Footsteps in Time (32 page)

On the nineteenth of July,
the day before David intended to head for his castle at Denbigh,
Math stayed with Anna all day because Mom cornered him and told him
he wasn’t allowed to leave the castle. He and Anna spent the day
peacefully, wandering in the garden or on the battlements. It was
cooler up there with the wind blowing and Anna liked to watch for
the return of the men. As evening drew near, she spotted them, glad
to see David’s banners still flying.

Knowing dinner would be served soon,
Math and Anna entered the great hall. The steward greeted Math,
coming forward to discuss the disposition of wine and mead that
evening. Anna realized that the servants had neglected to strew
fresh herbs among the rush mats on the floor and was about to
waddle forward to tell them so when David came up behind her, put
his arms around her waist (such as it was) and put his cheek to
hers.

“
Ew! Yuck!” Anna burst out,
shoving him away.

He laughed and
released her. Anna was turning back to him, to chide him for
smelling so disgusting, when she felt a
pop
, like when the pressure is
released from a bottle. And then, she ...
flickered
.

“
David!” Anna screamed. He
grabbed her hand and spun her around, toward Math, who’d moved at
the same instant. Math wrapped his arms around Anna,
gasping.

“
Hold her,” David said.
“I’ll get Mom.”

He raced away while Math
patted Anna up and down, making sure she was all there. “What
happened?” he said.

“
My water broke,” Anna
said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I just knew that I would
disappear like Mom did if I didn’t do something
quickly.”

“
So you screamed,” Math
said.

“
I fought it,” Anna said.
“I saw blackness before my feet but refused to enter
it.”

The door opens and closes;
opens and closes ... is it this simple? But now I don’t want to
go.

And then there was a
different kind of abyss before her feet, this one of her and Math’s
making, as the contractions came on relentlessly. All she could do
was surrender to them, giving up herself up to becoming a
mother.

* * * * *

It was nearly three in the morning;
Anna had been dozing for an hour or so, with Cadell cuddled against
her, nursing on and off. She opened her eyes to find the room lit
by one candle burning in its dish on the table near the bed. Math
was stretched out beside her, snoring, and Anna thought about
elbowing him but decided not to, just glad he was there, and that
he’d been there to see Cadell born.

Mom saw her wake and got up
from her chair to sit on the edge of the bed. “Do you need
anything?”

“
Clean clothes for Cadell
and me.” Anna handed her son to her mother.

I have a
son
.

Mom cradled Cadell as Anna
gingerly sat up, and then stood.

Noting the disturbance,
Math woke and in a moment was beside his wife, a hand under her
elbow. “Careful.” He walked Anna to the toilet and back, while a
maid changed the sheets and Mom changed Cadell.

“
What is it about sons?”
Anna said to Math, after she was back in bed. He now sat in a chair
under the window, Cadell asleep in his arms. For once Anna had been
able to overrule Mom and order her to bed.

“
I wouldn’t have chided you
had you given me a daughter, not like some husbands,” he said. “I
understand enough to know that it is in God’s hands.”

“
But you’re not sorry,”
Anna said.

“
No.” Then he explained,
“Think on your father; what it means for him to have your brother
to follow after him.”

“
Gwenllian could never have
been enough,” Anna said.

“
Not here. I can’t
comprehend what your world must be like if there are more women
like you and your mother in it. It seems impossible.” He glanced
up, having kept his gaze on Cadell’s face as they’d talked. “You
could have returned to it.”

“
Maybe,” Anna said. “Or
maybe the abyss would have taken me somewhere else
entirely.”

“
Thank you for staying,” he
said.

“
I’ve known for some time
what I have here.” Anna tucked the blanket under her chin. “I have
the two of you.”

Chapter Twelve

David

A
ccording to Mom, Anna did really well and actually had a
short, easy labor. She looked pretty terrible, however, when David
went in to see her at midnight, half an hour after Cadell was born.
Her face was red and puffy and it looked like she’d burst some
blood vessels in her eyes. David lied, though, and said she looked
great.

Cadell was nursing by then, and David
didn’t want to get too close, but the baby had a nice bunch of
black hair, curly like Anna’s. Mom assured David that Cadell looked
exactly like a newborn should look. Math was so happy David thought
his smile would split his face. David hoped he would have been just
as happy if Anna had given him a girl, but at least the pressure
was now off Anna to produce a son.

David was more
concerned about the
flickering
. Mom had been in her
sitting room on the second floor, but she’d heard the commotion and
met David half-way down the stairs. “It’s Anna. Her water
broke.”

“
Okay,” Mom had said,
totally calm. “I’ll get Aaron. You send a groom for the
midwife.”

She’d turned back upstairs but then
David had caught her arm. “We almost lost her, Mom,” David said. “I
saw her fade out for a second, but I grabbed her hand and she came
back.”

Mom gasped. “My God. Is Math with her
now?”

“
Yes,” David said. “I told
him not to let her go.”

“
When I went into labor
with you, I was holding Anna and ended up in Pennsylvania. My
greatest fear has been that the same thing might happen to her. But
how could I prevent it without knowing when her labor would
start?”

“
I held her and she stayed
with me,” David said slowly. “Maybe this is a woman-thing. Maybe
you and Anna have an ability to shift between worlds, but I don’t.
Maybe I’m only here because Anna brought me along for the
ride.”

“
Then why didn’t she take
you with her this time, back to Pennsylvania?”

“
I don’t
know.” David shook his head.
Another
theory, shot down
.

Everyone was totally
absorbed in the baby, and as David felt pretty useless in that
department, he hung around for only a few days to make sure
everything was really okay before riding north as he’d planned.
David was glad that Cadell was taking Mom’s mind off worrying about
him, but he knew that if he stuck around, she’d no doubt start
again.

