“Please, Turms, I meant no disrespect to either yourself or my dear wife. In truth, I was uncertain of my reception.”
“I hope you know you can trust our friendship,” said Turms. “My regard for you has never altered.”
“It was not you or your friendship I doubted,” replied Arthur. “Believe me, that thought never entered my mind.”
“But?”
“I wanted to see how things stood here.”
“Ah!” Turms nodded with appreciation. “Very wise. Yes, I remember now-at the time of your last leaving the Latins were threatening our borders. You might have returned to a very different place than you last visited.” He made a laudatory gesture in the air with his hand. “I commend your caution.”
Pacha approached, leading a servant bearing a bronze tray with silver goblets and a delicate glass jar of pale, amber-coloured liquid. There were bowls of honeyed almonds as well. The servant placed the tray on a three-legged stand and backed away as the Master of the House poured the wine, sipped from the goblet, then handed it to the king. He repeated the process for the king’s guest, then retreated quietly.
“I am glad to see that all appears peaceful now. The realm prospers under your reign.”
“For now, yes. The bellicose Latins have been tamed, or at least discouraged. The prime instigators have been caught, judged, and either executed or exiled. The Umbrians-an altogether more reasonable tribe-have taken over administration of Ruma city. At present, you have no need to fear becoming ensnared in a battle between warring nations. Peace, that ever-fragile flower, blossoms in profusion across the land.”
“Since that is the way of things,” said Arthur, rising once more, “I will inform my wife. She will be most heartily glad to leave the confines of the ship.” Arthur’s manner became grave. “Xian-Li is the reason I have come. My wife is with child, you see-”
A glance at his visitor’s face told Turms that all was not well. “What should be a joyous occasion has been clouded for you in some way. I can see it. What has happened?”
“Xian-Li has had a troubled time,” replied Arthur simply. “I have come to you for advice. I have told her of the skill of Etrurian physicians, and she is most eager to meet you. I will go fetch her now.”
“You will do no such thing, my friend,” said the king. “I will send Pacha to the ship with my bearers and they will bring her in my chair.” He raised his hand and summoned his servant. “Arthur’s wife is waiting aboard the ship in the harbour. Take my chair to her at once-but see the bearers employ the utmost care. The lady is with child.”
“It will be done, my king.” Pacha bowed and hurried away; soon his calls urging the bearers to speed could be heard echoing down the hillside.
While awaiting the arrival of Xian-Li, the two sat and talked and drank their wine, renewing old bonds of friendship, casting their memories back across the intervening years to the time when Turms had been but a lowly prince, third in line to the throne, and Arthur his student, assigned by King Velnath to teach the exotic visitor the language and customs of the Tyrrhenian people. The two young men had quickly become fast friends; and though it had been a long time since they had last seen one another, their high regard for one another had not diminished.
“You have not changed at all,” remarked Turms, regarding Arthur closely.
“Nor have you, my lord king.”
“Careful.” He wagged a scolding finger. “It is a dangerous thing to lie to a king. But, see here, for you I put off my crown. When we are together I am only Turms. We will turn back the years and be what we once were.”
“As you will,” agreed Arthur. “I would like nothing more.”
They talked about the time when they had both travelled the country as part of Arthur’s schooling. Turms’ father had seen in the young foreigner a source of knowledge he was determined to utilise. The old king had died before the summer was out-killed by a Latin assassin’s blade. Turms’ brother had ascended the throne and, in vengeance, declared war on the Latins, forcing the two young men to abandon their travels and return to Velathri where Turms, under command of his elder brother, had entered the priesthood. With the country deep in preparations for war, Arthur had made his farewells and departed with the promise to return in a year or two when peace had been restored.
“And now you are king,” said Arthur, grinning with pleasure to find his old friend in such an exalted position. “You must tell me how that came about. That is a tale I am keen to hear.”
“It is nothing,” replied Turms, fanning the air as if waving away a fly. Taking up his cup, he said, “Do you remember the last summer we were together?”
“It was in many ways the most glorious summer of my life. How could I ever forget?”
“Two keen and ardent souls without a care in the world. The days we spent in Ruma and Reate.” Turms chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “The nights! Sabine girls are the finest in all the world, say the sages. And, from experience-limited as it may be-I can in no way disagree. I should have married one when fortune smiled.”
“It is not too late,” Arthur pointed out. “Never too late.”
Turms smiled. “Perhaps not.”
CHAPTER 4
Giles?” Sensing that her companion was no longer with her, Wilhelmina spun around to find him on hands and knees, heaving the contents of his stomach into the soft pine matting of the pathway. She returned and knelt beside him. “Take a deep breath and relax. The worst is over.” She put her hand on his back. “That’s right-a slow, deep breath.”
He did as she instructed, and Wilhelmina felt his ribs expand and contract as the breath went in and out of his lungs. “Again,” she advised, glancing back the way they had come. “Do you think you can walk? We have to move along. Burleigh’s men may catch our trail any moment.”
Giles nodded and dragged a sleeve across his mouth.
“Good.” She put her hand under his arm and helped him to his feet. “It really does get easier with practice.” She smiled. “But you’d better brace yourself. We have two more jumps before we’re in the clear. Right now, we have to get off this ley.” She turned and started into the trees lining the path.
Giles, on wobbly legs, followed.
They walked a fair distance before Wilhelmina paused to listen. There were no sounds of a chase, so she resumed at a slower pace, allowing her queasy companion to gain a little strength. “The next ley is in the valley beyond that hill,” she told him. “It is about an hour’s trek. There is a brook in the valley, and we can get a drink before we jump.”
Giles nodded again.
“You’re not one to wear out a person’s eardrums, are you.”
“My lady?”
“I mean, you don’t talk much.”
“No, my lady.”
“Please, call me Mina.” She smiled and extended her hand to shake his. “Just Mina.” She began walking again. “It’s this way.”
She led and he followed a half-step behind, so that she had to raise her voice to talk to him. “You were Sir Henry Fayth’s valet,” she said. “Is that right?”
“I was his footman and driver,” Giles corrected.
“And I take it you haven’t made all that many jumps?”
“My lady?”
At his blank expression, she rephrased her question in the more formal style of address of an earlier age. “Am I to understand that you have but limited experience in ley travel?”
“Yes, my lady. This was only my second time.”
“I see. Has anyone explained to you about the time slip-that’s what I call it. You know, the way time slips around when you make a jump?”
“No, my lady. But I know Sir Henry made many such leaps. He and Mr. Livingstone often travelled together, and I understand that the places they visited were not in the present day and time-if you see what I mean.”
“Yes, well, I just want to warn you that we will be returning to Britain-but it will not be the country it was when you left.” She cast a quick glance at her sturdy companion. “What year was it when you left England?”