Chapter Three

A Strange New World

"I'm beginning to hate this god-damn village." I spat as we trudged into it for the second time that day, the inhabitants looking at us even more strangely than before. Evie and I stubbornly ignored them, while Tarren glared right back. "Ignore them, they never looked at me quite the same after that bear incident a few years back, as if it was my fault!" He huffed to himself, making me wonder what exactly the 'bear incident' was. Maybe I would find out later.

Tarren went around to numerous stalls buying a few loaves of some sort of coarse dark bread and a large wheel of what I assumed was some type of local cheese. There were a number of ducks and chickens in cages, chirping mournfully, and a large amount of dried fish and other seafood. There was also a fair amount of fruit which I found interesting, apples, pears, and what looked to be sultanas. Tarren ignored the poultry –I guessed it was expensive – and bought only some salted meat which smelled like pork, and a small sack of some sort of bean, I assumed it required boiling. I idly wondered if scurvy was a common problem here.

Tarren was buying the goods not with money, but with other goods that he had in a bag slung over his back that I hadn't noticed before. He traded mostly fur skins and what I assumed was leather; I wondered if he was a hunter, was this how he made his living? I decided to ask him at a later date. He also bought two strangely shaped material gourds, which he explained to us were to hold water with as we journeyed, and we were to keep them attached to our belts at all times; the weight of it slapping against the side of my leg felt strange, but I assumed I would become adjusted to it.

I wondered about our clothing-pants and long shirts were hardly thick enough to keep us warm if we were sleeping rough-which is what I assumed we would be doing. But I knew clothes would be expensive, and we had nothing of value on us. I already felt strangely rich with the possessions Tarren had given us, rucksacks of our own, with a woollen blanket inside each. It had never occurred to me how important such simple things could be, nor the satisfaction that accompanied having them, far more so than anything I had owned before; perhaps because I knew them to be truly useful, not just a product of consumerism.

I was torn from my thoughts as Tarren addressed us, "I believe we are done here, we have the basic supplies and can pick up more as we go, let us leave and head north."

We followed Tarren in silence, still contemplating this abrupt turn of events.

Walking is a quiet activity, in that it is one of those few times you need only devote your thoughts to putting on foot in front of the other, and the rest of your mind is free to wander as it likes. It was as we set off, Tarren in front and Evie side by side, that I allowed my thoughts to wander, and realised for the first time how beautiful the landscape was. There was no track to follow, so we simply followed Tarren, who seemed to possess an innate knowledge of where we were. The grass was long and wild; the ground was fairly flat with a few gently rolling hills-nothing too difficult to navigate over. Beside us from time to time a stream wound itself nearby to us, foxgloves were growing alongside the banks of the stream, and all was quiet except for the sound of our breaths, and the birdsong. I caught myself straining my ears to hear a far off lawnmower, or the dull hum of an aeroplane far above-but it was silent. After a few hours my legs began to ache, and I could feel blisters on my toes, showing how unused to long distance walking I was, but looking at Evie striding determinedly alongside me, I decided not to complain. We had arrived in this strange place sometime in the early morning, and we only stopped for a break when the sun was high in the sky. Regardless of the wintery season we had felt before, here it seemed like it was summer, as the sun beat down upon us mercilessly. We stopped under the shade of a willow tree by the stream and my stomach grumbled rebelliously. Tarren pulled out one of the dark loaves from his rucksack and the wheel of cheese, he proceeded to rip us off large hunks of the bread, and then passed us both hunks of cheese-cut by what I guessed was a hunting or skinning knife-which we applied to our bread and tucked in with gusto. Although not the type of fare I would usually eat, I found it surprisingly good, although the cheese was very strong. I would soon find myself glad of the food, as breakfast did not appear to exist here, only a long draught of ale before beginning the days journey. Lunch was much the same every day, bread and cheese or pork or fish, and then a light supper of the beans cooked over a little fire in a battered pot with more bread.

I always felt the need to brush my teeth afterwards, but having no toothbrush on hand and only ale in my gourd, I braved drinking from the river and prayed for the state of my teeth when this was over. Seeing my discomfort, Tarren had laughed and given me some fresh mint leaves to chew from one of his numerous pockets. If nothing else it made my breath feel fresh.

