Serenity struggled awake slowly, helped by the loud, persistent ringing in her ears. What happened? Did I faint? Surely not. Despite working hard to complete this irksome dig as fast as possible, I made sure to eat enough and get adequate sleep. Well as much as those nightmares will let me. I remember being in my tent on the computer but then…

Her head spun. The ringing in her ears was receding but looking around, nothing looked right. Where were the tents, the staff, the trenches? She hadn’t sleepwalked off the dig site had she? Looking around again, the dizziness increased and her vision blurred. Why was it so misty?

Suddenly, her ears stopped ringing with a small pop and she blinked. There was a moment of quiet before a roaring filled her ears and a cacophony of sound exploded, crashing into her awareness. Serenity realised the ringing in her head had been blocking everything out. It sounded like children on a sugar high, screaming at the top of their lungs let loose in a kitchen full of pots and pans. The peal of metal on metal harsh on her poor ears.

It occurred to Serenity she was on the ground so she pulled herself up on rather shaky legs, only to find herself in a deserted field with bright blue skies and a distant mist. What? Where am I? this doesn’t look like any of my dig sites. A particularly load clash startled Serenity and, in a confused daze, she stumbled up a hill, slowly and reluctantly towards the sounds. Her nightmares. It was all from her nightmares, the sounds, the scenery… the mist. Maybe she was still dreaming.

At the crest of the hill, the scene that greeted her was horrifying. Adrenaline spiked through her system as panic flooded her. She swallowed the high pitch scream tearing at her throat and fell to her knees hand covering her mouth.

She looked upon what looked like the remains of a medieval, half a dozen small huts hemmed by an expansive forest to the East. But the huts were ablaze and the people, all the people men, women and children, lay slaughtered, slashed and bloodied. No longer people but empty voids staring out at a world they no longer belonged to nor registered. The dead, the dying and those still being cut down assaulted her with the stench of blood, gore and death. The tears that filled her eyes mercifully blurred the detail but they could not block the smells and the sounds that still sought out and haunted her. Wake up… please. Wake. Up.

Several well armoured men milled among the destruction. One particularly tall man still fought his target. As she focused again on the scene before her, she was filled with a white hot anger that built within her. Enough. No more. Whatever the blazes this was, she would not be subject to this anymore. The horror and anger erupted from her in a scream.

"NO. STOP THIS. STOOOOP!!!"

She did not even register that she spoke in French. Her anger and desperation to save someone, anyone, gave her strength. She got to her feet she flung herself towards the tall solider and the man he battled with. They must have noticed her for they both stilled momentarily, giving her the opportunity to run pull pelt into the tall solider with all her strength. He barely budged. Sword still poised to strike, his steel arm wrapped around her before she could react. She looked up into glazed vacant eyes.

His face was pale under his weathered tan and sweat and dirt marred his brow. Serenity was momentarily stunned by his eyes before realising she was at his mercy. Hands balled on his chest she could do nothing but desperately plea.

"Stop please! They’re only children. It’s over now, it’s finished. Please!"

His muscles trembled with tension under her hands, his breathing heavy and ragged. As she stared, his blue eyes seemed to spark to life and focus on her…

***

Robert de Montford looked down into wild, desperately wide eyes as he struggled to shake off the battle rage. Blinking and trying to focus, he found himself in the middle of a scene of mayhem. He held a tall striking young woman in one arm as she frantically searched his face, demanding answers. What had she said, children? There weren't supposed to be children here, this was a rebels camp. Some men still fought the Kings right to rule even after so many years and often formed these bands to try and rout the Norman nobles and servants, anyone who had Norman blood. They were killers so why…?.

Looking around again, things seemed to be blurry, he had trouble focusing. And then he registered the bodies of women and children. Bloody and broken. They shouldn’t be here. Suddenly he felt sickened. Indeed, what had he done? How had this happened? Their information had always been reliable. Looking around again, he noticed his men also seemed to finally register their surroundings. It was his fault, they were his men and because of him, they would always carry this shame. This terrible burden. As would he.

An icy malevolent finger traced down Robert spine as he felt a gaze fix on him. Whipping his head to look towards the tree line he saw nothing. That wasn't right. Something wasn't right here. He turned his attention back to his men. They were confused and horrified, some beginning to tremble. Robert knew how they felt, he needed to regain control quickly.

