Empire's Edge Read online

  Empire's Edge

  Girl Across Time, Volume 2

  Dai Pryce

  Published by Ddraig Goch, 2022.

  While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  EMPIRE'S EDGE

  First edition. August 16, 2022.

  Copyright © 2022 Dai Pryce.

  ISBN: 979-8201174330

  Written by Dai Pryce.

  Also by Dai Pryce

  Girl Across Time

  Uprising

  Empire's Edge

  Uncivil Times

  The Madoc Chronicles

  New World

  Into the Unknown

  Watch for more at Dai Pryce’s site.

  To my mum and dad, who were always there for me and constantly encouraged my inquiring mind. Much loved and missed. 'Bythol yn fy Nghalon'

  Empire's Edge

  Girl Across Time

  Book 2

  By

  Dai Pryce

  Copyright © 2022 by David MacCallum-Price For sound files to help with the pronunciation of Welsh names, plus lots of other useful information, please head over to daipryce.com.

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from David MacCallum-Price.

  All artwork by David MacCallum-Price

  www.stripephoto.com

  “ The memory of everything is very soon overwhelmed in time.” — Marcus Aurelius

  CHAPTER 1 - Jumpers

  Megan couldn't see, nor breathe, so much water; someone squeezed her hand, then there was air, sunlight. Coughing and spluttering she dragged herself to the bank and flopped down next to Hugh — they had made it. As she lay there, an awful thought struck; what if they were still in twelve ninety-four and had simply survived falling from the top of the Donjon?

  They lay in silence; there were no yells, and no one had fired a crossbow bolt or flung a spear at them. Megan decided that had to be a good sign. In fact, apart from a few birds tweeting, there were no sounds. Perhaps it was early morning? Few people visited the modern day castle at that hour.

  She sat up, looked around and her mouth fell open.

  "Megan, what's wrong?"

  "It's not there."

  "What isn't?"

  "The castle." Hugh sat bolt upright.

  Where once had stood a mighty stone fortress, there was nothing. Had they gone so far into the future? Megan jumped up eager to see what Flint looked like in this time; would there be flying cars? Instead, there was nothing but trees.

  Hugh shook his head. "How can there be no castle? We jumped from its walls moments ago."

  Megan ran the scenarios in her head; even if they had traveled forward, there should be some evidence of the walls. For goodness sake she'd seen thousand year old Roman remains on a trip to Chester with her mom and dad.

  She pulled Hugh to his feet. "Come on, help me look for remnants of the castle walls."

  They scoured what should have been the site of King Edward's first fortress in Wales, but there was nothing, not even a single stone. She turned to Hugh; there was a tear forming in the corner of his eye. She grasped hold of his hand.

  "How is this possible?" he asked, voice cracking.

  Megan wished Dafydd was still with them; he would have known what had happened.

  "Let's take a look around." She pulled on Hugh's hand, and reluctantly he allowed himself to be dragged away from what should have been his home.

  As they walked along the shoreline, Meagan let the options swirl around her brain. That there were no remains at all could mean only one thing; the castle had yet to be built. They had jumped back in time, but how far?

  "There's a ship out on the water, look," Hugh said.

  She looked in the direction Hugh indicated. "They are pulling something out of the water."

  He nodded. "I can't make out what it is; likely a net if they are fisherman."

  "Yeah, probably. Do you know what was in this area before they built the castle?"

  "As children we were told there was nothing here."

  Megan wondered if that was true or lies propagated by King Edward.

  "Shall we head inland, she what we can find?" she asked.

  Hugh nodded, and with a final forlorn glance over his shoulder, moved away from the water's edge.

  Ω

  Megan pulled aside a branch. "What do you make of that Hugh?"

  With wide eyes, he looked at the road made of stone. They navigated their way across the ditch that ran alongside it and stood for a few moments admiring the construction.

  "When did the Romans leave Britain?" Megan asked, trying to recall what she’d read on the subject; which sadly wasn't much. There had been that museum in Chester on their visit. She closed her eyes, racking her brains.

  "Megan."

  Give me a chance to think Hugh.

  "Megan."

  His voice was insistent.

  "What?" she snapped, opening her eyes.

  A wooden cart pulled by a donkey trundled towards them. The man leading the animal wasn't dressed like any Roman she'd ever seen in a history book or online. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hugh's hand drift to the hilt of the sword dangling from his hip.

  "Wait," she hissed.

  The man slowed as he got closer. Megan stepped forward with a broad smile on her face. He looked her up and down

  "Where did you two spring from?" the man asked. The language was unfamiliar to Megan, but thanks to the pendant she could understand him.

  "The language he is speaking; it sounds a little like Welsh, but different," Hugh said.

  Megan turned. "Does your pendant not translate for you?"

  He looked blankly at her. So, Dafydd hadn’t been bullshitting, Megan thought. It wasn't just the pendant, there was something special about her. A jolt of electricity snaked down her back. That was he good news; the bad? They were hundreds, maybe even a thousand years further back than when they'd started.

