Love Beyond Time (25 page)

“Then you have learned wisdom,” said
Charles.

“You are too harsh with yourself, Savarec,”
Michel told him. “In spite of my lack of name, title, or wealth,
you have always been a friend to me.”

“By your recent actions, Michel, you have
proven your loyalty to Charles, and to me, and your devotion to
Danise. I cannot in friendship refuse what you ask, nor do I want
to refuse you. However, when we first came to Duren I gave the
choice of her husband to Danise,” Savarec now reminded them. “She
must decide, not I.”

“Danise.” Michel looked at her, seeing love
and hope in her eyes. “I did not plan to ask you before so many
witnesses, but will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Danise cried. “Oh, yes. I never want
to be parted from you. Michel, I am so proud of you, and so happy.”
With that, she fairly flew off the dais and into his arms. The
assembled Franks cheered her on and Hildegarde burst into delighted
laughter.

“You see,” Hildegarde said to Charles, “I was
right.” Charles took his wife’s hand and pressed it to his
lips.

Danise and Michel barely noticed the queen’s
words or the king’s action, for they quickly lost themselves in a
tender kiss. They did not have long to revel in their private joy.
Friends began to crowd about them, congratulating them, until
Danise found herself separated from Michel and standing next to
Redmond.

“I had planned to tell you tonight that I
could not wed you,” she said to him, a little embarrassed by the
situation. “I am sorry if you were hurt by the way this was done. I
never guessed what Michel would say to Charles.”

“I believe you and I could have been content
together, Danise,” Redmond told her. “But if you feel Michel is the
man you should wed, then let us be friends. Nor will your choice
ever change my friendship with Michel.”

“You have a generous heart, Redmond. I think
of you as more than a friend. To me, you are like a dear
brother.”

“It’s not what I hoped for,” Redmond said
with a wry little smile, “but I will gladly accept what you
offer.”

When Redmond moved on to speak to Michel,
Sister Gertrude pushed her way through the throng to where Danise
was standing.

“So, your choice is made,” she said to
Danise. “Now you will have to live with it until your last day of
life.”

“Do not be angry with me because I could not
do what you wished for me,” Danise begged. “I love Michel as much
as he loves me.”

“I hope you do not regret it,” Sister
Gertrude responded. Then, brightening, she added, “I do approve of
Charles’s decision about Lady Ingeborg, though I doubt if the nuns
at Prum will thank him for it. At least this ordeal of a trial is
over, and we can forget about Clodion and Autichar and their wicked
plans.”

However, as they were to learn in the course
of time, they had not heard the last of Autichar or his plot.

New Mexico October 1992

“
If
you ask me, it was a stroke of
luck having him disappear like that. Why do you want to mess
everything up now?” Alice shook her head in bewilderment. “Hank
Marsh, you are an idiot to do this. Just leave the guy where he is
and forget about him.”

“I can’t do that.” Hank spoke absently
because he was working on the computer, checking the electrical
connections, moving components around, and then calling up long
mathematical equations on the screen.

“Why not?” Alice stuck her hands on her hips
and glared at the back of Hank’s head. “You’re just asking for
trouble.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hank cleared the screen
before swinging around to face Alice. “You really don’t understand,
do you? O.K., I’ll explain.

“First,” Hank began ticking off the reasons
on his fingers. “If I don’t get him back, I’m as bad as any
murderer, because Mike Bailey went into
my
computer, on a
program
I
invented.

“Second, sending someone back in time is only
half of the experiment. For me to prove beyond a doubt that my
theories about the space-time continuum are correct, I have to be
able to bring the object or the person back to this time and this
place in one piece and in good health.”

“What happens if what you get back isn’t a
person any more, but just a lump of bleeding protoplasm?” Alice
demanded. “How would you dispose of it? Send it back in time again?
Or into outer space? And what are you going to tell the authorities
if someone finds out what you’ve done?”

