruit. Gina coughed, tried to repress a
sneeze, and hoped that none of the queen’s attendants suffered from
severe allergies.

Fastrada lounged on a pillow-crammed bed that
was pushed against one wall. She was wearing a blue silk gown with
a red sash wound about her slender waist, and at least a dozen gold
necklaces. Her feet were bare. She looked downright unhappy. Or
perhaps she was sulking. Gina had the impression that Fastrada
often sulked.

“Did you have to bring her here?” Fastrada
asked when Lady Adalhaid appeared with Gina at her side. “Why
should I be expected to receive a lowborn concubine?”

The other ladies in the room smothered
giggles. Gina bit her lip and, true to her promise to Dominick, did
not respond to the insult.

“My lady, you know that all unwed girls who
come to court are placed under your protection,” Lady Adalhaid
said. “I am merely doing my duty in bringing Lady Gina to you.”

“I’ve a mind not to receive her,” Fastrada
said. There was a certain gleam in the queen’s sapphire eyes, a
hint of malice that warned Gina to be on guard. “Then again,
perhaps she will prove useful to me.”

“I am sure Gina will be happy to serve you in
whatever way you desire,” said Lady Adalhaid.

It was on the tip of Gina s tongue to inform
both Fastrada and Lady Adalhaid that she wasn’t the least bit
interested in serving the queen in any capacity. She thought about
what she wanted to say, thought a second time, and held her peace,
for Dominick’s sake. As long as she had to spend time with
Fastrada, she’d learn as much as she could about the plot in which
Pepin was involved, as well as any schemes of the queen’s devising.
That was what she was at court to do, after all.

“Bring me my fan,” Fastrada ordered.

There were three other noblewomen in the
room, one of them Lady Ansa, and the instant the queen spoke they
all began searching for the missing fan.

“Not you.” Fastrada made a lazy gesture to
indicate that the others should move away. “I want Gina to find my
fan.”

“Certainly,” Gina said as politely as she
could manage. “What does it look like?”

“What do you mean, what does it look like?”
exclaimed Fastrada. “Don’t you recognize a fan when you see
one?”

“I meant, is it made of paper – er, parchment
– or feathers, or silk, perhaps? Is it large or small? What color
is it? Do you remember where you last saw it? Or when?” Gina began
to look around the overstuffed room, trying to decide if she dared
to toss a few pillows about or search behind the wall hangings or
get down on the floor to peer under the tables.

“Your questions are rude,” Fastrada declared.
“I want my fan now.”

“I’m very sorry, but I’ve never seen the fan
before, and I have no idea where you could have lost it. My
questions are not meant to be rude. They are aimed at trying to
find your cursed – your fan.” Gina was close to losing her temper
but not so close that she missed the way Fastrada’s petulant mouth
twitched at her barely restrained response.

So that was it. Fastrada was deliberately
trying to make her say or do something that would get her – and
Dominick, too, no doubt – into trouble. Well, she wouldn’t give the
spoiled brat the pleasure. She gazed at the luxurious furnishings,
trying to think where in all the clutter a missing fan could
be.