"Lieutenant, send a scouting party to the forest. Don't go too far in and be back before two notches of the candle. Hawkin, organise the men and begin the clean-up. Give the women and children decent burials. Check the settlement for valuables or information, I want an inventory made. Bring any survivors to me."

His men went about carrying our his orders, more settled now with something to do. The sound of quiet sobbing brought his attention back to the women still caught in his arms, staring up at him and the sword in his hand. He had thought that she was the one weeping but, though her face was tearstained and her eyes moist, she did not make a sound. Suddenly, she turned her head away, relieving him of that piercing stare and rushed out of his hold towards a few bodies where the sound was coming from. He was still too stunned to stop her, she shouldn't be here. She felt… out of place somehow.

Following, he watched as she gingerly rolled the bodies of two women aside, placing two fingers to their necks before turning away to give her attention to the source of the sobbing. A small boy, maybe five years old, lay curled up in a ball, sobbing quietly, hands covering his face and head. The woman gently lifted the boy in her thin arms and, inattentive of the gore covering him, cradled him to her as she whispered and rocked him. The sobbing gradually stopped and yet, she continued to hold him. Eventually, she looked up at Robert. He expected her to be accusing, but instead he found only sadness and questions in her eyes. What had happened here? Robert had no answers for her. They had done something terrible, something they could never make up for, something that should never have happened. And he was going to find out why.

***

This all felt so real that Serenity couldn’t just observe, she had to do something. So when she heard a child’s cry, she just acted. Rocking him in her arms, she didn’t know how to console him. He had witnessed such terrible things, he may never recover. All she could do was care for him, tend his wounds, feed him and hope that one day, this horrid day would not haunt him. Perhaps he would not remember. The mind is good at protecting itself.

After a time, he fell into an exhausted doze. Serenity looked around her and saw that the clean-up had already begun. To her surprise, the soldiers treated the dead with care and respect. The looks in their eyes told her they were just as haunted by this as she was. Even her soldier, who had issued commands, looked haggard and stunned and he worked alongside his men. Yet, if they felt this way, why had they done this? Watching, she saw their sorrow and stunned awkwardness. She couldn’t get the image of a pair of cornflower blue eyes from her mind.

Serenity stood stiffly. She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. She felt numb, shock maybe. With a brief glance around, she began checking for survivors and tending the wounded. Answers could be had later, right now, she needed to do whatever she could. She set about ripping up whatever clean clothes she could find, she walked to the small fire someone had started. Water was boiling she poured some into a separate pot and dropped in the rags.

Wounded soldiers and a scattering of villagers lined the ground in the makeshift camp, so she retrieved the boy and lay him close to the fire to warm before beginning the bloody work of nursing. Her first aid skills and in depth knowledge of biology and the human body helped her save as many as possible. She worked in silence beside the surgeon, or what passed for one here, and prayed this was just another dream. But the numb coldness in her finger and toes and the grime and sweat on her body felt all too real. What horror had she found? A shiver raced down her spine and an awareness, ancient yet still familiar, settled on her mind, quiet but very present. Somehow, this was real and she had to deal with it…

***

Robert took in his surroundings, dazed. The scouting party had returned with little to tell, quietly joining their fellow soldiers in digging the mass graves. It took hours but, as twilight neared, the area was finally cleared, the dead safely laid to rest. Cold graves gaped open, awaiting the dirt and peace.

Robert looked and saw but couldn’t understand. This was not war, this was not his wish. Why? The women had drawn his eyes again and again as she worked with his men. She held the child even now, and had been within sight of him since they had met. Who was she? Where had she come from? Perhaps she was his angel, sent to guide his path. She had certainly saved them from further horrors today.

As the sun sunk closer and closer to the horizon, each man gathered around the grave. His heart ached for them and the dead. Robert prayed in silence for forgiveness and for everything that had been lost today, the villagers and his men. A voice rose into the cold dark night, beautiful, sweet and soft. She sang in a strange tongue.

The Lament of War

Weep for what you see

Weep for what was done

Weep for what you have lost

And weep when others are done

Forget not these few who are lost

Who died in horror and pain

And always remember that war

Is nothing but foolish and vain

You fight to defend your families

You fight to protect yourself

But the truth is we fight when we’re told to

For someone else’s power and wealth

When your weeping is done

Forgive yourselves for your part

Learn the lessons or war

And always keep peace in your heart.

