A/N: you might have seen it on ffnet's main page that now there's an option to reply to your reviews by clicking on 'reply' in the review board. So, I sent replies to every registered reviewer who commented on chapter 7. I hope you all got my responses. However, it IS now clearly FORBIDDEN to post review responses here in the chapter, so, if you posted an unsigned review on chapter 7, then I couldn't reply to it. I saved the review responses that I wrote to the unsigned reviewers, so if you want me to send you what I wanted to put here, then either submit a signed review this time or put your email addy into the bracket where it belongs and tell me to send you the comments that I'm not allowed to display here. (Unsigned reviewers whom I wanted to respond to in this chapter are: Queen Dragon, SPG, chocolate smudge and Anonymous).
Since you seemed to like my descriptions about Budapest, I decided to give you a few photos about it – mostly about the Parliament and the Castle of Buda. I linked them into my ffnet bio and they will remain there for a few weeks/months (in case you're reading this fic months after I published it and the links are no longer in my bio, feel free to email me for Budapest photos).
Also thanks to those who reviewed but whom I couldn't write anything 'interesting' as a response: frenchpiment, Fleury, Trouble Kelp, The OddBird, Chaos Ritual, Lii, PoweroftheFrogs, MissEcoFreakTheDarkPrecursor, Epsilon2Delta (nice seeing you again!), flyyydreamgrl - I value all of you, even if you only write 'hey, nice chapter, keep it coming!'
Chapter 8
Journey to the Past
"To the Western Railway Station, please," Artemis said after he, Patrick and Mulch had taken their seats in a taxi at Ferihegy 2, Budapest's airport.
As soon as he had got his suitcase at the luggage claim, Artemis had fished a translator out of it and inserted it into his left ear; and since the tiny contraption worked both ways, not only did he understand everything that people of different nations said, but the taxi driver too understood every word he said in English, and believed him to be a born Hungarian.
After a ride on a rather bumpy track of motorway, the taxi arrived in the downtown of Budapest.
"Could you drive us across one of the bridges?" Patrick asked. "I'd love to see that view again, it seemed beautiful from the plane's window."
"I could, young man, but it would cost you loads more," the driver replied, "as the airport and the Western Railway Station are both in Pest. If I drove you over to Buda and then back to Pest, then…"
"Money does not matter," Artemis cut in. "And we have two hours before our train's departure. If my little brother wants to see the city panorama, then let him have it. You choose the bridge, but make sure you choose the one from where we get the best view."
"As you wish, sir," the driver replied, shocked. He had been living off taxi driving for seventeen years, but no one yet had been willing to pay him more than necessary just to have an opportunity for some sightseeing. At first sight he'd thought these three were foreigners, but they were speaking flawlessly in Hungarian, so they couldn't be foreigners, could they? They must be entrepreneurs, as only those and the politicians got rich enough here to spend more than necessary, the driver established. "Er… may I ask which part of the country you come from?" he asked after a few minutes of silent driving. "I assume you're not from Budapest…"
"True, we've never been to Budapest before, well, only once when we travelled to the airport to fly to Ireland," Artemis replied. "We're from Szeged, by the way."
"Oh, Szeged? My aunt lives there," the driver replied as the taxi drove over the Margaret Bridge. "There, you have it, young man. The loveliest view of Budapest you can get from a bridge. 'Course you could get an even better view from the Fisherman's Bastion or the Palace of Buda… That's the Chain bridge over there, the oldest of all. The Parliament… I expect you've seen that on TV at least, that's where all the bigheads gather to figure out how to lower our living standards even more… They and their big ideas! Especially the Euro, oh my gosh! One will never get used to it! Last year we still had the Forints, this year we have the Euros, and one goes mad by converting them in the head! Of course the bigheads in the Parliament said it was necessary, and how wonderful it is that we finally met the conv… convwhatsis criteria…"
"Maastricht convergence criteria," Artemis said in a bored voice.
The driver kept complaining (typical Hungarian mentality, Artemis noted to himself) for the rest of the journey that was thankfully only a few minutes as the Margaret Bridge was quite close to the Western Railway Station.