We kept walking until the sun was beginning to lower itself in the sky, and I could see my long shadow keeping pace with me. We stopped by the stream-which had widened into a small river by this point-to make camp for the night. Tarren gathered some branches with what little light was left and set about making a fire-a far more difficult exercise than one would think without matches. However Tarren was clearly used to it and we had a small fire going in no time; it not only kept the bulk of the mosquitoes away that had descended with the darkness, but also proved a source of warmth and light. Thankfully with summer it wasn't too chilly, so the prospect of cold food wasn't overly daunting either.

Sleeping on the ground felt strange, I was glad of the blanket wrapped around myself, but I still did not have the best of sleeps-the ground was cold and hard, nothing like the bed I was used to. I wondered then, if I would ever get home to my soft bed and everything I knew. It was during the dark hours of the night that I truly realised my tenuous position in this unfamiliar world, and how alone we really were. I silently cried myself to sleep that night, and would do so for many more.

I woke early; the sun sky was greying on the horizon as the world tilted towards the sun. It was the birdsong that woke me, loud but somehow soothing; lying awake listening to the birdsong in the early hours of the morning was not something I had bothered doing for a long, long time.

The next few days followed in the same pattern; sometimes I felt like we weren't going anywhere, for we passed few defining landmarks. However Tarren forged steadily ahead, keeping our spirits up with funny stories of his youth. He put us at ease almost without trying it seemed, and yet at the same time I couldn't help but notice how little he actually told us about himself; although we ourselves were less than forthcoming. It was late in the first afternoon that he began to question us, not as an interrogation but simple and honest curiosity about our lives and where we were from. Unfortunately we had not had the opportunity to come up with a back story, so all we could do was muddle along. "We are best friends" Evie clarified after he asked if we were sisters, I had grinned at the idea, noting our different looks and most noticeably, heights. Tarren was a large man, but Evie was only half a foot shorter than him, while I was at least a foot and a half below him. I was beginning to feel like a dwarf.

"Do you have dwarves here?" I blurted out in excited as the thought struck me.

Tarren let out a surprised snort, "and elves too? This is no fairy-tale Nikita, though magic is as real as you and I, it is also rare, and not seen in the form of stranger beings. Not in my fathers' fathers time, nor in his before him have there been dwarves." For some reason Tarren always used our full names when speaking to us, oddly formal for the hilarious stories and bellowing laugh his personality belayed.

Evie gave me a look and muttered something about 'Lord-of-the-Rings geek' under her breath. I grimaced, this was what happened when I spoke before thinking.

"So tell me" Tarren said, still grinning, "Tell me about this land from whence you hail"

I gulped. Making up stories was not my strong point, neither was it Evie's but she stepped in anyway. "It's very far from here, so far I don't think It would be possible to reach without magic. And very different. It is safer, people do not openly carry weapons – only soldiers, there to keep the peace."

"And do you have husbands back at home?" Tarren asked.

I drew a blank. I knew that women married young in these times, as young as fourteen, which we were certainly not. Even peasant women which he undoubtedly took us for, would it be too strange if we were unmarried? I didn't think I could deal with having a husband and all the information that would have to come with such a relationship. Hell, back at home I couldn't even manage to keep hold of a boyfriend. I tossed that thought aside quickly though, the old pain quickly extinguished. It had no place in this new world.

As usual, Evie answered for us, she was always the less shy of us both. "We do not, in our village it is customary to marry late, and neither of us had begun courting when we were lost." I was impressed with Evie's quick thinking and fluency with the unusual medieval words. Although thinking about it and the feeling of the words on our tongues, I had a strong suspicion we weren't speaking English at all, but some archaic form of it, Celtic was probably the most likely from this time as the Saxons hadn't invaded yet I assumed. How we could speak and understand it so clearly I did not know. I wondered if it had something to do with the strange voice, and then I wondered if I should tell Evie about it properly or if she would think I was mad. The matter was laying heavily on me.

Tarren distracted me from my thoughts with his usual hearty bellow which always made me jump out of my skin, but I had begun to realize that although it sounded like he had just sat on a pin, it was actually his hearty laughter. "Now that's what I call lucky!" He laughed. "I think it should be this way in all the world, the time to be free when you are young, and one can be shackled to their marriage bed in their older age"

The way he spoke made me think he did not see marriage as a positive thing at all.
"Are you married Tarren?" I asked him quietly.

"The little sparrow speaks!" he laughed causing me to blush. I knew I was quieter than Evie but honestly! His face grew sombre in that moment however as he continued, "No Nikita, I am not married. There is none in this world anymore that I would be with."