“That’s reason number three,” Hank told her.
“This Bailey guy is not some unimportant nobody. If half of what he
said is true, there are important people who know he has been
looking for me. I bet he told somebody he was coming here today.
Where do you think that leaves me if I can’t get him back?

“Fourth, and most important of all,” Hank
said, “if I want to call myself a scientist, and I do, then I have
a moral obligation to make certain that no one gets hurt because of
my theories and my experiments.”

“I never would have picked you to have a
conscience,” Alice said.

“You don’t know much about me,” Hank replied.
“You know, India Baldwin told me once that I didn’t have any right
to fool around with time and space, and I’m beginning to think she
may have had a point. Every time I try this experiment, something
goes wrong. Maybe I’ve been breaking some cosmic law I don’t even
know about.”

“You’re going soft,” Alice said. “I warned
you about hiking in the desert every morning at sunrise. Or maybe
it’s just too much Mexican food that’s interfering with your
mind.”

“Call it whatever you want,” Hank said, “but
I am going to do my damnedest to bring Mike Bailey back here in one
piece. Wherever, or whenever, he is, he doesn’t belong there. He
belongs here.”

With Clodion sent off under heavy guard to
his one remaining estate, Redmond preparing to leave on the morrow
to deal with Autichar’s army, and Autichar himself about to return
to Bavaria to face Duke Tassilo, Michel assumed that the rest of
the Franks would spend the remainder of that last day of Mayfield
packing up their belongings. Many of them did, but a few had other
duties to see to before taking leave of Duren.

“We cannot in good conscience linger much
longer,” Charles said to Michel and Savarec. “We have already been
at Duren days beyond the time we originally intended to spend here,
and because there are so many of us, we have eaten most of the food
available in the area. It would be unfair to the good folk of Duren
for us to stay until a suitable and dignified wedding feast for
Danise and Michel can be arranged.”

“I have no desire for an elaborate
celebration,” Michel said. “A simple wedding will do.” He thought
he saw Savarec breathe a sigh of relief at hearing he would not be
expected to provide a festive meal for everyone at Mayfield. Michel
reflected that in his concern over the wedding feast Savarec was
not much different from many a twentieth century father of a bride.
The thought startled him. Michel did not often dwell on memories of
his former life, which seemed to him more distant and more
uninteresting with each day that passed for him in the eighth
century. Now that his future with Danise was a certainty, he was
perfectly content to remain in Francia.

“What we can do,” Charles went on, “is hold
the formal betrothal ceremony late this afternoon, just before our
final meal together, the feast that ends Mayfield. If you can come
to agreement on the terms of the contract, I’ll have my clerics
write it out for you.”

“That ought to be easy enough to do,” Michel
said. “If anything happens to me, I want my new lands to go
directly to Danise, and then to our children.” Michel paused on
that thought. His eyes met Savarec’s. They smiled at the same
time.

“I should like to see grandchildren,” Savarec
said.

“I will be happy to provide you with them,”
Michel responded. “I believe Danise and I are of one mind on the
matter.”

“Danise’s dowry is respectable, but not
large.”

“I don’t care. It’s Danise I love, not her
land or some pile of gold coins. Now, I understand from Redmond
that in Francia it is customary for the bridegroom to settle a
third of his possessions on his new wife.”

Michel estimated that it took them less than
ten minutes to come to an agreement. They shook hands on it, and
Charles called in one of his secretaries, ordering the contract
prepared in time to be signed and sealed before the evening
meal.

“Now,” Charles said to Michel, “I know you
have no wish to be parted from your love, but it is necessary for
you to travel at once to Clodion’s former lands, to take possession
of Elhein. There may be some difficulty if Clodion’s relatives are
unwilling to leave it. Savarec, can you spare a few of your men to
go with Michel? He may need a show of force to convince the present
occupants that he means business, and I want all of those
confiscated lands firmly in the hands of my own good friends as
soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Savarec agreed. “It’s best if
Michel puts Elhein into order before he takes Danise there.”

“From what I know of Clodion,” Michel said,
“I’ll want to have all the buildings scrubbed and fumigated before
I let her set one foot in the place.”

