dinner, seating themselves at a separate table. Nicholas, the innkeeper, remembered the generous fee Will had paid earlier that day, and he ensured that the cook and serving girls kept the best of everything coming their way. The table was soon enjoying the type of revelry Will had seldom seen since the night his life had changed and his world had turned upside down.
He’d felt at home in the future in a sense; people were cordial to him, and politely applauded his successes. His son, Fil, had treated Will poorly for the purpose of encouraging Will to want to leave and travel to the distant past to fulfill his destiny. Beyond that he’d felt welcome there, more than he’d ever expected to feel again after believing his wife and son murdered. Yet though it felt like a home, it did so more in the sense of visiting extended family once every few years. Will still felt a sense of isolation, as if he’d never truly fit in. Intentional or not, it wasn’t what he’d come to expect in the household he and Hope had built.
Yet here, with these Traders, he did get that sense. He’d known them less than a week, and yet there was a sense of true bonding. Eva was already someone he considered a friend and trusted confidant; other than the skittish Eleanor, the other Traders were people he admired and enjoyed spending time with. Most notably, his wife-to-be in the distant future lived here as well, though as a girl in her mid-teens and under the thumb of a tyrannical and abusive father. Will knew he could kill the man, and he wanted to do so; he also knew his duty was to preserve the future as already written, and that future said the man would live another twelve centuries at least. He needed to free her of the man’s clutches, and the men and women with him here tonight were of a similar mind on the subject, for they loved the redheaded girl named Elizabeth. He was confident that the people sharing a meal, a drink, and a laugh with him that night would, with no nudging necessary, join him in the effort to free the girl from her captivity, and that increased his sense of bonding and friendship.
For the first time in what seemed like a thousand years, Will felt that he was truly home.
VIII
Invasion
The Traders stayed up late into the night, enjoying the tales told by Nicholas, the innkeeper. Most of the stories revolved around local folklore, well-known among the residents, and thus the man rarely had much of an audience. They listened with rapt attention, alternately laughing and gasping in horror, as the stories unfolded. He was a gifted storyteller, and Will found himself enthralled.
As the stories ended, the team made inquiries about the recent thefts described by the guards at the gate. “We were stopped entering the city,” Eva explained, “and were told that the thieves entered by hiding their numbers and weapons inside wagons they claimed held goods for trade.” Nicholas confirmed this. The thieves would typically arrive in the early afternoon, trade in a clumsy manner until nightfall, and then corner merchants heading home with their remaining goods and money earned on the day. The men dressed in darker clothing and were difficult to see in the twilight, and the victims could never see where the men ran after committing the crimes. They could not identify the men with any certainty, for even the guards at the gate would not recognize them. “If they stopped you when you entered the city, it’s likely that your manner of travel made the guards think you were repeating the same process,” Nicholas explained.
The Traders finally retired for the evening, enjoying the soft beds after spending the two previous nights sleeping on the rocky ground. They were all soon fast asleep.
Will woke even before he heard the shouting. Something was very wrong. He jumped to his feet, opened the door, and headed to the main room of the inn. He found Nicholas there, hovering over two men who appeared to be injured. As Will
He’d felt at home in the future in a sense; people were cordial to him, and politely applauded his successes. His son, Fil, had treated Will poorly for the purpose of encouraging Will to want to leave and travel to the distant past to fulfill his destiny. Beyond that he’d felt welcome there, more than he’d ever expected to feel again after believing his wife and son murdered. Yet though it felt like a home, it did so more in the sense of visiting extended family once every few years. Will still felt a sense of isolation, as if he’d never truly fit in. Intentional or not, it wasn’t what he’d come to expect in the household he and Hope had built.
Yet here, with these Traders, he did get that sense. He’d known them less than a week, and yet there was a sense of true bonding. Eva was already someone he considered a friend and trusted confidant; other than the skittish Eleanor, the other Traders were people he admired and enjoyed spending time with. Most notably, his wife-to-be in the distant future lived here as well, though as a girl in her mid-teens and under the thumb of a tyrannical and abusive father. Will knew he could kill the man, and he wanted to do so; he also knew his duty was to preserve the future as already written, and that future said the man would live another twelve centuries at least. He needed to free her of the man’s clutches, and the men and women with him here tonight were of a similar mind on the subject, for they loved the redheaded girl named Elizabeth. He was confident that the people sharing a meal, a drink, and a laugh with him that night would, with no nudging necessary, join him in the effort to free the girl from her captivity, and that increased his sense of bonding and friendship.
For the first time in what seemed like a thousand years, Will felt that he was truly home.
VIII
Invasion
The Traders stayed up late into the night, enjoying the tales told by Nicholas, the innkeeper. Most of the stories revolved around local folklore, well-known among the residents, and thus the man rarely had much of an audience. They listened with rapt attention, alternately laughing and gasping in horror, as the stories unfolded. He was a gifted storyteller, and Will found himself enthralled.
As the stories ended, the team made inquiries about the recent thefts described by the guards at the gate. “We were stopped entering the city,” Eva explained, “and were told that the thieves entered by hiding their numbers and weapons inside wagons they claimed held goods for trade.” Nicholas confirmed this. The thieves would typically arrive in the early afternoon, trade in a clumsy manner until nightfall, and then corner merchants heading home with their remaining goods and money earned on the day. The men dressed in darker clothing and were difficult to see in the twilight, and the victims could never see where the men ran after committing the crimes. They could not identify the men with any certainty, for even the guards at the gate would not recognize them. “If they stopped you when you entered the city, it’s likely that your manner of travel made the guards think you were repeating the same process,” Nicholas explained.
The Traders finally retired for the evening, enjoying the soft beds after spending the two previous nights sleeping on the rocky ground. They were all soon fast asleep.
Will woke even before he heard the shouting. Something was very wrong. He jumped to his feet, opened the door, and headed to the main room of the inn. He found Nicholas there, hovering over two men who appeared to be injured. As Will
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