Broken and Alone
The movement in the woods was getting closer, the shouting voices louder and Sherlock stood his ground in front of me; prepared to face what or who ever should emerge through the thickness of the trees. His eyes sharply focused as his eyes darted around our surroundings. One hand gently holding me back and the other tightly gripped on his riding crop.
"Go now Samantha! Before it is too late," Sherlock demanded, failing to mask the panic in his voice.
"I'm not leaving you here, Sherlock," I countered. "I told you, we do this together."
"Yes, well, not much good that will do if we are both caught in a place where we clearly do not belong and where Mycroft's house maids have obviously had some sort of connection to," he argued.
I managed to catch a few glimpses of men between the gaps of the trees and bushes; the sun reflecting off some of the weapons they carried, only fueling my worry.
"Come hither fair mistress!" A middle aged man dressed in tight fitting pants, dark brown boots, and a long blue top came bounding up to us on a jet black horse, extending his hand out to me.
"Quickly, I can grant thee safe keeping, but we must depart now!"
"Safe keeping from what?" I cried. "I'm not going anywhere!"
Sherlock faced the man on horse back, who was looking more and more like some twisted version of Robin Hood, only in blue not green and a dagger strapped to his belt. He exchanged looks between me and this new stranger who appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
"You've seen something like this before, have you not?" Sherlock asked him.
"Aye sir and it shall not end well if we do not part soon."
"And you can assure her safety?"
"Verily," the man replied.
Sherlock turned to me and grabbed hold of my shoulders, looking deep into my eyes with an insane amount of sorrow and regret.
"You must go Samantha," he whispered, touching his forehead to mine.
I shook my head in refusal.
"Now is not the time to be stubborn!" he insisted, pressing harder against me. "I'll be along shortly darling, but you must leave."
"They are nearly here, come mistress!" the man pleaded.
I dug my heels further into the dirt and stood my ground. "No," I said firmly.
Sherlock sighed and pressed a hurried kiss on my cheek.
"I'm deeply sorry Samantha."
Before I had anytime to react, he had lifted me up and tossed over the back of the man's horse. The two of them exchanged nods before Sherlock's sad eyes met mine once more as the horse took off towards the opposite side of the surrounding woods.
"HOLMES!" I shouted, "Damn you Holmes!" I began to swat hopelessly at the rider's legs. "Take me back you bastard! You can't just leave him there!"
"I regret to say that there is nothing we can do at the present time," he answered, keeping his eyes straight ahead as we rode.
I looked back only to see a group of at least ten men surrounding Sherlock with their clubs and various forms of daggers and what looked like battle axes. He was light on his feet, thank god for that, but outnumbered nonetheless. While he managed to doge many strikes in his direction and making his fair share of whacks from his riding crop; it didn't stop them from ultimately closing in on him. My eyes tearing up at the sounds of his painful cries as one of their clubs made contact with his body.
"Please," I begged. "We have to go back!"
"Nay," he answered, slipping between the trees and down a small slope.
I waited until we had reached a somewhat clear area and ignoring the god awful pain in my ribs, proceeded to roll my self off the horse and onto the ground. Pushing my self up, I attempted to make a run for it; attempted as in failed miserably thanks to the roots, landing me face down in a pile of dirt. I was met eye level with a pair of familiar brown boots and an outstretched hand.
"They will not take his life," the man said softly as he helped me to my feet. "We must continue on if thou wish to help him and save thyself."
"Help him how?"
"You must have faith in me mistress, and we must keep going." He whistled for his horse and gave me a weak smile, nodding as he clasped his hands together and lowered them into a makeshift stirrup. Reluctantly I placed my foot on top and used his shoulder for a little bit of extra boost while climbing back onto his dark companion. He got on behind me and wasted no time in picking up speed as we flew through the maze of trees and effortlessly sailed over fallen tree trunks.
We came to a stop at a farm house; land as far as the eye could see, all coated in a plush carpet of bright green grass. Sheep and cows grazed freely in the fields and the soft calls of chickens could be heard coming from the hen house. There was a large barn adjacent to a good sized home and two other smaller buildings; all of them aged and hand built with tedious care. The man guided his horse into the barn and into an empty stable and filled his food bucket with a fresh batch of feed before patting the side of its neck.
