The arrival of Adrie and the stranger in Streines late one evening was to say the least unexpected. The lad was widely believed to have died several months before by falling into a ravine, so his sudden reappearance was a shock, only his immediate family and Cam knew that his disappearance was under entirely different circumstances. However Adrie was seen by only a handful of inebriated men so the problem was not as great as it may have been.

Cam P’gnole was surprised, thankful, well he wasn’t really sure what he felt, relief probably came out on top. The stranger he had brought with him was called Jon Sargent, a friend it seemed of Elke. The full story of Adrie’s disappearance and subsequent return was to say the least incredible to the ears of Cam and his family.

When the new arrivals learnt of the Romans and the departure of Cherryh, Elke and the others they were both dismayed, Adrie as he felt he should be in on the enterprise, John because the love of his life had gone to some as yet unknown fate. The immediate problem was explaining to the rest of the village Adrie’s rise from the dead. Cam came up with a scheme that seemed just about plausible – unknown to Cam; Adrie had survived the fall although unconscious. Jon had heard his calls for help sometime later and rescued the injured youngster, who he had then taken back to his own village beyond the high pass.

John was fairly well disguised with his temporary face tattoo and gear much like their own, the story was accepted by the villagers, his strange accent and short hair throwing further credence on the story, everyone knew that those from ‘over the hill’ wore their hair short, both men and women.

Cam understood only too well that if it was possible for Elke to return to her own time it would be the best course for everyone, he had already seen the young woman’s restlessness in the short time she had been in Streines – multiply that by years and she would go haywire. He knew what would have to happen but first came some preparation and more information from this latest time traveller.

For John Sargent the developments were altogether very worrying. The Romans with Elke in tow had left the district nearly three weeks previously and would almost certainly be a considerable distance away. As he had told the old man, Cam, the mobile unit would work from any location so they would not by necessity return to Streines if and when he caught up with Elke Jones and co. He knew that was what he would have to do, go track a considerable force of soldiery, then get to Elke, preferably undetected. Easier said than done. He was going to need help and one hell of a lot of luck, Cam had promised what assistance he could muster; he hoped it would be enough for the job before him.

Tracking a couple of thousand troops was not in itself a difficult task. Even weeks later they left an easy trail to follow for the most part, heather on the moors didn’t recover that quickly. Adrie’s sister, a pleasant looking girl was acting as his help, much to the younger man’s disgust. With just the two of them they were less likely to attract undue attention plus they could move with relative speed. They travelled light, bivouacking at night, the girl was a dab hand at finding suitable sites to stop, his own skills were, he had to admit, minimal.

M’lenie was inquisitive; asking a continued stream of questions to fill the gaps in her knowledge learnt from her adopted sister Elke. In return John topped up his own knowledge learnt from Adrie and the party of historians whose brief sojourn to this time reality had nevertheless produced an incredible amount of knowledge. They found the strange camp and earthwork a couple of days out, they both marvelled at each new campsite they came to. John had only seen the castle at Bradforte from a distance, but he was impressed by the time it had been constructed in.

They moved steadily in the wake of the Roman force, by degrees catching up, John estimated they had travelled three days for every four of the army, in fact they had done better than that on occasion as more than once the Romans under Dornier had spent two nights in one camp. However their quarry was still moving ahead of them towards the Celtonii, the northern barbarians, who were the foe of civilisation for the whole kingdom of Angle.

As the Roman Tribune began to trust the Streinians so they were, with the other non-Romans, allocated to work as scouts, scouting was becoming more and more necessary as they continued to move north. They had been on the move for eleven days when a full squad was left in the legionary camp when the rest of the force moved out. Elke asked the Centurion, Sextus, later in the day, his reply was as obvious as her facial tattoo, the squad was to act as a supply station and also provide a rearguard. As an incidental they would also begin construction of a more secure camp. Although he didn’t say as much, Elke read that to mean another motte and bailey like the one they called Bradforte.

