Published: 1 Mar 2021
The man that took one step into the room surprised the boys even more when they saw him for the first time. He was in his middle years or what the boys thought they could be. Under his left arm he held an ancient looking helm, although it looked as though it was actually quite new. His head and upper body were covered in chainmail, which hung down to about mid thigh. Around his waist was a heavy leather belt, on which hung a vicious looking dagger and a large sword.
The man’s legs were covered in thick leather pants and he wore a pair of metal grieves over his shins. On his feet were leather boots with slightly pointed toes. The man swept his right arm around, then placed his hand over his chest as he bowed and spoke to Dmitri, while keeping his eyes on the floor directly in front of him.
The man’s visage was one of experience. A large scar that ran from the top of his left eye, across his nose and over his right cheek attested to such. The boys all knew, this was a man that was not to be trifled with. Even though he seemed to think Dmitri was someone of importance, he had taken the time to give all the boys a cursory glance, and showed a little surprise at seeing them in the same room as Dmitri.
It was obvious he did not consider what the boys’ held in their hands as weapons, but there was still a look of suspicion on his scarred face as he bowed to Dmitri in a very subservient way that surprised all the boys as they watched the strange tableau play out before them.
Without lifting his eyes, the man spoke for a few minutes before waiting for Dmitri to reply. For the entire time, his eyes stayed on the floor in front of him. Dmitri began to speak to the man in a similar language although, to the ears of the boys, it sounded just a little different. It did, however, seem to be understood by the man in front of them.
Raising himself up, the man turned and left while Dmitri turned to his friends with a disbelieving look on his face. For a second he just stared at them. He finally broke into a small smile and began to relate the message he had been given to Helmut, in Russian, so Helmut could translate for the others.
Once Helmut understood, although it seemed far-fetched to him, he turned to the others and began to try to explain what, and more importantly, where and when they were.
“Well my friends, it would appear that our Dmitri is some type of Lord and is the only son of the Lord of this citadel. The Lord is very ill and it is believed by others that he was poisoned and he wants to see Dmitri almost immediately. Oh, and as well it seems we are now in the year 1165, the middle of the medieval period just to make things more difficult. Dmitri suggests we all stay here while he goes to see what is going on. Also, that we should be very careful about opening the door to anyone until he returns. Well that’s it but if you are thinking the same thing as me then we may be in for an interesting, although dangerous time.”
Helmut looked at the others while they all stood with stunned looks on their faces. What had just been related to them could not happen, it was downright impossible and they all knew it. However, so far the appearance of the strange man and the sudden arrival of many people down stairs seemed to tell another story.
It was Peter that raised the first question.
“If this is true then what are we going to do? Another thing, none of us know the language or customs and we could all end up dead just for making a mistake. Helmut why don’t you ask Dmitri if he has any ideas for us?”
Helmut turned to the patiently waiting Dmitri only to see the boy opening one of the large wardrobes that stood solidly against the wall. At the sound of Helmut’s voice, Dmitri stood back and turned towards him as Helmut asked the questions that Peter had come up with. Dmitri got a very thoughtful look on his young face as he considered Helmut’s words. After a moment, he began to answer in his quick fire Russian and, once finished, turned back to the wardrobe and began to sort through the abundance of strange clothing within.
Helmut turned back to the waiting boys and repeated what Dmitri had told him. There was also a slight smile on his lips as he told the boys Dmitri’s solution to their obvious problem.
“Because of his time working here, Dmitri knows quite a lot about the history of this citadel. It dates from around the year 1025 or so and he had to know a lot about its history to be a guide, so he thinks he has an answer for us, if it’s true that we somehow jumped back in time. Dmitri suggests we stay here until he sees the Lord of the Citadel and if it is all really true then it will be a Lord by the name of Baron Stanislav Shoveskya. If this is all true then Dmitri will just say we are his companions that arrived during the night before to join him for adventure and visit.”
Before anyone could say a word, Helmut continued on.
“Dmitri also suggests we think of some very imposing titles for us all to use so anyone will think we are nobility. This way, there would be less chance of too many questions, as it would be seen as being too impertinent to question the word of a noble, or his sons, in this time and age. Once Dmitri has met the Lord he will know more and then will be able to help us sort things out.”
