'But if you're afraid ?'
'My dear, you're talking to a man who has laughed in the face of death, sneered at doom, and chuckled at catastrophe. I'm petrified. But let's get back to the castle and see what we can do.' Gene started to rise. 'Which, I'm afraid ?' He sat back down.
'Trouble?'
'Well, it so happens the portal is in the Legate's part of town. The city is divided up between the king's regent, who's kind of weak in the power department, and the Legate Ragueneau. Local politics, it's complicated.'
'What about the revolution you were talking about?'
'They had it without us. The peasants revolted and overthrew the Directorate. Got fed up with starving. But it turned out that Ragueneau was backing the regime because he was buying grain from them at bargain prices and selling it on the… but forget about that. It's real complicated, and anyway it's beside the point. The point is, we're on the Legate's hit list, and his goons are out in force tonight looking for us.'
'Great. How are we going to get back?'
'I dunno. How's your magic in this world?'
'Iffy. I cast a little number to keep my voice low, but apparently it wasn't very effective. How's your swordsmanship?'
'Great, but I'm not Superman.'
'Oh? What was all the bragging about?'
'Hey,' Gene said with some embarrassment, 'we were just having some fun, okay?'
'Just a bunch of the guys out for a good time.'
'This isn't the twentieth century here. In fact it's the ?'
'We'd better go. We have to make a run for it.'
Gene grunted. 'Right. You game, Snowy?'
'For a fight? You bet.'
'Guys, please! This isn't a game. We just have to make it back to the portal. The thing is to avoid trouble.'
'It's late, and there'll be patrols.'
'We'll have to duck in and out of alleys.'
'Yeah, do the stealth bit. Right. Okay, let's go.'
Linda looked Snowclaw up and down. 'Sheila did a good job on you.'
'I hope I can last until we get back to the castle,' Snowclaw said. 'I've been feeling kind of shaky. It's rough being human.'
Gene said, 'No kidding, Philip Marlowe.'
Nine
Mill
She had wandered all afternoon without seeing signs of intelligent life, and when she found the dilapidated mill house she was overjoyed. She had begun to think that this world was uninhabited. The old mill, floorboards half-rotted, beams sagging, proved that it at least had been inhabited at one time.
It was dusk when she finished gathering enough tall grass to make some sort of mattress to lay over the plank flooring up in the loft. As bedding, she made do with two old gunnysacks. They were scratchy and mildewed, but when the chill of night came on, she was grateful for them.
Nocturnal chirping and twittering came out of the forest. The moon was out, outlining the small window above her and throwing an oblong of blue light on the floor. The wind played in the trees.
An owl hooted. She thought it was an owl.
She wondered about nonhuman worlds. Was this one? The mill looked human enough, but how could she know for sure?
She turned over and tried to fall asleep, unsuccessfully. A cricket trilled very near, then stopped. The old mill creaked and groaned.
She heard something, far off. She listened intently. The sound grew. It was a thumping… a stamping… the sound of hooves. They came nearer, nearer. They were right below the window. She froze, her heart bouncing against her breastbone.
The hoofbeats stopped.
Below, footsteps. Someone had come into the mill and was looking around. Something crashed. A male voice uttered an unintelligible curse. More crashing. Whoever it was went outside again, then came back.
She listened as more activity went on below. Gradually it subsided. Then everything was quiet again.
Someone sighed. Coughed. Cleared his throat. Then let out a long breath.
In a little while, she heard snoring.
Whoever it was, he sounded human enough. But she was still afraid. Highwayman? Rapist? Murderer? All of those, maybe.
She was afraid to relax her body, afraid to move a muscle. Her back ached, and her stomach churned.
She was worlds away from the existence she had known just hours ago. It seemed like years. The short time she had spent in the castle seemed like another life, and this, still another.
Was this all a dream? Yes. She'd be waking up soon in her room in Haberman Hall. There was a calculus test to cram for. She'd have a few hours to do it if she got up early enough. What time was it?
She felt her wrist. Her Phasar Quartz was still on her wrist. It had a night light. Slowly, she ducked her head under the sack and pressed the tab on the side of the watch.
The tiny digital readout seemed to light up the night.
:39 A.M.
Okay, the sun should be up by now. So how come it isn't?
No, she was not on Earth. She was somewhere else entirely. Where? The trees and flowers and plants had looked earthlike enough, but they were also different somehow. She'd seen no maples, but something that looked like an oak. That was it as far as her tree-knowledge went. The sun had looked like the sun, and she wasn't about to get up to look at the moon.
The crickets sounded like crickets. Some help there. Maybe this was Earth, but the past. No, Linda had said nothing about traveling in time.
She wondered if she would ever see her world again.
Through the window, the sky was gray. It was morning. She marveled that she had actually fallen asleep. How long had she slept? What about…?
She rolled over. A tall man was standing over her. She threw the sacks off and jumped to her feet.
The man sized her up. Apprehensively, she did the same to him.
He was young, about twenty-five, with a light beard and hazel eyes. He had on a hooded doublet and cape and wore high boots. A cross-hilted sword in an ornate scabbard hung at his left side.
He said something, and for some reason she understood him, though he hadn't spoken English. He had said, 'So you are a woman. You dress like a boy.'
He eyed her up and down. 'Not a bad woman at that. Young. Run away from your parents?'
'No,' she said. Then: 'I'm lost. Can you help me?'
The man frowned. He didn't understand. She couldn't understand why the comprehension was one-way.
'A foreigner, eh?' He took a step toward her, and she edged back against the wall.
He stopped, smiling. 'You've got nothing to fear from me,' he said. He had something in his hand. It looked like a brownie or a piece of sheet cake. He was offering it to her.
She took it. It smelled okay, and she took a bite. It was chewy and tasted like an oatmeal cookie with ginger and cinnamon. It was good. She smiled at him.
'Yes, break your fast, because you've got to be on your way. My kindly half-brother's paladins are close on my heels, and they leave no unprotected woman unravished.'