Artemis paid for the journey and the passengers quickly lifted their only suitcase out of the taxi's boot. All three of them were glad to be able to say farewell to their over-talkative driver.
o o o O O O o o o
Fowl Manor, Ireland"Cesare, how nice to see you!" Artemis the First greeted his friend with a forced smile. Normally he would have been indeed happy to see his old school mate, but with the whole Holly-kidnapping and his son leaving, he was too nervous to feel happy about anything.
"Thank you, Tim." The Italian man shook hands with the lord of Fowl Manor. "I hoped I wouldn't be disturbing the lovebirds if I turned up here for a little chat…"
"The lovebirds? Oh, Artemis and Holly," Fowl Senior said somewhat shakily.
Mr. Cavalieri's face darkened. "Are you all right, Tim? You look pale."
"Oh, nothing." Artemis the First waved and forced the smile to return to his face. "Just tired. Couldn't sleep all night. Must be the full moon…"
"Ah, I see. So, how're the newlyweds doing?"
"Fine, thank you," Mr Fowl replied. At that moment he felt an inexplicable urge to correct himself and tell Cesare everything about the kidnap, but he remembered that his son had wanted to keep it a secret, for Holly's sake. Not that he couldn't trust Cesare, of course not, he told himself, but still, Arty had wanted to keep it from everyone who's not part of the family. He hadn't even told his parents the details, only that he was to leave for Hungary… And well, that wasn't something he had to keep from others, was it? "They are doing wonderfully. Though my son has recently left for Hungary." Artemis the First shrugged.
"Hungary?" Cesare's eyes flashed for a second, but his friend didn't notice.
"Yes, some urgent business trip."
"And doesn't the charming Holly miss him on their honeymoon?" Cesare asked benignly.
"Yes, she surely misses him, but she's very understanding."
"A nice little housewife, eh?" The Italian man chuckled.
"Well, not exactly… actually, quite far from it. Holly used to be working for the Police before she hooked up with my son. She was a police officer, even. Well, my Arty has always had weird taste…" Fowl Senior laughed, but anyone could have noticed how forced that laugh was. "But she's a wonderful girl, really, I couldn't wish for a nicer mate for my son. Actually, if I didn't have Angie, I would probably fall for her too," he added with a wink.
"No wonder, she's pretty and clever. She speaks… how many languages exactly?" Cavalieri wondered. "I remember her mentioning it when I first met her to sign the employment contract, but I can't recall the number."
"Somewhere around fifteen, I'd say," his friend replied thoughtfully. As his eyes met Cesare's, he had a strange feeling. A feeling of déjà vu. As if he had talked to his friend about Holly once before… but when? And where? And what had he told him? No matter how he racked his brains, he couldn't remember.
o o o O O O o o o
On the way from Budapest to Szeged"So, where exactly are we going from here?" Mulch asked Artemis on the train. For the journey's duration Artemis had removed the translator from his ear and the trio kept changing languages from English to German, from French to Italian, hoping that the other passengers wouldn't understand it. They had to resort to this measure, as the train they had taken apparently had no compartments, only wagons full of seats. No privacy at all, not to mention the torn covers of the seats and the graffiti all over the walls…
"Szeged," Artemis replied. "A fairly big town in southern Hungary. Allegedly Attila had his camp somewhere around that place."
"And how will we travel back in time if we don't know the exact date of Attila's death?" Patrick wondered. "Or do we?"
"No." His father shook his head. "According to history books, Attila died in spring of 453, so we are going to travel back to say, May 1st, 453, and find out whether he's dead already or not. If yes, then we go back a few more weeks in time, if not, then we stay there and find his camp."
"And what are we going to do with that?" The dwarf pointed at their suitcase. "I doubt we could take that back in time and tell the Huns that it's the latest Irish satchel design…"
"Simple: leave it in the hotel room," Artemis said. "And by the way, Mulcius, we aren't Irish thus we can't be coming from Hibernia. We come from Britannia that has been rudely colonised by the evil Roman Empire. Patrick – Patricius - and I are two brothers on our way to Thracia were Honoria, my bride-to-be, the daughter of a rich merchant is awaiting me to marry her and take her to my homeland. We are taking you as a gift to my future father-in-law-"
"Yeah, 'course," Mulch grunted.