David’s impression while at Dinas Bran
was that Aaron had seemed somber, but now he thought about it, it
was more that he was sad, even dejected. When David quizzed him, he
insisted all was well. Finally at Denbigh, David cornered him and
demanded he tell him the truth. Was he unwell? Had his son refused
to receive him?

“
My son is well, my lord. I
talked with him for several hours—no more than that as it wouldn’t
have been wise for him to be seen with me. We arranged to meet in a
tavern, as if accidentally. He asks to be remembered to
you.”

David nodded, and Aaron continued.
“It’s my brother, my lord. He was much taken aback by the news that
Edward had expelled the Jews from London. At first he refused to
believe it. But then, it was as if he reversed himself, and the
bile and invective he directed against his English masters had both
his son and me urging him to quiet his rage. The root of it all,
however, is that my brother has a malady that he cannot cure,
something that affects his moods and thoughts. Neither of us,
despite our experience, know what to do. It’s a wasting
disease.”

“
I am sorry, Aaron,” David
said.

“
He’s an old man now,”
Aaron said, “past fifty years old, but his death will not be an
easy one, I fear.”

“
Will you see him again,
once we’re in Lancaster?” David said.

“
It seems so, and for that
I’m grateful. It might be for the last time.”

“
You couldn’t persuade him
to leave his position and come to Wales?”

“
No,” Aaron said. “He will
not come. He spoke of sending Moses, after his death, and I
encouraged both of them to consider it well. I warned him that the
news from London indicated the extent to which there is no future
for Jews in England. I didn’t tell him all, of course, for I should
have no prior knowledge of Edward’s future edicts, but I made my
point as clearly as I could. Perhaps in Lancaster, I can make my
case again. It would be better for him to die among friends than
among enemies.”

A few days later, they reached
Rhuddlan where the boats were waiting to take them to Lancaster.
David had left Taranis behind at Buellt in favor of a new horse,
Bedwyr, who was smaller, sturdier, and better able to handle a sea
voyage. Still, David found himself missing Taranis—they could talk
to each other, and despite what Owain had said long ago at Castell
y Bere, Taranis understood American English really well. David
gazed across the sea to England, the land of his enemies, and
laughed at the thought that three years ago, his enemy had been
Bill Morgan (with a Welsh name no less!) who enjoyed tripping and
shoving David in the halls at school.

Increasingly, the years
between 1285 and 2013 weighed on David. No matter how much he
learned about Wales, he was a child of the twenty-first century,
not the thirteenth. David knew it wasn’t his job to bring Wales all
the way to modern times intact. He couldn’t transport it into the
future single-handedly, but that didn’t stop him wanting to. So
much had to happen between now and then. At least David was
unlikely to see the Black Plague come to Wales—and even that caused
him to struggle with himself. Was there some way to warn his
descendants of the future? What could they do about it, even if
they knew? Perhaps, given some breathing space without war with
England, David’s family could effect changes over time in
education, medicine, science, and perhaps even religion.

For the present journey,
David’s company had three vessels to carry them to England, all
similar to the one Mom had traveled in when she came from Scotland,
though larger and designed to carry horses. However, unlike that
journey, David had a royal writ of safe passage and his ships would
hug the shoreline to avoid whatever weather the sea chose to throw
at them. It was late July, and the weather prospects were mild, but
with the Irish Sea, one never knew. Aaron confessed that he’d sworn
never to set foot on board a ship again. As his Prince, David
absolved him of his oath.

They wouldn’t actually be meeting in
the City of Lancaster, but in the nearby countryside. This was one
of the Scot requirements for the meeting, and in truth, the Welsh
were happier to meet in the open air rather than inside a walled
city and so acquiesced without complaint.

Fortunately, the weather was fair and
after a few days, the ships sat off the English coast, preparing to
come to shore at the little village of Poulton. Carew, who knew the
area, said that it was five miles from there to the English camp.
The ships docked at four in the afternoon, giving David plenty of
time to establish his camp and send word to Edward that he’d
arrived. Happy to be back on dry land, David set out and as Carew
predicted, rode out of some wooded hills an hour later to see the
English camped at the head of a meadow some distance
ahead.

“
We should set up over
there, sir.” Bevyn pointed to a spot at the base of the hill. “I
don’t think it wise to get too close.”

“
We’re going to have to go
in there eventually,” David said. “With five or twenty-five of us,
it makes no difference. We’re outnumbered.”

“
We’re always outnumbered,”
Bevyn grumbled.

David laughed and clapped him on the
shoulder. “That’s what makes it so much fun!”

“
I must think on this,”
Carew said. “We must consider how to best present
ourselves.”

David looked over at him.
“You think fewer would be better.”

“
Having seen the lay of
the land, I’m not happy about committing our entire party to this
endeavor. I discussed this with your father before we left; I would
have you lead a small party and leave the rest of the men outside.
I don’t trust Edward.”

They rode another quarter
mile and set up camp where Bevyn had indicated. David sent a rider
to inform Edward of his arrival, and shortly thereafter, Edward
sent word that David was to come to him at his leisure. When David
received the message, he was in his tent with Hywel, contemplating
his attire. Carew had insisted David arrive in full regalia—armor,
sword, and banners—less for protection, than to show Edward the
splendor of Welsh nobility.

All David cared about was that it
meant donning his mail again. He’d lived in it for all the weeks he
was in the south, and had enjoyed the respite from it while on
board the ship. Hywel had polished each link until it shone, but
that didn’t make David any happier about putting it on
again.