Jessica looked at Abigail. They were from the same time. They might have known each other in another world 311.

if things had been different. Of anyone in the castle, they would share the same beliefs. "You aren't buying that," Jessica asked, "are you?"

Abigail shrugged and smiled weakly. "I've seen more in the last twenty years than I ever thought possible. We aren't exactly in Kansas anymore, Dorothy."

Jessica shivered. "It all just seems so unreal." "And that never changes," Abigail said with a sigh. "The roller coaster has left the gate and there's no getting off in the middle. If only I'd known, I would have brought a few tons of cocoa powder with me." "Nothing available?" "Not in England. And believe me, I would know."

Jessica wanted to ask her a thousand other things, beginning with how Abigail had survived every day knowing she would never live to see another modem marvel and ending with how in the world she had survived childbirth six times without drugs. But she was interrupted by the sight of Richard opening the door.

And in that moment Jessica had her answer. Maybe she could have found half a dozen men in her time with whom she could have been happy. Maybe she would have gone on with any one of them to live a full, rich life. Maybe with one of them she could have had a great and lasting love.

But she hadn't. She'd found that love seven hundred years in the past. "I'll be going now," Abigail said as she rose, then she slipped out the door. "Who was that?" Richard asked as the door closed behind him. "Tell you later," Jessica said, holding out her arms. "Come here." "Bossy baggage."

But there was a hint of a smile on his face, a small strand of sunlight amidst the storm, and the sight of it was enough to break Jessica's heart all over again for the sheer joy of knowing it was for her.

312.

The future could keep all its marvels. She had hers right where she was.

It was well before dawn when Richard rose and dressed. Jessica looked at him in the light of a single candle. "It won't be a war, will it?"

He stopped and looked at her. "I can't predict that." She wanted to say, But you'll be careful if it is, but she knew the reaction that would get, so she kept her mouth shut. She used her energy instead to memorize the shape of his body, the veins in his hands, the scar on his face.

He belted his sword around his hips, threw a cloak over his shoulder, and knelt on one knee beside the bed. He kissed her with his eyes open and she understood completely because she couldn't rob herself of one last sight of him either. "Mend my hose while I'm gone," he said, straightening. "Don't count on it."

He smiled, the brief satisfied smile of a man who knew in whose hands his heart was kept, then turned and left the room without saying anything else.

Jessica rose and pulled a blanket around her. Then she knelt on the hard stone floor of a medieval tower chamber and prayed that she hadn't just seen the last of him.

Richard rode in the company next to Robin and searched his pitiful wits for something to say. A pity he didn't possess Hamlet's glib tongue, for he might have been able to offer some comfort. Robin's heir, Phillip, rode on his father's side, just as silently, so perhaps there was no need for speech. Still, though, Richard wished he had some comfort to offer. Robin had lost his only daughter to consumption not a year before. This was yet another grievous blow to be borne.

He prayed he would never find himself in Robin's position.

Richard cleared his throat. He had to say something. "Did you send word to your sire?" he asked. Robin nodded grimly. "I have hopes it will reach him eventually." "Is Lord Rhys on the continent?" "Aye, he and my mother are cutting a swath through France, visiting his holdings there. In truth, though, I have little idea where they might find themselves on any given day. I I "Surely your grandmother knows of their whereabouts." Robin's grandmother was an abbess whose reach

314.

extended throughout France. She was very old, and very discerning despite her age. Richard had met her a handful of times and never come away without feeling as if he'd given up more secrets than he cared to. "Aye, she'll find them. But 'twill only be to hear the tidings."

Richard nodded. It wasn't as if Lord Rhys could have hastened back to help them anyway. They were within sight of Seakirk's walls. Richard looked back over the small army of Robin's relatives and vassals. It presented a very unpleasant sight. Would Matilda be moved by it? Would Richard of York run scampering the other way? "At least we have had a goodly army," Richard said with a sigh.

Robin nodded. "Aye. Let us hope it serves us." Richard fell silent and concentrated on looking about him. Perhaps he might mark something out of place or poke his nose in a deserted comer whilst the others were about their business.

Though once he and their company had been allowed into the great hall, Richard decided that poking his nose into anything was out of the question. He'd never seen such a filthy place, and that was no mean boast. He wondered what Kendrick had thought when he'd walked through those doors.