  CHAPTER 2 - The Settlement

  They'd been walking for about fifteen minutes when the village came into view. The word 'village' perhaps overstated the settlement consisting of four huts, each topped with a conical shaped thatched roof.

  Two children ran up to them and the little girl grabbed at Megan's dress. She was still dressed like a thirteenth century king's daughter due to their rapid departure. The only thing left from the twenty-first century was the Dollyrots t-shirt sitting snuggly under the fancy medieval clothes.

  The boy looked a couple of years older; his gaze fell on the hilt of Hugh's sword, and unable to control his excitement, he reached for it; Hugh slapped his hand away and the boy yelled out.

  A man emerged out of the nearest hut; his hair was long, matching his droopy mustache. He looked annoyed.

  "Erbin, who are these people? Where did they come from?" The man with the cart looked sheepish.

  Megan stepped forward and smiled; the new arrival eyed her with suspicion.

  "Who are you?" He asked. "Are you from Deva? You do not dress like Romans."

  'Deva' why did that name ring a bell to Megan? She turned to Hugh.

  "Have you heard of a town called Deva?"

  "Is it not the Roman name for the city of Chester?"

  "Of course," Megan muttered. They’d gone back all the way to Roman Wales. She couldn't imagine this ending well.

 
She nodded, and although he appeared skeptical, the man indicated toward the hut.

  "Please, join me, we can wait for Optio Castus together."

  She whispered to Hugh. "What’s an Optio?" He shrugged. Once more, she wished Dafydd was with them. Had he been to this time period, she wondered? And if so, how the hell had he got out?

  Ω

  The oppressive atmosphere in the hut hung as thick as the smoke drifting toward the hole in the roof. Megan leaned in to Hugh.

  "How are we going to get out of this? Even if we fake our way past these guys and convince the Romans not to kill us or crucify us or whatever they like to do, we need to find another point to jump in time. Dafydd said there were others, but we only know of the Donjon at Flint."

  "I might be able to help there." Hugh tapped his chest as if he had an unseen document in his breast pocket.

  Before she had chance to interrogate him further, there was a commotion outside and their not so genial host indicated they should stand, then shoved them out into the daylight.

  Behind a column of soldiers were three carts pulled by donkeys. At the head of the procession stood a tall man, dressed in what looked like a cream-colored skirt extending just above his knees. Short sleeves the same color poked out from beneath an overshirt of mail.

  On closer inspection, the short-sleeved top and skirt revealed themselves to be one garment. His head was encased in a helmet with a white feather Mohawk extending from front to back, it reminded Megan of an old school punk rocker. In his right hand he held a staff with a polished steel ball attached to the top.

  The village man stepped forward. "Optio Castus, welcome." The new arrival cast his gaze in Megan and Hugh’s direction.

  "And who do we have here, Drustan?"

  "Erbin came across them on the coast road sir; they claim to have come from Deva."

  The Roman's eyes narrowed. "Do they indeed? Given the strange garb they wear, I find that unlikely."

  Megan swallowed hard; the word best describing their situation appeared to be, 'busted'.

  Hugh stepped forward and bowed. "I think our host misunderstood, sir."

  Megan presumed the language he'd spoken was Latin. He’d kept quiet about his ability to do that.

  "We are on our way to Deva Victrix, not coming from it," Hugh added.

  The Roman officer eyed them once more. "That still wouldn't explain your attire; then there is the matter of what is at your hip." He barked out two words, and before Hugh could protest, his arms were pinned behind his back and the sword removed from its scabbard.

  The officer's brows arched. "A fine weapon, too fine for a local tribesman, and not Roman in origin. This is indeed a mystery. Perhaps the legate will get to the bottom of it all? Although before we depart; Drustan, have one of your women find something more appropriate for her to wear."

  Ω

  Hugh and Megan sat at the water's edge watching acrid black smoke curl skyward out of three cone shaped brick structures. There were two men tending to each of them; stripped to the waist and sweating profusely as they pumped up and down on large wood frames covered in animal hide.

  It reminded Megan of a scene out of nineteenth century industrialized Britain, not second or third century, or 'whenever' they were. She chuckled to herself, recalling an episode of Family Guy where Brian had said something similar, and Stewie had replied. "Oh, that's such a douchie time traveler thing to say."

  "What's so funny?" Hugh asked.

  "Oh, nothing." Megan decided their situation was confusing enough without trying to explain Family Guy to a fifteen-year-old medieval boy.

  "Any idea what those things are Hugh?"

  "You mean the bellows?"

  "What are bellows?"

  "Don't you remember? Back at Bleddyn's blacksmith's shop in the castle at Mold? They are used to drive air into a fire."

  Megan thought about Tudur for the first time in ages and wondered what he was doing. Had he survived his flogging in Ruthin? Then a thought struck her; Tudur wouldn't be born for another thousand years or so. Would he still meet them? Were there different timelines? Time-travel was mind bending.

  "So, what do you think they are making?" she asked.

  At that moment one of the men stopped pumping and moved to the front of the brick structure. He smacked his hammer against the wall and a silver-colored liquid poured out.

  "Is that silver?" Megan asked, a little in awe of what she was witnessing.