"…and we are seeking temporary accommodation in the great Hun king's camp, as my little brother has fallen ill and since the evil Romans took our horses from us, we cannot continue the journey if we don't rest for a few days," Artemis explained and the dwarf started to chuckle. "What's so funny, Mulch?"
"Noooothing, Arty, I just imagined you riding a horse…"
Patrick stifled a giggle too as his eyes met Mulch's. His father would surely die of horror if he even had to go near a horse, let alone ride it… Juliet had once told him about the 'gecko incident' in the Mexican jungle, and if Artemis could be so frightened of a little lizard like that, then Patrick couldn't help but laugh when imagining how Artemis would react to something as big as a horse. He could see in his mind's eyes as his father started to lecture everyone who would listen that horses were unclean, spread various illnesses and carried ticks. Explain the Lyme Disease to the Huns, they would surely appreciate it a lot…
"So, back to the original topic, we leave the suitcase in the hotel room and hope that we can come back just in time before the hotel's staff notice that the residents of that room are missing," the dwarf concluded. "I just hope that the hotel rooms are better than the trains… I've been to several horrible places before, but this train is undoubtedly beneath contempt."
"And imagine that the poor Hungarians have to travel with it day by day…" Patrick wrinkled his nose. "They have all my sympathy."
o o o O O O o o o
Underground fairy colony, 453 A. D.
"I seriously don't understand you, Alexius!"
"No surprise here, you've never understood me, Rufus," came the bored reply.
"But you know what I'm talking about this time, don't you?"
Alexius heaved a sigh. "I expect you're referring to my fiancée, dear cousin."
"Exactly!" the elf named Rufus snapped. "You can't be serious about marrying that… that… Mud Man-loving wench!"
"Hold your tongue!" Alexius snapped.
"No, Cousin, I won't hold my tongue as long as you don't realise what a huge mistake you're about to make! That girl is a shamed one, Alex! She lost her fairy honour when she started consorting with the Mud People! She's practically living in their camp and is probably hopelessly smitten with that king Attila or who…!"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Alexius said darkly. "She's just a freedom-loving creature, but she's not evil, and for your information, only a few people at this colony know that she's living above ground and being friendly with the humans. We could keep it silent after I marry her… after all, I don't intend to live here all my life… the city that those gnomes are building is almost ready for the People to start moving in. What's its name again? Haven or something?"
"Yeah," Rufus grunted. "So, you'd be willing to leave this colony and settle down in Haven just because people there don't know that your fiancée is a bitch?"
"One more comment like that and…"
"And what? You're going to beat your only cousin? Alex, Alex…" Rufus shook his head. "You're too young and rash to judge things properly. True that your father and hers had promised you two to each other when you were mere children, but that promise doesn't bind you. It binds her, but not you. You could break it any time, and that's exactly what you should do! You shouldn't have anything to do with a fairy who rebels against her folk and parades in the Huns' camp all the time! Even if you managed to force her to marry you, what kind of wife would she be, huh? A wife who'd keep longing to leave you all her life and return to her beloved human king?"
"She doesn't love that-" Alexius protested, but Rufus carried on vehemently:
"…or a wife whom people who live here now and who happen to move to Haven would recognise and start pointing at, calling her a traitorous little trollop and calling you an idiot because you decided to marry someone like her? Is that what you want?"
The younger of the two heaved a sigh.
"Oh, I see," his cousin said in a derisive tone. "You've fallen in love with her. Holy Frond, Cousin, you've only seen her once, how can you know she's good enough for you then?"