"Rest now Linota, thy have done well today," the man whispered affectionately.
He then picked up a bucket and filled it with the nearby pump and motioned to me with his head to follow him into the house. Inside there was a woman rocking in a chair next to the fire and an elderly man pacing the floor.
"No good shall come of this, bringing yet another wench into this home," the elderly man scolded my protector.
"Would thou rather I left her to those wretched heathens?"
"She will be no trouble to us father," the woman spoke up in a sweet and gentle voice.
"Many thanks to thee, Clarice," my guardian said.
He led me to a wooden bench seat; setting the bucket of water down on the floor he gently began to wash the dirt and grime away from the scrapes that lined my arms.
"I am Addison and this is my wife Clarice," he said nodding to the woman in the chair. "What, pray tell, might your name be."
"Samantha."
"And the one we left behind?"
"His…" I took a deep breath and pushed the last images I had of him out of my head. "His name is Sherlock," I whispered, stinging tears threatening to fall down my cheeks.
"Thou are not the first maiden to come upon us in such strange circumstances, but this much thy has already known."
I nodded and stared blankly into the fire, trying not to loose what little patience I had left. I had been forced to leave him behind to face lord only knows what, and there was nothing I could do about it. This man, Addison, may have taken me to a safe place, but at what cost? To make it this far and than loose the one person I had given up everything for, the one man that could manage to infuriate me and warm my soul at the same time. Now I was stuck in some whacked out era alone.
Broken and alone.
"All is not lost, Samantha," Addison said softly.
"You told me they wouldn't kill him."
"Aye."
"Then what will they do?" I asked, my fists clenched tightly in my khakis. "AND HOW THE HELL DO I GET HIM BACK!" I shouted, roughly pushing myself to my feet, kicking over the water in the process.
"Now, now," Addison's wife Clarice said placing her hands on my shoulders. "Calm thyself, Samantha, as my good husband has said, this is not the first time such events have come to pass."
"The other girls were alone, were they not?" I shortly asked.
"Aye," Addison replied, "But as for the one that accompanied thee, he shall be taken into the town and sold for slavery."
"WHAT?"
"Do not fret, Samantha; a farmer requires many farm hands, I oft frequent the marketplace, on the morrow, we shall go and seek him out for purchase."
"And what happens if he isn't there?"
"He appeared to be far too rambunctious for anyone to keep up after," Addison smirked. "All will fair well."
Addison stood and approached his wife, softly pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Clarice, my love, will thou kindly show our guest to her quarters whilst I cleanse myself."
Clarice nodded with a smile before turning her eyes on me. "This way Samantha," she said, her arm making a sweeping motion toward the stairs.
The room was simple; a bed along with a small desk, vanity, and a dresser, precariously placed in just the right places to make most of the space being used. She brought me something to sleep in while my clothes were washed and sent me up a tray of food when I refused to come down and eat. I wasn't hungry anyhow, not for food anyway, the only hunger I had was for the sun to set and rise again so we could find Sherlock and get him out of the marketplace before someone else put a price on his dark disheveled head. So I sat, stoic, on the stiff mattress, dressed in the simple yellow dressing gown that was provided for me, the food tray untouched and my thoughts terrorizing my mind.
Don't say I didn't warn you Samantha. It's only natural for something to go wrong when it comes to you. Combine that with Sherlock Holmes and you have a full fledged shit storm on your hands.
"We will get him back tomorrow, find the girls and go home; despite this annoying setback," I answered my pestering thoughts.
Annoying setback, my inner voice mocked. More like a total fuck up, but then again, you are used to that aren't you. And whose home will you be returning to exactly. The dreary skied Victorian London, or the lonesome bakery, smack dab in the middle of tourist-ville.
"Where ever he'd rather be; that much I have already decided."
Where are we anyway? Maid Marian down there seemed less than surprised at your arrival.
"She said I wasn't the first," I whispered. "So who was? And where are they now?"
Exactly; she must be lurking around this place somewhere…or dead.
"Always the pessimist," I sighed rubbing my scalp.
Your thoughts Samantha, I only make them a little more noticeable.
"I don't recall asking for any such thing."
Don't bother denying the fact that you don't enjoy my company. In fact you crave that extra push I give you from time to time.
"Go away," I demanded, squeezing my eyes shut and tugging at my hair.
