A Trail Through Time (The Chronicles of St Mary's, #4)

He sighed. ‘Nothing but complaints.’


‘Would it have killed you to have grabbed a slice on the way out? I bet these Time Police people are scoffing my breakfast even as we speak.’

We sat for a while, as the world got brighter and warmer.

He shifted his position. ‘I was going to ask, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. How did you get here?’

‘You mean here, in this world?’

‘Yes. What happened at Agincourt?’

I started slowly. ‘It was my last jump. Tim Peterson and me. I was going to be Deputy Director, you know.’

‘I can only assume that Dr Bairstow had suffered some sort of neural event. Did you manage to get yourself stabbed during the battle? Did you get too close?’

‘Well, of course we got too close. We were right up there with the archers. But no, it happened when we went to check out the baggage train at the rear.’

I closed my eyes and it all sprang to life in front of me.

‘The baggage train was behind the battle. As were the hundreds of French prisoners. We wanted to see if Henry’s order to kill them was justified. And whether if it was carried out at all. Just as we arrived, a bunch of French peasants came out of nowhere. They weren’t fighting in the battle; they’d come to scavenge, rob the dead and wounded, steal the horses – that sort of thing.

‘I know what you’re going to say, but we were actually retreating. We were on our way back to the pod. There was fighting all around us. The bastards were killing the wounded, the priests, and the young boys, everyone they could. One came out of nowhere and nearly took Peterson’s arm off.’

I stopped and swallowed, reliving that moment.

‘He was … so brave. I got him away and tied up the wound. He was conscious, but barely. The pod wasn’t far away but he wasn’t going to make it. I’d lost you. I couldn’t lose him as well.’

I stopped.

‘What did you do?’

‘I pushed him into a hollow, hit him over the head with a rock, buried him under the leaves, and left him.’

‘Good job he was a friend of yours. What do you do to people you don’t like?’

I choked out a laugh.

He rubbed my arm. ‘That’s better. Then what?’

‘I took off. I ran and ran. Through the wet woods. Making as much noise as I could. They followed me. One was ahead of me. I ran slap into him. While I was dealing with him, someone ran me through with a sword. I never knew anything about it.’

I stopped. He was still drawing triangles in the dirt. I took a deep breath and lived it all again. ‘Everything went very quiet and still. I looked up at the black branches and the white sky. Nothing moved.’

I was talking to myself, now.

‘I didn’t feel the need to breathe. Everything had ended. Everything was over. I felt no regret. I’d given Tim a fighting chance. I fell forwards. Onto your carpet. Which I’ve bled all over and probably lost you your cleaning deposit. Sorry about that.’

‘And that’s what happened?’

I nodded. What I’d told him was the truth. Just not all of it. I hadn’t mentioned Mrs Partridge’s part in all this. I mean, what do you say? ‘Oh, I was dying in the 15th century and then the Muse of History plucked me out of my world and dropped me into yours – to fulfil some task she wouldn’t tell me about?’

I don’t know why I was so wary of mentioning Mrs Partridge. It’s not as if her role makes the story any more weird, any less believable, or any more impossible. Nothing could. The whole thing is completely weird, unbelievable, and impossible. On the other hand, I travel through time for a living, so don’t talk to me about weird, unbelievable, or impossible. Really, I suppose, instead of jumping backwards or forwards, I’d just gone – sideways.

Please do not repeat that theory to any reputable physicist. I don’t want to be spat on in the streets.

I left Leon setting up camp and wandered slowly through the trees for a first glimpse of the glittering, turquoise sea, listening to the birds greeting the new day, hearing the distant crash of surf and the sound of the wind sighing in the pine trees. This was always a special moment for me. I sat on a rock and relived some happy memories.

Trees marched down to the shore, their acid-green foliage contrasting sharply with the rust-red soil and rocks. All the colours were sharp and fresh. The sun shone from a cloudless, blue, blue sky. It would be hot later on. Everything was still and peaceful. This had always been a little piece of heaven. Nothing bad ever happened here.