"True, I've only seen her once, and that wasn't enough to establish that she isn't good enough for me!" Alexius riposted. "And just to let you know, she was very kind to me, not a bit hostile, even though she had every reason to hate me, the evil elf who's about to rob her of her freedom. She was polite and nice. And sad. But not rebellious. She told me how much she detested the marriage law and how much she loved the aboveground nature. She was being honest, Cousin. Honest and so innocent…"
Rufus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I bet she did everything in her power to make you feel pity for her and let her go. I bet she even cried... Judging by your expression, she did. That little wench is an excellent actress, and she was manipulating you, Alex. She knew well that if she'd been hostile and rebellious, then you would have regarded taking her a challenge and you would have risen to it. But seeing a crying, pathetic girl would move the most cold-hearted elves too, and she was hoping to wake pangs of remorse in you… Hoping to make you break your promise and give her her freedom back. So why not do it, Alex, if that's what she wants? She doesn't want you!"
"But she will," Alex replied seriously. "She's the purest, most wonderful girl I've ever known, and I will fight for her love. And if I fail, then I will release her, but not until then."
"Knowing you, little cousin, you will never give up," Rufus snorted. "Apparently I'm wasting my time here because you aren't willing to listen to the voice of reason. Good-bye, Alex."
o o o O O O o o o
A hotel room in Szeged, 4 p.m., 15th July, 2016 A.D.
"Hey, this looks cool!" Patrick whistled admiringly as he twirled around in front of a full-length mirror. He was wearing a greyish blue set of clothes that consisted of a tunic and something that slightly resembled a pair of trousers. The 'golden' buckle on his belt was definitely fake, but looked just as nice as the real thing. "I look a bit like Robin Hood, right, Dad? I mean… Brother?"
"Robin Hood in blue, of course," Artemis replied with a sarcastic grimace and turned his attention to his own attire. He was wearing a mustard-coloured tunic and burgundy trousers with a belt and buckle made apparently of silver. Juliet had even added a funny-looking cap to Artemis's attire that made him feel like a complete idiot, but he had to admit that it at least fit the other pieces of his clothing. Apparently Juliet hadn't found any boots that looked ancient enough and had painted two pairs of Wellington boots black for Artemis and Patrick. Hopefully the Huns wouldn't ask what kind of material it was made of, or they would have trouble explaining what rubber exactly was.
It was the dwarf's attire that Juliet had paid the least attention to: it seemed that she'd just visited a children's clothes boutique and bought a simple-looking coat and a pair of duck trousers that she painted an ugly shade of maroon. No boots, no belt, no cap. After all, a servant didn't need fancy clothing, did he? All that Juliet did for the dwarf's comfort was to create a bum-flap on the trousers' back.
"I think you two look funny enough," Mulch said cheerfully, arranging the things they wanted to take back in time in an old-looking satchel, covering them with a camfoil inside the satchel and sealing it with a rusty-looking clasp.
"I feel like someone who's about to play in a Shakespeare drama," Artemis grunted, fishing a thin necklace out of the pocket of his suit.
"What's that for?" Patrick asked.
"Obviously, if I'm about to get engaged to fair Honoria of Thracia, I can't be wearing a wedding ring already, can I?" his father asked, pulling his golden ring off his finger and attaching it on the necklace.
"But you can't part with it, eh?" The boy arched an eyebrow at him as he slipped the necklace around his neck and hid the 'medallion' in his tunic. "You're getting sentimental, Big Brother."
"You're getting cheeky, little brother," Artemis replied, inserting the translator into his ear. "And apparently our kleptomaniac friend is really enjoying our bantering…"
Mulch indeed barely could hide his mirth as he pulled the satchel on his shoulder. "You two strongly remind me of an old married couple…"
"Holly and I've been quarrelling ever since we know each other, and Patrick has inherited a lot of his mother's temper, that must be the reason," Artemis said with the shadow of a smile on his face. "Gentlemen, let's set our time-machines to 1st May, 453. Ready? Well, then, let's go."
The three of them pushed the 'travel' button on their 'watches', and in the next instant they were gone.
o o o O O O o o o
The forest where Szeged stands today, 1st May, 453. A.D.