The other boys could only stand with open mouths as they heard the plan from Helmut. What they would be able to do about it was something else but for now they would follow Dmitri’s suggestions and stay in the room until he returned from the upcoming meeting with this medieval Lord of the citadel.
A soft grunt behind them, made them all turn in time to see Dmitri dressing in some of the strangest clothes any of them had ever seen. The fact they seemed to almost fit him perfectly did not go unnoticed by any of them.
Once finished, Dmitri stood up and turned around to face the other boys. A slight blush on his face told them he had had to use a little more effort to dress than he thought it would take, but the effect of the medieval clothes draped on Dmitri’s slim frame did not go unnoticed.
Dmitri was now dressed like a person of some influence, according to what the boys had seen in paintings and books of the medieval period, although Peter was the true expert in such things. On his head, Dmitri wore a floppy velvet cap which hid his very short hair cut. Under a black, tight fitting jacket, with silver buttons that ran in two rows down the front, he was wearing a white shirt with very puffy sleeves. It was all held in place with a very wide and fancy leather belt that had what looked like a small leather purse attached to it.
Instead of trousers, he was wearing what could only be called skin hugging tights, that showed some of his charms with little left to the imagination. On his feet, he was wearing a pair of soft looking, black leather, pointed toed boots that came up to his ankles.
Although now dressed, Dmitri was not yet finished. After looking around the room, he walked over to a high chest of drawers and began to open each drawer, one by one, searching for something. It was in the third drawer that he found what he was searching for. It was a heavy wooden box that was highly polished and intricately carved. Dmitri set the box on the sumptuous bed and opened it without the use of a key of any kind.
Taking something from the box, he then turned for the others to see as he placed a large, very thick, gold necklace over his head and let it rest on his chest. Next, he closed the box and replaced it back in the drawer before turning to a large cabinet attached to the wall beside the wardrobe.
On opening the thick wooden doors of the cabinet, the boys saw it filled with daggers and swords, all of them in scabbards of varying types. Some very ornate and others more plain. Dmitri took a dagger that was held in a highly polished black scabbard and attached it to his thick belt on the left hand side. All the boys had to admit that Dmitri made a very imposing, and enticing, figure in the strange clothes.
Before much more could be said there was a soft knocking at the door. Dmitri smiled at his friends, then turned and spoke a single word. The door opened to reveal two young men dressed similar to the original man they had all seen earlier, except this time, the two young men were holding rather deadly looking spears in their right hands.
Both young men bowed to Dmitri, then stepped back and waited until the smaller boy joined them. Dmitri took his place between the two young men and disappeared along the passageway, with the sound of the heavy steps of his guard slowly disappearing from the hearing of the boys left in the room.
Alberto moved to the door and closed it against any unwelcome visitors until Dmitri’s return. There was now little they could do but wait it out and see if this strange event was really true. All of them still had doubts about it, but events were starting to make inroads into their preconceived notions of when, and where, they now were.
It did not take long for the boys to become bored with just sitting around with their own thoughts, so it took little for them all to start searching the large bedroom with all its nooks, crannies and cupboards. They had all completely missed the obvious and it was not until Spider called their attention to it that boys began to actually believe more in what had happened to them.
Spider had taken the time to look closely at everything before bothering to go in search of anything. What he discovered by just not doing anything but looking, soon had the others gathering around him to look up at what he had noticed.
It was right there, in front of their eyes all the time and yet, until Spider took notice, it had been overlooked by all of them. ‘IT’ was a large painting of a youth dressed in the garments of the period. He was leaning against the flank of a small horse and wore a suit of armour, without the helm to cover his face. There was no mistaking the face, or the size of the boy, compared to the horse’s size.
The boy was almost an exact copy of Dmitri, although he appeared to be a year or two younger, but the likeness was undeniable. It was Dmitri, right down to the impish smile and slender build. Even the suit of armour could not hide the fact he was slender of build, but possessed a certain authority about him.