I wondered at his wording, and gathered there had been someone once, but knew it would be rude to ask; after all we barely knew each other! Although I guess that would change with all the walking together we would be doing.
"So where did you grow up Tarren?" Evie asked him to break the silence.

He tugged his beard thoughtfully, "I suppose you would not have heard of it, having grown up so far from here, but I lived with my brother in a small village in Calendonia, in the kingdom of Fidach a long way from here, well up north. I left when I was called to war and have not since been back."

"To war I asked?" realizing that I had no real knowledge of this history. I knew Caledonia to be Scotland, and assumed the war would be to do with Arthur's accession to the throne, but trying to rely on ancient myth and legend as tangible fact was difficult. Who knew how much was actually true. In fact, I wondered, had we indeed gone back in time and all that had happened- the fact that King Arthur was a real person for one thing- simply been lost over time? Or was this an alternate universe altogether, where things were not the same at all? I had no answer, and was still half sure it was all a terrible dream, thus I set the difficult questions I had aside, to wrestle over another time.

"Aye, war. When Arthur the boy king called for aid to take his kingdom and fight back the Saxons, we all knew the throne was rightfully his. After all, we all saw it happen. We saw him draw forth the sword from the stone. So we mustered our forces, all loyal men to the king, and marched on Camelot to drive back Vortigern the Usurper. I marched on Briton and we overthrew the traitor. Since then, peace has ruled these lands, but now, there are rumours, rumours of the Angles come again in Northwic, retaking the East…rumours that I intend to reach the kings ears."

On the third day, we reached another village. Tarren called it Y Dref Fawr which I didn't even attempt to pronounce, and promptly forgot; Welsh names were bizarre. It was a slightly larger village then the last one we had frequented, comprising of about twenty buildings including what appeared to be a pub, the town was walled – a sharp reminder of how dangerous these times were- and also held a few larger buildings what Tarren had called the Forum and Basilica –the town hall and law court. I was surprised by the Roman words, but of course, even with the gaps in my history knowledge, I knew it had not been long since this country had been under Roman rule. I simply hadn't realized how much influence they had had on British culture. It made me cold when I realized how soon the tide of Saxons would come and cover all of Britain in an insatiable wave. There would be no holding them back, no stopping them. They came, and conquered, and reforged Britain into what I had known it to be. I knew not when it would happen, only that it was soon, in the next fifty years, I only hoped it wasn't now. But then, our history told no real tales of King Arthur, had he been forgotten in the victory of the Saxons? Or could he turn back the tide? I knew it was all pointless speculation, but I worried all the same. We did not want to be caught in a war.

Tarren picked up some more food supplies of more bread, beans and dried fish-I could barely contain my excitement-and gave Evie and I a few animal skins to trade for a rough woollen dress each- as it would make us stand out less and most importantly in my mind-wouldn't smell like my clothes were beginning to. I was understandably guilty about taking anything of value from Tarren, after all he was already doing so much for us, but I had little other choice.

Evie grinned in delight, "New clothes!"

I rolled my eyes, "Somehow I don't think it will be quite like the shopping we are used to."

Evie shrugged, "New clothes are new clothes." I think she revised her sentiment after we had to settle for two long dresses coloured a drab brown that smelt faintly of goat and scratched to touch. They were woollen, which would keep us warm at night, but sweat like anything during the day. Our own clothes had stood out too much, even the simple stitching had seemed to confuse Tarren no end, because of course It was machine stitching, and smaller and more perfect than any hand could make. He had given up some of this spare cloaks to cover ourselves with so as not to draw unwelcome attention on the road.

The woman who sold the dresses to us left a lasting impression on my mind, she only middle-aged, but she had very few teeth and those she did have were an interesting shade of brown. So far, the dental hygiene I had seen was about on par with personal hygiene-Tarren wiped his teeth with a cloth each night and often chewed wild rosemary or mint when he could find it, he washed his face and splashed water over his hands, armpits and I assumed other private areas when we weren't looking- in river water every morning, but laughed at the idea of bathing every day, or even once a week. We did the same; bathing was impossible in the wild as our clothes would have become damp, and bathing naked with Tarren nearby was too awkward to be an option. We simply cleaned as much of ourselves as we could we a cloth and some soap Tarren had given us (made properly from animal fat and ash he proclaimed proudly) and wiped and rinsed our teeth as much as possible. Toiletry habits was entirely new can of worms for us, which usually simply ended with us going behind trees and using leaves. Somewhat traumatic but imagined staying in a town would be infinitely worse. I switched back to staring at the woman's teeth, clearly not everyone cared about hygiene, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Unable to stop staring at her teeth, we changed behind a rough curtain she had erected for changing purposes-perhaps the first changing room in history, I thought idly-and we left as quickly as we could, meeting up with Tarren outside the pub, where he was staring longingly into the darkness within.