"Lovely place, isn't it?" Mulch said as he looked around. The time machine brought them to a small clearing covered with a thick carpet of daisies. Nearby a creek cascaded down a few rocks, winding its way into the thickets and disappearing from view behind a few eglantine bushes.
"Yes, lovely," Artemis replied, "too bad that all this beauty might be ruined in a few years… I mean, in a few years from our time."
"What are you talking about, Da… Bro?" Patrick asked, bending over the creek to splash a bit of water on his face.
"Rosia Montana," young Fowl said sullenly.
"Rose what?" The dwarf blinked.
"Rosia Montana is a tiny village in Transylvania, not far from here, just over the Hungarian-Rumanian border. That is to say, the border that exists in 2016."
"And what's up with that village?"
"A Canadian company wants to exploit the golden reserves that are in the mountains around the village. They would need to use cyan technology to get the gold out of the rock, and it would kill the ecosystem around there and would endanger Szeged and its surroundings as well. Not to mention that the Rosia Montana Gold Corporation has been buying out the estates in the village – psychological warfare against the remaining villagers. They think that if the villagers see that most houses around them are sold and bear the script 'owned by the Rosia Montana Gold Corporation', they will feel a need to sell their homes as well, and finally the Canadians will own the whole place and start the newest eco-disaster."
"Sounds bad enough…" Patrick said contemplatively. "You know, Dad, it's kind of weird to hear you defending a little Transylvanian village against a gold mining company… after all, isn't gold power?"
Artemis gave his son a sour smile. "It is… and it isn't. I can no longer decide. I think I've just changed too much recently. I've always despised those who pollute the environment, but profit always used to be the first, more important than anything…"
"But you've changed for the better." Patrick laid a hand on his father's shoulder with an encouraging smile.
"Have I?" Artemis asked bitterly, turning away from the boy. For Patrick, there was no need to ask what Artemis had referred to.
"Did you hear that?" Mulch asked all of a sudden.
"What?"
"That tinny sort of sound. Listen!"
Artemis and Patrick perked up their ears, and in a minute they too could hear what Mulch had heard much earlier.
"What could it be?" the boy wondered.
"Sounds an awfully lot like armoured people marching," Artemis said. "Probably Romans… but they aren't supposed to be here, so near to Attila's residence… they're afraid of the Hun King, after all… Attila defeated them too many times to earn their fear and respect."
"Let's have a look, shall we?" Diggums beckoned to the other two, and the trio crossed the clearing, fought their way across the thick undergrowth and in a few minutes arrived at the edge of the forest.
"As I told you, Roman legions," Artemis established. "Curious, most curious…"
Before Patrick could have asked 'what's curious?', the Roman who was riding at the front spotted them and galloped over to them. "Hey, you, peasants, is this the right way to Aquincum?"
"Where?" Patrick frowned.
"Aquincum, peasant, the county town of Pannonia Inferior," the Roman, who seemed to be a tribune, replied haughtily.
"First, we aren't peasants, second, we have absolutely no idea where this Aquincum is," the boy snapped.
"Patricius!" Artemis glowered at him, then turned to the tribune. "Excuse my little brother, oh defender of the Great Roman Empire, he's too young and thoughtless. As far as I know, Aquincum is in the north, so you're heading in the right direction."
The soldier's eyes narrowed. "I don't know why I should believe you… Pannonia is full of no-good swindlers, even the Emperor said the people in this land cannot be trusted..."
"With all due respect, sir, why are you asking us if you don't believe us?" Artemis said. "And why would Emperor Theodosius not trust the people of this land?"
"Theodosius?" The tribune furrowed his brows, though it was mostly hidden by his helmet. "I've never heard of an Emperor Theodosius."
"No?" Artemis blinked. "Then… then who's the emperor?"
"You lowly, mangy dogs, you don't even know who rules the world?" the Roman hissed.
"I'd say Bill Gates," Mulch chimed in.
"His majesty," the Roman began, "the divine Antonius Pius, who is favoured by Jupiter, the greatest god of all-"
"Antonius Pius?" Artemis gasped. "Damn it!"
