Keeper of the Black Stones (47 page)

He turned toward Paul, and simply shook his head in disappointment. Then he turned toward Tatiana. A corner of his mouth drew up in a wry smile.

“You must be John's granddaughter. He's told me of you. I assume that he's unaware of your whereabouts.”

Tatiana lifted one eyebrow. “He doesn't know I came, if that's what you mean. He wouldn't have approved. I wasn't going to let him stop me.”

Doc barked with laughter, then stalked quickly back toward our horses, snapping orders as he went. “Come, we must ride. None of you will say a word until we are back in the confines of my tent, is that understood? Once we are there, none of you will say anything about where you've come from or what you're doing here. Agreed?”

“Yes, sir,” we replied in unison.

Katherine paused for a moment, glaring at the rest of us, then spoke as though she was correcting us. “Yes,
my Lord
,” she said clearly.

Doc stopped at that, frowning, and glanced at Katherine for the first time. His eyes ran down her body and back up, and he glanced at me in question.

“And who, may I ask, is
this?
” he snapped.

“Katherine of Doncaster, my Lord,” she replied. Her chin lifted in pride and her eyes sought his out, and I wondered again at the change in her since our first meeting. This was not the same girl we'd rescued, and it wasn't only because she was wearing Tatiana's clothes.

Doc grunted in response, then broke into his quick stride again. “Come! We have much to discuss this evening, and very little time to do it. Your timing could not have been worse, though it seems you may have brought important information.”

“But–” I started anxiously.

Doc cut me off with a stern look as he swung up into his saddle. “Not here,” he snapped again, plunging into the woods and disappearing. We scrambled to mount our own horses to follow him.

“I have to admit, this isn't the welcome I was expecting,” Paul mumbled as he crouched behind Katherine on their horse.

“You and me both,” I replied. Turning, I drove my horse forward after the man I called grandfather.

35

W
e galloped out of the woods and onto the plains in a tightly packed group, with Doc at the front. He was driving his horse hard, and the rest of us were struggling a bit to keep up. My initial euphoria at seeing him had quickly subsided; he seemed to be anything but pleased to see us. In fact, he seemed downright angry about it. I wondered if the stones had somehow altered his personality, and whether that was even possible. Did he truly become someone else when he traveled? Did the stones make him who they needed him to be? I didn't think that had happened to me, but the person who rode with us now certainly wasn't my grandfather. At least not the version of him I knew.

Ahead of us, hundreds and perhaps thousands of people had gathered on the gradual slope that led to Henry Tudor's encampment. I studied the camp as well as I could as we raced through, now that I'd learned–the hard way–about knowing the importance of your surroundings. Hundreds of tents, wagons, and other temporary structures covered the slope of the hill and the valley that lay beyond. I was surprised at the number of women and children among the people; they outnumbered the soldiers themselves, and gave the encampment a cheerful, almost festive air. It certainly wasn't what I'd expected of a military camp, but then I was growing used to things being unexpected.

Somewhere, far in the distance, I felt one of the stones. It wasn't here, I didn't think–its whisper was faint, as though it was traveling over a long distance. I pulled at it experimentally, wondering where it was, and it got a bit stronger. Interesting. I put that fact away for future use, and concentrated on keeping up with Doc.

I looked over at Paul, to make sure that and Katherine were keeping up, and saw that he seemed to be enjoying the attention people were giving us. Everyone was bowing and calling my grandfather “Lord” as he passed, showing respect and love for the man leading their army. Paul was taking the praise for himself, and waving at the people as if he were Snow White riding in a gilded carriage at Disney World. Reis, on the other hand, was stoic and guarded, studying the terrain and people closely. If I knew the man as well as I thought I did, he was looking carefully for escape routes. Two of them, if he could manage it. His hand rested lightly on the gun at his side, and I saw that he still had the assault rifle strapped across his back. He didn't trust this situation, or the new version of Doc, any more than I did. Tatiana rode on my other side, her shoulders tense and her face cold. I couldn't blame her. Doc hadn't exactly given us a warm welcome.

After riding through the entire camp, we finally pulled up outside one of the largest tents on the hill. The canvas structure was surrounded by at least two dozen flags, all with different colors and shapes. Birds of prey seemed to be the main theme, though other banners featured wolves, boar, large cats, and lots and lots of crosses.

“The lords who are fighting with Henry Tudor,” I murmured, looking through the standards. At least twenty of them, from what I could tell. Doc had gathered a mighty army for Henry. But would it be enough to stop Dresden and his guns?

I hoped so. The world was, after all, depending on it.

Two young men, no older than twelve, ran out from behind Doc's tent to help with our horses. They were dressed in dark brown leather jerkins, with black breeches held up by yellowing rope. They wore tattered brown boots without spurs, and bowed repeatedly. They also knew what they were doing; they had all the horses by the reins in moments, ready to lead them away.

We dismounted at their urging, and looked around.

Doc's tent stood on its own, with a large open area around it, as though no one else wanted to get close to him. Given the expression on his face, I could understand why; he had turned on us again, his face dark and angry.

