Page 211 of Feathers in the Wind
He raised an eyebrow and looked at me for a moment before he spoke. ‘I found it on a street stall in Florence and had to haggle hard for it, but in truth, I would have paid twice what the man wanted.’ He pointed to a drawing that resembled a modern bicycle.
‘I tried to make this. Flying machines, war machines...truly Da Vinci had the gift of foresight.’
We were interrupted in our study of Da Vinci’s fantastical drawings by rapping on the door.
‘Colonel, the patrol is back,’ said a man’s voice from behind the closed door.
Nat straightened, the soldier once more. ‘If I am correct, I will be told that the enemy is approaching from the north. My orders are to prevent them reaching Northampton.’ He gave me a lopsided smile. ‘To do that, I must deny them Chesham Bridge.’
There it was. His fate lay between us, an unspoken weight in the air.
‘Nat...’ My voice died. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t prevent what was to happen. I couldn’t change history.
Chapter 8 - THE BATTLE OF CHESHAM BRIDGE
I stand by the window and watch the familiar scenes of my life. Above the horizon there is the faintest lightness in the sky, the slight purpling that heralds a warm day but the air is heavy as if God himself presages my fate.
Already the servants are astir. I can hear their voices rising from the kitchen block and young May, the dairymaid, crosses the courtyard, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I can see lights in the barn where my men are making their preparations. We will ride within the hour.
I dare not turn around and look at the woman asleep on the bed. Jessie, my witch. If I close my eyes I can see the round softness of her shoulder and the honey-gold hair that lies tangled around her face.
Somewhere in the house my grandmother paces the floor.
‘Alice, you have told me to trust you, but I am afraid I will never see her again.’
She sighs. ‘Nathaniel, trust in me, trust in God.’
I smile. ‘I’m not sure God approves of your work here, Grandam.’
‘I will answer to him in good time. You understand now, what is to happen?’
I incline my head. ‘Yes. I can see your purpose. Make it so.’
* * *
Ijoined the household, which had gathered in the great hall to bid the troops farewell. An air of expectancy hung over the room like a pall. Nat entered, tall and straight, dressed much as I had seen him on our first meeting, only this time it seemed right. I was the odd one out.
He moved easily, familiar with the heavy clothes, a sleeveless buff leather coat his only protection against what was to come. His metal breastplate hangs in a glass case in the twenty-first century.
He must not have been wearing it at the time of his... at the time he… today.
He gave his orders to his officers and then turned to his family. He took time with each one: Mary, Dame Alice. When he reached the two little boys he went down on his knees and held them so close they began to squirm.
He rose and turned to me and I saw the indecision in his eyes. All he had to do would be to stay here, let the parliamentarian force cross the bridge at Chesham. Would history be changed by all that much? Probably not.
But I knew in my heart the words I had uttered yesterday were true. He could not evade his fate. It was written in stone in a little chapel.
Nat took my hands, and tears pricked my eyes. He laid a finger against my lips and shook his head. Taking my face between his hands, he bent his head and kissed me--a lingering, loving kiss that left me breathless. The strength and tenderness in his hands stopped the very breath in my throat. He stood back, touched my chin with his forefinger, smiled and without a word, turned and walked from the room.
A noiseless sob rose in my throat. I wanted nothing more than to turn and run to my bedchamber, throw myself on the bed and howl but I was conscious that I was the center of attention and had to maintain decorum.
Mary, standing beside me, turned to face me. I saw no warmth or sympathy in her face as she demanded in a low voice, ‘Who are you? What is your business with my brother?’
All I could do was shake my head. If I had tried to speak, I would have dissolved into tears on the spot.
Dame Alice touched her granddaughter on the arm. ‘Peace, Mary. Take the little ones outside to wave their father farewell.’
Mary looked from me to her grandmother, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead. She squared her shoulders and took the children by the hand.