By now the native forces were mixing amongst themselves but also with the Romans with whom they travelled, gaming and storytelling with them in the evenings after the setting up of the camp. The Streinian group were as social as the rest, many of the Romans, even after a couple of weeks, didn’t know that there were women with them, they took them for youths not yet matured into manhood, only the oldest woman drew more attention but only because they thought, and Dornier encouraged the rumour, that she was an effete man.

Although they could often see the low plains to the east, Dornier kept his force on the high ground, a fact rued by most as the winds now swept across the high moors unceasingly, chilling the air and bringing with it the first signs of the soon to approach winter.

They seemed to have been on the go for an unfathomable time, rise, break camp, march ‘til mid afternoon, set up camp, sleep, and so on, to the Roman legionaries it was a way of life, to Elke it was fast becoming tedium. She had given up keeping tabs on what day it was after several days of particularly foul weather, gales, rain, and if that wasn’t enough fog set in afterwards. In another time and plain of existence the place they were at now would be part of Durham. The hills for the last couple of days had tended to drop in elevation, they were now amongst a more rolling countryside, much more forest covered the land, their leader had to keep them out of that as much as possible, a prime place for ambush even of his considerable force.

Sargent and M’lenie came across the supply camp and an already far advanced motte in the last vestiges of the grey day’s light. Their cover story in case of running into any Romans went into full swing; they were posing as messengers to their fellow villagers. The officer in charge of the small garrison recognised them as Streinians, allies he knew, and so their story was accepted. He offered them a camp site within the confines of the Roman camp, which they accepted as it included food and the use of a legionary tent for the night, for the last week they had slept in the open, tents were unknown to the natives, those used by the Streinians with the Roman army ahead had been hurriedly copied from the Romans.

The news from the supply depot was good, they had made good time and if they hurried a supply caravan was but a couple of days ahead, they could travel with that to up the main force. John wasn’t so sure about that, but M’lenie thought it might add a bit of security to their trip. So it was that they set off in pursuit of a supply train that in turn chased the main force, its advantage being the use of mules that covered the ground marginally quicker than the foot soldiers before them.

The chasers caught the supplies and still with some misgivings on John Sargent’s part, joined the native herders who under the supervision of four legionaries were taking supplies to the main force. Neither newcomer had ever seen such numbers of mules, they estimated a couple of hundred in all, each carried a load of either grain, or salt or even fresh vegetables – carrot or turnip to supplement what scavenging parties could supply by way of meat and wild vegetables and culinaries. Each of the herders was responsible for ten of the load carriers, making twenty of them; the Roman escort would be better than useless in case of attack.

M’lenie fell into the role of cook, her experience at the inn setting her in good stead, John helped each night and morning as each beast had to be loaded or unloaded and at night pickets set up, they went asleep each night to a cacophony of braying and snorting mules. The mules and their supplies had apparently been on the trail before them all along, however they had missed their passage in the trail of the Roman cavalry whom they trailed by a good few days.

The Celtonii were not what Elke had expected. From what she had gleaned from Streinian legend and odd words with other members of the Roman force she was under the impression that their foe were an undisciplined hoard of barbarians. None of that came anywhere near accurately describing the force now ranged before them.

Their opponents were big men, big in every sense; she guessed that most of them were around six feet tall, their impressive helms adding perhaps around half a foot to that. Although not as disciplined as the Romans facing them, they were however no rabble being drawn up in what, by their differing garb, were most likely clan affiliations. The men wore loose trousers and jerkins of a similar coarse material over boiled leather armour, one or two boasted more impressive iron pieces, each carried a broad round shield painted in lurid designs, the majority had swords at their side although axes and maces were favoured by some.

To the front of each group stood a standard bearer and, it varied, up to four drummers with good-sized instruments. A group towards one side of their opponents seemed to include the Celtonii leadership, their more ornate headgear certainly stood then apart from the line troops. With them were several other figures in flowing white robes, Elke’s guess was they were druids. The two forces drawn up in the valley were fairly evenly matched but for the Roman cavalry.

