Willow | The Wayfarer Series

Chapter 4

I don't know at what point in the night I decided to sleep. I had at least managed to sleep next to a huge rock, which gave me some cover from the piercing winds. I slept through the night, and woke up the next morning by someone's cold touch. 

I was dreaming peacefully about a meadow, where I followed my little sister around. She always seemed to get away just before I could reach her though. When I finally managed to get a hold of her arm, I felt someone's cold hand on my forehead. 

I opened my eyes before even thinking of the 'play dead' strategy. I hit the man square across the face, causing him to fall down into the grass while I hurried onto my feet. I tripped over the back of my dress and fell against the rock that had given me cover the night before. 

It was just one man, but I knew enough about history that men and women were never treated equally. In fact, I think it's pretty fair to say that women were treated like property. I had always used history class as a way to make up for lost sleep. I sincerely regret that now. 

"I scared you." The man said, before getting back on his feet. "My apologies. I merely wanted to see if you needed aid."

I do need help.

He was dressed in the same manner the dead man had been, though his clothes were of more vibrant colours. He even wore a funny hat with it, and on his waist was a sheathed sword. 

He saw me looking at it, and slowly moved his hand over to the belt that kept it around his waist. He unclasped it, and let it fall onto the grass. "I am not here to hurt you."

I noticed another peculiar thing. I heard him speak regular English, but when I listened intensely I also heard a vague undertone. It was like he was speaking two languages. One I could understand, and one he was actually speaking. 

"Where am I?" It was the first question that came to mind, even though mine was still half asleep. When I spoke my lips did not match the words that came out. I was speaking a different language.

"I cannot answer that with certainty." The man answered politely. "My companions and I only just arrived ourselves. We were hoping the locals might tell us." 

"There isn't anyone around for miles." I told him. 

"Miles?" He looked rather confused. I could have sworn they at least had some kind of metric system in the 1700's. It was time for the big question.

"Do you happen to know what year it is?" I asked him. The man thankfully did not look at me like I was crazy nor that he would rape or kill me. Instead, he looked like he pitied me. 

"It is the year 936 of our Lord Jesus Christ." He answered me.

There was no way to hide my reaction. My jaw dropped, my face paled. Suddenly I needed the rock for support. The year 936, that mean I travelled not three hundred years but a little over a thousand. 

"Where are you from?" The man inquired. I was about to answer with London, but then I came to the realisation that there was no London, at least not like I had known it. I had a split second to make up a story to tell the man. 

"I don't remember," I answered. "I was on a ship, but that is the last thing I know."

The man nodded. He seemed to be lost in thoughts for a few moments, stroking his beard and looking to our left. I could see smoke rising from campfires in the distance, he was not alone. 

I felt like I hadn't gotten a proper moment to think. It still had not even settled in what had happened. One moment I was standing on the platform with my best friend talking about Tinder, and all of a sudden I was not only miles away but also a millennium. I would never get to see my family again, never get to see what becomes of Anya. All the dreams I had worked so hard for, gone. 

 "We have a camp," the man pulled me from my thoughts. "I cannot leave you behind to fend for yourself. Please accompany me to it."

Another split second decision that could change everything. The man seemed trustworthy, he hadn't stabbed me just yet, but I did not know the rest of the people in this camp. There was still a chance I could escape him, but with an entire group of people, that chance seemed to lessen.

What else could I do? I could stay out here and rely on my poor memories of my time in the girl scouts, most of which was spend gossiping with Anya anyway, or I could take the chance and see the people in the camp. 

"I'll join you." I finally decided.