* * *

While the men conferred Danise searched for
Alcuin. She found him among the clerics, directing them in writing
out the account of the morning’s trial.

“Several copies must be made for the royal
records,” he said to her. “Then, the new law Charles made today
will have to be copied over and over until we have a parchment for
every noble in the land. The royal messengers will be kept busy if
all the copies are to be delivered within a week as Charles has
ordered.”

“My father says the royal messenger service
is most reliable,” Danise remarked. “When he is at Deutz, he
receives letters and instructions from Charles every few days.”

“Letters will also go out informing everyone
of the land gifts made today, and of your betrothal,” Alcuin said.
“I was glad to see you so happy when Michel asked you to marry him.
I have not forgotten how saddened you were last year by Hugo’s
death.”

“Master Alcuin, may I speak with you about
that?”

“You look troubled. Are you uncertain about
your decision to marry Michel? Do you want the betrothal ceremony
stopped? If so, we must speak to Charles at once. It will be
difficult for you, there will be gossip and whispers, but a
betrothal can be broken if you so wish it.”

“I have no doubt at all about marrying
Michel,” Danise said. “I would like to talk with you about who, and
what, he is.”

“Ah. ves.” murmured Alcuin. “The matter of
Michel’s recovery of his memory. Has he told you about it yet?”

“He told me, but he asked me not to discuss
the circumstances of his coming to Duren with anyone else. Master
Alcuin, something strange has happened. I need your advice.”

“Then let us walk apart to a quiet place
where we can speak in private.”

“That always seems to mean the forest,” she
said, smiling a little. “Or else the riverbank.”

“Since many folk are bathing in the river
today in anticipation of their homeward journeys, it will be
quieter in the forest,” Alcuin noted.

“I will take you to the place where first I
found Michel,” Danise decided. “Perhaps well find some answers
there.”

When they reached the spot, Alcuin looked
around with considerable interest.

“It seems an ordinary enough place.”
Gathering his black cleric’s robe about him, he lowered his tall
frame downward to the ground, inviting Danise to sit beside him.
“Surely, we will not be disturbed here,” he said.

“I must start by begging you not to judge me
too harshly,” Danise said. “I am forced to make a personal
confession before I can begin my story, because I believe two
events are deeply connected, one to the other.”

“I am not an ordained priest,” Alcuin warned
her. “I cannot give you absolution from your sins or impose a
penance on you. I can, however, promise not to reveal anything you
tell me.”

“I don’t believe this involves a sin,” Danise
said. “Master Alcuin, after Michel rescued me and took me upon his
horse, Redmond ordered him to remove me from the scene of the
battle with Autichar.”

“So much I heard from you yesterday and again
in the tale told to Charles this morning,” Alcuin remarked quietly,
“but naught has been said of what transpired during the night when
you and Michel were alone together. Is it of that time you wish to
speak?”

“When it began to rain we took shelter in a
charcoal maker’s hut,” she said, “and there we lay together. There
was no wicked lust in our actions. I knew then, as I know now, that
Michel loves me and I love him.”

“Your confession does not shock me,” Alcuin
told her. “Nor does it surprise me. It is but the way of young men
and women when the desire is present and the opportunity occurs.
Since love is present between you, and since you are now to wed, I
find no great harm in what you did.”

“Neither did I, either then or now.”
Recalling her night with Michel, Danise looked at Alcuin with
shining eyes. “It is what happened afterward that disturbs my
thoughts. During the night the door of the hut blew open in the
storm. Michel went to close it, and as he stood in the open
doorway, there came a great flash of lightning. At that moment, I
saw Hugo. He and Michel were the same person.”

“It would seem to me quite natural for you to
be thinking of Hugo at such a time,” Alcuin mused, “since what you
never knew with Hugo, you had that very night enjoyed with Michel.
Perhaps you cast your thoughts backward briefly, and in that moment
you saw in your mind’s eye the image of Hugo.”