"What?" Patrick whispered, not having the slightest idea what his father was so upset about.
"We came back too many years in time," Artemis whispered back.
"What…?"
"You three look very suspicious to me," the tribune grunted and beckoned to a few soldiers behind him. "Seize them!"
o o o O O O o o o
Cesare Cavalieri's Manor near Kilkenny, 2016. A.D.
Holly was losing track of time. How long had she been living in this golden cage? Six days? Seven? Perhaps she should have started drawing lines on the wall every day, but she didn't even have a pen or pencil for that purpose.
Never in her life had she felt so bored before.
She couldn't have complained about the comfort: the apartment she was enclosed in had an enormous bed and an elegant bathroom. She got excellent meals three times a day and Emese had once even brought her a stack of magazines to read. However, by now she had read every word in every magazine (mostly women's magazines that she found downright ridiculous – what could human females find so interesting about fashion and movie stars?). So, the only pastime she could make up for her own entertainment was lying down, closing her eyes and reliving the best moments of her life.
Her mother whom she'd known only for a few years; her father telling her fairy tales; Commander Root shouting at her (she had to grin at the memory); Artemis kidnapping her; her punching Artemis in the face (she couldn't help but giggle); herself giving Artemis a coin; Artemis grabbing her and jerking her to himself on the weight-sensitive doormat of Spiro's lab; the 'birth' of her son; the first time Patrick uttered 'computer'; Artemis entering her room wearing nothing but a towel (big sigh); Artemis cradling her in his arms after the jaguar attack; Artemis looking wide-eyed at her as he spotted her in her human form; their first night together (an even bigger sigh); Artemis staring incredibly at the pair of tiny shoes; Artemis slipping the golden ring on her finger…
How she missed Artemis! How she missed her son, and Julius, and Foaly, and even Mulch… Would she ever see them again? Sometimes she was full of optimism (Patrick's a genius and Artemis is still good at plotting, they will find a way), but sometimes she caught herself almost completely giving up hope. How could they find a fairy who lived so long ago? It seemed impossible, even for a genius.
If only she could use her magic, she would long ago have mesmerised the crap out of Emese and all the guards and escaped from here! But no, she couldn't risk the baby's health…
The first night she'd spent as a prisoner, she had decided to remove the annoying crinoline and had even torn about five inches of lace from the bottom of her skirt to allow her to move more easily. The pretty wedding dress was ruined, and Holly's heart ached for it, but no one could expect her to spend a week in a hoop skirt. She couldn't understand how the ladies in the nineteenth century could bear to wear it for more than a few hours. Unfortunately Emese didn't seem to notice what a bad shape Holly's dress was in, so she didn't deign to bring the captive something simpler to wear, and Holly decided she wouldn't complain. She wouldn't give that bitch the pleasure of seeing her uncomfortable. She was a L.E.P. commander, after all, she could bear anything.
o o o O O O o o o
Pannonia, near today's Szeged, 453 A.D. – or is it?"What?" Artemis, Patrick and Mulch gasped in unison.
The tribune's lips tucked into a sneer. "You'll do well as slaves, or if you train a bit, lanky man, you can even make gladiator. Be thankful for your fortune!"
o o o O O O o o o
"Good that you designed rather un-aesthetic watches, Arty, or I would have needed to steal those back too," Mulch grunted as he dusted pieces of dirt off his trousers. He had just arrived back underground to the tiny tent they were kept prisoner in. "Here's your belts." He threw the apparently gold and silver belts to Artemis and Patrick.
"They didn't notice you I hope?" Artemis asked.
"Not to worry, oh, great gladiator, Artemis Maximus!" the dwarf waved, grinning. "If old Mulch doesn't want the stupid Romans to notice him, then the stupid Romans don't notice him. By the way, when are we going to leave?"
"Yeah, when, Dad?" Patrick interjected. "We should have escaped as soon as they put us in this tent. All it takes is setting our watches to… to…"
"See, not even you are sure what year we should set our watches to," his father replied darkly.
"But how's this possible, Dad? Er… Bro. How come we came back too many years in time? We set our watches to 453, but this year seems to be… which one, exactly?"