Assuming he'd managed to gain the hall. Richard leaned back against a soot-encrusted portion of a wall and let his gaze roam over the sight before him. Robin stood facing Matilda and Richard of York. Robin was backed by a handful of powerful kin, all wearing grim expressions. Richard of York had his share of men as well, though they were as unkempt and ill-smelling as the hall itself.

The place reeked of death. The thought occurred to Richard before he even suspected it, but once it had crossed his mind, he couldn't ignore it. He looked down at the rushes. It was hard to tell what made up the marshy mess, but he suspected blood could have been a part of it. He nudged something .

315.

in the rushes, then bent to look more closely at it.

It was a finger. Richard straightened carefully, then scanned the crowd. All attention was fixed upon the two men facing off in the middle of the hall. Richard wondered where the dungeons were and if he could reach them without becoming a permanent occupant.

He slipped along the back of the hall carefully. Matilda and Richard's men didn't pay him any heed. The other thing that surprised him was the sight of bandages on those men that he hadn't noticed from a distance.

There was something being concealed. Richard was half-surprised Matilda hadn't cast some sort of foul spell upon the place. For all he knew, she had. For a moment he almost wished he had brought Hugh with him. Hugh likely could have told Richard what the witch was about.

He gained the kitchens and glared the occupants into silence. It took no effort at all to find the steps leading down to the'cellars. Apparently Seakirk had no dungeon, but Richard suspected these chambers would have served just as well.

He nosed about, shifting filth about with the point of his sword. He saw nothing.

He had almost given up when he saw out of the comer of his eye something that made him pause. He bent closer to examine it. It was a bit of cloth, torn as if by a sword or a bolt from a crossbow.

Kendrick's cloak? Richard straightened. -It was no proof, but by now he needed no proof. Something foul had happened in this keep and he had no trouble believing Matilda and Richard of York were the makers of it. And much as he might have liked to believe differently, his heart told him that Kendrick had met his end here.

He only wished he knew the why of it. He reached the great hall in time to hear Richard of York expressing his deep sorrow to Robin over the loss of Artane's son. Matilda stood nearby, her head discreetly bowed, her hands clasped in front of her.

316.

Well, at least Matilda wasn't casting any spells over the company as yet.

Richard observed the parley going on before him and decided that his presence was not needed. There was a great deal of slippery speechmaking by Richard of York and a like amount of disbelief coming from the Artane camp. Richard suspected the only thing he might add would be a few slurs cast York's way and that wouldn't serve anyone.

He left the hall, walked through the ill-kept courtyard and into the empty lists. He stood there and stared off into the distance, wondering about the deeper meaning of life and death. It occurred to him that he was very fortunate indeed to have found someone to love.

And cursed as well. He would not survive it if something happened to Jessica.

You have that aright. Richard spun around, but there was no one there. He could have sworn he'd heard Kendrick say the like to him. He' drew his hand over his eyes and shook his head for good measure. He was losing what poor wits remained him, obviously.

Though he couldn't help but believe that if he'd just been able to look closely enough, he would have seen his brother-by-affection standing right next to him.

By the saints, what a tangle. Before he could speculate further, the front door burst open and Robin and his company strode angrily from the hall. Richard caught them as they gathered up their horses and made for the outer barbican. It was only after they were all mounted and riding away from the castle that Richard managed to question Robin. "What did he say?" Richard asked. "He invited me to search the surrounding countryside," Robin said bitterly, "and see if my eyes were perhaps better than his."

Richard found, to his distress, that he could say nothing. Perhaps in time he could speak to Robin of his own thoughts on the matter.

T FIE MORE I SEE YOU 31'.

"We'll search," Robin said briskly. "We'll search un til our supplies are gone, then I'll think on other things.'

Richard knew in his heart the search would be fruitless but he chose to keep silent on that as well. Perhaps IN searching would aid Robin in purging his grief. Though looking at him, Richard suspected that there wasn't any thing at all that would help.

A se'nnight later they were riding back the way they ha( come. Richard had searched as diligently as anyone els( in the little army, but his heart hadn't been in it. He'c passed most of his time trying to imagine how he woulc feel were he Robin.

To lose a child? He couldn't imagine it. Yet he had pui his foot to that possible path by wedding his lady.