The boys all stepped back, shaking their heads in disbelief. The painting was not old and dusty, but looked to be quite new. Again, even further evidence, that is if they truly needed more, that they had somehow stepped back in time and were now in a period of history, where their understanding of modern conveniences was of little help to them. It was going to be a tough learning curve if they were now to survive in this strange and new “Old World”.
At the sound of knocking at the door, Dmitri turned and spoke a single word in the language that would become known as Roma, in a later age. Although as Dmitri had found out, it was not exactly as he had been taught, but close enough that many would think it just a slight change in dialect.
With his friends informed of what was going on, Dmitri stepped out of the bedroom, taking his place between the two guards sent to protect him, as he went to visit the Lord of the Citadel, his supposed father. It was fortunate for Dmitri that he had the guards, for although he had at a later time been a guide around the citadel, he did not know exactly which room belonged to which family member of each succeeding generation, so it saved him making a mistake and going down the wrong passageway.
Dmitri held his silence as he walked with the two guards to the very end of the same passageway they had found their own room in. At the far end, were two large, carved doors and it was to these that the two guards took him. Outside the doors stood two more guards, although they were older and more fearsome looking.
As the group of three arrived, the two older guards bowed to Dmitri and immediately opened one of the doors for him to enter alone. Stepping into the room, the first thing Dmitri noticed was its size. It was easily twice the size of the one they had spent the night in, and more sumptuously appointed.
At the far wall sat a bed even larger than the one they had seen in their room. Lying in the bed, was a man who could have been around forty years of age, although illness made him look older than he truly was. Around the large bed stood three older men who were dressed in the clothing of the time and had very solemn looks on their weathered faces.
The man on the bed looked up with a great deal of effort at the sound of the door opening and a small smile grew over his strained face as he spied Dmitri walking into the room. With a casual wave of his hand, which to Dmitri’s eyes looked to be with a certain amount of effort, the man dismissed the three older men and motioned for Dmitri to come to his bedside.
Obediently Dmitri stiffened his back and walked forward until he was standing alone at the bedside. The man looked up with such a fondness and a smile that Dmitri almost felt bad about the deception he was embroiled in. The first words the man spoke, in the old tongue, were a surprise to Dmitri, but at the same time, gave him hope for him and his friends in this strange place.
“Petrus my son, when did you get back? No one told me you had arrived and it’s been almost a year since you went on your travels. You must tell me all about your adventures, I want to know everything you did and saw. Did you make any new friends? I know it has been difficult for you here with few friends for you to have. Firstly though, I must tell you, you have arrived back just in time. I don’t think I have much time left and the estate will need you now more than ever.”
Dmitri could plainly see that this had taken a lot out of the man, and he could almost see the man wilt under the strain of talking. But the joy he saw in the man’s face at the sight of Dmitri, was beyond measure and seemed to bring him so much comfort, that Dmitri decided to play his part as the travelling son now returned. With a bit of a lump in his throat, Dmitri replied to the older man’s questions.
“Hello father. I’m so happy to be back here with you and I have some friends that wanted to journey back with me. You will meet them all when you are feeling better and stronger.”
“I fear that may not be happening, my son. The poison has almost done for me and the alchemist has told me the truth. If I see this night out, it will only be by a miracle. I have tried holding on in the hope you would return before I passed. That hope is now realised so there was a small miracle that happened and it makes me glad it did so. Now listen my son, as there is little time left for me. I will want you to call those three back soon but first I need to tell you what is required.”
Dmitri stood silently as he watched the man struggle to catch his breath. This meeting was taking a huge toll of the man’s strength and Dmitri could see him almost wilting, as he forced himself to find the strength to continue on for Dmitri’s sake.
“There is only one person who would dare to breach the King’s orders. It has to be him who ordered this, even though he is not here to do it for himself, but for him, that is nothing strange. We have the assassin in the dungeon. It will be up to you to get a confession from him. When you call the three back, I am going to declare you Lord of the Citadel. I know you may think you are too young and inexperienced, but my faith in you will not be misplaced, of that I am sure.”
The man stopped to take a breath again. Dmitri could see all this strain taking a huge toll on the man’s strength, and hoped he would stop and tell Dmitri everything at another time, but it was not to be. The man knew he was close to his end and had decided to use all his efforts that were left to him, to pass on what he must.