Well since you asked so nicely, my brain scoffed. I'll be back soon enough; when you need me most.
"How fortunate for me," I murmured, blowing the hair from my face and pulling my knees to my chest.
The sun had finally decided to set and calm a small amount of my emotional discomfort. I was, however, growing restless from staying cooped up in one spot for the last several hours, even if it was by my own choice. Slipping on my shoes; I crept down the stairs of the now silent house and wandered my way out into the barn.
The horse Addison had called Linota blew out a short puff of air when I slid the door closed behind me. I pushed a stool over to her stall and stepped up to run my hand over her silken coat, her large brown eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into my touch as I pet her.
"I suppose I should thank you," I chuckled softly. "Who knows what would have happened to me if your owner hadn't been around."
She gave her tail a swish and pushed into my hand some more as if she were grateful for my thanks. The large dark animal seemed to be calming my nerves; every once and a while she would push her nose up under my hand and force it over her head where I would give her a quick scratch behind the ear before giving her a friendly pat. I stayed there with her for a while, enjoying the relaxation she was giving me with each pass I made over her coat. A rustling on the outside of the barn caused both of us to go still and focus our attention on the heavy door. Slowly; it slid open revealing a girl slightly smaller than me and dressed in a similar night gown, only pale pink in color.
"Oh, so sorry Miss," she quickly apologized, taking a step backwards. "I didn't think anyone would be out here this late."
She took a few steps closer when I didn't reply. Her long blonde hair was swept to the side in a braid and she looked at me with large kind green eyes.
"Are you alright then Miss?" she asked smiling softly. "Can I get you anything?"
I gave a short laugh and shook my head; relieved to hear some form of familiar speech. Looks like I had found number one out of six, and she was very much alive.
"What's your name?" I asked her.
"Mary," she replied, narrowing her eyes at me in curiosity. "Mary Allerdice. And who might you be?"
"Fantastic!" I grinned, thinking about the M.A embroidered handkerchief Sherlock currently had stuffed into his pocket.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?" she demanded, taking a step closer. "Did…did you…did you…oh never mind," she sighed, "It's not likely anyhow."
"What's not?" I smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Falling into a bush and coming out of a tree straight into the thirteenth century?"
"Fifteenth," she countered. "1426 to be exact." Mary covered her face with both her hands and started to laugh. "So it's true then? You are the same as me!"
"Not exactly."
"Well besides the obvious fact that you're American."
"And from 2010," I mumbled.
"You're from the future!"
"So are you, in case you've forgotten."
"Well yes, but you even more so," she exclaimed with wide eyes. "How did that happen, are there more of them, is there a way to get back?"
"I don't know. First I have to get Sherlock bac-"
"Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes!" Mary snorted. "Well glad to see Mr. Holmes still runs off to his brother if he can't do it himself. But if you are from that far in the future how are you acquainted with Mr. Holmes?"
"Never mind that now," I said shaking my head. "What about the other girls? Where are they?"
"Haven't a clue. When I came out these men were after me, but then Mr. Addison found me and brought me here. There were three more after me, but he didn't get to them in time."
"So they ended up in the marketplace right?" I asked.
"No," she whispered, sadly shaking her head. "They're gone; we don't know what happened to them." Tears were now falling down Mary's face. "Mr. Addison fears the worst for them, said that no good will come to a bunch of women claiming to be from the future."
"We'll find them all right," I said, placing my hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her. "We're going to get Sherlock back, find the rest of the girls, and get you home."
"But how?" she asked, brushing away her tears.
"Afraid I'll have to get back to you on that part." I said with a chuckle and a sideways grin.
Mary smiled through her glossy green eyes and without warning pulled me into a tight hug.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I knew if I waited long enough help would come. Thank you so much." She pulled back and turned to leave the barn. "I should get back, in case someone needs something."
"Mary?" I called after her. "Samantha, my name is Samantha; sorry I never answered you before."
"Goodnight then, Samantha," she said softly before sliding the barn door closed.
A/N: My good god this chapter kicked my ass! God how I would kill for a medieval translator...I've searched and searched and have come to the conclusion that one does not exist. But I finished it nonetheless, and I think it turned out all right. Hope you enjoyed, as usual let me know and whatnot.
-Shelly
