Black Sea Horan: Turn Around

Thorsten broke into Rose's thoughts, then, with his own far-ranging curiosity. "How did you know what to count, back there on the wall?" He tapped the table a couple of times with a finger, reminding her.

She grimaced. "OCD. I'm a counter." His confused look told her he had no idea what 'OCD' meant. "I can't help it. I automatically start counting any regular, rhythmic sound or motion. 'Bout drove myself insane counting drum beats on the galley."

Diverted, he almost pounced. "You came here to Caffa on a galley ship? With rowers? From where?"

She shook her head, perplexed. "From somewhere to the southeast," was as good as she could answer, remembering the direction of each landward sunrise and watery sunset.

"How long was the voyage?"

"Five days." That much she was sure of.

Thorsten flipped back again to the map, running his finger along the shore of the Black Sea east and then south. It stopped just short of the sketchy mountains. Rose leaned forward, concentrating.

"Yeah... we started up in some mountains, walked... north, I guess, then turned left and walked alongside them towards the northwest until we came to the shore..."

Thorsten's finger moved down into the mountains as she spoke. "So you came from the Circassian Mountains?"

She shrugged. "I guess so."

"And how did you get there? You're not Circassian, you're definitely English."

And they were back to the morass again. Rose bit her lip, staring away at the wall. "You wouldn't believe me..." she repeated.

Thorsten startled her by laying a warm hand over her own as it rested on the table, and she dragged her eyes back to his, warm and sparkling at her. "Try me," he said softly. "I can't argue with the fact that you're here."

So she took a deep breath, and trepidatiously at first, began recounting her story from the moment she'd left the shop.

^..^

Two hours later, throat hoarse, she finally ended, on her ass in the street where he'd bought her freedom. The innkeeper had brought in their supper while she talked, and they had shared the meal like old friends. Thorsten frowned in concentration while she took a sip of the rough red wine to soothe her throat.

"Tell me again what that man – Jared? – what he told you about what is supposed to happen."

"The history lesson? All right..." Rose closed her eyes and concentrated. "He said that during the past few years from now Russia and Sweden had been at war, but Russia won some big battle. The Swedish King, Charles, escaped and went to Moldavia, and tried to get somebody else – the Turks, I think?" Peeking out, she saw him nod, and continued. "Tried to get them to go to war against Russia, and finally succeeded. There's some big battle this July, and the Russian Tsar will agree to a peace treaty, but a very easy one. The problem is that Charles isn't there; he's sulking or something and won't go.

"So apparently, in the other timeline, Russia goes on to become this huge empire. That's not how it went in my history, though – Russia's just this little backwater East Asian country nobody bothers about."

"And Sweden?"

"Yeah, it was a big empire, itself, until recently."

He nodded, thinking. They were silent for a bit, then, "And what about this device? What did you call it? The one that brought you here?"

"The time jumper? The 'Captain' – I mean, the leader of that slave raid – he stole it from me."

"He likely has it with him, then. If he was on horseback, then he's one of the Tatar cavalry, and would have left with the army today."

But Rose was shaking her head. "No, he doesn't have it any more. He gave it to that other man, the Prince... I think he called him 'Khan' something..."

Thorsten looked at her sharply. "Khan Giray?"

"Yes, that's it! Do you know where we can find him?"

"He's also gone. He left two days ago, leading the first contingent."

Her suddenly soaring hopes were equally suddenly dashed on the rocks. "Nooooo!" she half-wailed, despairing. How could she ever find it and get it back now?

He covered her hand again, grinning wolfishly. "Not to worry. The Khan is taking his army to join the army of the Sultan, to crush Tsar Peter. The Russian invasion has already begun. We'll meet the Khan on the field of that last battle, when we get there. Where will it be?"

Rose thought furiously, trying to remember. Slowly, though, her head began shaking again. "He never said. Jared never said the name of the place."

Thorsten blew out his breath in an exasperated raspberry, then shook his own head. "Well, it doesn't matter. Two great armies like that can't be too hard to find." He grinned. "First things first. We need to get to Bender and convince Charles to come out of his tent."

He picked up the book again and began studying the map. Suddenly it all fell into place for Rose. "You're a spy!" she accused him, not altogether unhappy. "You're Charles's spy!"

He shot her an offended look. "Madame, please! I do not skulk around, pretending to be someone I'm not. I travel quite openly. Well," he amended, grinning, belying the offense, "quietly. But I do not lie." He turned serious. "I'm Charles's attache, and an observer, sent by and representing the Swedish Ruling Council. Charles asked me to go and 'observe' the Russians building their forts and ships in Azov," he tapped the map, on the dot at the far northeast end of the Sea of Azov, "and then I made my way down here along the eastern shore," and his finger traced that route back to Caffa.

"And now I will take you back to Bender, and together we can 'observe' how to motivate a King to war."

Rose was suddenly struck with how seriously he was discussing all this.

"You... you believe me?" she quavered softly.

He leaned back on one elbow, studying her with a level look. "Well, the first part of your history lesson is certainly true – although I suppose you could have learned that from street talk. The Russian army is on its way south, the Turkish army is gathering to meet it, and I left Carolus – Charles," he corrected himself at her quizzical look, "sulking in his tent six months ago.

"We'll have to see if the rest of it comes true – but as a Swede, I'd certainly rather see my country come out on top than the Russians. If Charles's presence at the battle is what turns the tide, then by all means, let's get him there!" His voice was suddenly infused with infectious enthusiasm, making it sound like a game. A game they could win.

He glanced at the window, which was now quite dark. "We'll need to leave early in the morning." Suddenly he looked abashed. "Uh... I'm sorry, but they only had this one room open. Would it be all right with you if we shared it? There are plenty of cushions to make beds far apart."

She smiled at the table, blushing. "Yes, that's OK. I trust you," she added quietly, realizing even as she spoke that it was completely true.

So they stood, and each piled rugs and cushions to their taste, on opposite sides of the room, then settled down to sleep in their clothes.

For the first time since her life had been wrenched so dreadfully off course, Rose drifted off to sleep with a quiet note of hope threading through her heart. She might just make it home, after all. Hang on, baby, she sent out to the ether. I'm trying.