The Call of Camelot

Chapter 2 - Ambrose

"Why is it, of all periods of history, was this the one the universe chose for me to be born into!?"

This was just one of the countless times I'd asked myself that question while silently cursing the universe and wishing I'd lived in a time before technology had warped people's brains. A time when chivalry and manners still existed and someone may actually apologise for accidentally pushing a person over, instead of staring at their phone like a mindless zombie!

"Hey! Excuse me?!" I shouted to the retreating gentleman who'd knocked me over, nothing, not even a backward glance, asshole!

I bent down to pick up the contents of my handbag, which were now strewn across the station platform. The platform where moments before I'd been minding my own business, excitedly waiting for the train that was to take me to my dream come true!

It had been nearly six weeks since I'd got the phone call to tell me I'd been accepted as a volunteer on a summer dig in Wales, assisting archaeologists who were excavating the site of an early medieval village, believed to have been untouched since the 6th century. As a history buff whose fascination with ancient history verged on obsessive, the opportunity to take part in an archaeological dig was something I'd dreamt of since I was a girl!

My deep love of history is hardly surprising though, considering my upbringing. My Mother had been a history teacher at a local secondary school and my Father a Classics professor at a prestigious university here in England. I'd say that history ran in my blood, but since I'm adopted I just say I inherited their love of history from the passion in which they told some of history's most famous stories. From the Gods of old to jousting Knights and Medieval Kings, each of my parents stories exuded so much excitement and mysticism that I became as enthralled by history as they were.

That love of history followed me into my adult life, but not in the way my parents had hoped. Instead of becoming the teacher they'd wanted me to be, I'd bought a shop through which I sold herbal teas and medicines based on the natural ingredients used to heal people for thousands of years. It was a job I loved but my passion for history still itched, which is why for six years I'd been applying for summer digs and now, aged 27, and as bright eyed and bushy tailed as the many young university students I was sure to meet on this dig, I was so excited to finally fulfill my dream!

The crackling speaker overhead announced my train's approach. Quickly, I scurried to gather my belongings amongst the crowd of people that seemed to have magically appeared on what had, up until a few seconds ago, been a nearly empty platform.

Before I could mumble "bugger it", my favourite phrase in moments of stress, under my breath a man appeared next to me.

"Do you need a helping hand?"

Now, I'm a cynical person. I don't mean to be, but I am, so when a stranger asks to help with my bags, my first thought is that he wants to rob me, so I surprised myself when I nodded and smiled my thanks at the handsome stranger who was now carrying my heaviest suitcase and helping me onto the train.

I followed the helpful stranger, a practical knight in shining armour compared to the man, who'd only minutes before, unapologetically pushed me over. We came to our row of seats at the back of the carriage. He smiled at me again as he stowed my bags and his into the baggage rack overhead before motioning his hand at one of the seats.

Breaking the silence, he said "I don't mean to be forward but I don't travel well alone, would you care to join me Miss.....".

"I really appreciate your help" I hastily replied, ignoring the question of my name "but I'm actually travelling for business and I need to catch up on some work before I get there, you know how it is, important meetings and such!".