But how could he have done anything else? The risks were worth the price. He only prayed that il such a loss became his lot in life, he would bear it as well as Robin seemed to.

Richard looked at Robin, next to whom he rode. "Fru sorry, my lord," he said, ignoring the emotions that continued to tear at him. "Truly, I am."

Robin looked at him, his expression bleak. "I know, Richard." "If only I had stopped him-"

Robin shook his head. "Richard, my lad, we could break our skulls and our hearts beating them against thai rock. You could not make his choice for him. You cannol change what has happened."

Richard nodded. He couldn't, but he wished he could have. He suspected that Robin, in his innermost heart, wished the same thing.

Richard sighed as he turned the events of the journey over in his mind again. They had found no sign of Kendrick. The more Richard thought on it, the more he suspected the scrap of cloak he'd found must have belonged to someone else. Perhaps York had it aright and Kendrick had been attacked. But the fact that a life could be snuffed

318.

out so easily, especially a life as difficult to take as Kendrick's, unnerved him greatly. He'd seen his friend escape impossible situations and live to laugh about it. Kendrick was skilled and cunning in the arts of war.

Unlike Jessica. That had been all he could think about over the past handful of days. He shuddered to think of what could happen to her. The same apprehension that had seized him after he'd received the tidings of Kendrick's death re- turned, infinitely more powerful.

What would he do if he lost her? He could scarce breathe for the thought of it, so he forced himself to turn his mind away from it. He wouldn't lose her. She hadn't come hundreds of years out of her time just to have her life end. He would keep her safe and he would keep their children safe.

He couldn't bear the thought of anything else.

Jessica stood on the battlements of the castle and stared out over the sea. It was a stormy day and all but a few hardy souls had sought shelter inside either guard towers or the keep itself. It wasn't raining yet, but it looked like a cloudburst was imminent. The only other truly crazy person in the whole place stood next to her, looking out over the sea with just as morose an expression. "Teenagers," Abigail said grimly. "Even in the Middle Ages they can drive you crazy. And he's not even a true teenager yet!"

Apparently her youngest, a boy named Michael, had just turned ten and had been blessed with an abundasce of testosterone. Jessica was perfectly content to listen to Abigail's stories, though, because they distracted her from her biggest worry, which was whether or not Richard would come home alive. "At least you can't blame it on television." "I blame it on his father and his uncles," Abigail said with a snort. "Who needs TV when you have a bunch of medieval barbarians going around waving swords and practicing their war cries just for fun?" "I heard the tour guide say that a lot of times warlords

7-.

320.

321.

would make peacetime so miserable for their men that they'd be happy to go to war and have a rest."

Abigail shook her head. "They fight just for the entertainment value. It's a roughhousing bunch. But it wasn't as if I could keep the kids away. Besides, I wasn't about to send my boys away to some other castle like a lot of these people do."

Jessica blinked. "Why would they do that?" "Something about how another man raising your kids makes them tougher. I think it's crazy. And they send them, both boys and girls, when they're as young as seven. "

Jessica made a mental note to tell Richard they would definitely not be sending any of their kids away to medieval boot camp at seven.

She looked at Abigail and smiled. "You wouldn't change anything, would you?"

Abigail shook her head with a sigh. "Not a thing. Miles has been a wonderful husband and he's done his best to modernize his keep. Well, not so much that people would notice and start to talk. It just makes me wish I'd taken an engineering course or two in college." "This isn't exactly something you plan for," Jessica said dryly. "I know," Abigail said glumly. "But when I think about all the times I tried to cut chocolate out of MY diet-even worse, all the times I succeeded. If I'd only known I'd never have it again.. ."

Jessica laughed, then found herself not thinking it was all that funny anymore. "Abby," she said slowly, "are there things you've really missed? Serious things?"

Abigail was silent so long, Jessica began to wonder if she hadn't asked a bad question. But then the woman who had only been a couple of years older than she in the twentieth century, turned and looked at her. She was smiling, if not a little wistfully. "Serious things? Yes. Books. Being able to have medicine at my fingertips-both Eastern and Western. I had a great acupuncturist and I never once tried to figure out what he was doing to me. I just wish I had taken more time to learn things." "We haven't exactly got a public library down the street," Jessica agreed.

