The Hands of Time (9 page)

Chapter
1
2

June 1605

I eyed the horse
suspiciously
as Robbie led
her
out of the stable, all saddle
d
and ready to go.  I
’
d been on horseback once or twice, but it was years ago on vacation to Mexico
,
and I couldn’t get off the old nag fast enough.  The horse, appropriately named Snowflake due to her white coat, was eyeing me back, apparently full of doubts as well. 
 

“She is so old, it’s a wonder she is not dead yet.  She
cannot
do anything more th
a
n walk sedately, so stop fretting and let me give you a leg up.”  Finn had been patiently waiting for me to mount
,
but
he was getting restless.  “Do you want to see the ruins or not?”

I nodded consent and allowed Finlay to help me mount the horse.  Finn vaulted onto his own rather spirited looking stallion
,
and Robbie slapped Snowflake on the rump to spur her into action.  The horse gave Robbie a filthy look and walked slowly through the gate.  So far so good, I thought
,
as I
gripped
the saddle until my knuckles turned white.  We trotted down the road leading
away from
the castle
,
and then Finn turned off onto a narrow track that led into the woods.  It looked as if no one had come
this
way for a while
. 
I began to relax
slightly
since we could only go single file
,
and the horse was walking, rather th
a
n trotting.  The trees formed a leafy canopy over our heads
,
only narrow shafts of light
illuminating
the path as we pushed further into the woods.  I could hear the chirping of insects and snatches of birdsong, but otherwise the forest was quiet
and peaceful
.  Finn turned around and gave me a smile
.
“
A
lmost there.  It’s about a quarter mile up the track.” 

The trees finally thinned out
,
and we came out into a small clearing, overgrown with grass and wildflowers.  The
A
bbey
was
at the far side of the me
a
dow
.
Finn jumped off his horse and helped me down
,
before hobbling the horses and walking through the tall grass toward the
ruins.  The
A
bbey must have been pretty in its day, but there wasn’t too much left
of the Gothic
-
looking structure
.  The roof was completely gone and the gr
a
y, stone walls were crumbling, exposing shards of colored glass still stuck in some of the windows
,
and a few rotting pews made of dark wood.  There were several statues in various degrees of destruction, some still standing in their niches
,
and some broken and
lying
on the floor
,
which was
covered with weeds
and broken branches.  Several saplings had managed to take root in the crevices of the floor, making the place look even more wild and abandoned than mere decay
.  The far wall of the A
bbey was
surprisingly
intact
,
the remnants of the crucifix hanging above the
cracked,
stone altar.  The body of Jesus still hung on the cross, but the head had been cleaved off and lay below the altar mournfully
looking
up at its body.  The place gave me the creeps
, so
I turned to step back into the sunshine of the summer morning with Finn following me. 

“It’s awful.  It feels so violated.”  I shuddered
,
and wrapped my arms
around
myself
,
as I passed a statue of
the
Virgin Mary whose face was almost completely hacked off.  “How could God
-
fearing men do such a thing even if they chose to worship differently?”  I was outraged
,
and turned to Finn for agreement.  I found him watching me intently, not saying anything
,
and suddenly I understood what he was trying to figure out. 

I was brought up in the age of religious tolerance
,
and knew people of many
different
faiths who managed to co-exist and respect each other’s belief
s
. 
People openly
admitted
their religious denomination without fear of persecution or
discrimination. 
In this age, being the wrong religion could mean the difference between life and death, liberty and imprisonment and I
’
d overheard Finn saying they were Catholics.  This Abbey was more th
a
n just a ruin to him.  It was a symbol of the stamping out of his faith in the country of his birth
,
and he was looking to see if I felt the same.  It wouldn’t do to ask me straight out, so he brought me here hoping to discern my religious affiliation
based on my reaction to the vicious destruction of the little church
. 

“Catholic,” I said and walked away from the ruin.  Finn came running after me, not convinced.  “Will you say the Pater Noster with me in Latin then?”  I was fair
l
y sure that Protestants used the same prayer, but I supposed saying it in Latin would be proof enough for Finlay, so I
san
k
to my knees in the grass,
bowed my head in the direction of the Church and began to recite the Pater Noster from memory. 

Our Father who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us,

and lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

He joined me
,
and we finished the prayer together, crossing ourselves as we finished with “Amen.” 

“Did you bring me here to test me?”  I wasn’t really angry with him, just a little surprised by his cunning.  “Is that why you mentioned the Monastery in the first place, to see my reaction?”

