Out of Time

Chapter 3

Alden had stepped into the forests surrounding his home several hours ago in search of a poacher. His king was kind, generous, and just, but these forests belonged to the king, and ensured that his people stayed fed through the long winters here. A poacher could mean children would starve, or soldiers couldn't properly defend their borders.

As head hunter for his king, Alden had carefully ensured that no game went over-hunted, and no individual under their king's care went hungry.

Which was why it disturbed him so when he saw smoke billowing from deep in the forest. He'd called his men, asking them if they'd seen anything untoward. One man mentioned he thought he'd seen someone in the woods, a mere streak of motion, there and gone. Another mentioned seeing a deer skeleton, which didn't concern Alden as there were predators other than man in those woods, but then he mentioned kerf marks. Animals didn't make kerf marks, blades did.

So he'd sent him men out, searching the woods as he now did for their mysterious poacher. He wasn't accustomed to hunting man, but he'd decked himself out in weaponry—bow and arrow, knives, a sword. Since winter still kept its grasp on the land, he'd bundled up tight, his only exposed skin being the space between his hairline and beard.

Having spent most of his life between these trees, Alden felt he knew fairly well where the smoke had come from. It must be the poacher's camp. It lay deep in the forest, a place he only ventured to in winter, when game was scarce. As he walked, he tried to recall the area in question, gathering from past experience where a person would likely set up camp. Near a body of water safe to drink, of course. But no knowledgeable person would sleep too close to a watering hole as it tended to attract other animals as well, some of whom wouldn't think twice about chomping into a sleeping human.

#

Without a clear view of the sky, it was hard to tell if he was close to his destination. But he felt confident he had reached the area where the smoke had come from. He stilled, closing his eyes, listening to the forest. Water rushed to his right. He tuned it out. He suspected he must be in the right general area, as that sounded like it would make a good place to get water.

Alden listened some more. He tuned out the swaying of branches, the occasional snap or rustle as an animal moved through the forest. Then he heard what he sought—the very faint crackle of a roaring fire. He angled himself toward the sound, moving slowly, attempting not to make a noise so he could continue to follow the sound that just barely touched his ears.

Soon, he could see the smoke, and he slowed further, drawing his blade. The smoke came from a cave, so he decided to wait. The entrance was small, and he would only leave himself vulnerable attempting to attain his poacher in his home. Best to wait until he attempted to leave.

#

A sound came from outside the cave. Dani smiled. She snatched up her bow and arrows, thinking prey must be nearby. The arrows were never straight, and the bow string had a tendency to come off or break at the worst times, but she'd managed to kill a few animals with it, which was all that mattered.

She slipped out of the cave, scanning the darkness for signs, when movement came from her right. Next, arms grabbed her from behind, one across her chest keeping her legs off the ground.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from lack of use. She flailed her legs, kicking at her attacker, but he didn't let go.

But then she felt something on her neck, and froze. That was where the other hand had been. Her struggles had made the knife start to cut into the skin of her neck, causing blood to drip down. She whimpered, but didn't move as the giant behind her slowly allowed her feet to reach the ground.

Which was when she realized he'd been talking to her the entire time. Soft, calming words, spoken as if trying to calm a beast. But she didn't understand a word. It tickled at her mind, but didn't quite connect.

She racked her mind, trying to come up with the language, but she wasn't a linguist, damn it! She kept revolving back to there only really being two languages widely spoken in North Carolina—English and Spanish—and the words he spoke were neither.

Which just gave more credence to the theory that she was a long way from home.

#

Alden sighed when the boy finally calmed down. He didn't want to hurt the boy, and now felt bad about sending a hunting party after him. He didn't know why the boy was in the forest, but he doubted it was his fault, and he wouldn't blame a child for surviving the only way he could.

He slowly released the boy, saying, "Come," but the boy just looked at him, confused. "Do you have any things?" But still, the boy only looked confused, not understanding a word.

Alden looked into the cave, but only a thick blackness greeted him, his eyes unable to penetrate. He looked back at the boy. He must have been well off at one point, and foreign. He didn't know their language, and his clothes were strange. He wore black trousers, brown leather boots that reached no further than his ankles, and a black tunic unlike any he'd ever seen. The whole ensemble had seen better days. Dirt caked in places, in others the material seemed almost worn through.

"Come." This time, he waved to him, trying to use hand gestures to get the boy to follow him back to Camelot.

#

Dani rubbed her throat tentatively as she followed the man who spoke the strange tongue. He chattered on constantly as they traversed the forest. He moved as if he knew where he was going, and she believed he did.

She tried to ignore how he was dressed, telling herself he was a member of SCA, or worked at a Renaissance Faire. The tunic and pants were clearly wool. In fact, she didn't see a single modern fabric or stitch. The stitches of his clothing looked like they'd been done by hand, and not well either. Even she could stitch an even line by hand. If she had to hazard a guess, she would say he'd stitched the garment himself, and clearly didn't know what he was doing.

After a couple of hours, the trees thinned, then opened up, revealing broad fields, and she started to cry at the sight. He looked back at her, alarmed, as she reacted to the sheer beauty of seeing uninterrupted sky and rolling fields for the first time in months.

He spoke, clearly concerned. The he slapped her a couple of times on the back, said something else, and started moving again, as if that was all she needed. With a sigh, she looked up at the clear, blue sky, and followed him again, wondering what fate awaited her, and not really caring because she could see the sky again.

#

As the day dragged on, they passed rolling hills, fields that had clearly been used for farming, and buildings that made her more and more alarmed. She didn't see a single modern edifice. Or pavement. The roofs were thatched, the buildings made of wood. She wanted to cry, but didn't want the big brute slapping her on the back again, and maybe sending her to the ground this time.

He walked with a surety made from familiarity. She walked with a clumsiness made from muscle atrophy. Where once she'd been able to hike for miles, hours, without pause, now she felt winded after just a few minutes. She felt pathetic, not even able to take care of herself properly.

Granted, she figured most modern people wouldn't be able to survive as long as she had on her own. Most would have starved, died of dehydration, or some infection. She felt proud that she'd lasted as long as she had. Admittedly, she wished the man had let her get her pack, but she had the sinking suspicion it would have done her no good. In fact, she suspected it could have done her a great deal of harm.

While her clothing were very different from the man's, being made of cotton, lycra and spandex, she suspected the grey and purple backpack, her cell phone, her keys, her wallet, would only result in questions that could get her killed.

She still didn't know where she was, but she was starting to thinkthat was the wrong question. She shouldbe asking herself when she was.