Though he could not understand it, it was beautiful yet haunting. He felt and no doubt his men felt, the sorrow and anger in her melody. It spoke to him. After a brief silence, he began to sing. An answer of sorts. Him me quickly joined him and soon everyone was singing.

Mourning Lament

Our Warriors, our Brothers are lost

We will mourn them now and forever

But never as fiercely as now

Remember

Our women, our children are lost

Our past and our future, never

Will we ever find another?

Remember

Mourn with me our loss

Of hope and past and future

And remember that, through us

They will live forever.

Every man was silent. It was and old lament and each man acknowledged the truth of it today. Oddly enough it was comforting. In the deep silence, Robert vowed to know the truth of what had happened this day.

***

Okay Serenity. Let’s put together what we know. Main tent on the dig. Left laptop and mobile by security monitors. Went to get a hot drink. Blank spot. Woke up in a field. Green everywhere, far off trees, nice weather. No roads or traffic. Bloody battle with swords… Stupid headlong rush into path of man with sword… speaking French… Triage battlefield… funeral where songs in archaic language randomly pop into my head… Sleep on the ground with orphaned little boy… two day horseback journey to castle…

… uhhhh…

Deeeeep breathes Serenity. Deep breathes.

Bloody battle with swords. Archaic language. Horseback. Castle… Bloody battle…

It has to be a dream. Historical re-enactment. But they were really dead. Main tent at the sig. Woke up in a field…

Serenity sat on her horse, it’s tether held by her mystery leader, with the orphaned buy sitting in front of her. It was a two day journey back to the castle where these men came from. After the clean-up, they had set out and moved with haste to reach a safe campsite for a night under the stars, followed by a day on horseback. Serenity occupied herself with thinking, riding and looking after the child.

And glancing at the men around her. One in particular.

The long journey certainly gave her plenty of time to think herself into circles. She was used to horses, having ridden every weekend since she was a girl, but the long hours were punishing. That, she certainly wasn’t used to. The quiet helped as well. Conversation was almost non-existent. She didn’t blame them, not after what they had been through. And it’s not like she could explain her presence to them, or who she was… or anything really. She didn’t know herself. She knew who she was… but it made no sense. She remembered Cyprus, Terrance, the plane ride, several weeks at the Dig… Oh! It was dark. Did she fall and hit her head? Or someone hit her? Arrrrr it was so frustrating.

Serenity was startled from her thoughts by the softly spoken words next to her.

***

“Are you well My Lady?”

Robert’s mind was spinning, caught up in images and sounds. What happened? Why? He was a seasoned soldier, he knew death but this… If he continued to think on this he would go mad. So, to distract himself he had turned to the riddle of the woman.

She started at his question. She too must be wrestling with her thoughts. He was concerned for her, how could one so unused to violence and battle cope with what she had witnessed? Even he and his men were horrified by this… he could not even call it a battle. Her soft voice pulled him from his dark thoughts.

“In truth My Lord, I am a little confused. And so very tired. I have recently travelled from overseas.”

“Ah yes, I had heard that the King was finally calling in more of the Nobel families to settle the land. Perhaps you arrived with them? Ah forgive me, I have not introduced myself. Robert de Montford, Duke of Andenburry, commander to the Kings armies. At your service.”

“Greetings My Lord, Serenity Neville at yours.”

Robert was surprised but didn’t show it. She carried the name of a Nobel but her colouring was mixed. He knew of the Neville’s, they were known for their chestnut hair and forest green eyes. Serenity only possessed one. Her hair, mannerisms, mother tongue and family proclaimed her Nobel, yet her ice blue eyes and given name did not fit. And what was she doing alone out here?

“My Lord, can you tell me, how is the King? And the kingdom, is all safe and prosperous?”

“The King and the Prince of Wales are both in fine spirits. They have finally achieved their goal of obtaining this land after seven long years. And the Prince is due to marry the dead Kings daughter within the year. The people are fairly settled with only a few rebellious pockets. I assure my Lady you are quite safe.”

“Thank you my Lord. That is good to hear.”