“Partly.  I had to know.  Being Catholic is
a
dangerous business in England, even for the King.  He is so afraid to anger the Protestants
,
that he
persecutes
his own people to prove his loyalty.”  Finn sounded angry
,
and I understood what the conversation I overheard had been about.  If someone overheard Finn making these comments about the King, he could be arrested for treason.  This was no modern
-
day England where you could mock the Royals and write trashy stories about them in the
Daily Mirror
.

“Would you like to see the rest?  The monastery is just there, in the woods.”  He walked ahead without waiting for my answer
,
and I followed feeling sympathetic and annoyed at the same time.  What was left
of the monastery was deeper in the woods to the left of the Abbey
,
and I
walked through the broken gate after Finn, entering what must have been the courtyard.  The well in the center had long since dried
up
,
and the buildings surrounding the square yard were almost completely destroyed. 
Finn pointed out what had been the barn, the
granary
, the dining hall and the living quarters. 
The roofs were rotted away and only the stone walls of the dormitory remained.  Finn took me by the hand and led me into the opening in the wall, showing me some remaining cells.  They were tiny, with just a cot
,
and a small desk and chair.  Most of the furniture was broken, but you could still imagine how the place must have looked.  I picked up a broken crucifix off the floor
,
and hung it back up on the nail in the wall
,
trying to imagine the monk who once lived and prayed in this cell before being cast out into the world he renounced.  He must have felt much like me, bewildered and afraid, not knowing who to turn to in his time of need
. 

“How many monks lived here? What happened to them?”

“I think it was about forty.  Most of them fled, but a few fools tried to fight and were cut down
for their pains
.  They
did not
stand a chance against a gang of armed men intent on looting and destruction. 
The ones that survived
probably made it to France or Italy
,
and were taken in by monasteries there
.”  Finn followed me into the sunshine and toward the gate.  I just wanted to leave this place.  It made me feel desolate
,
and I just wanted to go back to the horses.  This wasn’t like looking at some ancient ruins.  This was all too real and too recent.  I could almost see the panicked monks running away, trying to save what they could, and being pursued by armed men on horseback, running
them down
, swords coming down in a glint of steel and death
.

We walked to the horses in silence
. 
Finlay took a blanket attached to his saddle and spread it in the shade of a
leafy
tree inviting me to sit.  He pulled out a leather flask and took a long pull before passing it to me.  The brandy
tasted
good
,
so
I took a healthy swallow before returning the flask.  He drank again
and
offered me an apple.

“Thanks, you have it.”  I lay back on the blanket and looked through the sun-dappled leaves at the cloudless sky above
,
as Finlay bit into the apple
.  Somewhere not too far away, a thrush was singing its heart out and the ruins of the Abbey once again looked picturesque rather th
a
n sinister across the meadow.  I closed my eyes for a moment
enjoying the peaceful surroundings
,
and opened them abruptly when the sun was blocked out
,
and I found my face in the shade. 
Finn was lying on his side, supported on one
elbow
, his head blocking the sun
.  His green eyes looked dark and intense
,
and I suddenly realized that this was the closest I
’
d been to any man since Mike
and I began dating all those years ago
.  He looked and smelled different th
a
n a man from my own time, but I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt.  Mike had always been clean
-
shaven and smelled of soap and aftershave, but Finn had a goatee framing his generous lips
,
and smelled of leather warmed by the sun, mus
k
and horseflesh.  I had to admit that I didn’t find the smell repulsive, quite the opposite.  I suddenly reached out a hand and touched his lean cheek,
passing
my thumb over his bottom lip.  That was all the encouragement he needed
,
and his lips came down on mine, firm and demanding
an answer.  I gave him one by pulling him closer and kissing him back with abandon. 

Finlay seemed a little surprised by my reaction
, pausing for just a second, but then h
is kiss became more intense
,
and I felt his hand close over my breast, his thumb caressing the nipple through the thin fabric
of my gown
.  Making love with Michael had become so routine and tense
,
that my own reaction took me completely by surprise.  I found myself tugging at the ties of Finn’s
doublet
and putting my hand beneath his shirt to feel his chest.  His heart was beating fast
,
and I could feel his arousal through the cloth
breeches
he was wearing.  His head moved down to the bodice of my gown
,
and he pushed down the fabric to expose my breast to his lips.  I closed my eyes and threw my head back, trembling with pleasure
and
wanting more. 
Finn shifted his weight off me
,
and I felt his eager hand move up my leg
, finding the bare flesh above the silk stocking
;
h
is fingers stroking and probing, bringing me to
heights
of pleasure I forgot I could reach.  He withdrew his hand long enough to undo the laces of his
breeches
and I wrapped my legs around him, urging him on, taking everything he had to give me and giving him all of myself in return.