"I'd say around 150…" Artemis replied.
"Then your famous time machines are faulty, Arty," Mulch commented.
"Are not." The young man shook his head. "They just work in a way that… well, I'll try to explain."
"Do try, perhaps even my lesser mind will understand," the dwarf said sarcastically.
Ignoring the sarcasm in Diggums' voice, Artemis continued: "The time machine calculates the amount of time needed to go back from 2016 to 453. That's 1563 years. The time machines did take us back 1563 years in time… but we didn't end up in 453, but, very likely, in 156. You know what this means?"
"That history has indeed been forged," Patrick concluded.
"Right." Artemis nodded. "According to the theory I mentioned to you on the plane, 297 years were added to history and the year we came from isn't 2016 but only 1719. The time machines were programmed to believe it was 2016 as their designers too thought it was 2016. And since the machines only do the maths, they can't jump over a period of time that never existed."
"Sounds horribly complicated," Mulch said. "But of course I understand it!" he added quickly. "And what shall we do now?"
"Obviously set our watches to 750, A.D., if we want to get to the year of Attila's death," Patrick said. Seeing the dwarf's confused face, he sighed. "453 plus 297 equals 750. The time machine thinks we're in 453, so if we want to get to 453, we have to go to year 750."
"Oh," Mulch said. "That's really confusing."
"You're not the only one confused here." Artemis shrugged. "Right then, gentlemen, let's set our time machines to 1st May, 750. Done? On the count of three, then. One, two, three…"
o o o O O O o o o
Cesare Cavalieri's Manor near Kilkenny, 2016 A.D.
Silently ladling the broth Emese had brought her, Holly tried to ignore the other woman's unabashed stare. But she couldn't do it for long.
"What?" Holly looked up. "Haven't you seen a girl eat her soup before?"
"I've seen girls eating their soup, but not a fairy, you know," Emese replied in an amused voice.
Holly resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"By the way," the other spoke up again, "I've got news for you."
"News? You've found the fairy in question?" Holly frowned.
"No, not yet, but I bet your dear husband's going to find out soon."
"What makes you think so?"
"He must have a lead… a lead that led him and your little nephew to Hungary."
"Hungary?" Holly put the spoon down. "What're they doing in Hungary? And how do you know they're there?"
"As to your first question: I don't know for sure, but a genius like your husband must have gone there for a reason. After all, Attila's grave is somewhere in Hungary… Second: I have my sources of information, dear."
"You don't mean you have spies at Fowl Manor?" The fairy's eyes narrowed.
Emese just smiled back at her.
"No…" Holly shook her head. "That's impossible. Neither my father-in-law nor my mother-in-law would give out our secrets, and Butler and Juliet are trustworthy too… Besides that we only have a bio-gardener but he only turns up once a week…"
Emese continue smirking cruelly.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Holly hissed.
"Tremendously, dear, tremendously." With that Emese scooped up Holly's half-eaten supper and left.
Watching the woman's receding figure, Holly felt an irresistible urge to jump up from the sofa and give her a kick in the arse or better knock her out completely… but no use, outside the door two guards were standing, she'd heard them talking with Emese. And no matter how good a fighter she was, she couldn't have taken on two Butler-sized humans, especially in her condition.
Her hands clenched into fists, Holly quenched her desire to do bodily harm to her captor. There would come a day when she'd have an opportunity for that, she swore, wondering why on Earth Artemis had gone to Hungary…
o o o O O O o o o
1st May, 453 – for real this time
"Are you sure we're in the right place at the right time now?" Mulch asked, looking around. They were on a bigger clearing, the same one where the Romans had pitched camp in 156. This time, however, there were no Romans around. The place seemed derelict, save for a single man riding a horse. That man was definitely not a Roman.
"A Hun, I presume?" Patrick wondered, watching as the lonely rider approached.
"Seems savage enough." Artemis shrugged. The man indeed looked savage, especially because he had some deep and ugly gashes on his cheeks – gashes that must have been cut only a few days earlier as they seemed quite new. "Let's ask him." He waved to catch the rider's attention.
