But five days wasn’t long enough to know a person.
Still, she knew he harbored hatred for Richard. In terms of fighting though, he didn’t fight for Richard. So, none of this would change anything.
“I can almost hear you thinking,” he said behind her. “Is it something you wish to speak about?”
She smiled like a satisfied cat. “How is that a scarred and hardened warrior would take note of such a thing and say something so thoughtful?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “If the men of your time cannot do something so simple as lend an ear, then you should leave them.”
She smiled at his suggestion. “And go where?”
He bent his lips to her neck. “Stay here with me.”
“But Nicholas, we hardly know each other.” You don’t know that I’m a Lancaster.
“What do you want to know about me, Kestrel? You know my pleasant moods and my darker ones. Ah! Here is something you don’t know. I want to stop fighting soon and live out my life with a wife I love.”
She leaned up and looked at him. “There you go talking about marriage again,” she quipped.
“I must,” he explained. “I see my children in your eyes.”
How could this be real? How could this man exist here and not there? What if she never made it back. Would being married to Nicholas be so bad? She wanted to laugh. Um, no.
“How many children?” she asked warily.
“Six. I do not know. Eight!”
“Ha! You’re nuts if you think I’m going through childbirth six to eight times with nothing to ease the pain but whiskey. We’d have to live in the future for that.” She grew quiet and thought about it. She did want a lot of kids. “Would you travel to my time with me, Nicholas?”
“We do not even know if you can get back—”
“But if we find a way, would you come with me?”
“Aye… if you left, but living among millions of people does not sound suitable for happiness and raising children… Let us see what Walter says, aye?”
She nodded against him. She didn’t want to leave him, and it was insane! She didn’t fall for men in five days! Maybe instead of just accepting everything that happened, she should fight a little. She had no right to ask a fifteenth century knight to step into the future with her. How would he ever grow accustomed to the bright lights, the quick pace, the sometimes rude people one met on a normal day? What if he killed someone and went to prison for the rest of his life? Prison in her time was probably better than prison in his, but it was still prison.
They remained quiet for the remainder of the trip, but the silence was becoming familiar and comforting. They leaned into each other, listening to the other’s breathing.
They reached Walter’s house after noon. Now, in the daylight, Kes fell in love with the house. It was much bigger than she thought and covered in ivy and other flowering vines. It was at least four stories high with huge windows, their shutters thrown open.
Kes blinked, looking up. Was…was that a bird that just flew out of one of the windows?
“Come. We will talk inside.” Old Walter led them indoors.
This time, they followed him into a large, well-lit hall and were invited to sit at a long trestle table. Ale and black bread with jam were served by a man just a bit younger than Old Walter. His name was Jonathan, and there were two middle-aged women called Edith and Margery.
Kes looked at the large bowl of bread set before them and ate, and the smaller bowls of jams. Not exactly a healthy afternoon snack, but she went with it.
“How is the king this fine day?” Walter asked.
“He is well. Have you given any further thought to what you told us last eve?” Nicholas asked. “It all sounded very odd.”
Walter smiled at him and then flicked his gaze to Kes. “It is very odd, is it not, Miss…ehm, Locksley?”
Her blood drained from her face. She nodded. It was all she could manage as fear overwhelmed her. Why did he say Locksley as if he knew it wasn’t her real name? Her gaze flicked to Nicholas. He was watching them both.
“Are you a native to this time, Walter?” she asked him, tired of playing these silly games.
“What do you mean?” he asked in all innocence.
“How do you come by all these artifacts? Do you acquire them yourself?”
His smile deepened. “Of course not. I get them from the same sort of men whom you have secured.”
“Secured?” she echoed then looked at Nicholas when he spoke.
“Have you found someone already?”
“Aye, and I heard from him just before you arrived. He—”
“How?” Nicholas asked. “How did you hear from him so quickly? Is he right in the village?”
“My lord, ’tis better if—”
“Walter,” Kes interrupted, “please answer the earl’s question.”
“Very well. He is a frequent traveler.”
“What kind of traveler, Walter?” Nicholas demanded.
“A time traveler, my lord.”
Kes felt relief like a flood wash over her. Nicholas didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked ill.
“My lord,” Walter said to him, “I trust now that you care for a traveler, you will say nothing.”
“I’m not a traveler, Walter,” Kes told him. “I was brought here against my will and dropped into the middle of a battlefield!”
“I see,” said the old merchant. “From when?”
“The twenty-first century.”
Walter gave her a pitying look. “This must be extremely difficult.”
She nodded. “It is.” Her gaze found Nicholas rubbing his hands down his face. “But the earl has made it quite nice.”
Walter looked at Nicholas and then at her. “Are you prepared to go back?”
“Yes,” she said with the slightest hesitation.
“All right. Here is what we know so far. The brooch is in the hands of Arthur’s knights in another realm, as I had thought. They are searching for him, waiting for his return. Some say the brooch was crafted by Morgan Le Fey or even Viviane of the