  A voice bellowed out. "Once the pour is finished and the pigs have cooled, get them loaded onto the ship. The drainage system upgrade is waiting on this lead."

  Mystery solved. Megan turned to Hugh as another of the lead smelters disgorged its prize into a mold.

  "What did you mean back there?" she asked.

  He gave her a quizzical look, so she tapped the left side of her chest as he had done.

  "Oh that."

  She shook her head in mock exasperation; well mostly mock. "Yes, that."

  "Something Dafydd gave me at the abbey, while you were sleeping."

  "What?" Megan’s exclamation was loud enough to attract the attention of two nearby soldiers. She smiled at them.

  "What?" she hissed. "And you're only telling me now? Is it a letter?"

  "No, a map."

  Megan glanced at the guards; they had returned to their conversation.

  "Let's have a look."

  Hugh pulled a folded piece of thick, yellowing parchment from inside his jerkin. He passed it to Megan and she carefully unfolded it.

  "It’s a map of Wales," Megan said. "Look, there’s Flint." The word 'Donjon' was scribbled underneath the sketch of a castle tower. She glanced once more at the soldiers — they were still chatting.

  There were several other spots marked; a five-pointed star on the island of Anglesey, another castle on the west coast, and about where modern-day Chester stood, the words ‘NE Tower'. The map gave Megan some hope they weren't stuck after all.

  There was a note scrawled along the top of the parchment.

  She read out loud what Dafydd had written. "Beware the dark-haired man; you will know him by the scar on his left cheek. I gave it to him."

  The Optio yelled, "Right, let's move off. We'll take the smaller ship. I can't be waiting all day for the pigs to cool." Megan gave the parchment back to Hugh and he shoved it inside his jerkin.

  "And another thing," Megan hissed. "How come you can speak Latin?"

  Hugh grinned. "Later."

  CHAPTER 3 - The Fortress

  Trees, trees, and more trees, it reminded Megan of back home in Virginia. She didn’t know what the shoreline of the modern river looked like, but in Roman times there wasn't much in the way of habitation.

  She turned to Hugh. "So, how come you can speak Latin?"

  "My mother had my father employ a priest to teach me."

  "Was that normal?"

  He grinned and shook his head. "I think she was hoping I might end up a holy man rather than a soldier."

  "I can't see you as a priest," Megan said, and Hugh chuckled.

  "It would be a waste," she mumbled.

  "Huh?"

  "Nothing. Do you think it's much further?" He shrugged. For a second Megan wondered if they should ask the Optio but thought better of it. After all, they were trying to convince him they belonged there. She doubted it would do their case much good if Hugh were to ask him, 'Are we there yet?'.

  "I think you have your answer." She turned at Hugh's words, and on the left side of the boat — was that starboard or port, she could never remember — a deep ditch ran for several hundred yards. Looming over it, a red sandstone wall stretched along its entire length. Guard towers protruded from each corner, and as Megan stared, a solider holding a spear emerged out of the one on the left.

  She glanced at Hugh and his eyebrows flicked skyward. What had the damn pendants gotten them into?

  There was a shout; the sail was lowered and two pairs of oars were thrust into the water. Ahead, a wooden jet
ty jutted into the river. Standing on it were half-a-dozen men.

  The Optio barked out an order before turning to address Megan and Hugh.

  "You two, come with me." He beckoned them over with a 'come hither' motion of his finger.

  Megan whispered to Hugh. "How are you feeling?"

  "Apprehensive," he hissed. That didn’t do much to reassure her, given that Hugh had grown up amidst the violence of medieval Wales, and she'd seen him kill a man on the walls of Caernarfon Castle,

  With the Optio at their head, and two of his men behind, the group marched along the jetty toward the Roman settlement of what would, one day, become modern-day Chester.

  The clip-clop of metal on wood caused Megan to glance back at the spear carrying soldiers; they wore leather sandals on their feet. That didn't make any sense until she remembered the visit to that museum in Chester. The sandals had nails in the soles, so they didn’t wear out so quickly.

  She looked down at the soft medieval leather shoes on her feet. Her beloved Converse were at Basingwerk Abbey. She'd wanted to wear them, but Dafydd had convinced her it was a bad idea. At the time, she'd figured 'what evs', as she'd just buy new ones when she got back to her own time. So much for that plan.

  The jetty crossed the deep, wide ditch, and looming over them stood a gatehouse tower, at least as big as the one at Conwy Castle. This time there were no crossbow wielding guards staring down, and with the Optio at their head they didn't have long to wait before the gates swung open.

  Wooden planks gave way to a stone pathway leading into the fortress. An ominous thud caused Megan to snap her head around — the gates had been closed. For better or worse, and the latter seemed most likely, they were in a Roman fort with no obvious way of getting out.

  Ω

  "I've never seen the like," Hugh hissed, as they walked down the paved street. Either side were whitewashed buildings supported by columns. It reminded Megan of the HBO show 'The Romans'. Then was also the occasional pretentious antebellum house in Virginia with their faux columns. This was the real deal though; and it screamed wealth and power, especially compared to the smoke-filled hut back at the village.