TIME MACHINE CHAPTER FOURTEEN

At least Sir Charles would have plunged the sword into Ben's gut but ended up barely grazing him with it. Most of the sword was buried in a grinning Wathelbert, who had not only turned up just in time but had decided on a little extra torture for the villainous Sir Charles.

Being immortal, Wathelbert had been able to search past and future for an appropriate song and had finally hit on one that was both memorable and irritating. (A/N: Apologies as I have used this tune before but I think I've done the words more justice this time round.)

And he sang it, with his foul corpse-like breath, into Sir Charles's face as the latter shook like a jelly and pissed himself with a total lack of dignity.

"Oh I was hung and quartered too,

All for a crime I did not do.

It hurt a lot, I'm telling you.

I really wasn't happy.

I know that I-I-I will have some fun with you.

You may not die-ay-ay, but boy will life be crappy.

Upside down, bouncing off the ceiling,

Kick your ass, just to hear you squealing,

You're the sod who summoned me,

Now you'll go crazy 'cause you won't know where I'll be.

Your grandad was a kind old git,

But as a Knight, you just aren't fit.

So now you'll be as scared as sh*t,

You're stuck with me forever.

You'll see why I-I-I want my revenge on you.

Each time you cry-y-y, I'll feel so bloody clever.

In your bath, coming up your plughole,

In your bed, peeing in your lughole,

You're the fool who summoned me,

And you'll go crazy for I'll never set you free!"

Sir Charles's knights and soldiers – so much for courage – fled screaming, while Wathelbert closed in on Charles, snarling:

"You'll never escape me, sh*thead."

Sir Charles realised the game was up and slit his own throat.

Wathelbert glided after the fleeing soldiers and yelled:

"Don't any of you dare go to Griffith Village or I'll torture you all for eternity! Get right away from here, you scum-serving brutes!"

He turned to a shaking Lady Margaret.

"Well, Lady Margaret, it seems you're a widow. And as this group-" he indicated the travellers – "Were victorious, the castle falls to them by default. I'm sure they'll let you continue to make your home here. Now I'll finish dragging this miserable creature's remains to a dung heap, and his soul to hell."

With one final chorus of his song and a high-kicking routine added because he was a show-off, Wathelbert was gone.

The group hugged each other, unable to believe they were going to live.

Dylan shook Ben angrily.

"Dylan, he's been stabbed!" Rita gasped.

"Only a little prick", Ben said cheerfully.

"Yes, I know you are. Why in hell didn't you agree to that scumbag's offer of singing for him? I nearly had a cardiac arrest when he stabbed you."

"And live without you all? Do you think I'd have wanted to?" Ben snapped.

Dylan couldn't argue with that, but had something else to think about when Lady Margaret knelt before him.

"No, get up, dear. You're fine."

She continued to kneel.

"To save Rita from a hideous death I gave her poison, but my vile husband knocked it from her hand. But If I had been successful I would have killed her for nothing."

Dylan glared.

"There is only one punishment for a crime like that" he said coldly.

Ben felt sick. Surely-?

"Lady Margaret Fairhead, you shall be taken tomorrow into exile. You must go to Griffith Village and ask Sir Martin of the Ash to look after you now."

He added:

"And seeing as this group has no need for this castle, and we shall be leaving tomorrow, it is up to him if he wants to take residence here with you and make it a happier place."

He couldn't resist adding:

"Gotcha!"

Lady Margaret wept for joy. To be given to the man she had loved and lost was what she had secretly dreamed of. She wept on the embarrassed Dylan's chest.

Ethelfritha shattered the silence.

"What about my dragon?" she bawled.

"We'll show you where he's hidden shortly."

Cal, feeling he ought to be nice and at least ask, said:

"Do you still want to be married to me?"

"Well, YES. I want to travel with you and have a good time."

Cal forced a smile. Everybody felt so sorry for him, knowing he was too nice to get out of the marriage. Then Connie spoke:

"One moment, Ethelfritha. People change, and it's best to err on the side of caution. How about a long engagement?"

"Oh, all right. As long as we get out of here tomorrow."

"Why not now?" asked Ethelfritha.

"Because we want to EAT!" Ethan yelled.

"I don't know about you, Ethan, but after what we witnessed at Denham Castle, it might be better to go to an inn for food and lodgings tonight. There's all this treasure we own now, and Sir Charles could have left us a little parting gift."

"See?" Wathelbert showed Charles a vision of the group deciding not to eat at Fairhead Castle, "They can read you like a book. Right… saddle up for hell."

The next day, after which Ethan felt almost too full to walk, the group found the machine again.

Connie was not pleased at Dylan's suggestion that, wherever they landed, the women should stay inside to be safe.

"We could be just as vulnerable in here as outside."

"Supposing Morpeth gets lost?" nagged Ethelfritha.

"Well, why don't you stay in here with him, sweetheart?" Cal asked reasonably.

"He needs fresh air and exercise, you selfish thing."

"Okay… where to this time then?" Connie broke in, "Forwards or backwards?"

Fate decided for them. A storm had been brewing all morning, and as Connie activated the dial, she shot backwards from a mild electric shock. The time machine shot back of its own accord.

Then it landed, moving with gentle normality once more.

Morpeth gave a little squeal.

"Now you've upset Morpy" whined Ethelfritha, "What if he runs off?"

Cal searched inside one of the drawers and found a long piece of thick cord.

"Look, a lead for him."

"That could choke him" screamed Ethelfritha.

"Oh please your f*cking self, then" snapped the normally gentle Cal as he followed the others out of the machine.

The climate was just right, not too cold or warm. They seemed to be in a narrow alley.

Then they heard the shout:

"Make way for the great Cleopatra!"

Ancient Egypt. Could be worse.

And then it was, as the shout went up:

"Hail to the honoured guest of the great Julius Caesar!"

Ancient Rome. Ampitheatres. Christians versus lions. Asassination plots. Oh b*gger.

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