Out of Time

Chapter 5

"Enter," Arthur called out after the knock sounded. He put down the work he'd been pouring over, and leaned back in his chair, ready to deal with the next person's problem.

His best hunter, Alden, stepped through the door, a smaller figure slipping in behind him, somewhat obscured by the larger man's breadth. "My liege." He bowed his head in deference, as always.

"How may I help you today, Alden?"

Alden paused. "We'd heard of poaching in the forest to the south. My men and I investigated."

Arthur frowned. "Of course." He hated poachers, as much as he could hate a person. He did the best he could, but sometimes they relied on the food gathered by hunting those woods.

"I found a young boy, nearly starved." Alden stepped aside, revealing the boy in question.

He stood tall, wide-eyed, his big blue eyes staring at Arthur in a way that many kings would have not only found offensive, but a punishable offense. It was a good thing Arthur wasn't the average king.

The boy shoved his chin-length brown hair out of his eyes, only for it to fall forward yet again. And his clothes... His clothes seemed to almost fall off him. Dirty and torn, they'd clearly been made for a much larger frame, and he couldn't help but wonder how long the boy had wanders those trees, alone and hungry.

Arthur sighed. "He's the poacher?"

"Yes, sire."

"What's your name, boy?"

But the boy didn't answer, Alden did. "He doesn't seem to know our tongue, my liege."

Arthur nodded. "Find him a room, some food, clean clothes, and a bath."

A small smile graced Alden's face, and he knew he'd pleased his hunter.

The boy's face lit up suddenly, and words shot from his mouth. "Old English!"

Arthur turned back to the boy. "You do speak."

Chewing on his lip, the boy paused for a second, his eyes looking up to the ceiling as if trying to find the right words. "I didn't recognize it at first. I've only ever read this language, and didn't immediately recognize it spoken."

"You can read? And write?"

The boy paused, then nodded. How far had this boy fallen to end up here? Reading and writing weren't skills a commoner would have. Only nobility and clergy were taught that skill, and the boy didn't look like his clothes had come from a church. Rather, they looked like some foreign ensemble he'd never seen before.

"What's your name, boy?"

He chewed on his lip again. "Danny."

Arthur leaned over his desk, trying to be as reassuring as he could to the boy, Danny, who had clearly gone through some very rough times. "Welcome to Camelot, Danny."

#

Old English. Of course! No wonder she'd thought she should know it. She'd only literally dedicated her entire adult life to the study of the ancient language.

At some point during the meeting in the office of a man she still didn't know by any name other than "my liege," once she'd stopped wallowing in the sound of his deep voice, she'd caught a word she knew, one she'd even said aloud from time to time, and it had just clicked.

And to think, she had a valuable skill, and she completely forgot. She could read and write Old English. Though she was more familiar with the Latin alphabet used in the ninth through twelfth centuries, she'd written her doctoral dissertation on the futhorc, and its relationship with other runic alphabets of the time.

After the king welcomed her to Camelot—Camelot of all places—Alden escorted her out. She'd realized his name through a great deal of trial and error, running through the conversation in her head until she came up with something remotely name-like. Alden, meaning old and wise protector. It fit him.

Alden brought her to a maid, an older woman with a backbone of authority to her. Repeating the king's word verbatim, he smiled, said farewell, and left Dani to the woman's care.

"My name's Arleigh. It's a pleasure to meet you, lad." She clucked her tongue. "Come, we must get you out of these wretched clothes, and properly fed. You look like you'll fall over."

Lad? Why did she call Dani a lad? She looked down at her shirt and pants, her flat chest. She touched her grown out pixie haircut, and she looked down at Arleigh, who stood a good six inches shorter than her. Dani looked up. The men all wore tunics and pants. The women all wore dresses. She realized with a bit of alarm that she was about average height for a man, had average length hair for a man, and wore clothes like a man. She looked like a man.

Dani looked back at Arleigh wide eyed, wanting to correct her, but she stopped herself. Did she really want to out herself as a woman? Women's rights had only really become a thing in the eighteenth century or later. She didn't know when this was, but she felt certain the eighteenth century wouldn't come about for a long time.

So she kept her mouth shut, and fell into step behind the maid. They walked—Dani in silence, Arleigh in a constant chatter Dani had trouble keeping up with—to one of the lower rooms in the castle. Arleigh nudged her inside, and though the room was small, it seemed clean and well lit, not to mention it could be heated by a fire in the fireplace to her right. After the cave, this looked like the Hilton.

#

Arleigh left, saying she would collect some food for "him" and order up a bath.

When the food arrived, Dani nearly cried. She nearly choked on the chunks of bread and meat, not slowing down fast enough to chew it so it wouldn't get stuck in her throat.

Arleigh fussed at her for eating too fast, but the reprimands had no heat to them. Dani didn't look up from her meal, not wanting to see the pity in the other woman's eyes.

When she finished, chugging down water as if it were ambrosia, Arleigh decided to check on the status of the bath, and find Dani some decent clothes to wear.

Time ticked by slowly, and for the first time in months, she didn't fear thinking about her situation. She was in Camelot, had nearly starved and frozen to death in the forest, and had somehow travelled in time—or had gone insane. She wondered if the king she'd met was the legendary Arthur.

Dani shook her head, laughing at her own foolishness. King Arthur was a legend, a fanciful story told, and nothing more than fiction. Although, if the legends were true, Camelot would be the best place for her to be if King Arthur were king. She didn't know all the legends, but she could have sworn he was always fair and just.

Arleigh returned, clothing in hand, and with the sounds of a lot of people following her. She beamed at Dani, whose stomach had become uncomfortably full from all the food she'd consumed. People followed her into the room with a tub and pitchers of water mostly one at a time. They quickly placed the tub—which filled the small room to the point where Dani had to climb on the bed and not everyone could enter—then poured in the water before disappearing out the door again.

"Will there be anything else? Dani, is it?"

"Yes, Dani. Thank you. This is perfect."

Arleigh nodded, and left, closing the door behind her. Dani sighed, grateful she wouldn't have to fight Arleigh for some privacy.

Then again, maybe she should be grateful Arleigh didn't insist on some guy assisting her. She shuddered.

"Best not to borrow trouble," she said, reveling in speaking and hearing a few words of modern English.

With a sigh, she stripped, and slowly slipped into the warm water with a groan.

Oh, to be warm again...

Author's Note: Dedicated to Atalanta_Stones because, yeah, you made me want to post early, even though I only posted yesterday.  Loving the comments.  Glad you're enjoying the story.