“Go my son and recall the chancellor, guard captain and the King’s Viceroy. Quickly now, there’s not much time.”
Dmitri could almost see the man dying before his eyes, and he had no idea where the man was getting the strength to continue. Dmitri quickly went to the door and, on opening it, saw the three men waiting in the hall along with the four guards. Dmitri decided to play his part for now.
“My father wishes to see you all this minute.”
Dmitri turned, went back in the bedroom and to his place beside the bed, while the three men stood at the foot of the huge bed with their hands behind their backs and heads slightly bowed. Dmitri watched as his “father” took a little time to summon the needed strength for what was to come.
Dmitri’s “father” looked at Dmitri and made a gesture for him to bring over two small leather covered type satchels. Placing them close to his “father’s” hand on the bed, he stood up and waited for his “father” to continue.
The man looked up into the faces of the three men at the bottom of the huge bed and, with a deep gasp of air he began. It was easy for anyone to see this may well be the end of the man, yet he continued, regardless of the consequences to himself. In a voice far firmer than his health would indicate Dmitri’s “father” spoke to the three men.
“I, Baron Stanislav Shoveskya, do hereby cede my title and authority to my only son, Petrus Shoveskya, with all rights and entitlements to the lands, citadel and people of Skoffia for the rest of his natural life, and those of his descendants for all time. Captain of the guard, you have served me with honour and dedication as did your father before you. I now ask you to offer your oath to my son and swear that you will do all within your power to protect him and his lands with the same dedication you have already shown me. Chancellor, I would also ask you the same. You have proven beyond any doubt that you are an honest and true advisor, in even the most trying of times, so I would ask that you follow my son and heir with the same honesty and dedication to service. Viceroy, as representative of the king in these lands, I would ask you to carry this missive to the king that he may verify my son’s title and ownership of the lands and people that we have held in his stead. I have here two missives, one for the King’s eyes only, and the other will need your marks of authority to verify these are my wishes and that my son now be declared Baron of Skoffia from this minute until eternity.”
Dmitri saw that this was truly almost the end of the man named as his father. The sheer effort of the speech had almost done him in and it showed in every shallow breath he tried to force into his lungs. The smallest of gestures to Dmitri by his “father” told him to hand the leather bound message to the Viceroy, while the other was to be opened and laid out for the three men to sign with their mark.
It took only a minute for the three men to complete the task and then they stood back, but Stanislaw was not yet finished. Dmitri could see him mustering any remaining strength for a last effort.
“Viceroy, I would ask that, as the King’s representative, you would do the honours for my son at this very minute, there is no time left.”
As he finished, Stanislaw weakly lifted his right hand so the viceroy could reach it. When he did, the Viceroy took each ring off the man’s finger and placed them one by one on Dmitri’s own fingers. On the first finger he placed a large gold ring with a black stone. As he did this he told Dmitri what each signified, although by the tone of his voice he expected Dmitri to know already.
“By this ring we tie you to our King as his vassal for all time to come.’
The next ring, also of thick gold with a blue stone, was placed on his finger.
“With this ring we declare you Baron of Skoffia and all the lands and people pertaining to this end.”
The next ring, again of gold but with an engraved coat of arms on it was slid onto his third finger.
“By this ring we acknowledge you are the rightful heir and bearer of the crest and coat of arms to the Barony of Skoffia and should you ever need the assistance of the King’s guard to help protect these lands, this mark will bring to your side such assistance.”
All three rings were far too big for Dmitri’s smaller hands but he was sure there would be some way of having them made to fit his more slender fingers. For the moment, he curled his fingers a little to stop them from falling off.
As he looked down at the rings, he heard a coarse coughing from the bed beside him. Dmitri turned just in time to see his “father” forced almost upright in the bed as he gasped for breath. A sudden, small cough, and some dark blackish blood dribbled over the man’s lips as he forced himself to look at Dmitri and offer what was interpreted as his last smile for his son. With that last gasp, Stanislaw Shoveskya, Baron of Skoffia, fell back onto the bed dead from the poison. In an hour, the lands of Skoffia would know they had lost their lord protector, but his heir stood in his place so the line remained unbroken for all time to come.
TBC
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