The young woman turned her attention to the Roman force. By squad the legionaries were lined up in classic formation. At the far side of the valley the other native volunteers waited, arrows nocked, the cavalry waited beside the Streinians to the left of the main Roman force, although small in number the force of which she was part were deadly archers and an essential part of the Roman strategy.

For several days they had been harried by the Celtonii, a handful of legionaries were lost, several more injured in the encounters, the enemy suffered similarly. Now they were to be part of the first major contact with the opposing force. Each side now stood waiting, waiting for the signal that would lead to death and mutilation for many of them, and defeat for one side or the other. She could see Sextus standing next to Tribune Hastur Dornier in the midst of their troops in direct contrast to their foe.

The Celtic force were the first to move, which was to the Romans’ advantage. They began to close the couple of hundred yards between the forces, weapons drawn, their progress of an easy trot. The Romans formed a shield wall and prepared Gladii and Pila for the onslaught. Adrenalin was pumping through Elke’s veins just as much as her colleagues as they prepared to let loose the first volley of arrows. The trot became a run and then suddenly the Celtonii lines broke in a dash for the enemy. The legionary force held its ground then with the enemy finally in range a barrage of pila was let loose, followed soon after by a second and third. Men went down, others discarded fouled shields, a great roar of voices and for the first time Elke heard the pounding of the drums, the answering call of the Roman horns creating a strange background to the fast developing battle.

The archers received their signal and let fly, their arrival in their foes midst did little to slow their advance and soon Romans and Celtonii were in close combat, the archers continued to ply their skills, the cavalry held its place for now. The battle was fairly evenly balanced; first surging one way then the other, some Celts at the rear broke off and produced bows and set to returning the archery from the Roman flanks. The battle was becoming a stalemate, Dornier signalled for the cavalry who immediately broke to harry the rear of their foe.

With their attention split, the legionaries pressed their advantage; over the clash of metal on metal the sound of the Roman horns then Celtic drums could be heard. The battle raged on, the archers despite the supplies they had brought were fast becoming desperate for ammunition, which would soon take them out of the confrontation. Both sides had taken considerable hurt but the Roman cavalry were the deciding factor and after a particularly useful charge by the horsemen, the Celtonii sounded the retreat.

Dornier’s troops followed the retreating force before the Tribune sounded the hold. The troops, exhausted from several hours fighting, willingly returned to rank as their enemies beat the retreat. After ensuring that the Celts’ retreat was not a trick, the Roman command set their men to preparing camp, even after such a battle there was no let up in their defences. Medics meanwhile tended to the injured, another detail collected those Romans whose lives had ended on the battlefield for burial.

The Streinians had lost three of their party to Celtic arrows; another half dozen had taken some injury although none were serious. They tended to their own dead and injured and in the truce of twilight went onto the now quiet battlefield to retrieve what arrows and fletching they could. If this encounter was anything to go by, a fifteen percent loss could be expected in any future confrontation then it didn’t look like their life expectancy would run that far. Elke actually felt worse now than before the battle and that thought did little to help.

Already though a Roman messenger was winging his way south to hurry up the expected reinforcements.

Sargent had slept little the last few nights, the sound of the pack animals and a general feeling of unease combined to disturb his sleep. He awoke to the sound of horses, not the pack animals but a horse coming at some speed. He wasn’t alone; by the time the rider reached them everyone in the camp was awake. The messenger was more than pleased to meet a friendly party and over breakfast told them of the battle just two days since. John's heart leapt at the news, partly in expectation, partly in fear, it would not be long now before he located Elke.

Maddy Bell © 1998, 2004, 2010

 
The morning after the battle the Tribune sent out a scouting party, but there was no sign in the immediate vicinity of their enemy. Squads, Maniples were brought up to strength, men promoted, soon the Third Cohort although reduced in number were ready for action once again. The Tribune started his force in the wake of the Celtonii withdrawal, he was under no illusion as to their victory, he could be leading his men into a great deal of trouble. Sextus had voiced that possibility and so the scouts were increased and they marched in battle readiness.