Abigail nodded. "And that is the funniest thing of all. Out of all the things I wished I could have gathered up to bring, the only thing I could have brought with me was knowledge. I didn't have enough pockets or hands for anything else useful. But if I'd known more, I would have been so much more prepared to deal with what has come up over the past twenty years. And," she added with a sigh, "I miss music. Some of these minstrels are about as soothing,as fingernails on a chalkboard." "Maybe that should be my calling," Jessica said, surprised she was able to smile over it and not weep. The thought of never again hearing a symphony, or a jazz quartet, or even a beginning piano student butchering "Chopsticks" .. . "Well, at least you could teach them how to tune their lutes." Abigail shivered. "Unpleasant. Just plain unpleasant." "I would just kill for a piano." "Build one." "I wouldn't know where to begin."

Abigail smiled. "You have a lifetime to learn, Jessica. And there's no time like the present to get started."

Jessica nodded, then looked back over her shoulder. And she gasped. "Abby, what's that?"

Abigail looked south as well and groaned. "The king. We knew he was supposed to come up this way, but I was hoping Miles and I could slip out before he got here." "Wonderful-" "Just try to stay out of his way," Abigail advised, "and don't say much. Let's go lock ourselves in Anne's solar for the duration."

Jessica wiped a drop of rain off her nose. "I guess it beats standing out here getting soaked."

322.

"I can't tell you how nice it is to hear someone talking like the voices in my head," Abigail said, linking arms with Jessica and heading toward the battlement door. "You'll have to come visit-a lot. Miles will love it," "Did you tell him about me?" "He guessed." "He didn't!" "Not much gets past the man."

Jessica followed Abigail down the stairs, wondering if she shouldn't be a little more discreet. Then again, Miles lived with Abigail, so he would be more sensitive to any hints that a girl might be from a time other than his.

Implausible happening that it was. They made their way to Anne's solar and Jessica let herself be swept into Abigail's wake. She decided that maybe it would be best to watch and learn from someone who had evidently adapted very well to the time period. Talk about blooming where she was planted! Jessica sat in a comer, tried to look unobtrusive, and gave a great deal of thought to what Abigail had said about her only regrets. Jessica couldn't help but agree. Even if she had the chance to pop back to the future, for a few days just to gather up everything she might miss for the rest of her life, there wouldn't be a moving truck large enough to haul it for her. Probably the best she could hope for was time to study and an improved memory.

Though she dearly would have loved a few CDs and something to play them on.

She sat back and tried not to think about that.

A week later Jessica had a full understanding of why Richard had no desire to entertain Henry at his hall-and she understood why he'd been so offended over her comments about his peasants. They really did live very frugally at Burwyck-on-the-Sea when compared to the excesses the king's entourage seemed to demand every .

323.

day. Jessica couldn't have said whether or not it was the king behind the demands; maybe it was what he was accustomed to. All she did know was that the reason he traveled so much was that his group was on a continual hunt for something to eat. Exhaust the supplies at one place, move on to the next. She wondered what Robin and Anne would have left to eat after the king had consumed all their winter stores. How would she and Richard manage it if Henry decided to pay them a visit?

Wondering how she and Richard might feed the king, however, became the very least of her worries and it all had to do with the conversation she overheard the week of Henry's visit. She had been on the lookout for Abby, having promised 'her a recounting of all the good Hollywood gossip she could remember, when she heard her name mentioned from inside Anne's solar. She wasn't an eavesdropper by nature, but the way her name was said made her stop in her tracks. She wasn't about to announce her presence. "Amanda, not so loud," Anne was saying. "Jessica knows nothing of it, and it isn't our place to tell her." "But 'tis the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of!" Anne's sister-in-law said scornfully. "The babe is but eight years old!"

Jessica couldn't for the life of her understand what an eight-year-old could possibly have to do with her, but she had the feeling she wouldn't like it at all when she figured it out. "The king has made his wishes clear. What can Richard do?" "He can tell the king to go to hell-" "Hush," Anne said sharply. "I'm sure he would like to do just that." "Then he should! What does he care for the king's wishes?" "He cares because he wants his land, sister. As do we all."

Amanda snorted. "As if Robin ever bent his knee willingly. "

_7'.

324.