Robert glanced over and was concerned to see that instead of looking relieved, the Lady had a small frown cranking her brow. He could understand her concern yet why was she unhappy with his news? Did she perhaps sympathise with what he assumed must be the other side of her family?

Or perhaps she was afraid. Considering what she had witnessed, her could not blame her. Again, Roberts thoughts turned to the recent horror and the mystery of it all. The slow trudge home lapsed once again into silence.

***

Riding into the bailey about 12 hours after breaking camp, the boy in front of her and her hands tied, Serenity again tried to contemplate just what had happened to her. She now had to accept that this was, in some form, real. At least to her. Whether or not she had gone back in time, was in a coma or now living in some sort or trauma induced dream, she was here and she had to deal with it somehow. And it was changing her too. She still remembered everything from her normal life, except what happened after she left her computer… But she also knew things she shouldn't, like how to sing a lament. And the language and custom of these people. Okay so she couldn't remember them all the time but she got flashes of them and they sort of… took over her body. Weird.

As her group came to a stop and the portcullis closed, her immediate situation took precedence. What kind of men had she fallen in with? She felt their shock and sadness at their actions yesterday, yet they had still done it. The night she spent camped with them showed her they were well disciplined and congenial. Lord de Montford only tied her up when they left that morning. And only because they didn’t have time to question her but for her name. After all, she had appeared out of nowhere and didn’t act like someone in her situation should. And they were right to, for all they knew she was a spy or a crazed women out for revenge. Not that she could do much to these large muscled men. She wished they made them like that in her time. Focus Serenity! She had noticed however that last night they were, a little odd. All their pupils were dilated and they would quickly fall into their own world. Lord de Montford was good at pulling them back. They must still be in shock. Or...

The boy in her arms was another factor, she needed to care for him. They hadn't been separated since she found him, he wouldn't leave her and she couldn't bring herself to let him go yet. She was concerned, he hadn't spoken since she had found him. On some fundamental level, she knew he was important to her. But she didn't even look after herself when she was tied at the mercy of these men, all men of this time. Oh this was going to be fun.

Sir Robert dismounted and came towards her. Lifting her down but leaving the boy on the horse, she felt the tingle of danger up her spine. He looked at her like, assessing her. Taking his dagger from his belt, he closed in.

"Come, give me your hands. On my word as a Norman Lord, you will not be harmed."

Norman? Serenity slowly raised her tied arms to him, hands open and up, looking right into his eyes. He paused. Slowly he raised his dagger and cut her bonds. She let her arms drop and released a small sigh.

Still looking into his eyes, she saw. His eyes. Stepping forward, intent, she cupped his jaw and held his face searching those eyes. He froze but she didn’t notice. She stared into his blue eyes trying to remember how they looked when she first saw him. She was right, they were different now. They weren’t dilated. Her eyes widened in understanding.

"Your eyes… My Lord, were you yourself when we first met? That is, did you feel different?”

He seemed to pause. Blinking in surprise, he nodded staring back into her eyes with suspicion yet, what she said was true.

Growling in aggravation Serenity frowned. "I suspect you were drugged… probably in your meal before the battle."

She looked around. She remembered back to the battle and the aftermath, the stunned, distant behaviour. "They all were.”

Serenity began to pace muttering to herself, unconscious of the men intently watching her, straining to hear her fast, whispered words.

“Poppy juice? No. wrong effects. Nothing from the Americas would have made it here yet. What hallucinogens are naturally available now? It could be hashish. Came in with the merchants on the trade routes. Small amounts cause a high, euphoria, silliness like your drunk, and hyper-focused. Large amounts can lead to disorientation, restlessness and fear. Even hallucinations. If you’re hallucinating and scared, you might attach people. And if your acting drunk and sent to battle, your judgment is going to me way off. It could fit. But who did this?…

Security must have been tight right before a battle, someone on the inside might have slipped it in the food or wine then left. But why drug your own men? It makes no sense. And why kill a village of innocents? Are they trying to start a war?"

Serenity stopped, the crinkle of a frown marring her forehead. The question kept bouncing around in her mind. Why? She turned to face the big man again. She still didn't know his name.