If the Celtonii had not been split on two fronts it would be the Romans in flight, but almost simultaneously the two Roman Cohorts had engaged the big northerners. The other battle near the coast had almost gone their way, but a flukeish landslide had taken a good many Celts to their deaths and raised the Romans’ fright, it was then almost a rout as a once disciplined force broke in disarray. So it was that now the Celtonii were being chased on two fronts, nearer and nearer to their homeland in the great forests of Keelda, which stretched from coast to coast, and north for several days.

Two days after the original confrontation, the party that Dornier chased stood to fight again. This time the Celts had a geographical advantage; they launched themselves from atop a hill at the Roman force. However the Romans were equal to the task and within a mere handful of minutes the entire force was within a defensive square, only the cavalry without who withdrew a ways. The square protected the archers who laid down a veritable barrage on the fast approaching Celts.

Then they were on them, both sides giving as good as they got. The Roman cavalry dove in, this time the Celtonii were prepared so that the attack was less successful than on the previous occasion, however a man on foot is not really much competition to one upon a galloping horse. The unexpected appearance of another great force of horses behind the Romans was enough to send the Celtonii running for what cover they could find.

They could hear the sound of battle not far ahead, John Sargent was uneasy, soon they would be in sight of the fight. The pack animals balked at the sound of clashing metal but the Roman escort urged the herders on so that they came in sight of the battle soon after. The Roman force was under siege from all sides; only the cavalry worried their foe. Then, as unlikely as it was, the Celts broke from the fight and headed for the hills.

The Roman force was dumbfounded at the sudden turn of events, then in ones or twos laughter started to roll through the ranks as their unknown ‘allies’ drew closer and they realised that the rout had been caused by a supply caravan. The Streinians joined in before Sextus set to securing their position, the Celtonii would not be fooled for long and could return at any time.

The Romans fortified their position rapidly, breastworks were soon raised, guards set. The supply train was swiftly unloaded; the animals picketed by the cavalry camp, a breastwork joined the two camps. Sargent and his young companion eventually made their way to the Streinian camp, now reduced to sixteen as another had gone down to a stray arrow. Elke was not around when they arrived, but the others reassured him that she was alive and well.

He didn’t recognise his colleague when he first saw her in the Roman camp. A thin young woman in tights and tunic like the others pitched her way around the waiting troops. A long braid of blonde hair hung over one shoulder, a bow on the other, a stripe of colour ran down the face, then a glint in the sunlight, another then confirming the first as it glanced off her nose stud. He looked again, the familiar smile had been replaced by a drawn and weary expression, she came on without noticing him, her mind elsewhere. When she was but a handful of yards away he called to her.

“Elke is that you?”
Confused at first, he had spoken in English, she looked at the newcomer. “John? John Sargent?”
“Yes, yes, its your boss come to rescue you”
“How…” Lost for words she collapsed in tears into his arms and stayed there for long minutes. When she finally came round she began again. ”How, how did you come here?”
“That’s a long story for later, the important thing is that I am here, I’ve brought your ‘sister’,” the latter with irony, “with me. That’s not the only thing I have,” he patted the pack on his shoulder, “A way back home.”
“Oh John” and again she hugged the man in front of her.

It was obvious even to John that they could hardly zap out of existence in the middle of the group, even if that had been his original plan. The other obstacle to that course was Elke Jones herself, he could see that unless he used force there was no way that she would come with him just now, she was too involved with the here and now.

With no new attack, Dornier ordered camp to be set up and soon the fortified area was host to the sound of mallets and the more relaxed sounds of legionaries cooking and settling in for the night. The Streinian party having lost the occupants of a full tent had ample space for the new arrivals, the sisters Cherryh and M’lenie joined Elke and John in the vacant tent. Newcomers and quasi Romans exchanged tales of their journey up country from Streines, then exhausted, they returned to their bedrolls.

The next couple of days the Roman Cohort stayed at the same camp, on the third morning a messenger from the Fourth Cohort found them. The news was good, only twenty miles away the Fourth had run into the Celtonii fleeing the Third and had taken their leaders. The two forces would now meet up a day’s march north before moving into Keelda. When John heard this he became quite alarmed and sought out Elke.

