“What did you say, sir?”
Bern felt the weight of Sergeant Kaye’s hand on his shoulder as the world came back into focus. “I hate when that happens,” he muttered. He frowned, and the sergeant stepped back. “Was I just talking to somebody, Kaye?”
“You spoke,” Kaye answered. He glanced at the rest of the team, who were spread out across the road. “But you weren’t talking to any of us.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Bern’s rating on the psychic scale was a lowly little three, enough to get him transferred into the TTP’s security force but not high enough to really interfere with his leading a normal, sane life. Except—sometimes he heard voices, or had a flash of intuition. He’d learned to listen to the voices and trust his gut feelings. He’d just had one of those flashes, though he couldn’t remember all the details. Of course, some details demanded he pay attention to them. He loosened his belt and adjusted his tunic.
“Something’s up,” he said. And in more ways than one.
He studied the lay of the land while he got his reaction to the woman he’d heard in his mind under control. It was spring, very close to the major seasonal fertility festival, and the road they were on led to one of the holy sites scattered all over the southern part of the island. This particular temple to the local mother goddess was located on private property, and the pilgrims were camping out in cow pastures on either side of the road. The manor at the top of the hill had been built by a wealthy Roman colonist, but the local chieftain had taken over after the Romans abandoned all their foreign outposts a generation ago. Bern didn’t care about the festival, but it made a good cover for checking out the place.
The locals were expecting travelers to congregate here.
His holomap pinpointed this site as one of the nexus locations, and despite growing doubts that any of the sites they surveyed were going to provide enough energy to get them all home, it was his duty to check it out. Finding the right door back to the future was only the second half of his assignment. His first duty was to find and rescue the science team that had disappeared six months before his unit got the order to go back and look for them.
In his opinion it had been stupid to send the eggheads back in time without a whole team of sensible people to keep them out of trouble. The mission had been fucked from the get-go. This was the farthest back anyone had tried to travel. The lost team had been sent without proper backup to a time period very little was known about. It was no wonder everything had gone wrong—twice.
He and his men were now stuck here, too.
He gestured toward the crudely built wooden palisade surrounding the estate buildings. “Let’s go see if we can get a look at what’s inside.”
Ginger was used to the world around her going fuzzy and faded, but she realized the moment before she fainted that this time it was because she’d been holding her breath while standing behind the men waiting at the gate.
When the gate opened, she simply blacked out, just as the man from her vision walked in. Their gazes met for a moment, and then everything went dark.
It was ridiculous, and she was so embarrassed that she scrunched her eyes tightly closed when she woke up, not wanting the person holding her to know that she’d come around. Those strong arms were his, weren’t they? Her head rested against a broad, hard male chest. Warmth and the scent of him engulfed her. Awareness of him pooled deep in her belly. Her nipples stiffened, scraping against the cloth of her dress, and her breasts grew heavy.
“Oh, my,” she whispered. Without making any conscious decision to move, her hand came up to stroke his strong, stubbly jaw.
She could hear his heart rate pick up when she spoke, and the deep sound of his laugh rumbled through his chest. For a moment the arms around her tightened, pressing her body harder against him.
Bern liked the weight of the woman in his arms. The touch of the bare skin of her arms and the feel of the rest of her beneath her dress made him ache, made him remember how long it had been since he’d had a woman. It also made him thankful that women didn’t wear underwear in the dark ages. And this woman was a perfect fit against him. He liked the softness of her curly red hair where it tickled his neck and cheek. He wanted to bury his face in her thick hair, then follow the line of her throat all the way down to snuggle between—
Bern gave his head a stern shake. As stimulating as holding her was, he didn’t know why he’d rushed into the courtyard and scooped her up off the ground when she fell. This wasn’t an age of chivalry yet. In fact, in these days they typically saved the cattle before they saved the women.
Calling attention to himself and his men was stupid. Keeping a low profile was a matter of policy and survival among TTP teams. So why was he holding this lady? He had no idea who this woman was or what she meant to all the locals who were staring at him. Though she did look familiar.
When she woke and spoke, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was good to know that she was as aware of him as he was of her.
Then Bern realized that the words he’d heard hadn’t been filtered through his translator implant: she’d spoken in English instead of the local lilting Celtic dialect.
He knew exactly who she was!
Her name was Virginia White, and though he’d never met her in the flesh he’d studied her holo image. Hers, and all of the others on the missing team. He had his hands on one of their primary targets. Since he already held her, he was tempted to call for his men to cover his withdrawal. They could run out the gate and make tracks, anything to ensure her safety now that he’d found her.
Since that wasn’t the smart way to play it, he put her down. Her body slid slowly down his until her feet touched the ground. She was tall and willowy, her height another clue that she wasn’t from this time.
“You—” he began.
But before he could speak or she could answer, a hand landed on his shoulder.
Bern whirled around, his hand on his sword. Over the last six months, that had become second nature.
“What?” he demanded of the potbellied graybeard before him. The stranger wore a threadbare silk tunic. Since silk was a luxury rare in these parts since the Roman withdrawal, Bern guessed he was looking at the local chieftain. “My lord,” he continued, with a polite nod.
The chieftain’s frown turned into an effusive smile. “You’re quick, I see. Good. Good.” He glanced toward the hand Bern still rested on the pommel of his sword. “Welcome to Ched,” he went on. “Come to worship at the well, have you? For the festival?”
Bern nodded. He was aware that Virginia White had moved back into the shadow of an arched doorway. He wanted nothing more than to follow her, but he had to stay in character and deal with the local potentate first.
Bern brought out a small leather pouch, heavy with gold, and handed it over. “Please accept this small gift, in honor of the goddess and your hospitality.”
The chieftain tossed the little purse to feel its weight, glanced inside, and beamed.
He looked at Bern’s people—an obvious unit of soldiers—waiting by the gate, alert for Bern’s orders. “Those are fine-looking lads you lead.”
“We come in peace for the festival,” Bern reassured the chieftain. Then he saw the speculative look in Ched’s eyes. He smiled. “But afterwards, our swords are for hire if you are interested.”
He hoped that made him sound like a friendly and useful fellow to the chieftain, just in case his unit needed an excuse to stay on after the festival. Though he hoped he could find out what Virginia White was up to before then.
Lord Ched’s grin widened. He put his arm around Bern. “Join me for some wine. What’s your name, lad?” he asked as he led Bern into the main hall.