"This wasn’t your fault, not entirely. I saw you when you realised what had happened. You did not want this. I think… I think you were given drugs, uh, poison. It makes you act differently. You shouldn’t blame yourselves for this. Do you understand? Someone did this to you. Remember what happened, remember these people but don’t blame yourselves. Find who did this and why and make sure it never happens again."

When he nodded again, in a daze, she nodded in satisfaction, happier in the knowledge that this man who had her in his control was not at least, a cold blooded murderer. Turning back to the horse she had ridden in on, she held her arms up to the young boy. He looked terrified, like he had finally come out of his shock.

"Come on little one, let's get you something to drink."

Quick as a flash, the boy lashed out and scratched at her arms. She pulled them back, out of range of his flailing but refused to step back. He stilled and again she stretched out her arms to him, smiling gently. This time he kicked out catching her jaw and splitting her lip. Still she kept her arms out to him smiling and pleading him with her eyes. Silence settled on the bailey as the stayed locked in their positions. The only sound was of his rapid, fearful breathing. Serenity could feel the eyes of everyone on them and the tensing of all the soldiers when she was struck. The air was thick, she could sense the danger. The soldiers, still raw from a bad conflict, could snap again at any minute. But she had to stay calm, not show her worry. Maintaining a sense of calm and patience, she simply waited for the boy to trust her. Looking into his eyes, silently telling him over and over again that he was safe. She offered him her protection.

Watching her, the boy seemed to shudder and his little face crumpled. Falling off the horse and into her arms, wrapping his legs around her hips, he sobbed into her hair. With a sigh of relief she wrapped him in her arms, smiling with tears in her eyes, she rocked him gently.

"Shhhh, that's it. Just let it go. Let it all go. You're safe now, I'll protect you. You'll be all right little one."

She continued to sway with him and, when he had calmed a little, turn and walked slowly but confidently into the main hall of the keep.

Normans. And Anglo-Saxons. Even though there wasn't supposed to be open warfare, the treatment of Anglo Saxon and Normans was VERY different. What would happen to the boy? And her looks were much more Anglo-Saxon than Norman, which would most likely put her at a disadvantage. The serf systems was practically slavery, and Serenity couldn’t think of a way to avoid it…

***

Robert and everyone else in the bailey were just stunned. What manner of women had found them? Because she had certainly not been among the villagers, he was sure, and she was nothing like them, unlike any other women her had ever met or even heard of. When she had held up her hands to him as he had instructed, his world was lost in her eyes and, momentarily, he had seen her as his lover. Her arms open to receive him, face inviting and gentle. He had to remind himself to breathe. And then when she had grabbed his face so intensely, he was momentarily affronted, he didn't know what to do. Her steely, searching gaze had unsettled him. She seemed to see right through him into his soul. All that he was, all that he could be seemed to be laid bare to her. And, inexplicably, he desperately wanted her to see the best of him, to think well or him.

Bahh, nonsense. She was a Halfling and nothing like a proper Norman lady. She wasn't fit for him… so why did it feel like they fit together perfectly. She had fire and dignity. Honourable and gentle… arrrrrrgh and now she was under his care, he could not, in all honour, touch her. Not when she bared the name of Neville. Besides, she would never touch a maiden. It wasn't right. Now if only she were a widow… No, no use wishing, he had a colossal mess to deal with and a potential spy in his midst. Who was this vermin who dared to interfere with the Kings business and cause he and his men to lose their honour? It must have something to do with that ominous presence in the forest…

Robert turned sighing and headed into the keep after the most extraordinary women. He beckoned his second and issued orders to have his men disarm and informed of the poisoning. He couldn't afford to have them lose control while in possession of their weapons. He'd have the reserves checked for poisoning and assigned to guard the keep until his men were free of unnatural influence. And he'd need something strong to keep control of himself. He could not afford to be out of the loop while he recovered. Nor could he lose control in front of her.

***

How could she be here? He thought he had closed his route. Long ago he had accepted he could never touch her light but now it was within his reach, trapped in the hands of those he wished to destroy. Cruel fate kept pushing them together but never within reach. He was tired of only watching, his grey eyes had seen enough. Now it was time to take what he wanted, what he had always wanted and drag her into the darkness with him. She was the flame to his wick, he would burn and consume all around him, and she was his fuel. His reason. Now she was here, their shadow would engulf history and ripple throughout all time.