He had devised a plan for the pair of them to leave the Roman force but was still unsure of the safety of those left behind, Elke when he spoke to her was still not convinced of the urgency. Sargent had to come up with a new plan and fast. When the idea came to him it came in a flash and that was going to be the answer. The Roman force reached the rendezvous in good time and set about preparing the camp, John joined the Streinians in tent pitching then scavenging, he could afford no suspicion amongst these strangers.

His plan was going well, he was to share with the sisters and Elke again but more importantly Cherryh and M’lenie were assigned as camp guards for part of the night. Elke wasn’t going to like it, so Elke wasn’t going to know about it. They ate and retired to their respective tents and bedrolls, the sisters departing for their duty. Sargent waited till he was sure his companion was asleep before making his plan go on. As it went it was a simple idea, start a fire in the tent then immediately use the travel cube to exit the inferno. It would be assumed that they were completely incinerated in the blaze so no questions.

Well that was the idea. He gathered their immediate belongings ready and set a pile of bedding for the fire. Even the best plans can go wrong, but so far things were going well, Elke remained asleep, the camp was quiet, time to set things alight. John ducked outside to retrieve a brand to start the blaze, he didn’t notice two figures approaching the camp, who it must be said didn’t see him either.

The bedding wouldn’t catch at first, a delay that would soon prove a problem. Cherryh spotted the flames first.

“Quick M’lenie, we’ve got to get Jon and Elke out”

The two sisters ran toward the tent and burst in as John activated the time cube. It wasn’t two people who left the tent but four, outside the flames took hold of the tent itself, which was what roused those sleeping nearby, however the flames had too great a hold to do anything about it. A nearby legionary had heard Cherryh’s shout and so it was presumed that the two girls had died with their friends in the blaze, trying to rescue them. John was right on one thing at least, the fire left but a pile of ashes, a few melted blobs of metal and the remains of a knife.

John didn’t at first realise that the sisters were with them; his back had been to the doorway of the tent, his attention on the device in his hands. He wasn’t sure who was the more surprised they or he when they materialised in his lab a split second later. He was right in one respect at least; Elke was annoyed at him, not so much for carrying out the plan but more for not telling her. His saving grace at the moment was that the place was deserted, at least that gave him a chance to organise things with the sisters. Number one was to get them all out of the time centre, his own absence in real time was only a few hours, but he nevertheless checked his office out, changing into his regular clothing while he was there.

Elke meanwhile had raided the locker room, coming up with a selection of gear to cover their own garb and a kit bag into which went their weapons. It was a strange group who met John shortly after, Cherryh had a mismatched leisure suit, M’lenie had acquired only a short skirt while Elke had come up with a jacket and shorts for herself, and let out her now long tresses so that they flowed around her. A bit strange in appearance still, but they would pass a cursory glance. Then John remembered their faces, he had removed his own design, for speed however they would have to take a chance, Elke could remove hers at his place, the others would have to wear makeup for now.

John ushered his charges to his transport and got them inside and covered up, he still had to run security. Fortunately getting out was not a problem, they only checked on the way in, if you got in, you got out. Once past the gate and away from the site he let his cargo sit more comfortably as he turned the wheels in the direction of his house fifteen miles away.

The sisters were still not sure what had occurred, they only knew they shouldn’t be here. Once away from the Time Centre John relaxed some, Elke too let out a sigh of relief more at being back in her own time than in running the guards at the centre. The relief however was mixed with a certain amount of misgiving, would they be able to return her friends to Streines? If not, what then? She couldn't answer those questions, when she asked John he was no surer than she.

“I’ve found you some more suitable clothes” John called to Elke when he spotted her heading for the bathroom next morning “and that tube of soap should take your face paint off.”

Over the sound of the toilet and shower going on all John heard was “thanks”.