"I could use a drink" Tarren murmured wistfully.

"And dinner?" Evie asked hopefully.

Tarren turned to look at us, his eyebrows raised, "You want to go in there?"

I frowned, perhaps there was some gender etiquette we had yet to learn.

"Is that wrong?" Evie asked nervously.

Tarren shrugged, "The tavern is mostly a man's place, apart from the whores, that's in the city of course, in the villages it doesn't matter so much, after all women are allowed to enjoy ale once in a while too." He smiled, "so why not, I bet you haven't seen a proper Albionic pub yet, so I may as well be the one to introduce you. You shan't get bothered in there with me around, but make sure you stay close; taverns always hold questionable characters." With those words of warning, he strode through the doorway, leaving me wondering if Albionic meant English, but I quickly filed the thought aside for later consideration and followed Tarren and Evie into the tavern.

For the first time in that world, I smelled meat not of the dried variety, and it almost made me drool. Walking into the tavern, I was hit by a wave of smells; unwashed body odour, beer and meat being among the most prominent. Once my eyes had adjusted, I saw a flickering fire set in a stone hearth against one wall, rushes were spread across the floor and low wooden benches and roughly hewn tables were strewn haphazardly throughout the room. It was afternoon, and many of the farmers must have come in off their fields for their afternoon meal, as the room was packed with men and a few women, nursing ales and eating food. Tarren seated us in one of the darker corners of the room, himself on the outside, almost as a wall of protection. I wasn't quite sure whether to be excited or scared at this strange tavern.

Shortly after, a serving girl walked over and asked us what we wanted, Tarren ordered himself ale, and Evie and I one to share, and then to our delight also ordered what he called meat gruel. The efficient but amusing buxom young lady nodded and quickly left.

I stared after her, was she one of the whores Tarren had talked of, or just a serving girl? Abruptly I wondered if the back room of the tavern was some kind of whore-houses, but I dismissed the idea; the town was so small, it was doubtful.

I realised suddenly that Evie was talking to Tarren, and I tuned in.

"-exactly is in this meat stew?" Evie was asking carefully.

Tarren shrugged, "Whatever they caught in the past few days, rabbit probably." With the knowledge that I wouldn't be consuming animal organs or other unmentionables, I perked up, suddenly excited about the prospect of hot fare.

It was quickly served up to us, steaming dark gruel in wooden bowls and large tankards of ale. The stew was good, in a homely sort of way, as for the mead, it was as if someone had taken beer and mixed tar it in; heavy, dark, bitter and somewhat disgusting. I choked on my first gulp, causing Tarren to slap my back heartily-it didn't help. I glared at his grinning face, my own expression grim. "You are a terrible person" I informed him.

If anything, his grin grew wider, "I'll drink to that!" He exclaimed, and downed his own drink, groaning appreciatively.

I handed the tankard to Evie, who eyed it apprehensively before taking a sip. She frowned, "I actually kind of like it." She said, making Tarren choke in surprise. It was my time to grin; Evie always could draw the best reactions from people.

It was a pleasant evening, however it was not to last as Tarren looked up from his second pint of ale and frowned, "That man has been watching us for over an hour" he murmured, surreptitiously pointing to the far left corner of the room.

My stomach gave a nervous swoop as I looked over and saw a tall, slender man with black curly hair and a trimmed beard staring at us with dark eyes; he was probably in his early thirties, and had an eastern look about him. He was handsome, but the cold look on his face ruined it.

I swallowed nervously, looking at Tarren for advice. "What do we do?"

Tarren shrugged, "We wait him out. If he has business with us, he will come to us." The man seemed to somehow know we were talking about him, as without breaking eye contact with us, he slowly rose and began to head our way. I couldn't help but notice the long sword that was buckled to his side, slowly swinging in tandem with his stride as he drew closer.