The man galloped over to them.
"Greetings," Artemis said.
The Hun only nodded with a morose expression.
"I, my brother and our servant are en route to Thracia and we're tired. My little brother is even sick…"
Patrick produced a few fake coughs.
"…and we're seeking refuge with Attila of whose heroism we have heard legends-"
Artemis couldn't even finish, because the Hun silenced him with a wave of his hand. "You might be tired and sick, travellers, but the one you're seeking refuge with no longer exits."
"What? Attila – dead?" Artemis pretended to be shocked. Now at least he understood why the rider had those ugly gashes on his face - the Huns had a peculiar custom: if someone they loved and held in great esteem died, they cut their faces in their grief.
The scarred Hun nodded sullenly. "The greatest king ever is no more. His soul has joined the Lord of Wars and his body is resting in sunlight, moonlight and dark night."
"Huh?" Mulch frowned. He'd never liked metaphors.
"And when… when did he die?" Artemis asked.
"The sun has risen and set fourteen times since," the rider replied. With that, he spurred his horse and rid away.
"Wasn't too talkative, was he?" Patrick said.
"No, but he told us just enough to know where we need to go," his father answered.
"Two weeks back in time?" Mulch guessed.
"Let's make it three, just to be safe."
"Oookay, Arty… By the way, what was that load of trash about sunlight, moonlight and dark night?"
"According to the legends, when Attila died, the greatest shaman of the Huns, Torda, had a white horse sacrificed to be able to find out from Lord of Wars where Attila's grave should be built. Lord of Wars told him to bury Attila in bright sunlight, pale moonlight and dark night. It was a metaphor for the famous triple coffin. The outer coffin was made of iron – that was dark. The middle coffin was made of silver – the moon is silver. The inner coffin was pure gold, resembling sunlight."
"Wow, you have really read up on the Huns and the Hungarians, Dad," Patrick said admiringly.
Artemis shot him a wry look. "If you don't have your genius to fall back on, you should at least be informed. Being a genius is a wonderful thing, but knowledge too is power."
Do you really mean that, Dad? The boy thought, but decided not to comment.
o o o O O O o o o
10th April, 453 A.D.
"So, are we at the right time at last?" Mulch wondered, rubbing his rumbling stomach. "I'm getting too hungry to continue jumping back and forth in time any longer… Do you mind if I eat the remaining Mars bar? Or are you saving it for the Huns?"
"Yes, of course it would be very wise to give them Mars bars when they've never heard of chocolate," Artemis replied coldly, checking the tiny screen on his 'watch' then closing the lid over it. He had designed the time machines to have a lid that hides the screen and the miniscule buttons, because this way they looked like rather cheap and ugly armlets, but as no one saw red numbers vibrating on them, no one would be suspicious.
"Well, one thing's sure: we're at least in the same place," Patrick commented. They were standing on the same nondescript clearing where the Romans had had their camp in the past and where they had met the grieving Hun in the future.
"So, then all we've gotta do is fin' the Huns, eh?" the dwarf said through a mouthful of Mars.
In that instant a dozen arrows swished above them (nearly missing Artemis's head), and a bunch of horsemen burst into the clearing.
"I think we have found them," Patrick established.
o o o O O O o o o
A/N: in case you're wondering whether I got Rufus' name from HBP (Rufus Scrimgeour), then my answer is no. I made up Rufus-the-elf shortly before I read HBP and I found it most amusing that the new Minister of Magic too was a Rufus…
For those who might have found the name 'Pest' funny: it has absolutely nothing to do with the English word 'pest'. It is pronounced as 'Pesht', not 'pest'. Also, we do not have the Euro yet, our currency is still the Forint, but this story is taking place in 2016 and I assume we're going to have the Euro by then.
And something different… It took me nine months to write this fanfic – so I consider it my 'baby' in both senses. It only takes you one minute (or less) to review. One minute, not nine months… consider this, and review, please. Reviews inspire me to update quicker, never forget that!