The two unwitting guests were still asleep, it was quite early yet even though John had been about for a while and had even been to the local mega-mart ‘Always open, just for you’ where he had taken a run on their sizes and bought outfits for each of the young women, cheap sandals would adjust to whatever size their feet were, a regular plethora of makeup completed his purchases, they raised some funny looks when he paid, but he didn’t even notice.

While Elke showered he made coffee and started to worry over what came next. The be-towelled figure of Elke came out of the bathroom.

“Clothes over there, there’s makeup too” John looked up at her as she passed. “Soap not work?”
“Er, I think you should know, it’ll take more than soap to remove this, it’s the real thing.”
John was taken aback. “But why?”
“Well,” she sat down, “coffee first.” The man passed her a cup of brown steaming liquid. “Thanks” She tried to gather her thoughts. “After the others disappeared I was resigned to staying in Streines for weeks, I hoped someone would come back for me but nothing. Eventually I decided that I would either have to stay in the village or leave altogether, the inks I was using for the temporary face design were fast running out and with them likely my safety in the village. I decided to stay and Cam tattooed me soon after.” She didn’t mention her other indoctrinations. She went on, “At that time not in my wildest dreams would I return to my own time.”

John sat quietly for a moment. “What’s done is done, if you want to cover it, and the others, there’s makeup with the clothes, it might be prudent not to stand out too much just now.”

“Thanks” the young woman finished her coffee and returned to the room where her friends were just stirring, collecting John’s purposes on the way. John went into the office adjourning the living area, he heard Elke show first M’lenie then Cherryh how to use the shower and toilet with some hilarity. Then it was all quiet for a while as John tapped away at his terminal, he tapped into his work unit, things however were not looking good, although they had not caused any damage to the time unit it just would not accept the co-ordinates for Streines, it seemed that the machine was working as designed only.

The sound of the women in the other room brought John back to the here and now, and he went back into the main room. He barely recognised the three of them, Elke had managed to produce acceptable outfits for all three from his purchases. M’lenie had a tunic over leggings, her hair still braided but curled atop her head, Cherryh was in a blouse and skirt of the current mid thigh length, she had put her hair into two braids which hung over each shoulder. Elke likewise had a blouse but she had shorts instead, her own locks were tied loosely behind her, she had managed as well to disguise their tattoos with liberal doses of the makeup, although the makeup and clothes didn’t quite go, they would pass.

John then tried to explain their current dilemma, they didn’t believe him at first but after he had shown Elke his failed attempts on the terminal to program the unit Elke unwillingly had to admit he was right. Leaving the sisters fascinated by the vidbox, he and Elke retired to the office to go over their options, John had a half-baked idea but it needed to be worked through, fortunately it was Saturday, the centre was shut so his computer activities went unobserved.

The two Streinian women were picking up the basics of English from watching the vidbox. They didn’t say so, but like Elke back in Streines, they already were coming to grips with not going home, it would hit them harder later but for now the hurt that had brought was replaced with a sense of adventure, a chance to see strange things, people and places. Their brother in his short time in the twenty-first century had not left the centre, they already had seen more. The girls flipped from channel to channel, from stern faced newscasters, to animation, little animals chasing each other across the screen, then to singing, people in strange costumes, another re-run of Star Trek, some they watched for a while, others they passed over straight away. When their host returned to the room they were glued to the porno channel, a young girl clad in thigh boots and sheer body stocking was writhing on a bed with another naked but for some small tattoos and sporting a hairstyle currently popular, her head shaved at each side and tattooed there. They were discussing this when the others came in.

Elke chuckled. “They are here two minutes and already they’re being corrupted”. John had to join her, as the two innocents looked their way.

The plan was set, they could but try, the basic idea was to go forward in time and hope that the later machinery would or could cope with the co-ordinates for Streines. John had held onto the mobile unit and it was that they would use. As the quote goes, ‘if at first you don’t succeed, try again’ and that was the basic concept of the plan, it could turn into a regular time romp, they had some preparation to do before hitting the time waves.

Maddy Bell © 1998, 2004, 2010