“Jason, Paul, Reis, into my tent, if you please. I shall deal with you first.” He turned to Tatiana and Katherine, his face growing somewhat gentler. “If you ladies will wait here–”

“They come with us,” I snapped, interrupting him. I'd been taught never to speak over my elders, but if he was going to treat us as hostile strangers, he'd receive the same treatment from me. “These are my friends,” I continued. “Anything you have to say to me can be said to them too.”

He raised his eyebrows, shocked at this turn of events, and opened his mouth to protest. Reis stepped into place behind me, though, followed by Paul, Katherine, and Tatiana, and my grandfather closed his mouth. He nodded slowly, and I thought I saw something change in his eyes. Then he turned and walked abruptly into his tent.

“Come!” he shouted over his shoulder.

I scrambled to follow, my heart racing, but looked up as we entered, just in time to feel the first drop of rain on my cheek. A flash of lightening suddenly lit up the skyline, followed by a crash of thunder, and the pile of leaves next to me exploded in the first gust of rain-borne wind.
How appropriate
, I thought grimly. I ducked into the tent before the rain could start for real, and looked around.

The cloth structure was surprisingly large inside, and comfortably decorated. Several multi-colored rugs stretched across the ground, with clumps of bright green grass poking up between them. Two round tables sat next to one another in the middle of the space, both littered with maps and countless pieces of crusty-looking paper. Eight heavy wooden chairs were arranged loosely around the tables, and a lumpy bed sat in the far corner of the tent. It wasn't exactly the Hilton, but it was certainly more than I'd expected in a war camp.

We gathered awkwardly around the two large tables, not sure of our place or reception here. Doc still had his back to us, as though he couldn't bear to face us quite yet. Finally he turned, raking his fingers through his thick grey hair, stripped off his cape and mail, and straightened to glare at us, one at a time. Even Katherine got a cold look. In the end, though, his gaze came to rest on me.

“Are you ready to explain yourself, young man?” he asked quietly. He was angry, I could see that much. He also looked incredibly tired. And sad. “I have worked so hard to keep you out of this, to protect both your life and your world. Why are you putting that at risk?”

I opened my mouth to reply, wondering how I was going to explain, but a crack of thunder rang out, interrupting me. Reis stepped forward to lay a hand on my shoulder.

“Sir, if I may,” he said abruptly. “Jason had only your welfare at heart. He learned of the stones, and the danger to your life. We went to Fleming, sir, and learned what we needed to know to make the trip. Paul and I agreed to jump to the past with Jason.”

“And you believed that you were doing the right thing?” Doc snapped in answer. “You were paid to protect the boy, not encourage him to run pellmell into the first trouble he could find!”

“Sir, they would have come with or without me,” Reis answered, a slight smile at his lips. “I believed, sir, that it was best for me to accompany them. To continue protecting Jason, so to speak.”

“You should have stopped them!” Doc repeated, running his hands through his hair again and pacing across the tent. At this rate, I thought, he was going to have a coronary before we even got to the battle.

Besides, Reis had already shouldered enough of my grandfather's anger.

“He
couldn't
have stopped us, Doc! I knew what I had to do, and I wasn't going to let anything keep me from it,” I said firmly.

Doc glanced at me, frowning, and Reis cut in again. “I believe, sir, that you'll find your grandson somewhat … changed.”

For a moment, no one spoke, the only sound the pitter patter of rain on the tent around us. I held my breath, wondering what my grandfather was going to do. He couldn't send me back, that much was certain; I was already there, and there wasn't much he could do about it. It would make things a lot easier if he'd just accept that and get on with it. We didn't exactly have time to sit around arguing.

Finally Doc settled back against the table, waiting. “Changed? How?” Then he glanced at the door, seeming to remember where we were, and straightened. “And quickly. We don't have much time.”

I took a deep breath. Here it was, then, the moment I'd been waiting for. The moment when I could finally tell someone who just
might
understand what I'd been through. But where to start? The beginning seemed as good a place as any.

“Well,” I finally said, “it all started when I had a dream…”

I gave Doc a quick sketch of the dream I'd had about Lord Stanley and Dresden, along with Dresden's threats. I went on to tell him what I'd decided to do, and that I could feel the stones. That they'd been talking to me and even giving me information. I told him that there'd been a stone at Nottingham, and that I could feel one here, though it was far away. Then I told him that they were still sending me visions. I left out our adventures of the last few days; those weren't important to the current situation, and we were running dangerously short of time. I finished with the tale of William Stanley, though, and noted that his presence would – ideally – alter certain plans of Dresden's.

The longer I spoke, the more concerned and confused Doc's face became. I didn't bother to look at anyone else as I rushed through the story; I knew they'd believe me, and they weren't the important ones here. Finally, though, Doc held up a hand, signaling me to stop. My words died on my lips, and I waited anxiously.

“You can read the stones?” he asked breathlessly. “I thought … I had thought I was the only one.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “And you say that you can hear them? Incredible…”

I blew a soft breath through my teeth at his words, thinking that I finally had his attention. Maybe now he'd listen to what I had to say, start taking me a little more seriously. I opened my mouth to continue, but stopped when the tent flaps flew open, revealing a dark, stormy sky, driving rain, and a man in armor and a cape. We turned with gasps toward the intruder.

“How long have you been standing there?” Doc asked in a strangled voice.